Older Brigade Club

Halloween is just a few weeks away, and already I have seen windows and doors being prepared for the occasion, with thinned-out cotton wool resembling cobwebs and clingfilm strips to add a bit of drama, large hairy spiders glued to doorways, and witches' broomsticks propped up against a fence, and bats hidden in hedges. Shop windows have their Halloween displays and things to entice the consumer to buy. But lots of stuff can be made at home from materials found around the house or the charity shops. After all, it is just a fun night, and it is for one night. There is a great sense of achievement when you create something original, and it has cost you zero pounds! If anyone has any ideas for homemade items, video links, etc, put them in the comments. Please keep links for Halloween only. Other links will be deleted if not related to the topic. I will be putting a Christmas post up shortly, where links to homemade Christmas stuff will be most welcome. It is a time when child...

Has autumn really arrived early, I asked myself this morning, walking through the park on my way to town.  The strong wind was behind me and almost lifted me along the pathway.  It was a mix of brilliant sunshine for one minute, then seconds later, clouds so dark that it looked like a downpour was going to break out at any moment.   My thoughts were, how is fall on the horizon so soon?  I mean, it was hot and sultry just a few weeks back; where did the summer go?  Come to that, why is 2025 rapidly speeding past like a car on a racing track?  There are orange and red berries already appearing on hedgerows .  On looking around, people were back in coats or thicker tops; gone were the strappy vest tops and bare midriffs; well, bare midriffs on the younger ladies, I lost my midriff in my late sixties, and I have no idea where it went! Trees are beginning to lose their leaves, and the signs are evident; the last of the summer has drifted away for...

Last week, I had the pleasure of looking after George (age 6), while his elder brother went off to the orthodontist . George, with all the seriousness of a future rock legend , informed me that for his next birthday—still a few months away—he wanted an electric guitar . Why? Because he was starting his very own rock band. Naturally, I asked if I could join. First choice: drums . "No," he said firmly. That was already reserved for Charlie (another brother). Alright then, what about guitar? "No," George replied. " Jack ’s doing that. And so am I." Fine, fine. Singing, then? A sharp shake of the head. Jack’s on vocals, too. Running out of options, I suggested the keyboard. At this, George rolled his eyes so hard I thought they might disappear into next week. "Nan," he sighed with all the patience of a true artist explaining life’s basics, "it’s a rock band ." So, I asked, “Well, is there any room for Nanny in this band of yours?” He chewe...

I usually jot down a few lines about my grandkid adventures— today is no exception! (Hopefully I’m not boring anyone yet... and if I am, just pretend you’re entertained.) I arrived at my son’s house bang on time Saturday morning. And there he was: one hand wielding a vacuum cleaner, the other clutching disinfectant and a cleaning cloth, barking out a quick, “Hello Mum! Just off upstairs to do the bathroom!” Usual greeting. Ryan always puts on for me what he fondly calls “the old music”—which, for the record, is the superior music of the 60s and 70s. Thank you, Alexa. I pottered around in the kitchen jigging about to the music and doing a few chores waiting for the grandsons to slowly shuffle downstairs. One by one they all appeared bedhead and bleary-eyed between 10 and 10:30. It’s their Saturday tradition after all—late nights, no school, and that universal teenage expression that screams: “Is lunch ready yet?” After food (because yes, I did start lunch), I had my favourite sit-down ...

On Tuesday, July 23rd, I hopped on a bus for a little adventure to visit a close relative who lives in a charming, picture-perfect market town surrounded by country.   It’s the kind of place that looks like it popped right out of a storybook. As the bus rolled along, it took me on a trip down memory lane—literally! We passed by all the places I once called home for over 40 years. There was the house, the one I spent the longest stretch in, looking just the same with a few changes here and there.   Then we turned onto roads that once led to other homes of mine. It was like watching chapters of my life flipping by outside the bus window. Naturally, I got a bit nostalgic. Do I miss living out here in the peace and quiet? After all, my current town isn’t exactly what you’d call pretty . But then again... it is practical. Shops, doctors, and the hospital are just a quick bus ride away—and plenty of buses!  Still, the idea of returning to the countryside tickled my ...

I don’t know about you, but lately the weeks have been zooming by faster than Formula 1 cars at the Grand Prix! One moment it's Monday, and the next I’m blinking into Friday like, "Wait, where did Monday to Thursday go!" And don’t even get me started on the weather — it’s got more plot twists than a soap opera! Just yesterday I was grumbling about the heat (because of course I was), basking in glorious sunshine. But today? Today the skies decided to open up like I’d offended them an invitation. There I was, happily on my way to see my grandsons when the clouds declared war. Drizzle turned into a downpour faster than you can say “umbrella!” I could feel the rain sneaking into the back of my trainers like tiny mischievous gremlins. I thought to myself, “Should’ve worn wellies!" Ah, British weather — as reliable as a chocolate teapot. My journey back home is a solid 1.5-mile trek. At first, it was just a gentle drizzle, but a few minutes in, I had to deploy the brolly. ...

Yesterday morning, I found myself at the local bus station, casually people-watching — my favourite free entertainment. As I scanned the waiting crowd, one thing stood out: nearly every single person was glued to their mobile phone. Heads down, thumbs scrolling, eyes locked on tiny screens like moths to a digital flame. Even couples sitting side by side weren’t talking to each other — not a peep! Their conversations had been replaced by swipes and emojis. It got me wondering: how on earth did we survive before these magical pocket-sized gadgets took over? And it wasn’t just the teenagers — oh no. I saw plenty of grown-ups and silver-haired folks equally mesmerised by their screens. Well, almost everyone. My fellow 65-and-overs? We seemed to be the last holdouts in this tech takeover. Maybe that’s why my mobile was tucked safely away in my bag while I took in the scene around me. Still, I’m no complete dinosaur. I do love having my trusty mobile for calling home, checking in, or when s...

Being a Nan is a bit like being a very loved pet – you're adopted by the grandkids, fed biscuits during tea parties, and called upon in times of mild crisis and/or homework emergencies. This week, my middle grandson, Charlie, went off on a school trip full of sporty, outdoorsy activities – you know, the kind that make Nans hold their breath, "Wasn’t hopscotch dangerous enough?" I popped by for my usual Saturday visit and noticed Charlie staring off into the distance.  I could sense he was a little nervous about going away, in that very specific "I’m fine" way that translates to "I’m definitely not fine, but please don’t make a big thing of it." His dad was the exactly same as a lad – nervous before school trips that included more than a day away from home!  Come Monday, off Charlie went, apparently with a few tears.  His parents were slightly more stressed than him, and I was no better. I spent most of that day thinking about him – especially because i...

So there I was, mid-thought, in solving my YouTube Hurdle last evening  puzzle (high-stakes stuff, people!), when hubby suddenly drops this curveball: "Does ice cream have a lot of sugar in it?" Now, as a sugar-savvy wife of an insulin-dependent diabetic, I explained that, yes, your standard shop-bought stuff is usually high in  sugar.   But if you make it at home using natural goodies like bananas, you can totally skip some of the sugar crash.  There are sugar free options and low sugar, but when you make your own you know exactly what goes in! He then hits me with the next question: "How do you make homemade ice cream?" Simple, I say— if we had a blender . Cue the magic words: “Let’s get one!” Translation: “Please spend your evening on the internet, comparing specs, reviews, and prices until your eyes glaze over why I watch the football.” Challenge accepted, I have wanted a blender for ages! After an hour-long scroll-fest through Amazon and eBay, I found a b...

Ahhh, Sunday again—she’s strutted in with her sunny skies and warm breezes, wearing nothing but good vibes! No coats, no jackets, no boots—just slip on your sandals and let the sunshine kiss your skin. It's one of those glorious days that practically begs for a stroll and a smile. As I soak in the warmth, I can’t help but drift back to those dreamy Sundays of the past. I can still smell the roasts wafting from open kitchen windows, each one a delicious signal that it was Sunday roast o’clock on our street. Mum would be cooking up a storm—gravy bubbling, meat roasting—and Dad would be lounging with the Sunday papers, utterly at peace in his armchair kingdom. Meanwhile, me and my two fabulous sisters, the teenage trio of the sixties, were fully immersed in the latest hits on the radio. Hair teased, eyeliner winged, and minds lost in the wonder of what colour lipstick would turn heads that week—or if that new mini skirt was a bit too mini. (Answer: never!) Those days may be tucke...

Can someone please explain how the British weather flips faster than a pancake on Shrove Tuesday? I mean, one minute I’m at the bus stop turning into an icicle alongside fellow frozen souls—one woman practically shouting, “I’m putting on my big fluffy dressing gown the second I get home!”—and the next, we’re all being slow-roasted under what I can only assume is that rare glowing orb in the sky... oh yes, the sun ! Now, I’m not complaining exactly (heaven forbid!), I’m just putting it out there—why does this country go from freezing to furnace in 0.2 seconds? There’s barely ever an in-between. It’s like we skipped spring entirely and jumped straight into a weather-themed episode of “Survivor: Heatwave Edition.” Everyone’s out in shorts, crop tops, and vests like they’re auditioning for “Love Island,” while I’m over here rocking my flowy tops and comfy trainers. No stilettos in sight—those bad boys retired years ago! Comfort is queen these days, although I still try to keep things sty...