Tag: menopause

293: this is not a quiet riot

This week my Beloved and I – along with a lot of other people – have been watching Riot Women on BBC iPlayer. Superficially, it’s sweary and funny and loud. We’d have loved it for the soundtrack which is punky and riotous and had us shazamming like mad at times. It’s enjoyable on that level but there’s so much more going on. I’ve recommended it to pretty much everyone I’ve spoken to this week, especially my middle aged women friends (and my hairdresser, my work colleagues, people on the bus…)

Created by Sally Wainwright (Happy Valley), the central premise is a group of middle aged Yorkshire women who get together to form a punk band for a local talent contest. So far, so cosy British comedy. You know the band is going to come together, you know there will be trials and tribulations along the way, and you know there will be a happy ending or at least a cliffhanger teaser for season 2. I won’t give away any spoilers here.

These women, including the always excellent Tamsin Grieg (Black Books, Friday Night Dinner), and Joanna Scanlan (No Offence, The Thick of It), are full-on menopausal. This is not a drama of stereotypical hot flashes and ‘ooh, it’s her time of life’ comments. It covers the depression, the rage, the way relationships change, the lack of tolerance for other people’s rubbish, the invisibility. Dr Louise Newsom of The Menopause Charity is credited as medical advisor.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/mediacentre/2025/riot-women-trailer-sally-wainwright

Behind the punk band and the anger, there’s the women’s relationships with the people around them: Scanlan’s adopted son is pulling away but searching for his birth mother, and she no longer feels needed. She’s also coping with her mother, who has dementia, and battling with her sibling over the best care for her. Greig’s mother (Anne Reid on top form) is also declining, and as she’s recently retired from the police force she’s called on more and more to cope with her. She’s also still trying to support a young protegee in the force with misogynistic behaviour, and navigating single life. There’s domestic violence, frustration, sex, estranged children, extended families, childcare responsibilities and life juggling in a way that feels all too familiar. There’s sexist men who don’t deal well with rejection (Peter Davison, among others), and bosses turning a blind eye. HRT alone is not going to solve this lot.

In some ways the subject matter is close to that of the equally funny and angry We Are Lady Parts (Channel 4), and a battle of the bands between the two might cause some sort of TV explosion: expectations of how women ought to be behaving at certain points in their lives. Who puts these expectations on us: the young Muslim women should be getting married and finding a good job. The menopausal women should be content with being unpaid carers and shouldering the responsibilities the world is giving them. Being given a mouthpiece – or at least a microphone – is the release. Both bands have to deal with their families being embarrassed or outraged by their behaviour, as they’re sticking several fingers up at societal norms.

Both series are worth a watch – they are sweary though, so maybe not with the kids!

Things making me happy this week

Crocheting a tiny sprout. He’s called Barry, after Barry the Time Sprout who features in a lot of Robert Rankin’s extremely silly books. We first meet him in Armageddon: The Musical, where he’s lodged in Elvis Presley’s head. Of course.

The safe arrival of my colleague’s new baby and an excuse to make baby crochet things!

Christmas jumper crochet on the train. Next up, more of these and back to the piggies. I’ll be at Epping Christmas Market on 6th December, unless the weather misbehaves again.

Bill Nighy’s new podcast, Ill-Advised by Bill Nighy

The return of my fringe, which is like instant Botox without the needles.

What I’ve been reading:

The Cruellest Month/The Brutal Telling/Bury Your Dead – Louise Penny

The Cure of Souls/The Lamp of the Wicked  – Phil Rickman (Audible)

The Life and Loves of a He-Devil – Graham Norton

230: there’s a nap for that

I like sleep. I’m a big fan of it, quite frankly, and am willing to embrace it at the drop of an eyelid. Lockdown was brilliant, as I was on furlough, it was really hot and I could have siestas in my hammock whenever I wanted. Weekends almost always include a good nap or two. At night I like to read a bit (until the book falls out of my hands, usually) and then snuggle down with whichever cat happens to be on hot water bottle duty until the alarm goes off.

The hot water bottle on International Cat Day this week

One of the most annoying bits about menopause – which was saying something, given the rest of the symptoms – was the constant waking up at stupid o’clock and not being able to go back to sleep, but the patches seem to have sorted that out. Sleeping with earplugs has also helped enormously. My Beloved claims that earplugs aren’t helping him as he can still hear me snoring, but he can always get his own.

However, so far no one has made a patch that reduces wakefulness due to stress (the first of our National Lottery Heritage Fund community co-design projects starts this week, and what if no one turns up? I haven’t booked the transport yet! Is the bus big enough? What if it’s a total disaster? What if no one comes to the last day which is the really important one? What have I forgotten? What if too many turn up for the bus who didn’t RSVP? Argh! ).

There isn’t a patch to deal with having an 18 year old daughter on the loose in London with her friends, either. Thing 1 has embraced raving and has been off to South London (of all places!) a few times since her birthday. I am not sure why I am more concerned with her going to Vauxhall or Lambeth than when she goes to Camden, but there we are. We give her the lecture every week: no sex, no drugs, no sausage rolls (on the basis that rock’n’roll is in short supply at raves, but there might well be a hot dog seller or a 24 hour Greggs to hand). She’s quite sensible, we think, and we know she’s got a getting home plan and she’s with her friend from the village, but STILL. It’s my job.

At this point my mother is cackling away in her little village in Gaul and muttering about karma. I see you, mother. Don’t deny it.

Things making me happy this week

  • A couple of evening walks with Thing 2 through the fields and woods between our village and the next. There were deer, we startled a badger on his dusk patrol up near the fishing lake, gorgeous waterlilies.
  • I say walk – my Achilles has been playing up so more of a hobble. Still, I made it to week 5 on the C25k before it went. However, this evening it went ‘pop’ which Google assures me is not a good sign.
  • A day at the Peel/Three Corners Street Party – bubbles, dogs to make friends with (including a puppy who’d never seen bubbles before and kept trying to catch them), a DJ playing excellent tunes, lots of people interested in our project.
  • Saturday with my gazebo, touting my wares at a local church fundraiser. Sold a few bits and bobs, talked to lots of nice people and cut out a lot of paper hexagons for an English Paper Piecing project while sitting in a pretty graveyard. I love a graveyard, as you know.
  • Hydrangeas flowering nicely thanks to no intervention from me
  • The prospect of a few days off and a new dress pattern.
  • Apple cakes using my mum’s recipe, making use of the windfalls in the garden.
  • Early doors walk with Jill on Friday, putting the world to rights and plotting dastardly deeds.
  • Progress on the kantha-inspired bag which I keep forgetting to take photos of.
  • Unputdownable books.

And that’s it from me – next week I’ll try and remember to take photos, as I’m off with a load of families to Kew Gardens. If they turn up. And if the bus is big enough.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Still Life – Val McDermid

Joe Country/Down Cemetery Road – Mick Herron

The Diary of a Secret Tory MP – The Secret Tory MP

Honeycomb – Joanne M. Harris (Audible)

The Full English – Stuart Maconie

The Covent Garden Ladies – Hallie Rubenhold

Necropolis – Catharine Arnold

179: did I miss something?

This week has passed by in a haze of nothing very much at all: so much so, in fact, that I have no idea what, if anything, I have achieved. It’s been a bit of a brain-fog week, where sentences have wandered off after getting lost in the middle of a conversation and things have been left half done, like making cups of tea or sorting the laundry. My butterfly brain is in full flight – the joys of menopause, eh?

I do know I went to a lovely workshop with Toya Walker at the Museum of the Order of St John where lots of families came and explored their garden of medicinal plants before learning about botanical illustration. I also had a great chat with Andrew from the Museum of Walking about one of their new projects. There’s been a lot of crocheting of tiny mice on the tube and the odd cactus, and yesterday was a jewellery making day.

This weekend I have been pet-sitting for a neighbour, and basking in the reflected glory of Bella who bears more than a passing resemblance to a TV character called Waffledog. We’ve been for some long walks around the Common and chilled out binging Chuck on Amazon Prime in between. I love Bella, as she’s always pleased to see me. Her one fault is raging jealousy of the car she lives with, so when Ziggy decided to come home at 3am after hanging out in my garden with the wildlife last night I was rudely awoken which I could have done without.

At some point I’m going to have to bring my brain around to the idea of school uniform and (oh god) shoes for Things 2 and 3, but that can wait till the week after next when I’m off.

Let’s see if next week is more memorable!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

October Man – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Unseen Academicals – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

Open Sesame – Tom Holt

The Mercenary River – Nick Higham

Ellen Buxton’s Journal 1860-1864 – Ellen Buxton

112: I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue

Menopause is a hot topic at the moment, it seems. Companies are providing training sessions on menopause awareness, and there’s lots of research going on: how it affects women’s working lives, for example, and it’s even covered in some companies’ diversity training. In the interests of equality the company I work for are offering a male menopause awareness (it’s called andropause, apparently) later in the year. Apparently there’s more to it than fast cars and Grecian 2000 – who knew??

There’s checklists of symptoms (the old hot flash isn’t the half of it), there are charities dedicated to it and it seems to be everywhere – we’ve come a long way from delicate references to ‘the change’ or ‘her time of life’. About time too, in my opinion: it’s meant that in my annual performance review this year I was able to say to my lovely line manager that I’m experiencing symptoms and at times this is affecting work, and to have this concern logged in my record. I have a doctor’s appointment booked with a female GP (though this is apparently no guarantee of understanding) to talk HRT in a couple of weeks. Whether I can actually get my hands on any HRT is another matter entirely, as there are huge supply chain issues with it and women are being sent away empty handed by pharmacists. At least (I hope) I won’t be fobbed off with anti-depressants, as I already have those and can rule that out for them.

My main symptom at the moment*, and the one that’s making work difficult, is the brain fog: the memory problems and the inability to concentrate. I find myself in the middle of a sentence with no idea how I got there or where I was planning on going next: last week, while talking to a theatre company, I found myself making a circle in the air with my finger repeatedly, but with no idea why. A quick recap with colleagues suggested I might have been talking about the design process, but this is happening with increasing frequency – it’s hard to advocate for a project if you can’t remember what it is. Some days I work like a butterfly – landing on one thing, fluttering off for a bit, coming back to it. The kids know that it can take several minutes for my mind to process something and for me to respond. Luckily the theatre company is run by women ‘of a certain age’, as they say, and they were very good about it, but I can’t count on this all the time.

If I know in advance that I’m going to be asked to speak about something in a meeting I can script it, but I am starting to dread being asked ad hoc questions as there’s no guarantee I can formulate an answer or that my brain has kept up with the conversation. Things are slightly better if I can do something with my hands in a meeting, which is much easier when the meeting is online, but not everyone is keen on me bringing my crochet project with me. I do think if Amanda Spielman, head of OFSTED and one of our trustees, can get away with knitting through important meetings and since our mission is all about creativity and skills I should definitely be allowed.

So, it’s off to the doc for a chat for me, and hopefully I’ll be a new woman – or at least a woman that can finish a sentence.

*apart from the rage that I wrote about back in week 68

So that’s it from me: it’s lunchtime, there’s a cross stitch that needs finishing, and after a 450m swim this morning I’m contemplating a nap.

See you next week!

Kirsty x

All the Colours of Darkness/ Watching the Dark – Peter Robinson

Villager – Tom Cox

Doctor Who: Eleventh Doctor Tales (Audible)

A Place of Execution – Val McDermid