Five Random Things You (Might) Not Know About Me

Stanley and Alfie helping me spread the Furry Feet word

The Furry Feet years

Between 2008 and 2014, I was pretty much always covered in dog or cat fur (or both).

Furry Feet Petcare was my first foray into self-employment and ticked my lifelong dream of working with animals.

The business grew very quickly and soon I was working seven days a week hanging out with what felt like half the canine and feline population of south Manchester.

It was oodles of fun but definitely had a shelf life. My shoulders have never forgiven me…

I’d like to thank…

… my Uncle Stephen for our family’s biggest claim to fame. He was nominated for an Oscar in 1994. And no, I’m not Stephen King’s niece.

Stephen Palmer’s short animated film Blindscape was pipped to the post by one of our family’s favourites, Wallace and Gromit’s The Wrong Trousers. Cracking competition there.

Dirty dealings

I’m not one to be under the spotlight on an actual stage but when I was asked to play the part of a fictional shoplifter, I went for it. Back in my local newspaper reporter days, I helped the crime editor to prove a bogus solicitor was definitely bogus.

After lamenting how I’d just put a pack of nappies on the bottom of my pram and forgotten to pay for them – and then got fictionally arrested – he offered his (unregistered) legal services. And in swooped my colleague from the pub table next to us with his evidence-laden Dictaphone.

The ethics were unquestioned back in the late-90s and we put a stop to his shenanigans, but I definitely won’t be posing as a petty criminal again.

A brick-tastic birthday

I spent my 50th birthday playing with Lego in Denmark. After umming and ahhing for ages about where on the planet I wanted to be to celebrate my half-century, Billund (home of Lego HQ) came out top.

With my Lego-mad husband and son, we spent the day at the magical Lego House being wowed by incredible creations and letting our own imaginations fly free. A day of complete and utter joy and cake followed by a city break in Copenhagen, the place I’d (not so) secretly like to live.

My son is quarter-Zimbabwean…

… I think. Genetics aren’t my strong point but I know for sure that my husband is 100% Zimbabwean so I think the maths fits.

While I’m from the everyday streets of sunny Stockport, Marc grew up in Zimbabwe with barefoot adventures in the bush and the sound of hippos honking in the Zambezi.

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