We had bad news recently and I decided not to blog about it.

I feel comfortable saying what happened now. After only 5 months in his new job after redundancy and a long period of unemployment, my husband was told he was to lose the new job. He had not done anything wrong. It is just that in the charity world, funding can be cut and his bosses decided it was last in, first out.

You can imagine how we felt. We had done an expensive move down South and now it all seemed a bit in vain. I certainly felt troubled. By his own admission my husband was not proactive enough about job seeking last time round. I took the strain as he went down emotionally.

When my husband shared his disappointing news a couple of weeks ago, he also promised me he would take action this time in a positive manner.

One job application went in straight away and he was rejected even though he met the person specification and had done a strikingly similar job. Sometimes things just don’t make sense.

Other job applications went in and we were waiting to hear once they close towards the end of August.

The day before yesterday a recruitment agency telephoned his work and totally by chance he picked up the phone. They were seeking advice on how to recruit a candidate. Miraculously, they were describing my husband’s skills and experience.

To cut a long story short, he saw the agency yesterday and the employer today. It took them less than a hour to make a decision.

He starts work next Wednesday.

It just goes to show what a positive mental attitude and little bit of luck can do not to mention a lot of friends crossing absolutely everything to wish us well.

Phew and all that!

Today my Dad remembers his sex education and prostitution in navy ports such as Istanbul.


Most of us were young. I was 19 years old approaching 20 years and quite naïve. Back at home among young people sex was not a word that came readily to the tongue nor was what it meant talked about only in a roundabout way. In others, so far as I was aware, promiscuity was not common and from most men’s point of view a woman who was suspected of giving it out was to be avoided. Whether the same attitude applied to most women in respect of a man I don’t know.

In the Navy, predominantly an all male environment it was similarly talked about but presumably only indulged in when ashore where women were available. In most ports, prostitution was often more or less secretly available in the upstairs rooms of bars.

I and my mates visited the bars but drew the line at the upstairs entertainment. Basically I was brought up as were most young people with the view that sex came with marriage and that pre-marital sex resulted in all kinds of terrible diseases. My father’s advice “Keep away from red lamp holes” still held.

Coming back to Istanbul. The groups of other sailors that we met urged us to go and look at the streets of brothels. So off we went, sailors three. There were two streets parallel to each other consisting of two storey terraced houses. Lots of sailors from the British ships were walking up and down these streets all dressed in full white uniform. The story was that of these streets one was for the working class of the populous and one for the better class of people.

Sex was available at a set rate of one shilling and ten pence for the one street and two shillings and four pence for the “better quality” street. To draw a comparison my daily rate of pay was three shillings of which I had to allot on shilling to my parents. It wasn’t the cost that put me off but the thoughts of getting into bed or couch with a strange foreign woman and of what might follow.

In the middle of the more expensive street one house was given over to a prophylactic centre where after sex one could have a free injection into the penis to avert V.D. This gave away many of the sailors who had indulged because those who had taken “the cure” were coming out of this centre with a large iodine coloured stain of the front of their white trousers. We left the area with a clean sheet as did many others.

To me that was the end of Istanbul and we were back on board ship by tea time. Istanbul was a great disappointment because it had nothing to offer a huge number of British sailors. We wandered the streets of the city where none of the ordinary people with whom we came into contact spoke nor understood English and where by a geographical anomaly were European but by language, religion and lifestyle were Asian.

    The Pramshed

    What has made my soul sing this week?


    1. I have spent a lot of time this week evaluating where I am and where I want to be. Too often, mums can focus on the needs of everyone else and lose sight of their aspirations. There are things I want to achieve and I am determined to move forwards positively.

    2. I have asked for help this week. Usually I am a natural helper and don’t find it easy to ask for support. This week I did. I am overwhelmed by the generosity shown by my online friends. Thank you.

    3. I got up early this morning and enjoyed about 3 hours all to myself. How lovely silence is when you are in the middle of the long school holidays. I wish I could discipline myself to get up at least a hour earlier than everyone else in the family every day.

    4. I am feeling very motivated. I find the more I do, the more I want to do.

    5. I heard about good news from friends – a good holiday after a difficult year, pleasing A-Level results and so on. It is lovely to see things working out well for people.

    6. Random words keep coming to me in a variety of ways. I am sure they are showing me my next path.

    7. I think I just might be starting to believe in myself and in quite a big way.

    So there you have my reasons to be cheerful.

    What are yours?

    Today my Dad remembers a visit to Istanbul.


    A strict dress code was the order of the day for any matelots going ashore, namely full whites. This was the only time when I was on the Ocean that full whites were demanded. So dig out the whites from the bottom of the kitbag where they had been for the last 10 months and get them pressed because before going ashore there was sure to be a keen scrutiny from to tip to toe that the ship’s pride should not be let down – although more of that later.

    Leave would start each day at 1pm and as usual would be a journey by liberty boat (on of the ship’s motor boats) from ship to shore. If you missed the ship’s boat at 1pm then the next opportunity was the 5pm boat. Returning to the ship was by boat at 5pm or a succession of journeys were made in the late evening until all personnel were back on board. Different arrangements were made for officers from a different part of the ship.

    As the boat approached the city was before us on the hill. It was dominated by the St Sophia mosque and the Blue Mosque, both of which were topped by huge domes and minarets on the four corners.

    We were set down on the quay and groups of sailors were strolling up into the city. We three, Sam, Daisy and me like many another group simply walked round taking in the life of the city. It was hot and sunny an ideal day for exploring a city that has a real Eastern feel about it. Pavement stalls welling all sorts of goods with strange smells of spices and of cooking. The language barrier made any conversation difficult. In those days the ordinary Turkish people did not have any English.

    After a while we were ready for a sit and a drink and so we dropped into the next café we saw. It was quite busy and as we found three seats the locals were looking at us curiously as we were them. We smiled and said “Hello” and they replied in what was the Turkish equivalent and that was the limit of conversation. One of us went to the counter and asked for coffees. They were shortly served in tiny cups, a bowl of sugar lumps but no milk. The coffee tasted quite bitter even after sugar was added but we made ourselves drink it.

    Turkey was (and is) a Muslim country and therefore there was no alcohol available. We hadn’t a lot of money to spend and what we had would have gone on beer anyway. All we could do really was just wander around and there was not a lot to see. We kept meeting up with other matelots and they were are bored as we were. At least the sun was strong during the day.

    The general impression was that Istanbul as far as I was concerned was going to be a magical and mysterious sort of Eastern city but it was more of a let down to me. The Turks that we saw seemed to be of the poorer class and there was no evidence of culture. But after all we were only common sailors.

      Do your children enjoy arts and crafts?

      My daughter loves using her imagination and creativity. Her activity of choice would always be arts and craft.

      I remember when this passion started. We were at a birthday party and she had a tantrum. I was not coping very well when another mum suggested I give her some pencils and paper. Suddenly she was calm and full of smiles. She had found her forte.

      Although she has been criticised at school for her artwork, I am naturally biased and love what she creates. Also, I believe that art is all about free expression and should be done with enthusiasm no matter what the world might think.

      Recently we received an exciting package from Baker Ross. If the company is new to you, I recommend you check them out particularly if like me you sometimes run out of ideas on the crafting front.

      It is always exciting to get a parcel and if it contains fun for the family so much the better.

      Here are some of the things my daughter created.

      This little house shaped money box came ready to decorate according to a child’s individual taste.


      My daughter enjoyed playing with coloured sand making rockets and keyrings.


      She also put the sand in a little tray to create a mini beach scene.


      We love Baker Ross. The catalogue and website have so much choice and you can set your budget and then start having crafty fun.