Kick the bucketlist. Just do it.

Bucketlists are supposed to be a list of things you really long to do before you die, aren`t they? And sadly, you often see people with life-limiting illnesses setting out what they`d like to see or achieve once time starts ticking by extra fast. Some make it. Others just don`t beat the clock.

So..well..this.

February on Harlech beach. 

Don`t write a bucketlist. Don`t wait for the moment you`re told you might not make it to the Queen`s telegram. Don`t procrastinate until you`re too ill to travel, or until the long lost friend you meant to visit in Sydney has popped their clogs .Just do stuff now. Maybe it`s skydiving. Or running a marathon. Or something closer to home like walking Offa`s Dyke, or strolling along your favourite beach in the moonlight. Or going camping in your favourite beauty spot. Or saying `sod the chores` and going out for a picnic.

I don`t want to get too morose about this, but we all know people who`ve received shocking news about their health. People whose life, suddenly, turns a right-angle. It can happen to anyone.

I was found to have a pre-cancerous, high grade breast condition called DCIS three years ago. I had to have minor surgery, then three weeks` radiotherapy. They`d spotted it on a mammogram--a regular test because of my family history (Mum got breast cancer at 48 and died seven years later. Three of her sisters got it too--two also died, and one has survived into her eighties). It was scary, but they were pretty sure that after thwacking mine with that course of action, I`d be fine.

So it was a bit of a shock a few weeks ago, the day before Dad`s funeral actually, to get a call saying my most recent mammogram had shown little dots, possibly calcification spots, and they wanted me back in for a biopsy. I was already shattered about Dad, but parked the fear, put on a brave face and closed it all off until after the funeral. Then I started Googling what it could be, and found that if it was another bout of DCIS, or worse, they wouldn`t be able to offer radiotherapy to the same area. It could mean a mastectomy and possibly chemotherapy. So I kept quiet, had the biopsy under a local anaesthetic, (the team at the Princess Royal Hospital in Telford were truly fantastic; thanks Dr Walsh and the radiography ladies) went to Glastonbury (would have been on my bucketlist if I believed in them...) with backpack straps bashing my bruising, had fun, regardless, and 35 long, long days after the call from the hospital, went back to the clinic for the results.

All fine.

The dots really had been calcification, and everything was benign. I asked everyone to double check, including the registrar who examined me. When I got up to leave, still trembling, my heart sank as he said: `There`s just one more thing I need to tell you`. Here we go, I thought. `Your buttons are completely done up the wrong way,` he said. I decided it would be inappropriate to kiss a registrar while partially undressed (or fully dressed, for that matter,) so made myself decent, legged it down the corridor, bought a breast cancer fundraising badge in a blur, and sped home, weeping with relief most of the way.

I didn`t fancy bubbly, or balloons. Or celebrating, much. There was a clinic full of women with me that day, some of whom would be getting far less welcome news. I feel for them. And for everyone else I know right now who`s living with cancer. I don`t, and won`t, ever consider myself `out of the woods`, and I signed up on the spot to be in a clinical study which might, just, help others.

Juliet on a chilly day trip to Aberdovey

But it got me thinking about how, if the news had been different, it would be less easy to see the places I still want to see, because there`d have been treatment, and possible side effects.

I asked for voluntary redundancy from my job two years ago, for a couple of reasons.That decision bought and brought me freedom, and the chance to travel, relax, see the people I want to see, wipe out every bubble of work-related stress and focus on my priorities. So yes, I`m incredibly lucky, and I`m hoping to travel again soon, and treat my daughters to some trips, too.

It`s all well and good if you have spare cash to travel to those special places. If you don`t, there are cheaper ways to travel. Here are my top tips:

+I signed up with a house-swapping website (www.guardianhomeexchange.co.uk ). You need to pay your travel, but you can get free accommodation in the UK or further afield.

+List yourself as a house-sitter, and care for someone`s home and or their pets while they`re away, in a location you really want to visit (TrustedHousesitters.com).

+ If you fancy a weekend under canvas, but don`t have the kit, try Freegle (www.ilovefreegle.org) , and get a tent for free, or ask your friends (I have a leaky pop up tent from Glasto...but if the forecast is ok and you want to borrow it, just shout!)

+If you want to skydive or parachute jump, you might be able to sign up at a charity event, and get your kicks while raising cash. And if you`ve always longed to run a marathon, you probably can. Just start slowly, with help from a local running group (www.shropshire-shufflers.org) --and you might just cross that line in the Mall one day.

So that`s it really. No bucket to kick this week, I hope. No lists. But no procrastinating, either.

Badge from the fundraisers at PRH.

Dear Flytipper. An open letter--just for you.

Dear Flytipper,

I agree--they`re not the most beautiful sofas I`ve ever seen. They`re pretty grubby, for a start.

But if you went to the trouble to load them into your van, or a trailer, and get them this far--then why not go the whole hog and take them to the tip?


Instead you left them near the bridge in Preston Montford Lane. Perfectly positioned to watch the kids rummage through the eclectic mix of toys nearby. Did you dump those, too?

There`s a (naked) Action Man style fella there. And some kind of pirate boat. And I think I spotted an Xbox type control thing.

Not far away, and not pictured, because I was getting angry, was an empty Starbucks coffee cup. Maybe you put your feet up and necked a latte while the kids used the `play area`.

I`ve seen stuff dumped here before. And it kind of....spoils the area? Maybe the sofas were spoiling your lounge. Or your driveway. But this isn`t really a solution is it?

So just in case you`re ever tempted to go flytipping again.....here are a few ideas for getting rid of your possessions, without messing up a lovely Shropshire country lane.

1) Ask around if anyone wants to buy your stuff. No? Try an advertisement in your local paper or a card at the newsagent`s round the corner?

2) See if a charity can use it. Check if it`s got a fire safety label on it. Because clean, useable furniture that can be resold, is often snapped up by charities such as the British Heart Foundation in Shrewsbury. And they  can often come to your home and collect, then clean it up and sell it. They raise money. Someone gets an affordable sofa.

3) How about Reviive on the Battlefield estate in Shrewsbury? Again, they have a brilliant team of people, including some trainees learning vital skills, who work on donated furniture and resell it.

4) Clean it up yourself, and join Freegle. Be honest about what you have, and describe it accurately...even post a picture of it on the site. Once again....it`s taken off your hands, without the need to dump it. And someone who can`t afford new stuff, feels the benefit.

5) Here`s another idea. You clearly have transport. So....take it to the tip. But check first where they are, and when they`re open--and what they take. Here`s the link to Shropshire Council`s website:

 http://www.shropshire.gov.uk

Getting the idea now? Good.

Don`t do it again please.

Love,

Jane xx

Oh......PS: It`s not that I`m obsessive about rubbish or flytipping or anything--but here are a couple of blog posts I prepared earlier...now recycled ...to show you how easy recycling can be.


Here we go. You might want to put on some Barry White for this February story. And get yourself comfy on the sofa. Oops no.....sorry.......it`s up my lane.

OK, let`s do it standing up.

Wanna talk dirty?

I mean........really dirty?

....wanna hear a little shiver...? Some deep breathing....a little panting....feel a body glowing warmer.... touch those little glistening droplets of sweat ....as the body pushes harder......?

Yeah well you`re not going to get it. Because I didn`t get my run today.

So we`re going to talk really, really dirty instead.

Oh...you wanna *see*...as well?

Cop a load of this, then:

Eight fag packets, four soft drinks holders, and half a dozen cans. Just a small sample of what I saw along a pretty, half mile stretch of road somewhere in Shropshire this morning. Half a mile`s not far ! And there was other stuff...including a neatly knotted (hmmmm...) carrier bag full of more cans, and a bottle or two. Just too gruesome and jaggy to include in my haul.

So......just what made the 20 or so litter louts who deposited this stuff, think it was ok? How tough would it have been to do something radical...like take it home?

Don`t worry.I`ve done it for you. And I hope I don`t have to do it again. Because I was supposed to be running...panting....breathing hard up the hill....(yeh, that was me, you know.....running...and....)

Oh forget it, I`ve got a headache now anyway.

Enjoying the recycling message? Good. Because I`m not done yet. Here are the tyres someone dumped in the same little layby last summer.

And yes, I did report it. You can fill in a form online, which goes to the Environment Agency.


And finally. I just checked back through my pictures. Some lovely ones of me on the beach and stuff....but then I saw this. Two more sofas. A few months back....in a bus shelter by the Shelton lights just outside Shrewsbury. Quite scarily similar to the pair dumped today at Preston Montford.

Maybe they`re stalking me. Or travelling round and round on the number 70, like people do on the London night bus....?

Nuff rubbish. Just going to log the latest load on the Environment Agency`s website. Then go and sit on my er....sofa.