There are all sorts of isms that people get irate about aren’t there, and by golly, irate IS how they get, myself included sometimes. In my earlier, younger, ~ ok then MUCH younger days it was feminism. Heaven forbid I would burn my bra like some well known women were doing ~ not really my thing ~ but I did and still do dislike the thought that men were in certain boxes, and women were in theirs.

I would add to that, and state that if both parties were happy with this, who should object? Certainly not me, I always wanted everyone to be happy with their life, and as I look back to the 50s, and then 60s when I got married, the 2 parties (in the main) followed the pattern of the man working, and the wife being at home bringing up the children. You notice I don’t mention her “working” at home ~ as a young wife when anyone asked what your job was, most replies were “I’m just” a housewife! Thank goodness the perception has shifted, and I hope by now that as an oldie, I appreciate the difference.

To me, the ism in feminism , means having choices, and I am all for that! One of my mantras over the years when anyone asked me what I did, was “I’m an independent woman in the prime of my life”!! Well,~ my other mantra was “Don’t you just love wine?” Both of them being copied by my daughter who is a working mother with children. I even started a whats ap group titled Independent women in the Prime of our Lives, and we have a group chat which is sometimes hilarious.

Two of them have been friends of mine for years when we were Army Wives and who fought tooth and nail for the Army to use our correct names. All wives used to be referred to as WO, (wife-of) husbands name rank and number. When in Army hospital, visiting an Army doctor, and seeing an Army dentist, we were all down as WO blahh blahh. Sons were SO and daughters were DO. It took years of campaigning but we got there in the end, and we all received a memo from on high that we were to be referred to by our correct names from that date. Success!! I have that very memo, framed, and it used to hang in the spare toilet ~ a fitting place I thought!

And so now I am a Volunteer for OCAY and am able to voice my thoughts and feelings, which I can do at any time,~ at the same time taking my clients thoughts and feelings and projecting them to the appropriate recipient on their behalf. A role which I love, and so I was appalled recently at a phone call I had the other day.

I had kept a personal appointment, an hour away from my home, and was 20 minutes early. No one there, door locked, car park empty and not a soul in site. Oh dear. An hour later, and still could not get into the building, and still no one to be seen. What to do? Could not telephone, as all calls had to go through head office, and they are only avail on Mon-Fri ~ this was on a Saturday. Headed home, and rang head office early Monday morning.

Was quite calm, expecting a mistake was made, and lets face it, we have all made those, but the man I spoke to informed me that the place WAS open on the Saturday, but that I must have been confused as there are a lot of office buildings around that all look the same!! My reply, I have to say, was via the steam coming off me and went something like “I may be 75 but I have been twice to that office, and the 6ft letters on the wall tell me it is the correct office, and if they checked the CCTV they would see a 75 year old trying for an hour to get in”!!! And he was then blaming my “confusion” as their excuse for a mistake. Apologies from him on the company’s behalf (calls are monitored) but a feeling that ageism has caught me up, ~ does he know I am an advocate?? I am going to re-educate him, and if I can’t, I know some brilliant advocates who will.

Oh, and if I get a letter of apology, I may just frame it, and hang it ……