Learning to shout

On Tuesday night I was leading Zac's and in my new-found 'I am woman; I can do this' mode I decided I must again call for order myself and not ask one of the men to do it. 

Last time there weren't a lot of people there and there was just a low hum of conversation; this time there were loads of people and noise. I shouted - or rather I did what is the closest I come to shouting - 'Good evening!'

One or two people looked at me and everyone else continued talking. 

Then a man at the bar, not one of our regulars, yelled, 'SHUT UP!' That did the trick.

But the important thing is that I tried. The fact that I have a naturally quiet voice is just one of those things. Query: can one have a naturally quiet voice? Or has it never been tested? Perhaps I shall go somewhere lonely and try shouting. That would be a novel experience. Do I have a loud voice just waiting to be released? Could this be a major changing point in my life? 

'All these questions and more will be answered on next week's episode of Soap.' Do you remember that programme? I think it began the career of Billy Crystal.

It's strange the way things suddenly pop into your head. Speaking of which let me share my ear-worms with you. Perhaps it will rid me of them.

When we went on holiday the song I couldn't be shot of was, 'I saw a mouse, where, there on the stairs etc'

Then it became, 'High on a hill stood a lonely goatherd.'

It's currently, 'It's coming home.' Yes, I'm late to the football party. 

* * * * * * * *
The weather has continued to be very good. Not as hot as the south-east of England has it for which I'm grateful. Yesterday I swam in the sea at Mumbles, something I haven't done for years. It was strangely both warm and cold but very enjoyable.

What to do if your Fitbit report depresses you

My weekly Fitbit report has made depressing reading for the last two weeks. This week all numbers - steps, distance, stairs, calories used - were down on the week before, which in turn were down on the week before that. I would blame the heat for my lack of exercise but most of our sunny days weren't even included in my Fitbit week.

The first half of my week is usually busy so on Thursdays, after Rubies (women's bible study at Zac's) I like to come home, lie on the bed and read. But not this week. Today I decided to walk to Mumbles. To Verdi's to be precise with the added attraction of calling in to see GrandSon4 on the way.

We - George was with me - set off and got as far as the beach. 'Oh, it's a long way,' I said. 'Or rather it'll be a long way back.'

George suggested we could see how far we got. Perhaps we would only get as far as Ripples ice cream parlour. 'Their ice cream isn't as nice as Verdi's,' I said. George shrugged.

So off we went. 11,656 steps later we were back. 

We got as far as GrandSon4 (who lives almost opposite Verdi's) but I didn't have an ice cream. Playing with a little boy took my mind off it.

You may just be able to see the steps down to the sea in this photo. That's where I learned to swim as a child. The bay is tidal and twice a day the sea laps at the foot of the wall, give or take a foot or two. As a child I'd come down here with my mum on those sunny summer evenings when the tide was high and have a wonderful time. And sometimes it would be a family outing.

In those days you were supposed to be responsible for your own health and safety. So clambering along the rock-studded top of the wall was just good fun and not a hazard from which you had to be protected by railings.

Also we didn't realise at the time but the water in Swansea Bay wasn't entirely clean. A century of industry spewing its by-products into the river Tawe and thus into the bay plus poor sewage treatment led to the bay being, well, toxic is too strong a word but signs eventually went up banning the collection of cockles from the sands because of the health dangers posed by eating them.

But, hey, I'm still alive and perfectly normal!