…..'A sense of humour lends you poise, it gives you balance and it helps you to bend without breaking'…..

(HH Pujya Gurudev Swami Chinmayananda)

Menoquizst [men-oh-kwiz-ssst]; the condition of asked and asking.

Well.  On the whole I didn't mind the challenge of the 'bucket list' after all.  Thanks to Aitch for putting me 'in it'.

I am sure that many of you reading this will have done or at least thought about such a list yourselves.  I find myself wondering what others' would look like.  If you have posted something similar please link it in the comments box.  If you haven't - - now's your chance!!!  Take it in any direction you like. 

Pretty please?  Go on, I'd love to see a flurry of 'to do' lists!  (NB if you are a reader only with no blog of your own, how about you send your list to me by email - click on the facility at top of the Google Profile page).

On a slightly different tack but related to questioning, Roth-sahib apparently feels all should know rather more about me.  Instant YAM as it were.  Now where's the fun in that I ask you?    &*>  I'm put in mind of Debbie Reynolds: 

"Getting to knoooow you, getting to know allll about you……" 

My Mum had a sleepless night worrying - Debbie Reynolds and Getting to Know you - just didn't sound right. Then I was rudely woken at about 6am by her this morning saying "it was Deborah Kerr playing Anna in the King and I!".....YAM-aunty is most grateful the dachsund at least was alert during this post!!!

It's here all the time, but a bit scattered.  After all this IS the blog for menopolyixnaemic meanderings and memoirs.

However, I appreciate that Roth-ji cares enough to want this. There is the 'menothority' page.  A thumbnail sketch, I grant you, but goodness, does anyone really want to read a curriculum vitae?!  Trust me it is long.  I have had employers look askance at me and say… "you DID all this?" Any of you who have experienced the sensation of discovering that you know too much and are far too capable for the position applied for, will understand the ground-gaping awfulness of the feeling that you have studied for nothing.

There was a point in life where I wondered if just sticking to my A, B Cs and 1 + 2 = 3  level of interaction wasn't the best way to go.

It can't be sustained though.  Every element must find its valence and reside in the orbit best suited for its stability.  Of course there are some elements which can fire off in all directions and buddy up with many others creating all sorts of weird and wonderful compounds.

I am one of those.  Variety is the spice, is it not?  Hence five distinct 'career' moves, though don't know that one can call each as career, given this implies a continuous and uninterrupted flow of practice.  Perhaps I would be better to consider my 'career' to be the adjustment to life (i.e. finding my valence) and the sustenance for that coming from a number of different sources.

But to whet a curious appetite...

First ever job?  Egg-packer.  Saturday work during school years. No paper round for me!  The money bought me the first pair of high-heeled shoes I ever owned.  Red and white platform sandals.  Suddenly I was a girl of fashion.  Shame about the National Health specs.

Second job?  Girl Friday in the engineering office my father was boss of in Benin City, Nigeria.  Many useful skills were established (beyond the standard secretarial).  One of my faves was how to manage prospective local sub-contractors arriving with a variety of items ranging from the mundane bottles of hooch to the less mundane half-dozen goats.  Useful when 'negotiating'. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink.  … the goats, it turned out, were an offering for the boss's daughter's hand in marriage as wife number six.  (Were you reading closely?)

Third job?   Retail in Edinburgh.  Specifically, paint and decorating supplies.     Officially the first of the 'careers'.  OOOhhhh now there's a lot of stories around that one…..

You see?  Random is my order.  I am Wild YAM.  Mostly edible.  Occasionally dangerous to health. 

Do keep returning to sample the flavours!!


 Image taken from HERE


  1. Egg packing, mum nearly had a fit when she read that, bought back bad memories. She started collecting the eggs with my Uncle Laurie in the horrible hens houses they had in those days, but she had to stop doing it as she got fleas!! Got job I wasn't here then.


  2. Hari OM
    OMD Vickster - I don't remember fleas though am not at all surprised - they were horrible places and I only once went with your mum to collect - I told them I would leave if they made me do it again, so was just the sorting specialist and box maker!

    Yes I think it was even before your grandmother's time!! Y xx

  3. Egg boxes. Very interesting. You've covered all angles.

  4. I can't understand half of what you're saying here, Yam dear, so am assuming it is the combination of Scottish-Nigerian-Australian-Indian dialects and not stupidity on my own part.
    I think I've mentioned the only serious item on my Bucket List is to visit Scotland again. The highlands and the islands, specifically Skye and Eriskay, both island desires having similar (musical) roots but different (stylistic) roots:
    (a) Andy Stewart singing Donald Where's Your Troosers? and
    (b) Paul Robeson singing The Eriskay Love Lilt.

  5. Morning, My Mum had a sleepless night worrying - Debbie Reynolds and Getting to Know you - just didn't sound right. Then I was rudely woken at about 6am this morning with it was Deborah Kerr (it wasn’t her singing really she was dubbed) playing Anna in the King and I.
    Yes eggs boxes Mahal, both Yam and my mum had a Saturday job in the village where we live in silly Suffolk, in the early 1970’s. It was at the time they had enormous hen houses were the poor chickens were kept in awful conditions in cages. Yam and mum (or Aitch) had this job to sort or grade the eggs, well a machine did it and then they were put onto trays (2½ doz per tray) –again the machine did this, then they put them in boxes to be sent out for delivery. They didn’t put them in the half dozen or dozen size boxes we have today in supermarkets. Yam had the job of stapling these large boxes, (she says it was because she was co-ordinated but I think it was to keep her away from the eggs as she was so heavy handed hehehe).
    This stapling has come back to haunt us this week. We – I say we in the loses sense of the word, I was downstairs patrolling the garden and checking on them every now and then from the safety of the bottom of the stairs, Mum and two of her friends came over to help her empty out the loft, this took two afternoons and now mum has to sort out all the boxes of stuff that was up there. Many of the boxes are old egg boxes and once emptied have to be flattened before they can go out with the green (recycling) bins – now don’t let’s get started on that – and the big staples have caused lots of problems with this task. Mum had forgotten about Yam’s job and after reading this blog she was so pleased to have someone to blame (hehehe).
    Well best get on we had rain overnight and now it is sunny but windy, I don’t like the wind it makes my ears fly up and mum laughs at me. More boxes to empty then she is off to Ickworth, I will have a snooze while she is out.
    xxooxx Lady Vicki

  6. Hari OM
    Kay - rather blame the menomonomumal !!! Posting past midnight tends to come and haunt one. If you thought this was bad, check out LV's comment below...

    Love your one remaining wish!!! Hold that thought because it is realistic and I hope you're planning now &*> Hoots mon, could even meet up with you there.

    Mahal/LV - yup... (looks sagely out the window)... LV - tell mum, if omelettes are required, eggs must be broken. It's a rule of life thing. %~\

  7. Lady vicky, thanks for posting on behalf of your mum. You are
    Like Kraemer ( our dog) who passed away in 2011, and jade dog. Very clued as the humans would call it. Thank mum for the update on the egg boxes. Aunty yam had never told me this story before. So you just sat as dogs do and watched mum's doing the work. Lucky considering your age, otherwise she might have asked for help. If she does pretend to be a sleep, with he ears up, so you know what's happen in'.
    We've had rain too. But woken upto a glorious day in Sydney. Feel happy in my own paradise here. Tell mum, to take cate. Lots f hugs to you and her.
    Aunty mah.


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