Residents of Istanbul surprised a deaf man by learning how to sign. The touching kindness was only blemished by being an advert for a major brand. More on that later.

The story: A deaf man's sister teamed up with Samsung for the stunt. Months of preparation went into learning the sign language and setting up cameras around the neighbourhood.

In the video, a passing pedestrian signs hello to Muaharrem and his sister, the man in the local shops signs the day's selection of bagels. Then the very next person they encounter drops his purchases and signs that he'd like to offer them an apple as thanks. When a cab driver communicates this way, Muaharrem wonders what's going on.

The pair end their journey in a public square, where the stunt is revealed and Muaharrem's neighbours are waiting to greet them.

Surrounded by Samsung branding, he winds up in tears. The video is well worth watching to see how people were trained, cameramen set up, and how the young man reacted. Source: The Independent. 

Of course, there's the usual ad to watch before the video, or the option to skip it. Why are everyday videos, even those promoting books or showing a funny clip on Facebook, preceded by an advertisement nowadays? Well of course, everything has to be paid for. I guess Samsung's promotion for hearing-impaired people must have cost a lot of money which needs to be recouped.

However, the main focus is the way the people in Muaharrem's area showed a willingness to learn something new, to show kindness, and to include a disabled man in their lives. Even if they were paid to do so, it still gives us all hope for a more inclusive society.

I don't see that kindness in my everyday life. I walk painfully up and down the hill clinging to my rollator every day, passing occasional joggers or walkers who pass the tortoise in a flash of bunny hops. I hold a non-confrontational smile ready to break into a greeting, but am rarely rewarded. That's my total connection with anyone outside my home now my husband is too ill to lift the cumbersome device in and out of the car to take me shopping.

I'm not bitter. I didn't live through the self-sufficient seventies without learning to rely on my own attributes. I can write and communicate on social sites, unlike many of my internet-shy peers.


How do you treat elderly people? Let's, at least, smile at strangers we meet. It costs nothing and is readily available. You could give someone a boost.

The biggest solar eclipse in Britain since 1999 will be even more special than first thought, owing to a Supermoon the night before.

On the morning of March 20, the moon will cover the sun, blocking out up to 98 per cent of its light in the UK. Since this eclipse will block so much sunlight, Britain's solar power industry is worried that it could cause power interruptions. Roughly 35,000 MW of power will be lost.


Added to this impressive occurrence, the evening before, the Earth and Moon will be as close together as they possibly can be, giving rise to a so-called Supermoon.

This makes the 2015 Spring Equinox eclipse a supermoon eclipse, because a supermoon, equinox and eclipse will all fall on the same day.

The partial eclipse, caused when the moon's orbit takes it in front of the sun, will been seen across Northern Africa, Europe and Northern Asia. Between 30% and 98% of the sun's light will be blocked out, depending on location across far northern regions of Europe and the Arctic. Source Mirror.

I saw the 1999 eclipse on the beach in Hawaii. Japanese tourists handed my husband and I glasses made of cardboard. If I remember, they had colored cellophane in the eye hole. Anyway, they protected us. This time, I should make an effort too, bearing in mind the need to protect the eyes. On looking up information on how to filter the sun's rays, I see the need to make a pinhole projector or buy special pinhole glasses. Well, with limited funds, neither of those options is available. Here are the instructions if you plan to view the incredible occurrence. 

It probably won't happen again in my lifetime. 

Along with the news this morning about most people's life expectancy will be extended to their 90s in the future comes another finding. A study confirms what we all know deep down. Marry first, then have children.

New research carried out for the Marriage Foundation think-tank showed that marrying before starting a family was a major factor in keeping parents together. More than three-quarters of couples who were wed before their first child were still together 15 years later. But more than half of those who produced a baby before marrying have split up.

The UK study, based on 1,783 mothers with teenage children, found that 76 per cent of mothers who married before becoming a parent were still with the father when the child was 14 or 15 years old.

By contrast, of those who married after the birth of their first baby, only 44 per cent were still with their husband when their first-born reached the age of 14 or 15.

Along with whether the woman had a degree or not, the age of couples did not affect their chances of staying together. It seems that as long as they make a plan for their future and marry before starting a family, they have a really good chance of making their relationship last. Source: Daily Mail.

In 1960, I married at the legal age of 18—far too young to make such an important decision. However, I faced my parent's opposition and went ahead and married my handsome Prince Charming a simple church wedding anyway. Only six months older than I was, my husband told me he was sterile and refused to have the condition checked. Faced with the problem of believing him or not, I trusted him. He had 'the gift of the gab', which he later used in his advertising career.

Just before my 19th birthday, my son came into this world.

After two more children, he had a vasectomy, and I had three tiny babes by the age of 23 years. With my marriage vow made in front of God firmly in mind, I weathered every storm ahead. During our struggles with money, personality and his depression which later led to bipolar, I supported him and we stayed together for 27 years, by which time my children had left home and he'd found another shoulder to cry on.

So many couples nowadays say they're giving their union a try before they take the step to marry. Or they give the excuse that they can marry any time, or that it's just a piece of paper and means nothing. However, I can attest to the strength of the marriage vow.

Judi Dench made her professional debut career in 1957 and her career has spanned nearly six decades. Now, at the age of 80 with failing eyesight, she has revealed her opinion about ageing.

Dame Judi Dench’s portrayal of older characters in film such as Mrs Brown, and 'Q' in the latest James Bond movies has brought dignity to the representation of the elderly on screen. We certainly need to see the older generation portrayed rather than young actresses acting the part of an older woman. And I'm thoroughly sick of seeing young beautiful women playing the part of a high court judge or a commander.

In an interview with the US celebrity magazine People she says: “There’s nothing good about being my age. Someone said to me, ‘You have such a wealth of knowledge,’ and I just said ‘I’d rather be young and know nothing, actually.’” She has no plans to slow down and wants to keep trying new things. Source: BBC.

Although eight years younger, I have plenty of experience. Some could say that's a wealth of knowledge. As it's Sunday, the day when I reminisce, I'll tell you about my relocation in the late 50s, when I was the tender age of 14 to 16.

Living in Australia at the time, I started high school as a natural progression to my schooling, although not gung-ho about learning. I would rather get on with all the exciting things life tempted me with. Needless to say, I didn't do well at my studies.

In 1956, the Olympics came to Melbourne, close to my home in Prahran. Everybody watched the opening ceremony by standing in the street outside the closest shop which would display the wonderful invention. During the weekend, athletes roamed the city streets with nothing to do. At that time, shops didn't stay open and the only thing drawing people to the built up area were the theatres. I got tons of autographs, including that of Ron Clarke, who lit the torch at the opening ceremony.

The highlight of 1957 was going to see Elvis Presley in Jailhouse Rock with a naughty girl from school. I'd persuaded my mother to let me stay with her for the weekend, and I saw a different side of life from my normally prim existence. Boys drove by the streets in her neighbourhood, whistling and shouting comments, which went to my head. I'd arrived. I was a flirting woman, not a girl.

Soon after that, Mother, my sisters and I moved to Glenelg, a seaside town in Adelaide, South Australia, to be with my Uncle Pete, whose wife had left him with two small children. We moved into my grandmother's house, built by her grandfather during the early settlement.

Of course, I enrolled in the local high school, but beforehand, the headmaster confronted me with the question of whether I really wanted to learn. I said no, and bowed out of further education.

The first job I found was a junior in a city advertising agency, hired by a very understanding boss. I didn't do much and after a year, he arranged for me to go to his friend on the other side of Adelaide, working as a doctor's receptionist. In the quiet suburb, I met some boys who took me for rides in the back of their 'ute', all laughing and joking, with never a hint of impropriety. How innocent those days—both the era and my own naivety.

My young sisters attended the local primary school, and my mother looked after my nephew and niece while Uncle Pete went to work as a photographer. The happy time I spent with them all back then remains clear in my memory. Pete was my favorite person in the world. He never tried to conform to the norm. He rigged the house with speakers in every room, and we could set up a vinyl record to replay. I nearly wore the grooves out of 'Won't you wear your ring around your neck'. As a yo-yo champion, he taught me some tricks, spending hours with me until I mastered the art. The only way he could wake was by using a fire alarm, which rang beside his bed for about 10 minutes at a time. The neighbors were so forgiving back then. Once he kept me dangling with hints of a wonderful Christmas present. When I opened the parcel, I found a peg apron with the words 'I hate work'. What a disappointment.

I loved life at the time, loved going to the beach close by, sitting on the white sand in the sunshine beside the Life Saving Club, rubbing coconut oil on my skin, flirting with the boys, and swimming in the gentle waves. Ah, yes, Judi, being young takes a lot of beating.

Would you rather have knowledge or youth? How unfortunate that you can't have both.

Two teenagers who tried to rob a UK newsagent were sent packing by the former bodyguard of the Pakistani Prime Minister.

The pair barged into the shop with hoods up and scarves covering their faces, demanding money at about 8pm on Wednesday. When the owner threatened to ring the police unless they showed their faces, they refused and kept up their insistence for money.

But the shopkeeper, who spent eight years in the Pakistani security police as a former bodyguard to Nawaz Sharif in Pakistan, decided to stand firm against the thugs.

He pretended to reach down to hand over the cash but grabbed a metal pole stashed beneath the counter and chased the thugs of his shop.

A Detective Inspector said, "Thanks to the bravery of the victim, the suspects left empty handed. No violence was threatened or used and no one was injured during this incident. We are determined to trace those responsible." Source: the Telegraph. 

The fact that the robbers weren't holding guns worked in everyone's favor. Otherwise, the outcome might have been different.

Fifteen years ago, I was working as a temp in a shop in London when a man walked in with a gun and demanded money. I still remember his words. “Hand me all your money. I said all your money.”

The manager signalled to me to open the cash register and pass over the contents while he emptied the safe. We did nothing to anger him, both stunned and cooperative. He left very quickly.

When questioned by the police, we gave his description and the sequence of events, and then tried to come to terms with what happened. Dreams of the scene haunted me for weeks afterward.

I don't believe it's worth arguing with an armed man. However, I'm not a former bodyguard with skill and physical fitness on my side.

Have you ever been robbed? If not, what policy would you adopt?

We all like to read about the results of an official analysis. Here's one about our life expectancy according to findings charted by the UK Office for National Statistics. Results from analysis if the rich and the poor shows baby girls from well-off districts can expect to enjoy good health for nearly 20 years longer than those in the poorest towns and suburbs.


The figures were calculated from the ONS Annual Population Survey which checks on the lives of 320,000 people living in undisclosed areas each year.

Here are the findings: A newborn girl in one of the top 10 per cent of wealthy areas can expect to live 71.3 years before her life is limited by chronic illness or disability. However, a girl born in one of the bottom 10 per cent of the most deprived areas can look forward to only 52.4 years of life in good health.

The difference means the well-off girl is likely to have a healthy life more than a third longer than that of a girl from a poor district. The figures for boys only differ slightly.

The ONS findings for the UK say that healthy life expectancy is at its worst in the very poorest areas of the country. A typical example comes from people without paid employment, who are benefit dependent, and consume too much alcohol, tobacco and drugs. In four out of five of the population, the health gap between the best off and the rest is much less marked. Source – Daily Mail.  

My husband and I have both lived over 70 years although our younger life differed in circumstances. Both of us could be considered to come from poor circumstances.

Born in 1938, my husband lived in London during the war, when rations were sparse and, deprived of imports, householders grew much of their own food. Spoiled by his loving family, he never went short of what he needed to build a healthy body.

Whereas I, born in 1942, lived in Australia. Although money was scarce, my countrymen had plenty of food to choose from. Fruit and vegetables formed most of my diet. Back then, horses would come down the street, delivering ice for the ice-box, while others sold exciting trinkets. Up the street, the local bakery sold milk as well.

But we both had big dreams which inspired us to reach for the best we could achieve.

At around the age of 55, I discovered I'd been born with malformed hips. Without this condition, I'd be a healthy woman living a good life in retirement.

In the last six months since developing cancer, my husband has deteriorated from a fit man weighing about 13 stone to a shadow of his former self weighing just 9 stone. But, he's not ready to go yet. He keeps up his routine of shopping and cooking and just recently shifted all the things from the living room ready for painting, and then back again. He's my hero.

I think the dividing line between rich and poor is more pronounced without a desire to live a full life. Hopelessness must play a big part in the length of your life.

I'll bet you have a story to tell.

A BBC news item yesterday told how the real world intruded on the Fairy Woods. Officials in Somerset, UK announced the need to curb the "profusion of elfin construction".

“No,” the children cry. “How will the fairies get in and out of the trees?”

But it's not the fairies who have left hundreds of fairy doors attached to the bases of trees in Wayford Woods, Crewkerne. Local people have joined in the fun so their children can leave messages for the fairies.

But a trustee of the woods claims there are little doors everywhere and the whole situation is in danger of getting out of control.

Originally an extension of nearby Wayford Manor Gardens, the 29 acres of woodland boasts a stream, meadow and ornamental lake. At the beginning of the millennium, a little door appeared in the roots of a tree. A perfect fit, it boasted a little turned handle. Inside, it led to a bed. The Trust left it undisturbed. After more doors appeared, the fad gathered momentum. A year ago, more than 200 little doors had been screwed, nailed and installed on trees. Little tokens, fairy toys and notes have been left inside. Now, the trust will put a stop to the activity which is endangering the trees and the whole area with trampled undergrowth.

But why have parents done this?

From the early history of Britain and Ireland, leprechauns, elves, sprites, faeries and pixies have been mentioned.

A good faerie is often referred to as a godmother (faerie godmother); but they may also cause misadventures for humans. A brownie is a good-natured tiny being who appears usually at night to do household tasks: more often outside chores, such as cutting the lawn and tending weeds in flower beds. A pixie is usually a young, mischievous or roguish faerie. A Sprite refers to a faerie of pleasing appearance who is older than a fae and who is to be admired for ease and lightness of movement. Sprite can also refer to an impish or even hostile being. Source: The Pagan's Path.

Are they real? Who knows? That brings into question the reality of angels, vampires, people who take on wolf form, dragons and wizards. All of them ring true in some people and many books explore the reality of these legends—some harmful and some benign.

I'm reading a book at the moment, Dragon Down, by Casey Knight, in which all these creatures are taken for granted. Normal humans don't see them. Ah, that's because they keep their presence hidden by magic.

We take our Creator on faith. We can't see or hear the Almighty, yet most of us believe we will pass on to another plane some of us call heaven. I guess that's the wonder of being human—we know our lifespan is limited, yet we joyfully pursue our existence anyway.

So, are fairies real? My neighbor's sister claimed they exist. As a former heavy drinker, she emerged from a near death experience a wiser and kinder woman, believing in God and all things supernatural. 

Some say we don't need fairies now days. Yet, it's human to believe in the unexplained. We need to know that our existence has some purpose, and that our spirit will survive.

So, do you think fairies exist?

Chinese scientists calculate that adults catch real flu about once every five years.

Although you might feel ill more often than this, other flu-like infections are to usually blame, the international team says. Source, BBC. 

A field study in China, published in the journal PLoS Biology, showed how scientists tested blood samples from 151 volunteers aged between seven and 81, to gauge how often flu infections strike.

They examined nine main strains of flu which were circulating around the globe between 1968 and 2009.

The researchers, from Imperial College London and institutes in the US and China, found that while the children got flu on average every other year, flu infections became less frequent with age.

From the age of 30 onwards, flu infections tended to occur at a steady rate of about two per decade in the people that they studied.

The researchers point out that their findings may not necessarily apply to populations in other countries. A similar study is planned in the UK. Gathering ground-breaking lifespan data of this type should help experts understand who is at risk of infection, and how often, as well as how far the disease spreads through communities.

I admit to quickly touching wood on the armrests of my study chair. I can only remember one or two cases of really severe flu. Once in the late 60s, what was referred to as the Asian flu in Australia laid me up for about two weeks and left me weak for years afterwards. The Hong Kong pandemic at around the same time killed one million people worldwide.

Viruses causing colds and flu can produce a temperature and sore throat, plus coughs and sneezes, which spreads the infection from person to person. It can be tricky to tell these diseases apart based on just subjective symptoms. One man's flu could be called a heavy head cold in a woman.

Research from the McGill University in Canada and other Canadian and US research centres, points out that Man flu is not a myth: female hormones give women stronger immune systems.

How to tell them apart? With a common cold, the symptoms tend to come on gradually, are usually milder and affect mostly the nose and the throat. Flu is a more severe illness that normally makes the individual want to take to their bed. The symptoms include aches and pains as well as a blocked or runny nose.

Although flu is unpleasant, most fit and healthy adults will survive, but it can cause serious complications in the elderly, and other people with chronic health conditions, such as asthma.

This is why experts recommend at-risk groups get a flu jab every year to protect themselves.

The local surgery has given me flu injections since the age of 65. I'm pleased to say I haven't caught the constantly mutating virus. Even the common cold has left me alone, which could be because I rarely meet anybody who unknowingly could pass misery on.

In the UK, only one woman in ten now stays at home to raise a family. This shift is relatively recent. Official figures show stay-at-home mums have dropped by more than a third in the past two decades to a historic low.

On the other hand, one stay-at-home dad in 100 brings up his children full-time.

The findings, published by the Office for National Statistics, come as the pressure on mothers to go out to work increases. The report said the number of adult women who do not work has dropped since 1980.

In 2014, more American Moms were staying home and they say that is the best option. The share of mothers who do not work outside the home rose over the past decade, reversing a long-term decline in stay-at-home mothers. (In the U.S., 71% of all mothers work outside the home.) Two-thirds are traditional married stay-at-home mothers with working husbands, but a growing number of mothers are unmarried.

Despite the fact that most mothers in the U.S. work at least part time, 60% of Americans say children are better off when a parent stays home to focus on the family, while 35% say they are just as well off when both parents work outside the home.

Let's go back in history. Men and women hunted side by side, using their unique skills. When children came along, the woman needed to care for her brood and joined the hunt less, picking berries and digging roots to eat instead so she could keep an eye on the little ones crawling in the dirt. Man and woman developed different skills, he: strength and speed to focus on his target, she: caring and naturing while talking to other women and preparing food.

Society developed to accommodate the separate rolls right up until WW2 in England, when most of the men went overseas, leaving the women to take over their roles and work in factories as well as the land. With their new-found independence, women welcomed the freedom and the pay. No longer were they chained to the kitchen, acting only to feed and service their man. They had clout.

In my younger days, I looked after my three children, even took on more during the holidays when we would all explore the world around us. I taught them well—how to be kind and considerate, how to respect everyone else, and how to grow strong. Back in the 60s & 70s, women didn't work. I loved my role. What more important thing could I do than to shape the future generation? When the children left home, I used my divorced status to look after someone else's child while she pursued her career. I worked in catering after my second marriage because of lack of qualifications and skills, gaining independence and pay for my effort. Both these jobskills were part of my earlier life.

Now we're retired, my husband and I share home-making duties. In the most simplified form, he does the shopping, cooking and dishes, I do the clothes washing and ironing, and sweep the floors etc. But we're getting old and no longer have the fire and drive of a young person. We're content in each other's company.

What do you think of women leaving their children for others to raise? Should men and women go back to traditional roles?

Wallis Simpson ordered a top level diplomatic mission to rescue her swimming costume she had left behind at her luxury villa at the height of World War II. The American socialite became Wallis, Duchess of Windsor (previously Wallis Simpson and Wallis Spencer, born Bessie Wallis Warfield; 19 June 1896 – 24 April 1986) when she married her third husband in England, Prince Edward, Duke of Windsor, formerly King Edward VIII,. He abdicated his throne to marry her and they withdrew from the royal family to the safety of Spain and Portugal shortly before WW2 broke out.

Despite millions being slaughtered in the conflict, in 1940 Mrs Simpson had ‘other pressing concerns’ in the form of her missing swimming costume. She requested the American Minister in Lisbon and the American consul in Nice to find her Nile green outfit in the South of France.

The diplomats opened up the shuttered rental property even though that part of the coast was occupied by the Nazis at the time.

Andrew Morton, a biographer who also wrote of Princess Diana, writes in his new account of Edward that the task became known privately as ‘Operation Cleopatra Whim’.

According to an extract of the Seventeen Carnations - The Windsors, The Nazis and the Cover-Up published in the print edition of The Mail on Sunday, Prince Edward's disloyalty knew no bounds.

Edward, or the Duke of Windsor as he became known after the abdication, thought his brother, the King, was ‘utterly stupid, that the Queen was an ‘intriguer’ and that Churchill was a ‘war monger’.

He believed the continued heavy bombing of British cities would bring the country to the negotiating table with Germany. As to Hitler himself, the duke thought he was ‘a very great man’ and that it would be ‘a tragic thing for the world’ if the Fuhrer were overthrown.

The royal biographer goes on to claim that after Edward abdicated in December 1936 he and his wife ‘acted as if World War II was simply a minor inconvenience to their lifestyle’ and that their ‘self-indulgence knew no bounds’. Because she considered her swimming costume vital, she enlisted the American diplomats to ‘repatriate the garment’.

He says in his book: ‘Even though their rented villa was locked and shuttered and that part of the coast occupied by the enemy, the diplomats duly did her bidding.

‘In the midst of war the swimsuit was found and dispatched safely to the grateful duchess.’

Morton also writes that Edward and Mrs Simpson were in regular contact with high level Nazi commanders to beg them to protect their homes in Paris and the South of France.

In extracts already made public, Morton writes that Mrs Simpson was viewed with deep suspicion by palace courtiers and that she had been described as a ‘witch, a vampire and a high-class blackmailer’. Just weeks after her husband took the throne in January 1936 some even thought that she could be a spy. Source: Daily Mail.

 Putting aside her utter disregard for soldiers dying in the war, this mature socialite placed the couriers in danger as well to fetch a garment she considered vital.

I guess there are always two sides to a story, and two ways of looking at a person's personality and motives. But be very aware that every action lives on in history.

I saw a documentary about her life where Wallis Simpson was shown as a woman trapped by her own flirtations into marrying the dependent Duke of Windsor. Give her her due—she remained a supportive wife until his death. Maybe the article of swimwear was the only thing she looked good in and she needed it to maintain her image. In that case, she shouldn't have left such an important item behind.

The most important article of clothing I need is footwear. No—not beautiful high-heeled glamour items.
Without supportive shoes, I couldn't walk outside on the rough, cold streets.

Put yourself in a fantasy world and consider this: What article of clothing means most to you?