Newly married nephew

We went down to Folkestone for a night, via Canterbury register office where we saw my nephew happily married to his lovely new wife.


Newly married nephew and wife will live in Folkestone.

Made in Dagenham

I went to see this film, Made in Dagenham, with a neighbour. We were growing up around the time these women machinists at the Ford factory were striking for equal pay after management had regraded them as unskilled, with consequent low pay. After weeks on strike, the women met Barbara Castle, who in getting them back to work, also initiated the equal pay act. That was May 1968.

On Friday 13 May 1968, I took my maths GCE. In May 1968, my neighbour received a letter about an accounting apprenticeship she'd applied for. It read,

"Dear Miss R, thank you for your application. The vacancy is for a male."

It was attitudes from similar managers of such organisations that limited my choice of career. It's thanks to the women of Dagenham that we have the Equal Pay Act, and that women now expect to be able to apply for all sorts of jobs, not limited by their sex. And, if it hadn't been for that Labour government, I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing now at the Open University.

Son to son

I'm a bit chuffed to see step son and son speaking to each other via the auspices of the Financial Times. Step son shines at economics, and son, having just finished his degree requires a reference, so of course the elder can advise the younger here.

Trudging

My PhD research trudges on. Or I trudge. Slowly. It's time it were finished, and

"progress is slow"

so said my supervisor this week, so I'm abandoning everything (well almost everything) in order to submit by Christmas. I've just postponed this drama course I was going on in October, and am doing it in January instead. I will have have submitted by then.

Won't I?

Growing up

Both my children recently contacted me, asking me about computing problems. How nice! At last they can talk about technical subjects I understand.

I was at teacher training college in the seventies, and one Sunday lunch at home my mother, also a teacher, and I were discussing how children learn. She exclaimed

"At last! Someone I can talk with about Piaget."

How nice to have adult children.