Paula's 10 'Secrets'

A real mixed bag here, as I thought of different things – not exactly secrets, but things you might not know about me! So, as they say, not in any particular order …

The drunken sea-captain or
the Methodist minister? Guess!

1. One of my great-great-grandfathers was fired from his job as a Captain with the Isle of Man Steam Packet Company for being drunk in charge of his ship. To counterbalance this, another of my g-g-grandfathers was a minister in the Primitive Methodist Church and, presumably, a strict teetotaller! The photo is the oldest family photo I have - not sure of the year, but my grandfather said it was his grandfather.

2. I’ve been going ten-pin bowling regularly for about ten years – and am still useless! Any (occasional) good score I get is pure luck!

3. I hate spiders, wasps, and daddy-long-legs.

4. I’m addicted to diet cola – no, not Coca-Cola, I mean the cheap supermarket cola.

5. My first published book was ‘due out’ on the same day (May 1st, 1968) as my second daughter. Daughter arrived 10 days early, on April 21st, and I got the print (hardback!) copies of my books 10 days late, on May 10th.

6. I score quite highly in trivia quizzes (having a squirrel-type mind for useless trivia) but often can’t remember what someone said to me yesterday or what I did last week.

7. My very first celebrity crush was Pat Boone – I had pictures of him all over my bedroom wall when I was about 12. And I can still remember all my other teenage crushes!

8. I’ve never been able to eat ‘raw’ cheese, but can eat it cooked e.g. on pizza, lasagne etc - not sure why!

9. And now a couple of ‘confessions’: I sneaked a camera in my bag at a B...ham Palace Garden Party (no cameras allowed!) and took a photo of the side and back of the palace (which is actually the front, but we won’t go into that). Didn’t dare take a photo of the Queen though!

10. Another one: There was standing room only in the 2nd class area of a train from Nice to Marseilles, so I found a seat in an almost-empty first class compartment, and then pretended I didn’t understand the train conductor when he told me I was in the wrong place and would have to pay a large surcharge. He eventually gave up (with a stereotypical French shrug) and so I kept my seat all the way to Marseilles!