FUN IN THE HUNDRED ACRE WOOD - THANK YOU VICTORIA & ALBERT MUSEUM!

Today I went to the V & A for the Winnie the Pooh Exhibition. I had read about it and was determined to visit - even more so when i discovered friends Brian Sibley and David Weeks had loaned some of the precious items from their collection.

I had forgotten how imposing the museum is - the front door lets you know you are entering a very exciting place.

From there it was straight to the cafe and an elegant lunch under the enormous modern chandeliers which seemed incongruous against the illustrated ceiling.











Then a visit to the Fashion section - covering early 1700s through to modern times. I didn't know at that point that I could take photos - so  i have very few and they were sneaky! I loved the early gowns but the 60s and 70s onwards were fascinating as were the 2000s onwards.

Before long it was time for Winnie the Pooh and I entered expecting...  who knows? I certainly thought it would be much more than a vehicle for E M Shepard's drawings! 

I was disappointed by this. The opening was a long wall case crammed full of items which would've done better to have been spread around the whole space - and at a level that children could appreciate. There were boxed games - but we couldn't see contents, only lids. There were treasures - but they were so high up that small people, and those in wheelchairs,  couldn't possibly see them easily. 


There was even a glorious hand painted child's tea set which had been lent to the museum by the Queen herself - yet it was not isolated as a glorious gift but squashed into an ill designed display.

I heard people in wheelchairs complain about so much being way above their heads and I felt the frustration of the little ones who were bored by the time they got a third of the way along. There were an incredible amount of drawings, wonderful of course, but eventually monotonous as one had come for 'wonderment'.






Yet there were some super things as I walked through the wall displays - like the doorway with 'Mr Sanders' written over it which was a great photo opportunity; and the dark area to sit and enjoy a reading from one of the stories - as the words slid smoothly in various directions across the ceiling..

















There was Pooh Sticks Bridge, very well represented, with moving 'water' effect and sticks which

apparently floated out from under the wooden structure as would be expected.

Then it was back to the drawings high up on the walls...  though the interactive section on the different books in so many languages was an engaging way of explaining the worldwide appeal.

All in all - the Winnie the Pooh exhibition had its heart in the right place - but needed more input from those who understood lovers of children's classics rather than academics.

Try harder next time V & A!

"Life as a Type 1 is like being a magician - maybe that's why this profession suits me so well?

Let me explain...

First, maybe you want it to disappear? 

I know I did in the beginning, back in February 1962, when I was nine and a half years old. I was very thin indeed which was a result of being diabetic without anyone realising. Only six weeks before I had heard that I'd won an essay competition, run by Cadburys, and my prize arrived in the same week as the diagnosis - a year's suppyly of giant bars of chocolate! Fifty-two of those big bars you only see at Christmas - and then I got told I couldn't eat them!

Then, like a magician keeping the secrets of magic, you may want to hide the knowledge that you are diabetic? 

When I was ten, I was put on insulin having tried various concoctions of pills first. Soon after I was 'sent to Coventry' for two weeks by my entire class at school - one of the girls had an undiagnosed illness and was in hospital for most of that time; some bright spark decided she had 'caught diabetes' from me!

My mother would've been a good magician too - in order to make me seem 'normal' she'd visit the homes of those who'd invited me to their birthday parties. She'd explain that I could not eat sweet things and she would be given a paper jelly bowl, to match the ones being used that day for the rest of the guests. My jelly was sugar free but - Ta Daa - no one knew and I could be like everyone else.

How do magicians make things disappear and reappear? By misdirection of course! 

I got used to that with my Type 1 too. Back in my early days, there were no insulin pumps or pens - just glass and metal syringes with comparatively thick needles compared to those for my insulin pens today. For transportation one syringe would sit in a soft metal tube with a screw top, half filled with surgical spirit to keep it sterile. No one explained that these were not watertight so handbags were often stained with this strong, recognisable spirit and the aroma was surgical in the extreme!
Maybe that's where my love of distinctive perfumes came from as I battled to misdirect other people's sensitive nostrils - bring on the YSL Opium, DKNY Be Delicious or Chanel Number 5!

Now I think about it, I was using magicians' tools long before I ever thought of becoming one. Now, with almost twenty-two years of the profession behind me, I can announce to you that these are the subterfuges we can use as Type 1s too - although they may need adapting to your own specifications and modern times.

Looking back over my years as a Type 1, I can honestly say that what shaped my mindset forever was what my father's told me right at the beginning - but it took a while to understand it. He told me: 'Diabetes is not an illness, it's merely an inconvenience' and this is so true for me. 

If you have been rescued early enough not to have complications at the start, then you are really not ill - you just need to adapt your own and others' mindsets. Live as normally as you can - it's not a flag to be waved, but it's your own path so tread it wisely and use it well. It will never stop you doing the things you want to do - and you may do them even better than others! "