Mrs Williams

Ridiculous things

So I’m not managing many interesting or thought-provoking blogs lately as I am in the final month of my degree and, frankly, there is nothing I want to do less than MORE writing when I put the essays down for the day


This needed noting

Today, I sent Matt off to the supermarket because we’re going away this weekend and needed a few bits, and I was already going to meet with my lovely friend Louise for coffee. Sadly since moving we’re struggling for a supermarket alternative and are caught in the iron grip of Sainsburys, bleurgh!

Anyway, I needed a new razor as I always use them for longer than is appropriate, and keep them in the shower until they’re so blunt and rusty that they cut me and leave me in very real danger of blood poisoning (feel free to judge, even I judge me). So I popped it on the shopping list, and my husband being the new man he is set off to get my organic lasagne sheets and new razors.

I was NOT prepared for what he came back with…

My razors have a floral scented handle


I mean seriously, is that a joke? I’m sure its hard to be the person who has to come up with an angle to make bic razors better than any other. I get that a razor is a razor and that it must be hard to be the cutting edge product (pun intended)…but scented handles?! Am I missing something here? WHY?

So, feel free to comment and tell me the most ridiculous thing you have found in a supermarket…the most useless or absurd. Or comment if you can come up with a valid reason why I might need a razor with a scented handle!!


PS…This is how much of a new man he is, he’s trying to work out what flavour this one is

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My friend Mel ( tagged me in a blog, so now apparently I am supposed to tell you 7 things you might not know about me….as I’m pretty darn gobby, there tends to be not much people don’t know, but here goes.

1)I once won £1000 in Argos vouchers…when I was only 11. Mum and Dad made me tithe them (bought £100 worth of footballs for children in Romania) and we sold a lot of the vouchers and put the money into savings, but I also got some exciting argos goodies.

2)I am a middle lane driver…annoying I know…but only this week have I discovered (when Matt asked and I started thinking about it) that the reason is because I quite like being equidistant from the sides of the road. I think that I believe I’m less likely to die if I’m not too close to either side even when there are cars hurtling past (or getting agitated) on either side. Now that I have realised this, I am trying to be more logical in my driving.

3) I have lived in 14 houses, and moved house 16 times in my life (lived in a couple of houses more than once). My closest uni friend had lived in the same house for her whole life until coming to Southampton for university…I am half jealous of people who have done this, but equally tend to get itchy feet after a couple of years somewhere and need to move.

4) I am 5’9″ and therefore cant really ever wear heels or I look like a giant person.I was taller than Matt at our wedding (ok everyone knows Im tall, but maybe not how tall)(I didn’t put an apostrophe in ‘I’m’ because Matt told me to, so I’m being stubborn…)

5) I have an irrational hatred of my armpits. I loathe them and don’t like to ever see them, but am assured by a few people that they’re fairly normal. I am unconvinced. Hence this photo is both one of my most AND least favourite from our wedding

6) I have known my lovely husband Matthew for the whole of my life, he lived (kinda) with my parents for 2 years before they were even married or had me, I was close friends with his younger brother and sister and stayed in the same house as him on a few occasions when visiting them, and yet it took until January 2010 for us to have a proper conversation (excluding marmite related arguments) and realise that we were actually made for each other.

7) and finally…I hate Christmas. Controversial I know. However, until I was 17 years old i spent EVERY Christmas for the whole of my life serving meals to old or homeless people, and whilst this is noble, I didnt do it out of choice and I resented having to do it. Since then I have had a grandparent die in Christmas week one year, had a nasty breakup in the same week the following year, and this year I will be 18000 miles away from my parents. All of these factors have resulted in me being a massive scrooge about the whole thing.

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Every year, for the whole of my life, I have observed the 2 minutes silence on Rememberance Sunday. Usually with a Salvation Army band on a march through a town with someone I know playing the last post. I went from not really knowing why I was being silent (but knowing from the look on my Mother’s face that life wouldn’t be worth living if I made a sound) to having an understanding about loss of life and the sacrifice of many men and women for our country.

For the last few years I have struggled to deal with the fact that I don’t really agree with the wars that my country are embroiled in, I feel like the political decisions made have been wrong and, at times, downright immoral and I have sometimes found that that clouds my thoughts on rememberance day.

However, this year things have changed. My third year placement for my degree sees me involved in delivering a programme to 16-25 year olds who are not in education, employment or training. The two men that I deliver this programme with are seconded for  4 months from the British Army. This time last year they were in Afghanistan, fighting with the Second Royal Tank Regiment, and they will go out there again when their regiment goes back out in 2 years. They really are great guys, but equally they are just regular guys who joined the army, and go to Afghanistan because that is their job. One of them also went to Iraq, for the same reason. Frankly, from talking to them, I’m pretty surprised at how little money they earn to do this, I think I had weird ideas about army salaries. Equally, I realise from speaking with them how little I know about what our forces in Afghanistan are doing, despite my opinion about their reasons for being there. When I hear some of the things they have been involved with, including rebuilding communities and ensuring their ongoing stability and security, I cant help but feel that, whatever the reasons we initially got involved out there, that some of these things are important and good. I also know, now, the emotional impact there would be on me if anything happened to these guys, having known them for 7 weeks…never mind how their families and friends would feel. So this morning, I and they did a presentation to our young people about what rememberance is about (one of the young people, aged 20, thought it was to remember those who died in the World Trade Center) and then we stood with the firemen we share a building with at 11am and remembered.

During that presentation, my two colleagues, proudly dressed in uniform they deserve massive respect for wearing, shared their stories from Afghanistan. Then, they asked the young people we work with if they would come and stand with us at 11am and remember. But then the key thing, they told our young people that if they didn’t want to come and do that, that we would respect that and that they could stay behind. Because they have that choice, because we live in a country where we can remember people who are willing to fight for us, but where we can also choose, disrespectful or not, not to remember them. Equally, despite what I have learned in the last few weeks, I can still hold the opinion that some of our politicians made wrong choices when starting this war, and I can tell my friends, I can blog about it, I can tweet about it, and I can still apply for a job with the British Government when I qualify next year. I am allowed to have an opinion and I am allowed to express it. So, right or wrong, I am proud to stand in rememberance and support of the men and women who are fighting to ensure that I am still able to do that.

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In my pencil case…

…as previously suggested, Im procrastinating from uni work so…

I’m in the library today and am fascinated to explore the contents of my pencil case (because its way more interesting than working…)

In said PC, I have 8, yes EIGHT biros which I have stolen acquired, some of them I dont even know where from. I dont think of myself as a thief, I like to think Im a pretty upstanding member of the community. Im training to be a social worker for goodness sakes. Yet I genuinely have NO idea where most of these pens have come from. Do I have a secret kleptomania that I don’t know about?! If I go home and look under my bed will I find stolen clothing? Jewellery? cigarettes that I don’t even smoke??

Doesn’t really bear thinking about.

Todays selection…


A Microsoft Office 2010 pen with excellent pull out scrolly bit outlining the relative features of the Home and Student, Home and Business and Professional editions.

A T-Mobile pen (my phone is with orange…)

A Vitality Healthcare pen ( – on further research this is a private healthcare company, cant imagine how a student got hold of that)

An Ellington Lodge/Concorde Club pen (that one’s easy, Anna stole it when she worked there. My whole group of friends at uni have several each. Anna DOES have pen kleptomania, I may have caught it from her. Good pens though, not smudgy)

Another T-Mobile pen…oh dear, they really are after me arent they?! Orange, you prob need to step up your game or I might have to consider a move to T-Mobile purely to ensure my stationary needs are met.

A “Chlamidya…Have you got it?!” pen (dont worry, nothing untoward, Im a student social worker, we get given these things.) (the pens, NOT the STI)

A University Print Centre and Bindery Pen. Sadly no map to said Print Centre on the pen, there is a phone number, perhaps I should call them and let them know I’ve got their pen.

A Motorola Pen. Its a bit fancier than the others. Shame really cos their phones are crap, the pens could mislead you into thinking they produce decent phones.


What a minefield.


I dont reckon Im alone though. I think every home is infiltrated with secret pen depositors. What  a sneaky advertising ploy.

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Im not doing well at posting

Im snowed under with uni work right now, and although Im not doing much of it, I’m also not doing anything else, because every time I start something I feel guilty that I should be working…

But here’s a little something that made me smile…

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Man does not live by juice alone

This weekend I attempted a juice detox…

I have struggled to have any motivation to be healthy since the wedding, and have enjoyed food and lots of sitting on the sofa with my new husband. I havent actually put on much weight, but I feel pretty grim. So the theory of the juice detox is that you shove some vegetables into a juicer and it does everything to the veg that your body would normally do to it, so that your gut gets a rest. You then (supposedly) dont eat anything else for 7 days, and by the end of it, after headaches, spots and mood-swings, you look and feel amazing.

So I started on Saturday with Carrot and Ginger juice…it was pretty good. Then lunch was orange juice which was amazing. Then dinner…ahhh dinner…it was all going so well until CABBAGE AND CELERY JUICE

Genuinely hideous

One of the worst things i’ve ever tasted

and I was so freaking hungry, I couldn’t resist a portion of Anna’s beautiful Moussaka.

So I failed.

Thats the whole story really

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Last week I went on a residential with the team I am currently working with. 4 staff, and 14 young people out in the middle of nowhere doing abseiling, climbing, canoeing and various other activities. It was lots of fun, and made a noteable difference to the team dynamic which was great to see. However, I sustained an injury…not a broken arm slipping off an abseiling tower, not some kind of concussion from climbing. Nope. nothing so logical. I was helping a young person down off something and got my thumb bent right back. Its not broken, but I have torn the ligaments and once the swelling goes down I will have to have it assessed again to see if it will require surgery. I currently cant unbutton my jeans to go to the loo, nor can I chop vegetables or carry anything with one of my hands.


But this isnt the first ridiculous injury I have sustained. In fact, I am a little bit renowned for it…and have been mocked mercilessly this weekend by my husband as he recalled some of them.

1) Broken nose – Take 1

I started young with stupid injuries. Aged 5, my Grandma went on a holiday to Australia and brought me back the little  Qantas pack she’d received on the plane, containing your standard mini toothbrush, socks and the famous flight mask to help you try to sleep…so (naturally) I thought I’d have a go at pretending I was blind with the help of the mask. Perhaps the beginnings of my Social Work mentality, trying to empathise with people with a visual impairment…either way, attempting to climb the stairs with said mask on, I didnt fall down them, I just smacked into the wall at the top of them. Broken nose. Brilliant

2) Head split- Take 1

At a similar age, I fell out of bed at my godmothers house, smacked my head on the corner of a chest of drawers and needed stitches.

3) Broken nose – Take 2

This time I was 19, trying to jump a step, again at the top of some stairs…missed, smacked into a wall. Nose broken again…some people never learn

4) Head split – Take 2

bent down to pick something up…stood up, head met corner of shelf. Head bleeding profusely. This time the hospital used glue instead of stitches so i couldnt wash my hair for 3 days….so had a nice pink streak in it from the blood. Classic.

5) Earring disaster

I was 21 before I plucked up the courage to get my ears pierced. They looked so cute with the little silver studs in. Then one morning I got up and went to look at them and one of them had fallen out…or so i thought. Feeling round the back of the ear, the back of the earring was still there…the stud hadnt dropped out…nope, it was IN my ear and had somehow been absorbed into it during the night. The man at A&E who had to push it out was NOT gentle. (Incidentally I’ve just had them done again, fingers crossed for more success)

5) Malaria…

Well ok, not quite, but I did get some pretty nasty bites which got so infected that I couldnt walk. One of them was 15 cm in diameter across the back of one thigh. So what tropical paradise was I visiting when this happened? Ha, if only!! These bites were sustained in sunny….Doncaster!!!

6) Prayer injury.

This is not even a joke, I wish it was. A few weeks ago at church I went forward for a response time, knelt at the front, said some prayers and then getting up felt a shooting pain in my shoulder. After that I couldnt move my head. Two days later, Matt made me go to A&E (again…) and I had ligament damage to my shoulder. I’ve heard of prayer healing injuries, but this is the first instance I’ve heard of of it causing them!!

Thats the only ones I cam remember at the moment, but I am beginning to feel like a disaster area!!

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