Victoria Hawkins' Week

INSPIRATION is key, of course, when you are tasked with writing a weekly column. As the years tick by the obvious has been done to death and you've dealt with all the old chestnuts such as covering your own hilarious (you think at the time) version of 'why is it that you always get odd socks in the wash', horror holiday stories etc.

INSPIRATION is key, of course, when you are tasked with writing a weekly column. As the years tick by the obvious has been done to death and you've dealt with all the old chestnuts such as covering your own hilarious (you think at the time) version of 'why is it that you always get odd socks in the wash', horror holiday stories etc. Then we've had the first tattoo and tongue piercing; welcomed new babies; written about the paralytic husband after the rugby dinner and the even more ghastly knickers stuck inside yesterday's tights, stuck down the trousers scenario, which then shifted anklewards and into public view whilst walking across the car park.

Often the worst-case personal scenario has turned out to be a column-saver. Even as the disaster unfolds your mind thinks, oh I can write about that. So there has been the intoxicated student son who awoke one morning to find himself clingfilmed to the kitchen table in his digs, the student daughter's break-in (when she was upstairs in bed), and her lovely close neighbours in year two, viz the inhabitants of the crack den opposite and the drug dealer next door.

Then, of course, there are those tales which can never be put into print, but basically you - and your poor family, have to share. So at this point I'm kind of hoping that the chap I spoke to on the phone recently has decided NOT to read me again, this week. He'd rung about something completely different and recognised my name. 'Oh,' he'd said, 'you write that column every week, don't you?' and went on to say he didn't often read it, only occasionally, because quite frankly it's a load of rubbish. He also hoped I didn't mind him telling me that. How to respond? Well, being polite, and, fair dos, I believe the words 'thank you' came out.

Later when I rang back to answer his original query, he said he also hoped I didn't mind him saying that it was funny that my voice sounded nothing like he imagined from my picture. He seemed to be a decent chap, so I said, oh, and he continued, 'the picture of you is quite nice…'


You may also want to watch:


Now I reckon I know exactly how my ma felt when she met an old acquaintance recently after more than a few decades who said words to the affect that it was such a pity, she used to be so attractive when she was younger. Still they do say honesty is the best policy.

Most Read

Become a Supporter

This newspaper has been a central part of community life for many years. Our industry faces testing times, which is why we're asking for your support. Every contribution will help us continue to produce local journalism that makes a measurable difference to our community.

Become a Supporter
Comments powered by Disqus