Mum’s the word with family time
Naturally, I’m a Nancy fan Like Naga, I’m already home
LADY Hale, 74, and Nancy Pelosi, 79, are still kicking ass and leading from the front: the former as a Supreme Court Judge, the latter as Speaker of the US House of Representatives.
Both epitomise the clever woman that Michelle Obama extols; the female who knows that the key to power is to study hard and use her loaf.
Consider, however, their contrasting approaches to personal presentation.
La Pelosi, I think it fair to say, is dyed, stretched and surgerised to within an inch of her life. Her hair is raven black, her eyes wide with surprise and her complexion aided by expensive cosmetics.
Lady Hale is au naturel. Her hair is grey, her wrinkles have free rein and her spider brooch stands alone.
Stylewise, I’m an unashamed Pelosi fan.
IS anything on earth sweeter than finding that the conclusions of years of learned research endorse in every way precisely what you’re already doing? In the midst of a perfectly delightful threeday sojourn in glorious East Cork with Daughter the Younger and grand-baby III (five months) I happened upon a thesis courtesy of Harvard Medical School. What do these eminent physicians proclaim?
Nothing, they tell us, is better for your physical and mental wellbeing than taking a mother/daughter trip. Just hanging out together does wonders for your immune responses, relieves stress and decreases your chances of heart disease. So revivifying is the effect that it nurtures body and soul as effectively as a sound night’s sleep or years spent on a healthy diet.
Boy was I thrilled. It was all I could do not to nudge passers-by and fill them in: “Hey, I’m here with my daughter, and just having a casual latte with her in a field of barley is magnificent for my cholesterol.”
I’ve been back just one night and already I can feel a decline. I’m less jolly, downbeat, already craving that mummy/daughter closeness.
THIS stuff is especially poignant because I barely remember sharing a private personal moment with my late mum. Sure, we met up for tons of family stuff. Yes, I consumed whole flocks of her roast chickens over the years. But she hailed from a different generation. The very idea of spending money on frolicking with me would have been anathema. She didn’t work outside the home. She holidayed with my father. That was a wife’s job then. Sloping off with your adult child with the sole objective of having fun wasn’t on the agenda.
I could easily have squeezed in some mumbased R&R but we never did and now she’s been dead 24 long years and Harvard Medical School is telling me it was a major, potentially fatal, missed opportunity.
So here’s the thing: you might not have the time, the cash or the inclination to expend precious annual leave wallowing in your children’s company.You might think they’d loathe the idea, or only accept out of duty – but don’t ignore the experts.
Tell your kids – I’m sure sons will do just as well as daughters – that a trip with you is vital for their health and longevity. And let the good times roll. APROPOS the controversy surrounding Naga Munchetty’s comments about President Trump’s invitation to four minority female members of the House of Representatives to “go back home” even though three were born in America, a listener to my radio show once said I could never be British as I am Jewish.
I told him I couldn’t imagine what else I could possibly be. I was born in the now-defunct Royal Northern Hospital in London’s Holloway Road, arguably within the sound of Bow Bells, making me technically a Cockney.
I read English Literature at Trinity College, University of Cambridge, I sang in the school choir and I know every word of Jerusalem.
My parents, grandparents and one of my greatgrandmas were born in the UK. Which country did he think I came from if it isn’t Blake’s “green and pleasant land” – and where would he suggest I go back to?