A girl can look

I woke up this morning – yes, I know what’s so amazing about that we all wake up – at least I hope we do. But I dreamt of somebody I haven’t seen, heard from of even thought of for 30 years.  What is that about?


In the dream I was a co judge on the BBC Strictly Show with Amanda Holden. The man in question looked exactly how I remembered him but better looking. And yes, we did get it together – in the dream. And very nice it was. Oops maybe too much information.


It reminded me of another man I once knew. I was 15 and desperately in love with this art student called Martin Oliver. He always wore a donkey jacket and had a girlfriend called Jane. I know I am in danger of repeating myself but it is very odd that I remember all these names from so long ago and yet my short memory is gone. Anyway, I am digressing again – he was not the remotely bit interested in me and probably didn’t know I even existed. But I would spend hours sitting in the corner of The Rutland and Derby (an art school hang out and nobody ever checked ID in those days) staring at him hoping that he would  just maybe glance my way) Fast forward 30 years and I am working at the BBC as a producer and I get an email from – Martin Oliver. He had heard my name in the credits and wondered if I was the same Roma Felstein as back in the day and would I like to meet. So, he did know who I was then! I was all of a flutter as I had this vision of this lovely young man in a donkey jacket. But what I hadn’t taken into account was aging. We met for coffee and what a let-down – he was not 18 – he was not wearing a donkey jacket and he was not cute. I on the other hand was still 15 – in my head.

sexy man

And being 15 – well a girl can look

And now for something very different – entirely too much info about my private life. As cranes go, I think yesterday was every little boy or maybe girls dream come true. My neighbours resumed their loft construction and the biggest crane arrived on the street. I so wished that the boys were little and still living here as they would have been enthralled. Instead I was enthralled for them. I sat glued to my window watching in anticipation of them dropping the huge load of wood they were lifting high above the trees. I did wonder for a moment if we should move  the car!

So, there’s another bonus of lockdown – “I can stare as long as sheep or cows” (William Henry Davies Poem Leisure). My time is my own and I can do what I like with it. It is rather liberating in a confined sort of way.


What is not liberating is housework and I had been putting off the inevitable for a long time. The inevitable being the oven. It was only when yesterday after I roasted a chicken and the house smelt of burning that I realised the time was nigh. I am not alone here apparently oven cleaning is the most important yet overlooked aspect of kitchen cleaning. It was the carbon fumes from left over bits of old food at the bottom of the oven that was smelling the house. I know yuck what kind of woman am I – a dirty slut methinks.

It would seem that these fumes can change the taste of food especially cakes. So that’s why my cakes are not turning out well. That said I have just made a sticky ginger and treacle cake for Toby and Linda’s 2nd anniversary.  Forgetting what bicarb does and possibly  putting in a bit too much in the melted mixture on the stove, I had  what can only be described as an exploding  volcano moment!

Note to self:  Measure accurately when making cakes

The Oven – armed with rubber gloves and kitchen spray I  began my oven onslaught,  only to realise within a few minutes that kitchen spray was not going to remove 2 months of dirt. My cleaner stopped coming 2 months ago. So, I have a reprieve until Amazon send me some oven cleaner.


Such riveting information I can imagine you are all glued to your seats with anticipation of what is coming next. Sadly, not a lot. I will finish with a little anecdote about my school days which you might have gathered by now were not particularly happy.  But I was reminded of them when I  received an invoice this morning addressed to Aroma.


At Primary School when the children were in a particularly vindictive mood they would say “there’s a nasty aroma around here.” And then they would form a snake and walk around the playground chanting “join on the end if you want to play except Aroma.” I think this helped to shape who I am today. Lord of the flies had nothing on my school days.

“Lets be careful out there”

Author: ladyserendipidy

Journalist, event planner, mother, animal lover, not very good bridge or scrabble player, hopeless housekeeper, ex social worker, radio producer, tv executive, hater of almost all insects especially the eight legged ones. And if I am ever allowed out of my house, intrepid traveler.

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