Brits and their inner weatherman

I've been at work this week and I noticed that the majority of conversations I participated in began and ended with us making our own assessment of the days weather. It's strange, how did our conversation evolve to such a point, whereby the weather became the predominant leading topic?

I first became aware of the nations fondness for this topic when I reached  25. I quickly noticed we went from discussing my studies, to debating whether or not we'd have rain that day. I found myself having to cultivate some phrases, I could use to help me steer my way through this new social interaction I would soon have to become accustomed.

Within a matter of years, I became an expert at steering my way through the conversations like I had a built in sat nav, collecting new phrases along the way. It was like being in my own video game and the villain was the big black weather cloud.

I'm aware there is a common misconception that British people love complaining about the weather, while there may be a sliver of truth to that. I don't think that's the whole story. Over the years, I suspect there's more to it and people talk about the weather for loads of reasons. I'm going to talk about a few of them.

One reason is because of a job, you can be forgiven for thinking that I am referring to actual weathermen. In this case, the people that best demonstrate my point are taxi drivers. Now, I've spent half my life in and out of taxis and in that time I've had lots (and I mean lots) of conversations with taxi drivers about the weather. Sometimes it's been less conversation, more they talk and I listen and response accordingly, while clearing the sleep from my eyes.

However, I reckon if your weekly income was dependent on the weather you'd expect to develop an almost obsessive interest in weather patterns and rain clouds. In fact, I'd go as far as saying that good local knowledge of the area, as well as an in depth knowledge of the weather forecast, are the two key ingredients that make a taxi driver a successful one.

I recently asked my current taxi driver - What climate is good for taxing?  Unsurprisingly, he immediately said clear and sunny weather, he then shocked me by saying windy and almost gale force winds. When I asked him why windy weather, he explained that when it's extremely windy people often deem it too dangerous to use their own cars but not bad enough to prevent them from carrying out their appointments. It is then that the services of a taxi driver are called upon. So, as you can see it quite literally pays for taxi drivers to talk about the weather.

The next reason, is using a conversation as a means to talk about things relating to themselves. I know I'm guilty of doing this on occasion. 'I hope it stays nice for my weekend in London' or 'It was so hot, I got sun burnt whilst walking in the Lake District'. These phrases are generally used to nurture the conversation so it suddenly, and more often than not unintentionally, becomes one sided. I know I can come away thinking: that ended up very 'me-centric' or maybe even the other way around, coming away thinking: 'Did I actually get chance to say anything during that conversation?'.

I don't think this is a habit done deliberately. I just think life is so busy, when we do get the chance to have a conversation, people can get over excited about sharing their news, that it can descend into who can get their news in first. This is never really an issue for me because, I'd never consider my news or stories to be headline stuff, so often I'm happy to sit patiently and wait my turn.

However, most of the time a conversation about the weather, acting as an indicator to the other people that your happy to have a conversation, almost like a verbal invitation. Then, once the weather pleasantries have been exchanged the conversation can go anywhere, from what was on tv last night, the latest books being read, funny anecdotes and local town gossip. Then the conversation would end with more chat about the weather, as signal to bring the conversation to end, like tying it off in a big bow.

Whatever the reasons, at least it encourages people to have a conversation. In a time of emails, text messages and snapchat, It's comforting to know that a simple chat about the weather is still considered an important aspect of social interaction.

Reached my first blogging milestone

Somehow in a matter of days the views for my blog page are going up and up, similar to the mileage clock on a car.  To my surprise, I've reached just over the 100 mark.
So,  I just wanted to say thank you to those of you who have read it and thank you to those who might read it in future. It's weird to know people are reading my ramblings, let alone maybe even enjoying them.

Thanks again,  I'm so grateful.

Speak soon x

The tale of three buses

Firstly, I can't take the credit for the title my best mate, deserves praise for that brainwave.

This time, I want to share with you, how a nice lunch with a friend, rapidly turned into an epic wheelchair adventure.

My friend and I arranged to meet outside a pub, we previously enjoyed a few months earlier. We walked into the pub only to discover, that all the tables that were accessible for my chair were completely full and all the tables, that have steps coming from it were totally empty (how ironic). We then, decided to relocate to the pub directly opposite, start the lunch with a clean slate.

Then, once that wrinkle of a problem had been ironed out, the afternoon began innocently enough with a lovely lunch, followed up with some pleasant conversation, which included telling stories, news updates and generally putting the world to rights. All the things you'd expect from a girly catch up, it was going so smoothly.

Before I left the pub, I paid a visit to the disabled toilet, which quite frankly looked more like a store room filled with an array of different bins, some boxed off pipework, hampering my manoeuvring and an over large sink, that restricted my movement. Once l had finished my game of toilet twister (which I've got quite good at now) we gathered up our belongs and left the pub.

Then we began mooching round town window shopping. As well as actual shopping, going from shop to shop like a bee going from flower to flower picking pollen. We then reached a bookshop,  this is where the wheelchair adventure began to unfold.

Let me set the scene, the shop had loads of large display tables piled high with the latest books, like a Jenga game (in fact, I think Jenga is sold there) which where in the middle of the room. Then, there were book cases and comfy chairs scattered everywhere. It is then expected, that a customer weaves through the thin walkways created by the tables, just to locate their favourite author.

As you may imagine, this layout is less than favourable, for trying to navigate a large power chair round the shop. I always knew this combination, can only spell trouble and result in disaster one day. This afternoon was that day, I weaved through as expected, it was impossible to judge the space, the back wheel chose that moment to have a mind of it's own and go in the opposite direction. This resulted, in colliding with one of the tables and destroying a book display.

Once it happened, I felt embarrassment that I created a scene, as well as extra work for the shop assistant. This was soon followed by, a feeling of satisfaction, because I had unintentionally demonstrated how impractical the layout was for people Iike myself. 

I automatically apologised and the shop assistant assured me it was a common problem. Going on to say, that unfortunately the staff where not responsible for the layout, explaining that someone from management had that pleasure and staff where expected to keep it like that.  Me and my friend discussed how the layout, was maybe considered a good marketing ploy. 

As you might expect,  the young employee rightfully fell silent. The shop assistant,  began to cite an example of how; on one occasion 3 mothers, with pushchairs/strollers had come in at the same time. All of them had to try and get from one end of the shop to another,  without colliding into each other or destroying the displays.  All the while, all the shop assistant could do was watch and see the incident unfold, helping as best she could along the way. During the telling of this story, I purchased a new book and me and my friend left the shop. 

In hindsight the book display incident,should have served as some sort of red light warning to me, that the rest of the  day was going to turn sour. However, I was obvious to it and continued on. Once the thought of shopping, filled us more with dread then joy, we figured it was time to go to our bus stop and head home. This is where the wheelchair adventure, really began to gather some pace.

Before I go further, it's important to point a few things. Firstly, the majority of buses are adapted to accommodate one person in a wheelchair. Secondly, there is a priority for people in wheelchair. This means, that if a person in a chair wants to use the space, there is an expectation that if someone is using it. They must change seats to allow for the other person.

I know a lot of people may find this policy extreme, but I think the thinking behind it is that people have the ability to easily choose and move from seat to seat, moving large objects on the shelving,provided on the bus. Unlike people who are in wheelchairs, who can only use the one bay provided on bus, as more often than not it's not possible to fold up the wheelchair and sit down.

Now, where was I. Oh yeah. We headed towards our bus stop, it soon dawned on us that our stop had been moved, with no indication as to where it had been relocated. So, the hunt for the bus stop ensued. As the search progressed, I was getting more and more disorientated after every turn, feeling like a hamster on a training wheel. Eventually, (thanks to my friends good sense of direction) we tracked a bus stop down. Unfortunately for us, as we were approaching the stop,  we could see the first bus leave the platform. Leaving us no option, but wait for the second one to come along.

Now initially, the thought of us waiting a while, wasn't to terrible as it gave us time to chat and reflect on the days bargain buys. As the time ticked by, it became more apparent that we were in for the usual long wait for the bus., but the question was how long. 

Well, half an hour over the expected time the bus finally arrived, a few disgruntled people started piling onto the bus.  We caught the attention of the driver, so I could get on. Now, we noticed from the window, there was two ladies with a pushchair in the disabled bay. The driver, with assistance from the conductor asked if they could move. I was too far away to hear their response but I can only assume they refused, as I could hear the driver reply with 'you know by rights, I should stop the engine and wait for you to move' These words,  clearly made little impact as  in the next second, the driver turned to me and said 'look, I'm running really behind, can you wait 10 minutes for another bus to come'

In that split second my heart sank,  I felt given the situation the best option was to say 'Yes, okay' I know people may disagree with my approach. I figured if I made a thing of it, got on the bus I'd knowing, be walking into a hostile environment as the ladies have been made to move and I've delayed people further, from going home. This kind of atmosphere, can only spell trouble and quite frankly,  I could do without it after a nice afternoon.

Anyway,  my decision was made, so the wait for the third bus commenced. A few minutes later, the bus turned the corner towards and my friend noticed that there was already a person in a wheelchair, using the space on the bus, so the bus automatically passed us. By this point, the shine of the afternoon had worn off. I did the only thing, most girls do in that situation, call the cavalry AKA dad. At least,  we could garnutee two things a) he would arrive on time, b) I would be able to get in the car. Hopefully avoiding, anymore disappointments and drawing this particular adventure to an end.

Technology Debate: friend or foe

I'm aware this subject is something of a hot topic at the moment but I've been thinking about it recently.

The term technology can be used to describe a vast array of different things, from the development of the humble biro pen to the introduction of the Iphone 5. So let's stop,  I'll put the brakes on, so I don't go anywhere and let me clarify what I mean.

When I refer to the word technology, I think of items which have directly developed, improved and enhanced my life. I'm sure each of you reading this can think of items which have had a direct impact in this area however, for me there are 2 main examples which immediately spring to mind when referring to technology in this way and they are as follows:
1) The wheelchair
2) The lift/elevator

Wheelchair

This is the main player, the big daddy of technical influences in my life.

I can say without hesitation that my younger self would argue (at length and with passion) that this item is most definitely a foe, nothing more than an enemy. Viewing the chair more like an annoying parent who would permanently put her on the naughty step and follow her about (whether she liked it or not lol) stopping her from doing what other girls do.

As you can tell, I was too young to truly appreciate the benefits of this technology, that was introduced to me, that was meant to make my life more accessible to me. Instead, I genuinely thought that it was some sort of punishment, for something I can't remember doing in the first place. I saw it as the root cause of all my problems, often behaving like a ninja attacking the chair at will, venting my frustrations (I broke more than one nail doing that). So, back then, it's fair to say, this piece of metal I was lumbered with was no friend of mine.

Then, I'm not sure how it happened but within the blink of an eye, this technology I once loathed suddenly became my shield, my portable protector. It was like having a security blanket (only mine included re-enforced metal, four wheels and a gel cushion). It quickly dawned on me I could use this metal to my advantage and help to guard me and assist me to negotiate my way through life.

This shield I'd acquired really came into it's own when it came to parrying off more than one ill - judged comment, from an abundance of well meaning people whose words, sometimes caused more harm than good. The chair became such a good guardsman that any comment,  unwanted stare and good old fashioned bullying would ping off the rims of my wheels like hailstones pinging off your coat when it rains.

Then once I had found my voice and some much needed confidence the guardsman handed back the uniform and allowed me to take on the responsibility for myself. It was at this point in life, I truly understood the important role this technology had to play in my life, it wasn't working against me but working with me.

These days me and the wheelchair are like two army veterans, who often come together and reminisce about the challenges we once faced and the battles we've won, all the time aware that the years that stretched ahead of us, are going to be easier and less traumatic, thanks to our past experiences. In fact, now I like wheelchairs so much I have more than one chair to choose from but three (I know I can literally hear my younger self foaming at the mouth) I use them like an extension of my outfit, depending on the nature of the event and my mood, 
e.g. one power chair for work meetings, one for lazing about at home and one for family visits. I've gone from wheelchair hater to a wheelchair enthusiast in the space of 30 years, not bad :)

Lift and elevator.

'No, it's okay we've got a lift round the back to get up there.'

This is a sentence that used to lift my spirits when I went out. I would say at one stage in my life looking for a lift was harder than looking for a needle in a haystack, because at least you know there is a needle in the stack somewhere.  When it came to hunting for lifts, you didn't have that level of certainty; there where lots of phone calls, forward planning, hoping and finger crossing. You may be thinking that this approach was a bit hit and miss, you may be right but it was the only thing we could do. Overall, this method proved quite successful.

That doesn't mean it was all plain sailing for me and my family could go anywhere we wanted, because that was far from the case, there where lots of disappointments and occasionally tears shed.  All was not lost and don't think I was a crying mess, because I wasn't, it just meant we change our plans to cater for the wheelchair and have a different experience, create a different memory. I know this now of course, telling my younger self was a whole different challenge.

Although, when we did hear those words 'Yes, we do.' That was a special moment; nothing short of magical. I kid  you not, when you were told there was, there was something mysterious about it. Hold on, I'll explain. Firstly, I was usually escorted by a senior staff member to the back of the building. Then, when I've passed two storage rooms, staff toilets and the days rubbish bins and I've just about lost all hope; the staff member (to my relief) turns left to reveal a secret compartment. To my surprise the doors would automatically open and I'd "walk" into a metal tardis like box but rather than transporting me to another space and time it just took me up to level one.

During these times, I thought of lifts like having a fun special friend, who would take me by the hand through the scenic route showing me a secret room, exposing me to museums, art galleries and restaurants that would otherwise be out of bounds.

The scenic route for a lift lasted until the the mid to late 90s (to my relief). The hunt for lifts got less strenuous, there were clearer signs around the building, and the percentages of yes's when asking for a lift got higher. As you may imagine I was in my element, going everywhere, finding lifts in all sorts of places; more shops, theatres and libraries. We used to find them so frequently, they would pop-up like flowers from the ground, not just helping me socially but allowing me to complete my education, attend lectures and even have access to a plane, so I had the opportunity to travel and just have all the opportunities everyone has. Yes, me and lifts were getting on like a house on fire.

Over recent years, I found our relationship has begun to sour, without warning more and more lifts I encounter are out of order and the ones that are in use are either a squeeze to get into or they suddenly stop between floors, leaving me yet again wondering what I've done to offend this piece of technology this time. In general,  despite our little blip I'm truly grateful for the introduction of the lift as without its assistance I wouldn't have had the experiences I've had or plan to have in the future.

Snooker spectacular

Now, don't recoil from the horror of what I'm about to say but I like watching snooker.  When you've finished laughing I'll explain why.

On the surface I could say it harks back to a simpler time, full nobility and dignity where it is free from Twitter wars, shouting at the referees and verbally abusing each other. Instead its the only ball game where a waistcoat and dicky bow is considered essential, the referee is taken at his word and respected for it and the participants even congratulate each other for a good shot during a match.

Although the more I watch it, the more i think it has traits of gladiators (no I haven't gone mad lol). If you follow me a second, if the weaponry is replaced by a snooker cue, the armoury is replaced with waistcoats and instead of exchanging violent blow after violent blow, they throw safety shots at each other and use their mental strategy to clear the table. Mean while the audience look on as the battle unfolds cheering the gladiator who emerges the victor and goes on to applaud his challenger for his efforts.

Hey everyone,
This is my first attempt at blogging, which came around from my random conversations.
I'm  a 31yr old women from the North (no anti north jokes please) I'm in a wheelchair and have cerebral palsy and it was suggested I create a blog and share my insights about life and maybe include a few comical rants along the way. So buckle up :)