Helen's Heron

A few years ago I invested my hard earned cash in a plastic heron.  A strange choice of garden ornament you may be thinking, and indeed you'd be right.

Truthfully, I'm not really a garden ornament type of person, although I do have a small ivy-clad gargoyle as a nod to some kind of al fresco decoration.

But I have a pond, complete with fish, whose numbers were severely depleted by our local heron who liked to come and dine, turning our pets into his finest sushi snack.

I had read somewhere that herons are territorial, and if you put an imitation heron near your pond it fools the real one into thinking that particular dining table is already taken and thus he moves on.

So approximately twenty quid or so lighter, and husband moaning that I must be out of my mind to think that this would work, the artificial heron was purchased from the garden centre and installed to guard over my precious fish.

This did seem to work initially, although husband did point out I ought to move it round a bit otherwise the real heron would realise that it was a fake - a suggestion which I, perhaps foolishly, disregarded.

One day as I stood drying the dishes in the kitchen, I looked out of the window and thought to myself that husband must have bought me another mock heron, for there, next to my pond sat two herons, perfectly still.

It was at this point I realised that one wasn't plastic, but was in fact the real deal and was trying to befriend the inanimate one that was supposed to scare him away - trust me to lure the real one with a decoy!

Following on from this, I hadn't seen my fish for a long while and thought it was time to recycle my dummy bird as he had obviously woefully failed in his task.

But then I spotted my last two fish - Admiral Bubbles and Ziva, since you ask - lurking under some pond foliage, so my mock heron has earned a reprieve and stays for a little bit longer!

The 'joy' of clothes shopping

What clothing size are you?  You don't need to answer that, but if you're like me it varies - sometimes vastly - depending on which shop you're in.

When you think about it, that's utterly ridiculous isn't it?  There's a standard size for shoes, so if you're a size seven you know that a size seven shoe will fit you no matter which shop you're in (give or take adjustments for width) - so why can't we have the same for clothes?

I'm not a fan of clothes shopping, I'll be perfectly honest with you, and I think one of the main reasons is the variation in sizes which means you have to try things on in shops.

Now, I hate changing rooms - I hate them with a passion.  They are always too small, badly lit, there's never enough hooks onto which to hang your handbag, other shopping, the clothes which you need to take off in order to try the new stuff on because you don't want to put them on the floor, etc.

Then if they've only got a curtain, not a proper door, there's always the dread that someone will fling it open mid-change, or you'll catch it with your arm when wrestling with a garment, and you'll accidentally 'flash' the entire shop.

Plus, with all the tags and security devices attached to most items these days I have never managed to try anything on without being scratched with cardboard and/or plastic.  I emerge from the changing room looking like I've gone ten rounds with Nicola Adams, let alone just tried on a fancy frock or a 'going out out' top!

But what does make me really cross is when clothing's just labelled 'small, medium or large', so you have to establish what that roughly equates to in the usual nonsensical sizing stakes.

Believe me, there is nothing guaranteed to depress me, and I'm guessing half the nation, more than to be told that 'large' is a size ten!  No quicker way to lose sales either, I imagine.

Acts of kindness

It's all too easy to feel anxious, depressed and overwhelmed about the state of the world.

It feels like we're living in dangerous times, and that danger is getting worse and can happen to us any time, any where.

The recent atrocity in Manchester is one such example.  Young people, some of them going to their first live music concert, were targeted by a very misguided young man not much older than them.

But in the depths of our despair about the slaughter of the innocents, we need to keep reminding ourselves something.

The world is still full of good people, doing good things, day in, day out.

I saw a drawing on social media by artist Twisteddoodles of the world fracturing under the strain of everything it's facing, but being held together, and here's the caption that went with the artwork:

"A big event can make it feel like the world is falling apart.  But there are millions of tiny acts of kindness still holding it together."

We saw that in action in the aftermath of the Manchester bombing - from the speedy response of the emergency services, to the taxi drivers who drove people home free of charge; from ordinary people throwing open their doors and welcoming traumatised strangers into their homes, to caterers offering food and drink to anybody who needed it; the homeless man who helped an injured girl and then cradled a dying woman in his arms, the list goes on.

This is so important to remember, and to talk to your children and grandchildren about.  Yes, sometimes bad things happen, and sadly there are evil people who want to destroy our way of life.

But there's also a lot of good people, of all nationalities, religions or none at all, who make a difference by doing acts of kindness and help to keep our shattered world together.

Instead of thinking of the one man who did this evil act, let's try and remember the thousands of people who helped those in need, and who will continue to offer support to the injured and bereaved.

Let sleeping cats lie...

There are certain expressions which must have come about for a reason.

Take 'let sleeping dogs lie' for example.  This was perhaps wise advice passed down the generations by the first person who surprised a snoozing canine and had their leg savaged.

I think this expression should be extended - 'let sleeping people lie' is also good advice.  Unless of course you think they might be dead, and then it's quite acceptable to get a small mirror and hold it under their nose to see if it mists up.  Be warned though, should they suddenly awaken they'll wonder why they can see up their own nostrils and may of course die of fright.  Please don't blame me if this occurs.

I'd like to add 'let sleeping cats lie' as something to pass on, or at least my husband would.

Let me explain - a little while ago my daughter found a pretty cat on our compost heap, sleeping in the sun.  My husband - aka Dr Doolittle - decided he would go over to talk to it and stroke it.

It purred gently, butted its head against his hand requiring more fuss, and then when husband removed his hand to walk away, the cat leapt up, sunk its teeth into said hand and badly scratched both of his arms.

I remained blissfully unaware until husband appeared in the kitchen with blood dripping from both arms like an extra from a horror film, closely followed by daughter who looked shocked as she'd witnessed the cat attack.

After a quick call to 111 - I'd read you should seek medical advice after an animal bite - we headed to Corby's Urgent Care Centre where he was given a week's course of antibiotics (thanks for the great care he received, it's a fantastic facility and long may it continue).

While we appreciate that not all cats will behave like this, please take our advice and let sleeping cats, dogs and people lie!

NB - the cat was unaffected by this incident and still visits us; on the last occasion it strutted past the kitchen window with a pigeon in its mouth.

The school run

Ah, the journey to and from school.  That haven of peace and quiet in an otherwise hectic life, when parent and child stroll hand in hand, happily discussing the day, chatting to other parents and children and listening to the birds singing.

In a parallel universe maybe - in this real world the school run is more like Armageddon on a daily basis, a battle for survival dodging the unswerving SUVs and MPVs as they hurtle down the road searching for the closest place to park outside the school gates.

Yes, I too read the list of the biggest bugbears of the school run, and unsurprisingly top was inconsiderate parking around schools.

Now I will confess it's been several years since I consulted my copy of the Highway Code - I'm thinking it was before my driving test, and as I passed that before the A14 was even fully opened, that will give you some idea of how long it's been.

But I can remember quite clearly what the yellow zig-zag lines outside schools are for - nobody should park there, because that's where children and their parents cross.  To park there would severely restrict visibility and could cause a serious accident.

Sadly, however, there are some selfish people which think it means 'If I'm running late or if it's raining it doesn't matter if I park here because those rules don't apply to me.'

A recent example I spotted - not only were there zig-zag lines clearly painted outside a primary school, the staff had come out and put Police 'no parking' yellow cones, to highlight the fact there should be no parking.

Imagine my surprise then to see a parent pull up - just after 9am - and park on the zig-zag lines, right next to a no parking traffic cone, to unload their children. 

Before anyone leaps to a stereotype and assumes it was a woman driving a 4x4, it wasn't - it was a man driving a high-performance sports car.  I'll make no further comment!

The end of Car Share

It's almost a relief that I can talk about it now - I'd watched the whole second series of Car Share on the iPlayer, but couldn't discuss it as I didn't want to spoil it for people who were watching weekly.

That's a good point actually - if you haven't seen it yet stop reading now as the following piece contains spoilers.

What an ending!  Talk about going out on a high.  Or low, depending on your viewpoint, because the ending really was very sad, the Marillion track especially poignant.

I think the daydream sequence where John climbs over the cars was a nod to the Everybody Hurts video by REM, but I haven't had this confirmed.

Car Share has been a delight from start to finish.  My favourite episode was the one at the safari park where John and Kayleigh accidentally stole a monkey - or rather the monkey hitch-hiked on the roof of the little red Fiat 500L - and they then returned it, having sat it in the back of the car wearing its seatbelt.

I think it's already earned its place as one of the best comedies of all time.  Yes, you read that right.  I'd rank it alongside Fawlty Towers, Father Ted and Only Fools And Horses, before Del and Rodney became wealthy.

While I was initially disappointed that the second series of Car Share was also going to be the last - disappointed is an understatement, I was utterly bereft - now I given it some thought, it's totally the right decision.

There's nothing worse than your favourite show 'jumping the shark' (see Fonzie in Happy Days).  Only Fools should have stopped once Del and Rodney became the millionaires they'd always promised themselves they would be; it was never the same after.

Peter Kay left us wanting more with Phoenix Nights after just two series, although he is teasing us that there is another season of that written and ready to go - I just hope he unleashes it on us soon!

Local elections - Thursday 4th May

'Oh no, not another one!' - I think Brenda from Bristol spoke for most of us with her reaction to the announcement of the snap General Election.

Yes, it's time for 'one more car, any more riders?' and jumping back on the rollercoaster that we've been riding pretty much on and off since 2015, what with the General Election, then the Referendum, and now another General Election.

My 'theme park face' is firmly in place - you may recall from a previous column me talking about the rictus grin I've been wearing for what seems like an eternity now, but you can still see the terror in my eyes.

Mr Trump's White House and the North Korea situation is doing nothing to ease my anxiety and relax my jaw either.

But by the time you read this, you'll hopefully all be heading to vote in the local county council elections, or will have already submitted a postal vote.

I say hopefully, because I appreciate that we're all a little bit fatigued with politics.

But, as my Grandmother used to say, if you don't vote you can't complain about what you get, so please do find the time to go and do it.

This is especially important for younger people - please do engage and put your 'X' in a box as these people make decisions which affect your future.

Also, a personal plea to women of all ages - suffragettes died for you to have the right to vote, please let their sacrifice mean something and remember that there are some places where women don't have this opportunity.  It's important we have our say in the democratic process.

Parents, please take your children with you and let them see what goes on in the Polling Station so going to vote becomes as natural a process for them as going to the shops, Doctor or Dentist etc.

It's important that we all have our say - Polling Stations are open until 10pm, so go and exercise your democratic rights.