Just call me q

A woman contemplating life, incognito

Today I’m thinking about bees…


Today I’m thinking about bees…

because I’ve got some in the roof-space of my summer house and I’m too scared to go in there in-case they attack me.

Cartoon picture of bumble bees flying towards a summer house with speech bubbles

I’ve done a Google search and – I’m not 100% sure but – I think that they might be bumblebees (rather than honey bees) because they’re round and fluffy, they have black bodies with a yellow stripe and a big white bottom. (Actually, that last bit sounds like me. Perhaps I’m part bumblebee… Mmm, maybe I should get my family tree checked out, you know, to make sure there are no nests in there…)

Cartoon picture pf a bumble bee talking with speech bubble

Anyway, I’ve decided to get a registered beekeeper to come out and take a look because if they are bumble bees then they’re classified as an endangered species and that means they’re going to have to stay there for the duration. (Great. How am I gonna get my inflatable flamingo out of the summer house now, then?)

Photo of a sad-looking inflatable flamingo on water with cartoon speech bubble

And then, if they turn out to be honey bees, I’m going to have to empty the summer house, disconnect the strip lighting and then saw a hole in the ceiling so that the beekeeper can get the (lovely) little blighters out so he can take them back to his hive. Arghh. I don’t know which one’s worse. Actually, yes I do: the second one. The absolute faff of it all.

Cartoon picture of person holding a hammer and saw and cartoon speech bubble

Still, at least it’ll give me the opportunity to ask the bloke the following Very Important Questions:

a) What do I do if they go to attack me (apart from run round the garden screaming hysterically)?

b) How can I encourage them to come back next summer but in a different location?

and top of the list…

c) On a scale of 1-10 how embarrassed do you think they are about having such big, white bottoms?!

Cartoon picture of a bee's behind with speech bubble talking

A Poem To Greta Thunberg…


On 12th March 2019 young people and children all over the world marched AGAIN for #climatechange, as did Greta Thunberg who started the whole fabulous #climatechange strike marches. Let’s hope the adults listen before it’s too late.

Dear Greta,

seeing what you

and all the other young people do

makes me want to be

a better person.

Love from Q x

Part of a climatechange poster of the earth burning with the caption #climatechange Let's sort it out...
Photo of a #climatechange chalk writing on stone slabs saying "keep plastic out of the ocean"
Photo of a #climatechange chalk writing on stone slabs saying "climate change is worse than homework".
Photo of a #climatechange chalk writing saying "love our round planet".
Photo of #climatechange chalk writing saying "earn less, buy less, live more".
Photo of #climatechange chalk writing saying "2048 no fish in our ocean".

Hey, Three Year Old, Thankyou For Dissing My Hair…


born with messy hair justcallmeq Q queline

I was never happy with my hair. I think it’s because – when I was born  the nurses (apparently) flocked to see my mass of wavy locks because “it looked so unusual,” said mum. “Odd,” confided dad when I was older and out of earshot of mum. And at school my hair styles were never conventional. I did short and cropped; I did fierce and ‘mohicaned;’ I did permed, shaggy, straight, shaved, curly, crimped, you name it, I did it; all in an attempt to hide my natural look which was… ‘messy.’ But nothing worked. My hair, it seemed, was always in a permanent state of dishevelment and it bothered me.

hairstyles messy curly permed straight crimped shaggy shaved short justcallmeq Q queline

And it finally came to a head (my head) shortly after I’d signed up to do a spot of part-time nannying for an agency.

My first assignment was to a mum who’d just given birth and wanted help with ironing and with occupying her three year old son. This sounded right up my street. So I went to the house, I knocked on the door and it was opened by a perfect mother with perfect hair wearing perfectly ironed clothes who then proceeded to lead me into a perfectly styled lounge to meet her perfect little baby and three year old boy. I felt like I’d stepped into a ‘Hello’ magazine.

perfect hair justcallmeq Q queline

Anyway, I introduced myself, I made friends with my charge and then I began to carry out my duties. No problem. And all was going (I don’t want to say ‘perfectly’ but it was so, do you mind if I do?) perfectly until the boy suddenly blurted out:

Why is your hair so messy?

messy hair cartoon justcallmeq Q queline

Well, I tell you, for a split second time stood still. And then a tidal wave of feelings swept over me. I felt embarrassment and anger; I felt inadequacy, helplessness and confusion.

Why do children always have to say it as it is?” I thought. “It was bad enough the time that little girl told me I had a yellow tooth in the middle of the check-out queue at Sainsburys. Why, oh, why do these things keep happening to me?”

yellow tooth cartoon justcallmeq Q queline

But then, you know, a strange thing happened. As the wave gently began to recede, acknowledgement, acceptance and – very slowly – gratitude began to reveal themselves to me. I suddenly realized, as I stood there on this woman’s pure white carpet trying hard not to simultaneously cry and stress-wee, that resistance was futile. I would always have wayward follicles; it was my fate. So why try to fight it? And so I stopped. And from that day on, ‘messy’ officially became ‘a style’ in my books.

And I didn’t say it at the time (because he were only small) but, “thank you, three year old boy for dissing my hair. You helped me learn to love it.”

cartoon justcallmeq Q queline