loupo blog on Absolute Radio

Yeahhy for Geoff and Annabel

loupo — Tue, 06 Mar 2007 21:33:00 +0000

I have a confession…I’ve been listening to a rival station in the morning the last few days (sssssshhhhh) Sorry I’m breaking all the rules of VIP-hood here. I know that I was getting a little close to that when I admitted that I’m so completely uncool with my fleeting tastes in music. The reason is that the whole ‘Paying Your Bills’ competition was so completely life-consuming that I needed a BIG break. I wonder if anyone else has been through the same need to step away! It would have been fine if I’d applied for a nice little three-hundred pound bill but oh no. In for a penny…I only went and thought, let’s go the whole way and apply for my Cahoot loan of three grand. I had no idea that you’d have to listen with such devotion for a month. It would have been fine if they hadn’t gone and actually paid of one person’s three grand bill. As most were a grand tops I’d have laughed it off and carried on waking up at a sensible time after being woken five times a night by the twins. I just reread the last paragraph and laughed. I sound so bitter! I’m completely not. I never thought I’d win but the trouble was that I’ve got lots of friend who listen to Virgin and I’d have died if they had called me one day and said, ‘Sooooo you’ve got a three-grand Cahoot loan….and you were mentioned on Virgin this morning.’ Thankfully Geoff saves it for me. There hasn’t been one show with Geoff and Annabel when I haven’t laughed out loud. I have literally just switched on after a good couple of hours of trying to settle our youngest teething monkeys and Geoff was doing his bit about ‘odd characters’ and mentioned the person walking around with the Jason Donnovan rosette on…or something (my brain is a little fried today)… and I grinned widely and I’ve settled into my night of flogging books on Amazon and Ebay and enjoying the Geoff Show. Anyone else selling the entire contents of their house on Ebay? I’ve run out of stuff to flog in our house but my Dad is moving to France and has dumped all his books on me so I’m selling the contents of his now! Lou xxx

Your Parents' Music Choices?

loupo — Sat, 03 Mar 2007 22:21:00 +0000

What music did you grow up with?

For a little fun and partly in honour of Awesley who must be the coolest Dad going, introducing his sons to such fine music, I thought it would be good to put on an entry about our parent’s tastes in music.

My parents were born in the forties. Sadly Mum is no longer with us but I’m proud to have inherited her talent of singing loudly and tunelessly to the radio while boogying around with a teatowel. My Dad had a fine selection of jazz records and I vividly recall dancing as a toddler to ‘Rock Around the Clock’, rocking my arms to the ‘rock’ and rolling around on the floor to the ‘roll roll roll everybody’. Amusingly our children will grow up with ‘rock being in their memories too as they loyally dance and sing to ‘We Will Rock You’. I have to say that their headbanging moves aren’t a patch on my rolling around the floor techniques. Why I didn’t grow up to be a dancer I really don’t know.

Dad could easily have been an extra from ‘Back to the Future’ in his prime. He was a slight build with an impressive cow-lick and collars. I love looking back at pictures of him in those days. Here he is on the far left:

As well as his love of Jazz, Dad enjoyed classical music and his heavy choice of composers used to add to my feelings of travel sickness as the music swelled and dipped with the manoeuvres of the car, me sitting between my five siblings, sucking a peppermint unhappily.

Mum’s favourite music was Country and Western. I don’t know exactly what turned Mum to Country Music but she adored it. She was a massive fan of all things Country including Raymond Froggit whose autograph I once got for her…’which one of you is Raymond Froggit because I want your autograph…hardly your standard autograph seeker but Mum had promised me a Mars Bar as payment. She loved Irish Folk music as well. I joined her in this one because I went through a real stage of enjoying bands like ‘Goats Don’t Shave’ and ‘The Pogues’. I used to tape ‘Country Club’ on the radio for Mum once a week when she went out to a local Country themed evening. She did stop short of wearing cowboy garb thankfully. Hearing the rifts of that music always carries me back to my childhood.

So how about anyone else? What music did you grow up listening to and did your parents convince you it was a good idea into your teenage years and beyond?

Lou

:o)

Those poor people

loupo — Sat, 24 Feb 2007 11:39:00 +0000

The last thing that I want this entry to be is a self-glorification, ignorning what last night's train victims went through, while I spout off about my own experiences. The news about the train crash sent shockwaves down my spine as news of any train crash does. My experiences however are nothing, absolutely nothing compared to what happened to the poor passengers on that train last night and in other train disasters. I simply want to put fingers to keys to understand a little of what they must have gone through.

The single most terrifying moment of my life was in a train. I was commuting to work, South London to the City, pre-children, in the days where I'd race to sit in the front carriage because I snatched each extra second I could in bed and the front position on the train allowed me a valuable few seconds to get out of the station at the other end. Being a receptionist I simply couldn't be late. I was sitting in the centre of the front carriage, in a seat of four, on the right of the train, in the aisle seat, facing forward, facing two other people. As ever my nose was deep in a book and I was at peace with the world. Suddenly there was the most enormous bump and grinding sound, some people at the front right of the carriage screamed and we were aware of the carriage lifting to an angle off the tracks. With another almighty bump the carriage returned to the ground again but it seemed to be at an angle, rather than facing forward we were pointing slightly left.

There was a silence in the carriage and everyone was sat looking at each other and out of the windows desperately, each of us like rabbits caught in headlights. This was a time which closely followed a few rail disasters where trains left rails and were hit by other trains. We had no idea what had happened but we had tracks to our right and left and it was a major route into London. Had we left the tracks? Would another train run into us? It was in that moment that I felt complete mortal terror. A few trains went past us and we were aware of people watching us from their windows with more than the usual interest. It took a good ten minutes for the driver to announce that there had been a problem and that we were to wait where we were for a short while.

The train had just left Hither Green. This wasn't thankfully, the big Hither Green train crash. This was a very lucky escape. It transpired that our train had left Hither Green and headed to the left at an angle to cross points to join the correct track. A fast train had been heading through from the platform on the left, on the same line we were joining. It had travelled through a red light and our train had collided with the other train's back carriage. The damage was negligable and nobody was hurt but that awful noise and thoughts will stay with me forever. It took a long time to brave travelling in a front carriage again. We didn't even leave the track, we'd lifted and fallen back on the track.

That evening at home I burst into tears and cried for a good while while Gav held me. It was shock. I watched the news over and over again, to reassure myself that it was newsworthy and that it had been something to be upset by.

Now if I felt like that after a little dodgem bump, what on earth are those passengers on the Glasgow service going through? I want to say that I'm thinking about them, the wounded and the ones who walked away. Today's news will be buried in the past very soon but those people will never forget.

Lou
X

Too much info but...

loupo — Fri, 16 Feb 2007 18:23:00 +0000

...I'm back.

At last I've managed to lever myself off the sofa. My three-year-old kindly donated me her sickness bug, on the same day as a migraine decided to jump out and say "GOTCHA". Interesting challenge! I think that it is the first day since I've had kids that I haven't changed any of them out of their pyjamas for the entire day. Directing operations from the sofa had entertaining results.
"Could you go and find some clothes?" I asked my five-year-old from the sofa. A few minutes later She came back joined by her younger sister wearing a fairy outfit over her pyjamas. It soothed my conscience a little that it wasn't quite so obvious they were wearing pyjamas. The babies had to cope with their night one-pieces for a while. I had to time everything else to be done in those couple of minutes after vomiting when you feel semi-human. The rest of the time I was a catatonic mess on the sofa.
"Could you pass the babies their bottles?" I asked as the tears began. My three-year-old replied,
"They don't want a bottle, they're hungry, they want a san'wich" and dutifully began shoving a few plastic pieces of food into their mouths which made them cry even more.

She had a point. I tried to work out how I'd feed the children. Eventually I had to stagger up and make them some food. I felt so awful that I had to actually sit down on the kitchen floor a few times between sandwiches. Doing anything remotely foody wasn't a good thing in the state I was in. Somehow I managed to get the kids to the table and the babies into their highchairs then flop back onto the sofa, with an ear out for pieces of sandwich going down the wrong way, which thankfully they didn't.

I have to say that the best thing about feeling soooo dreadful is that it really makes you appreciate feeling well! Life is fine again today and even though we are still housebound as one of the twins is still sickly, we made biscuits, played games, drew pictures and had our usual bop to Virgin Radio.

Great to be back. Thank you so much for all the kind messages.

Lou
x

Thought I'd won this morning...

loupo — Tue, 13 Feb 2007 11:06:00 +0000

I admit that I didn't listen for the first few days of 'pay your bills' because I was dipping in and out and didn't realise that you had to listen out for your name! Once I realised I was listening religiously. The extended pay-your-bills announcement nearly made me lose all my hair!

This morning was the first morning that I completely missed the seven o'clock announcement and following half-an-hour. I tuned in for the eight o'clock announcement with dread. I could hardly believe it when they didn't declare that a stupid woman in London hadn't turned on her radio and had lost oodles of money. I'm wishing the next few days by quickly so that I can enter a competition that doesn't involve killing yourself by getting up after agonising nights.

Last night was one of those that are par for the course in parenting. The sick bug. Thankfully only one of the tribe have it so far, our three-year-old daughter. Yesterday evening, at nine o'clock she started throwing up and every fifteen minutes on the dot after that until three-thirty in the morning. Thankfully we've got leather sofas in the lounge so I lay her on towels on one while I catnapped on the other between bouts. Thankfully she is a bit of a clean queen and hates to get messy so she willingly allowed me to pull her in whichever direction I could to avoid getting spew everywhere.

The last sick bug we had in the house was a family affair and I think we were all at it at the same time. In the end we had to see the funny side and I even took a picture of Gav covered in sick as I'd give him one twin to hold while I was cleaning the other and almost religiously the other twin would throw up too!

So we won't be going very far today. I'll be spending most of the day trying to stop the twins getting too excited about their sister kipping on the sofa.

I was one of six children and Mum had to cope with the multiple sickness bugs too. She used to make the poorly ones lie in bed all day to keep the germs isolated. We'd throw up in a bucket rinsed with Dettol. The smell of Dettol still makes me feel queasy. If we needed anything we were given a metal lady figurine bell to ring but strictly not allowed to eat a thing until the sickness had completely gone. I find that even now advice differs so greatly on sickness. One doctor told me that you should give milk and food to children if they want it. Another would say 'strictly rehydrating fluids' only.

Anyway, that taught me...an entry yesterday about how much fun parenting is and then I get the flip-side, illness. Illness I find is the biggest challenge because aside from the worry you have no time to yourself and I find that very tiring.

Lou
(blinking through very bleary eyes)

Thought I'd won this morning...

loupo — Tue, 13 Feb 2007 11:06:00 +0000

So we won't be going very far today. I'll be spending most of the day trying to stop the twins getting too excited about their sister kipping on the sofa.

Lou
(blinking through very bleary eyes)

Five years of special moments

loupo — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 21:01:00 +0000

Today is our eldest daughter’s fifth birthday. I have been chewing my nails thinking quite how this milestone should influence my blog entry. My mind keeps winding back to that day on 12th of February 2002 when we became parents for the first time. Should I write about how our lives changed as we became parents? It would be a lovely read for us but probably not for anyone else. I smiled earlier listening to the Gallagher interview. I can’t quote word for word but Noel’s line was roughly, “…as a parent I’ve had to be careful not to write all my songs about the kids.” I can imagine! Anyway, after dwelling I’ve decided that the best theme for the day should be dedicated to the single person who offered worthy advice on what parenthood should be like. Okay, okay, I admit that I’ve sneaked round a devious way to writing the same theme. I bet that Noel has too. Anyway, to set the scene, it’s 2001, I’m pregnant, it’s winter, I’m wrapped up warm clinging onto a handle set on someone’s seat, commuting to Central London, feeling faint in the artificial heat of the train. My attempts to reach a sympathetic eye have failed; everyone’s noses are buried in their newspapers. I sigh heavily realising that I can’t blame them. Beneath all my layers of clothing it’s hard to tell if I’m pregnant or just rather round anyway. There is that uncomfortable stage in pregnancy where people want to offer you a seat but are terrified of offending you if you’re just blessed with a few tummy curves. I wouldn’t mind but I have fainted several times already and it always seems to be on blessed train platforms or trains. It’s amazing how people will tread over you and keep going when there is a train to catch. Eventually I look uncomfortable enough to scare a few people nearby and I’m aware of a little nudging going on. Eventually a young man stands up and offers his seat. I take it with a grin of relief and find myself beside a very friendly lady who I would guess to be in her fifties. We are sat opposite another couple of people and as I pull my coat back they all watch my stomach jumping around with interest. The baby seems to be the most lively when I’m feeling rotten for some reason. Wearing a tight jumper the undulations are obvious. The lady beside me starts up conversation. I wait for all the standard lines, the ‘it will be hard to begin with but will get easier’ or ‘the sleepless nights are just awful’ or perhaps some juicy horror story about the labour itself. These are the worst. There is nothing more dreadful than facing the unknown with people telling you grim stories about how awful labour is with a sadistic glee. “I’ll say one thing only,” the lady smiled, “you’ll have such fun. Children make you laugh. They bring laughter and it’s magical.” I imagine I’ll always remember that conversation. I adore optimists. She was right. She was far more right than all the people telling me about things getting harder and dwelling on how gruelling things are. Looking back I have to grin. We’ve had some wonderful laughter with Cara, as well as the rest of the tribe. They all make each other laugh now too and the house is often full of laughter. When you tell people that you have four children they think about the fighting and tantrumphs, the demands and sleepless nights. They don’t think about the laughter and smiles and so far these moments have outweighed the grimmer moments by far. Happy Birthday to our lovely little lady. :o))

Gahhh Salespeople...

loupo — Sun, 11 Feb 2007 18:46:00 +0000

...Up until a fortnight ago I could say 'ugh salespeople' with the majority of the population...but now I am one. I only shoulder the burden of the title once a week on a Sunday thankfully.

I've been there before.
"Why do you want to go into Sales, it's awful!" My Dad had told me shortly, back in 1994, after I'd argued with a boyfriend and jumped on the train for job interviews in London the next day. He was right of course but the thrill of working on Oxford Street was just too tempting. It was a mystical place to me back then, a little like Oz (the wizardy Oz). It didn't take long to understand quite why I was being warned away from that world. Managers would stand over us with target boards held up. Conversations were taped and replayed and analysed in front of team members. Important calls would be listened in to by a score of people. Big sales were rewarded and against all your instincts you'd be swept up in the praise and jubilation. Bad months were crushing and you'd be cold-shouldered as the office loser.

My best days in sales were my final days in field sales, when I'd plod the streets of Holborn with a folder of prints to show to advertising and design companies. I was wise to that world by then and would stop for several cups of coffee a day and even a few glasses of wine, with clients who had become friends and were willing to pretend we'd been meeting about something or another. On those ambles I used to look longingly at the receptionists who often told me to sod off, thinking how cushy their jobs looked.

The natural progression was of course to reception work. It was amazing! I adored working on a reception and stuck at it for years, relishing the easy life. Smiling, being friendly and making cups of tea and taking messages was a dream world. It was hugely entertaining to be aware of most of what was going on at every level in the company.

Then babies appeared and I've had the best few years of doing the most fun kind of work.

Last Sunday was my first venture back into the working world. I have a Sunday job in Sales. Ha ha ha - oh the joy of being back on that phone listening to the old lines,
"We've already told your company that we don't want to be called again!"
"I'm busy right now."
"I'll call you back. Please don't call us."
and so on. Poor things. I feel horribly guilty! On the plus side though I know that when I make that first big sale I'll be as big a sucker as ever I was for the head-patting and polite whoops. In fact, I almost hope I don't make any sales so that I don't become fully cloned into that 'gahhhhhh salesperson' once again.

Ahhh, well, if I do make a sale maybe I'll have a say in the radio station they play!

Working harder at being cool

loupo — Sat, 10 Feb 2007 12:52:00 +0000

I'm going to have to drop the cool theme, it's getting a little jaded now! Thank you so much everyone for your messages yesterday. I'm in a bit of a razz at the mo so I'll try to catch up with you later.

I just wanted to nip in to pop on a link for the band I mentioned in the other post. If anyone is interested in a cool band with a femal vocalist check out this link:

http://www.rubicks.net/listen.htm

I'll be back with my usual blather later on.

Cool to be Uncool then?

loupo — Fri, 09 Feb 2007 10:39:00 +0000

Well I appear to have been rewarded for being uncool :o) After my last entry I was expecting to be banished from the VIP area but instead I have been awarded VIP of the day! Blimey...and thank you!

I've spent the last half an hour being operated on by my three-year-old who has decided she is a doctor. So far I've had my leg removed because 'it doesn't work any more' and a new one put on, my eyes washed 'with chocolate sauce because it will make them pink and it's my favourite colour' and various scarves and gloves put on me 'to make your spots go'. Yikes! The most unnerving moment was when she emerged from the dressing up box wearing a skeleton glove.
"Are you going to give my hand an X-Ray?"
"No I'm going to check your bottom."
EEEEEeeeeekkkkkk - I hadn't realised quite how much attention she was paying when I had to go for my last smear test.
"I think we'll find another game to play..."

Cool to be Uncool then?

loupo — Fri, 09 Feb 2007 10:08:00 +0000

Well I appear to have been rewarded for being uncool :o) After my last entry I was expecting to be banished from the VIP area but instead I have been awarded VIP of the day! Blimey...and thank you!

Uncool

loupo — Thu, 08 Feb 2007 15:06:00 +0000

Am I supposed to be writing about bands here? Heck, better pop something in band-related....okay, I've never been good at this. I'm one of those people who always either gained anyone else's handmedown CDs or listened to the radio. I don't often have the patience to listen to the same songs over and over again. The result is that I do have a few favourite bands but mostly because they have one song that I love to sing to and I soon tire of that! I've put on the Manics amongst my favourites because that band, along with Catatonia remind me of my dear Welsh hubby. We used to blast their tunes out travelling to see his family down in Wales and there was something really poignant about the Welsh connection. Gav would put Queen three times for his fave band. In moments of happiness or stress he'll always find an appropriate Queen song to bung on and our two eldest daughters loyally declare that 'We Will Rock You' is their favourite song. In contrast I'm an eternal butterfly when it comes to band loyalty and I guess the worst kind of fan. Half the time I don't know the name of the band or even the name of the song, just a few lyrics and the tune to hum between. Not such a cool listener huh? I think that my three-year-old daughter knows the name of more bands than I do! I have discovered a fab one recently called Rubicks who I'd love to put on my profile. The lead singer is a woman called Vanessa Red and the music is brilliant.

That's enough for now. Thank you Sam & Awesley for your messages. Sam lol to the writing. There's a book in all of us hey! I don't think many people would want to read my blather but I do have fun blogging it. I've been a compulsive diary writer since I was about fourteen. The early entries were massively dull though, all that whining about how awful boys were and a lot of lying about how many I'd snogged!

School Run

loupo — Thu, 08 Feb 2007 00:19:00 +0000

Well why not put in a blog post about it? It's a rather hefty part of my life and one in which I spend the most time enjoying bopping along to the radio. It was only really when I started to 'do the school run' that I felt like a real parent. I had to pass my driving test to become part of the annoying school run gang.

Passing my driving test was no mean feat. I'd been one of those 'I don't need to drive, I live in London' people for far too long. I'd tentatively tried when I was pregnant with my second daughter but my cocky assurance that I'd be great when I finally got round to driving was soon flattened by the realisation that actually I was a completely crap driver. It was only really when I found that we were expecting twins that I stepped up the pace and actually tried. God that was hard! I managed to fail my first test when I was 35 weeks pregnant and could barely fit behind the wheel of the car. There was no loo at the test centre either which was entertaining. After the twins were born I managed to pass the third time round and the real fun began...learning to drive in a people carrier. As my friends had been helping to get my eldest daughter to school and back for three months I had to begin repaying the favour.

A year on and I am proud to say that I haven't crashed or dinked the car yet and I'm adept at driving while keeping the peace between six children. I have to thank Virgin for distracting the troop on wilder days. Someone, somewhere began a tradition at school of dispensing chocolates and sweets on children's birthdays and on days when I pick them up with chocolate covered faces I can almost count down the time for the sugar rush to begin. It's like driving a car of wild monkeys. On those days I turn up the radio full blast and let them headbang their sugar out (they headbang to everything). Usually one child will complain the music is too loud or too quiet. I have to grin to myself as I drive as the volume is completely dependent on what sort of mischievous mood I'm in. If I'm feeling chilled I'll go level. If I'm pre-menstural I'll keep it level but then stick it on full blast when any arguments get too annoyingly repetative. If I'm happy I'll bung it on loud and lead the singing in a true pub-singer style. My singing is rubbish but my loyal children tell me they love my voice. My friend's children giggle and agree that they can sing better. I fondly remember my Mum's out-of-tune singing. I think I loved her singing more for it and laugh at the fact that my own children are going through the same torture.

At least I know that I'm introducing the wee ones to great music. Anyone else doing the same?

Lou
xxx

(Virgin pays your bills) Three weeks on

loupo — Mon, 05 Feb 2007 14:34:00 +0000

and I'm knackered. The twins have been teething for months and the last few weeks have been particularly bad. I've been clawing my way out of bed for two of those three to listen out from 7 in the morning after sleepless nights. This week I've decided to survive by getting up just before seven thirty to catch the 'you've only got five minutes left' cry. Every minute is precious! Then it's a battle to keep an ear out between clothing four children for the school run and dashing back to the car after being held up at the school gates by someone yapping! It's painful. I have to say that of all the competitions I've ever entered, this is the one that I most regret entering!!!