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Sound the Trumpets - A New Blog for the Older Brigade has Arrived!

Tis The Season of Goodwill!

The season of goodwill is upon us!  The shops online and in the High Streets are buzzing with Christmas fare.  There are 3 for 2 and 50% off, etc, enticing us to spend our hard-earned cash.  But I have become more savvy over the years.  I now make a list and stick to it with self-inflicted discipline to keep myself from going overboard.  I learned my lesson the hard way years ago, and now I am one step ahead of the crafty retailers’ advertising. Seriously, write a list. I do mine around the beginning of August (yes, as early as that).  And, bit by bit, I find out what the grandkids have their little hearts set on, except George, who is 7 and will chop and change from one week to the next and start putting money aside when I price things up.  The older grandkids all want money, so that is easy, and I begin to put money away for them from the beginning of the year; believe me, you don't notice it so much. Around October, I look at my Christmas decoration...
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Nan and the No-Chance Rock Band



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 chewed his lip thoughtfully, then, after some deep six-year-old deliberation, said: "Okay, you can be the cameraman."

So folks, if in the not-too-distant future you spot a new rock band storming the scene—with a granny lurking behind a camera—you’ll know it’s me. And front and centre, giving it some serious welly, will be George and his merry band of brothers.

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