The challenge is to resume writing. A number of things have got in the way of my fingers trotting creatively all over my keyboard during the last couple of years or so. That’s not to say I haven’t actually written anything. I have. Of course I have. Thousands of pages of website copy for a start. And hundreds of letters for business. But my friend is correct, I have not utilised the English language in a written creative way and just for fun for quite some time. And being the competitive soul that I am I feel I have to respond.

So here goes … let’s see if I can rise to the challenge …

As thousands of young people prepare to fly the nest for university this week, a new study by Endsleigh, has revealed an emerging generation of internet-savvy students and midlife parents is significantly changing the way families are now keeping in touch.

According to the study, parents rely heavily on social media platforms like Facebook to keep tabs on their children once they’ve left home, with 75% admitting to regularly checking their profiles to see what they’ve been up to. However interestingly, only 36% of the 18-25 year olds surveyed are actually friends with their parents on Facebook and almost three quarters (72%) deliberately choose not to be as they do not want their parents seeing personal pictures and messages.

The study also shows that 72% of 18-25 year olds who have left home now use the internet to communicate with their parents – 36% via email, 23% use social media and 13% Skype.  Mobile phones are almost as popular to keep in touch, with 70% using their handsets to call home and 60% to send text messages to their parents.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, only 7% of young people use post to keep in touch with their parents, which has reduced considerably from previous generations – 25% of 45+ year old midlife parents surveyed in the same study used post to stay in touch with their parents when they first left home.

When it comes to working out how to do basic household tasks, young people are becoming increasingly independent and self-reliant, with 44% of 18-25 year olds choosing to use self-help websites such as YouTube or VideoJug to find out how to boil an egg, work a washing machine or iron a shirt, compared to only 20% contacting home.

However despite the rise in usage of the internet and social media, young people are getting more homesick than ever – 62% of the 18-25 years surveyed confessed to missing home when they first left, compared to 55% of the 45+ year olds who were asked the same question about when they first left home.

Young people still need the emotional support of parents, with 67% confessing that the main reason they contact home is for a general catch up. Surprisingly, only 13% of the young people surveyed contact home to ask for money.

Commenting on the findings, Relationship Expert Christine Webber said: “These days parents are becoming less anxious about their kids flying the nest as there are so many different ways to keep in touch, but they must be careful not to invade their privacy by checking up on them too much. However it seems nothing can replace the comfort of the human voice, which is why so many students still need to ring home for a regular catch up.”

Aaron Porter, NUS President, added, “Students are becoming increasingly self-reliant and their faithful laptop has played a massive role in this, almost becoming a surrogate parent as they use it to keep in touch, share information and find out how to do things. However, parents can still play an important role by ensuring that things like anti-virus software and insurance is covered. Many students would feel as if they had lost their right arm if their laptop was lost or stolen so setting up insurance means one less thing to worry about.”

Endsleigh’s student possession report published last month revealed that every student surveyed returning to university for the start of the new term will be taking either a laptop (94%) or a desktop computer (6%) with them. The same study also showed that today’s students carry over £1,300 worth of goods on them on their person around town and campus.

The wonderful thing about this particular slice of  English countryside is that I am instantly taken back to my childhood days of huge, wild hedgerows and small grassy meadows; a time before the fashion for monstrous open fields became the norm.  And although it is not quite officially spring here in the UK, the world has a distinctly spring-like feel to it.  The hedgerows are itching to burst into their unkempt green spring splendour; and the birds are twittering with excitement that winter is almost over.

Like most British rural counties, Lincolnshire has its fair share of sheep, and of course, spring lambs at this time of year.  The ones in the photographs were spotted at Spridlington, close to my parents’ farm.

So it’s official in my midlife mind.  The longest, coldest UK winter we’ve had for many years is over.  And spring is here, with its snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils, lambs, birdsong; and the promise of green-ness.  What joy.

In the meantime, I’ll share my music with you, and as I’m feeling midlife mellow today, that’s mellow, not yellow, green or blue, just plain old mellow – I’m listening to Corinne Bailey Rae.    She’s singing beautifully in the background whilst I tackle the accounts and the dreaded VAT.  Corinne Bailey Rae is just right for listening to today; here she is in a video singing Paris Nights / New York Mornings from her latest album “The Sea”.  Enjoy.

The events warranted a girls’ night out of course.  It’s become something of a tradition over the years.  When one of us has a birthday, the birthday girl gets to choose the activity or restaurant for the evening, and everyone else pays for the treat. So on Wednesday evening seven of us gathered at our local Prezzo restaurant for a few hours of silliness and stuffing our faces.

The age of these lovely midlife women ranges from 46 to 57, and we’ve known one another for more than 20 years.  Initially the link between us was our children; they all went to the same kindergarten and small village primary school.  Over the years, we’ve become firm friends, and spent time together doing some amazing things.  Not too many years ago our entire families used to get together for parties at Christmas and New Year; we’d have barbecues and day trips in the summer.

Most of us have grown up children now, and jobs and businesses to attend to.  Some of us have grandchildren. There are a couple of friends who no longer join us, and there’s a couple we’ve gathered along the way.  Our lives have changed in ways that none of us could have foreseen 20 years ago; we’re also a diverse group of characters, but come what may, the bond between us has grown stronger and stronger.  These wonderful ladies are quite simply “family” to me.

The thing that prompts me to write this post is the photograph that was taken this week.  It occurred to me that there has never been a time when we’ve managed to capture on camera the entire group of us.  Either someone can’t make it to a get together or one of us is actually steering the camera.  This time we grabbed a passing waitress and asked her to take the shot.  It’s not a particularly good quality image, but we are all on there.

My wonderful midlife friends

So thank you to my wonderful midlife friends for a lovely evening on Wednesday; thank you for the flowers and gifts.  And paying for me to stuff my face.  Go grab a glass of something, and join me in making a toast – to friendship.  And long may we all be happy, healthy and here to celebrate many more birthdays.

We’ve been eating there for more than 30 years on and off.  And last night’s visit was a bit special for us, because we took our two daughters along with us for the first time to celebrate my birthday.  I know, I know, I’m also not sure why they’ve never been with us before to this amazing restaurant; they’ve been almost everywhere else we’ve ever frequented.

The same staff have served us all these years; Fred is obviously a very nice guy to work for.  Decor is attractive; food is excellent.  Well, usually.  But not last night.  Out of the four meals we ordered, three were deemed to be less than great.  What a disappointment.  Gutted.  Girls are now wondering why we kept harping on about Fred’s for all those years.

Well, we’ll not be harping on about it any more.  We do eat out quite often; we like good food.  It occurs to me this morning, however, that maybe our midlife expectations are set a little too high, bearing in mind that we are in the middle of a recession.  Perhaps restaurants are having to cut corners a little or a lot just to survive.

On the other hand though, surely a recession is precisely the time to go the extra mile, and satisfy customers’ expectations.  And more besides.  I’m sure we are no different from most other families in that we expect value for our hard-earned money, and only the best will do.  It’s not as if a birthday meal can be repeated the following night, now can it?

Did you voice your opinion, I hear you ask.  No, we did not.  Normally we would have, but Fred himself was absent.  He’s gone overseas to visit family.  We will, however, make an effort to chat to him once he’s back from his travels.  And will we give Fred the opportunity of having another bite of our eating out budget?  Probably, but not for a while.  Will I lower my midlife expectations?  I don’t think so.  Unfortunately for Fred, we live in a world where nothing is indispensable – and there are plenty more restaurants where Fred’s came from.

So February 14^th is all about love and romance.  Supposedly.  It’s also about a huge marketing opportunity for card manufacturers, florists, restaurants, hotels and many more besides.  So how much should one spend to make a loved one feel “loved” enough?  And what on?  Call me cynical if you like, but I’m not sure I need some smart marketeer to tell me how to convey the love I have for my husband to him.

All the advertising hype also got me thinking about the use of the word “love”.  Girls say that they love their shoes; they love their clothes, and bags.  They love their work, shopping, cooking, books and on it goes.  Girls love absolutely everything that’s good in their lives.  And they love all the good stuff with huge enthusiasm.

Men, it seems, are not quite so flippant as women about the things they love, but they’re not far behind.  I’ve never heard a man say that he loves his shoes.  I do know men, however, who love golf and will say so.  I know men who openly say that they love their cars.  Maybe all the girly “loving” going on in the world is gradually rubbing off on the male half of the species little by little.

We “love” so many things these days I reckon we should try to find an alternative word or words to adequately describe the most precious feelings we have for our partner, or our children.  I might start saying “I give you my heart” next time I hang up the phone to my husband.  It’s a bit of a mouthful though; and no matter what alternatives I think of, none seem to fit the bill quite so perfectly as simply saying “I love you”.

Which brings me back to the initial question – how much should one spend on a Valentines Day gift to make someone feel “loved”?  Well, since “loving” material possessions has become so prevalent, I’m going to steer away from shop bought gifts altogether.  So I’ll be spending zero on gifts.

My husband will know that I love him when we sit down to a special Valentines Day dinner that we’ve cooked together and share a good bottle of wine, and I’ll know that he loves me when he does all the washing up afterwards.  And that’s good old-fashioned midlife love for you.  Priceless.

As a midlife woman with coeliac disease ingesting gluten in any quantity at all is a big mistake.  It’s about five years now since I went through the unpleasant process of getting diagnosed, which actually was a small price to pay for the chance to feel well again.  I quite literally leapt off the floor and hugged the consultant when he told me I had coeliac disease.  I was over the moon just to know what was making me so ill.   And I learned really fast how to live with it.  It’s sometimes a nuisance; for instance eating out does have its problems, but other than that life’s a doddle once you know you have to be forever on your guard.

You see, gluten is a tricky little monster.  It has a variety of disguises and hides itself at every opportunity, as if its sole purpose is to trip you up and catch you out.   Gluten has a habit of  making you pay it the respect that it deserves.  And I do.  Constantly.

And that’s where I’ve fallen down this last week.  A local cafe owner told me about something called spelt bread, which she uses herself.  She did not, however, I now realise, during the telling of the story, explain to me if she was full-on coeliac or merely gluten intolerant.  And there is a big difference.

Anyway, I dashed off to the recommended store to hunt down said amazing loaf of spelt bread.  Now I didn’t just buy the loaf; I closely questioned a knowledgeable staff member about the ingredients and explained that it had to be gluten-free.  She disappeared to consult with the baker and his books, and returned to tell me that the yummy looking loaf in my hand was indeed gluten free and suitable for coeliacs.  Now this loaf had no food information labelling on it, as the bread is baked in-house, which was what prompted me to ask for information in the first place.

Once home with precious loaf, my daughter (who appears to be gluten-intolerant but isn’t diagnosed as such) and I couldn’t wait to slap it on the breadboard, carve off a couple of chunks and load it up with butter and strawberry jam.  I’m salivating right now just thinking about it.  God, it was delicious.  For someone who has been searching for an adequate substitute for good old-fashioned bread for the last five years,  I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

Because I’ve got so used to not having bread on a daily basis, the loaf lasted a while.  I went for a couple of days and had none at all.  At the weekend I popped into the same supermarket and picked up another uncut one.  And yesterday lunchtime, I sat down to a plateful of my favourite lunchtime snack – beans on toast, with two thick chunky slices of the lovely stuff.

Amazing.  The aftermath was horrific.  Obviously a gluten overload.  Checking on the internet it appears that spelt is an ancient form of wheat, different from modern wheat in that it hasn’t been messed about with!  And it also seems that some people who are gluten intolerant can actually tolerate the gluten in spelt bread.  It is not, however, suitable for coeliacs under any circumstances.

Right now I hate myself for being so bloody stupid.  The internet is a fantastic source of information and one I use all the time.  Why didn’t I check this out?  Maybe I really, really wanted to think I’d finally found some marvellous tasty sandwich material.  I now realise that if spelt bread was OK for coeliacs it would be widely advertised as such and it’s not.  Although several big players in food retail have made this mistake apparently.  No excuse though.  Food manufacturers should know that they are playing with people’s health and lives.  And mine’s been messed up big time this week.  I feel like shit right now.

There’s a series of emails on their way to this particular food retailer as I’m writing, requesting that they sort out their labelling on store baked goods, and asking them to train their staff more efficiently and accurately regarding food allergies and intolerances etc.

Moral learned today: If you have a potentially serious health issue, do not take other people’s advice without first checking it out.  Big Mistake.

If requested, a willing member of staff at two of the chain’s London hotels and one in Manchester will dress in an all-in-one fleece sleeper suit before slipping between the sheets, to act as a giant hot water bottle.

The bed-warmer is equipped with a thermometer to measure the bed’s required temperature of 20 degrees Celsius (68 Fahrenheit).  The human hot water bottle would be fully dressed and leave the bed before the guest occupied it. Holiday Inn could not confirm if the bed warmer would shower first, but his or her hair would be covered apparently.

What?  Who in their right mind would use this service?  What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned ordinary hot water bottle?  Or an electric blanket?   And is there no central heating in these Holiday Inns?

Perhaps this service is aimed at midlife people like myself who really feel the cold; folk with poor circulation and chilblains.  Maybe it’s designed for business men and women who come in very late from meetings to find that the hotel’s heating thermostat has clicked to “off”.  Perhaps I can just about stretch to thinking that a bed warming service could be helpful to thaw out late night ice swimmers.  But then surely someone participating in such an activity would head straight for a hot shower.  Wouldn’t they?

I’m thinking that timing would have to be crucial too.  And things don’t necessarily run to schedule when one is away from home, do they?  Even the best laid plans can be blown asunder if one can’t find a taxi, or a train is delayed.  A warm bed booked for 10.30pm would be stone cold by 11pm.  And what if the human hot water bottle inadvertently falls asleep, as one is apt to do in bed?  Imagine returning to a darkened hotel room to find a fleece-wrapped stranger wearing a clinical hairnet getting some much needed shut-eye.  God, the mind boggles.  What would you do?  Wake the warmer up with a good shake and shoo him or her out the door?  Or stomp about a bit and put the telly on?

The thought of a random stranger snuggling down in my clean, fresh cotton bed sheets minutes before I climb into them quite frankly makes my skin crawl.  It’s bad enough staying in a hotel and not knowing who has used the bed the night before, but to think of a hot body thrashing about on MY sheets is just too much.  And think of the creases this body would leave behind.  Pristine ruined.

No.  This midlife crackpot feels that Holiday Inn bosses are after herding in weirdos and perverts to boost customer throughput.  And I can imagine that there’ll be no shortage of takers for this crazy, not to be missed, red hot offer.