I desperately wanted Meccano ... didn't get it but younger brother did ... I was given a Bayko set and spent hours designing houses ... but at Grammar School my parents were told that architecture wasn't a career suitable for young ladies and I should be discouraged.
My mum was told the same thing. She was refused entry to some top l universities for the same reason too despite having the grades. It can be a fairly horrible profession to be in for women.
If you can keep your head, while those around you are losing theirs, you may not have grasped the seriousness of the situation.
And yet some have made it to the very top ... and I know some (younger than me) who are successful ...
Social work and child protection work can be a pretty horrible profession for some folk ... some of us have tougher skins than others ... I spent some time in a Hot Rod garage (not the gentlest of environments) and helping to run a general building firm ... again, not for the most sensitive of women ... I've worked with some tough nuts ... I reckon I could cope with most architects and builders
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
I’ve still got my Bayco set Dove, like you would spend hours with it.
My daughter has been a child minder for years, she’s had hundreds of little children passing through, what she has observed is that when it comes to dressing up, the girls know exactly what they want to wear, Princess, ballet outfits, draped in bits of ribbon and lace, the boys, tutu and fireman or policeman’s helmet and high heeled shoes, they often mix the clothes. It doesn’t mean they are of any particular gender, just a bit slower to work out what they want, by the time they leave her at 4/5 they are generally testosterone charged little boys racing around as boys do.
Gardening on the wild, windy west side of Dartmoor.
I have a friend who is a building surveyor. She didn't find the guys in the office as hard to deal with as the clowns she regularly met with outdated ideas and attitudes. The most notable being the one on the phone who, when asked if she could spell her name [Mhairi, which is pronounced Varri] replied 'isn't that Mari?' As she'd had her name for several decades, I'm not sure of her exact reply, but I think it was difficult to do so without several eff words.
It's a place where beautiful isn't enough of a word....
I live in west central Scotland - not where that photo is...
If I dressed up it was to play Cowboys and Indians ... even when they’re little children recognise what pleases their parents ... little girls in princess dresses get told they’re pretty ... many parents will laugh if they wear a policeman’s helmet with a tutu and tell them that those don’t go together.
I escaped all that as Ma never told me I was pretty in case I became as vain as her dippy cousin. 🙄 I definitely wasn’t encouraged to wear pink or frills. 😆
Years later I had reason to appear at a village fete in a pink tutu, fishnet tights, red peep toe stiletto shoes, a policeman’s jacket and helmet ... I was about 26 years old ... I had a lot of fun 😉 🤣
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
And have you continued with that outfit over the years @Dovefromabove? Or just at weekends perhaps... I'm smiling looking at the frame of photos I did for my dad - pix of mum, some with myself and sister. We were dressed identically - as was the case back then. Matching dresses and hand knitted cardigans.There's a colour one though, where we're dressed differently with my sis sporting soem fetching shades
It's a place where beautiful isn't enough of a word....
I live in west central Scotland - not where that photo is...
Not in the winter @Fairygirl ... I once suffered from Extensive Equestrian Panniculitis (@Punkdoc may have seen photos of my thighs in a medical journal) ... it’s not something I want to repeat. 😨
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
When I worked in an office, I had an exasperated, snotty woman on the phone. She demanded to speak to a man. I passed her to a chap who was emptying the waste bins. He was happy to oblige.
Ma once had a problem making a telephone order for some stock feed. The merchant wanted to speak to her husband. (This was in the 60s). Ma explained to him that the farm cheques required her signature as well as Pa’s and that in future they’d be buying stock feed from their competitor.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
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Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
My daughter has been a child minder for years, she’s had hundreds of little children passing through, what she has observed is that when it comes to dressing up, the girls know exactly what they want to wear, Princess, ballet outfits, draped in bits of ribbon and lace, the boys, tutu and fireman or policeman’s helmet and high heeled shoes, they often mix the clothes. It doesn’t mean they are of any particular gender, just a bit slower to work out what they want, by the time they leave her at 4/5 they are generally testosterone charged little boys racing around as boys do.
The most notable being the one on the phone who, when asked if she could spell her name [Mhairi, which is pronounced Varri] replied 'isn't that Mari?'
As she'd had her name for several decades, I'm not sure of her exact reply, but I think it was difficult to do so without several eff words.
I live in west central Scotland - not where that photo is...
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
Or just at weekends perhaps...
I'm smiling looking at the frame of photos I did for my dad - pix of mum, some with myself and sister. We were dressed identically - as was the case back then. Matching dresses and hand knitted cardigans.There's a colour one though, where we're dressed differently with my sis sporting soem fetching shades
I live in west central Scotland - not where that photo is...
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
Serves the old mare right
I used to get hellish chillblains on my thighs @Dovefromabove. Nowadays, I can be choosy about how much cold I work in
I live in west central Scotland - not where that photo is...
Ma once had a problem making a telephone order for some stock feed. The merchant wanted to speak to her husband. (This was in the 60s). Ma explained to him that the farm cheques required her signature as well as Pa’s and that in future they’d be buying stock feed from their competitor.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.