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And, yet again, I am feeling angry and reflective in equal measures thanks to something I’ve just seen on TV.

I’ve just seen an interview with one of the two homeless guys in Manchester who ran to help people who were bleeding and lying, seriously injured and even dying at the Arena and in the street, after the horrible attack in Manchester earlier this week. What an an amazing, selfless, wonderful human being. He fully deserves all the praise and plaudits and gratitude he is receiving, a true hero. And he wasn’t the only one either. I’m sure we’ve all heard of the other gentleman who cradled a dying woman in his arms as well. He was also homeless but that didn’t stop him trying to help where he could and offer comfort where it was needed.

But, what’s got me wondering is what’s actually happened here? What’s changed? Would the people who are setting up Go Fund Me and Just Giving appeals and donating money to these guys have even given them a second glance prior to the attack? Would they, would I, would most of us have offered help or food or money or a kind word or even a smile to them in passing? I would hope so but I don’t know. Sure, some people might have but, sadly, I am afraid the answer for the vast majority is almost certainly not. Most people, had they even noticed them and had they even reacted in any way at all would probably have done little more than tut, pull their children closer, out of the way, kept on walking and thought no more about it. If anything, that’s all.

So there we have it and here’s my big question of the day. What was it about these men that made them so unapproachable beforehand that has now changed? What was it that meant so many people, had they seen them begging outside the Arena last week, would have just shaken their heads and crossed the road? How many would have failed to even acknowledge their existence? Far too many I’m afraid. And what’s changed? Why are we now giving them all the help we can? What has made the difference? Why is the before scenario and the after scenario so different? These guys are still homeless, still down on their luck, still in dire need of help. All that’s changed is that their kindness and humanity has been spotted and highlighted and brought to the world’s attention thanks to the events of Monday night. Nothing else, that’s it.

But surely that kindness and humanity and goodness was there before the bomb. It can’t have just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. All that’s changed is that it just wasn’t recognised due to the  predisposition we seem to have in assuming that the people who are on the street must have done something bad to deserve it.

Why do we think like that? Just because someone is homeless and destitute and begging does not make them bad and deserving of whatever has happened to them. Just because someone has somewhere nice to live and a well-paid job and plenty to eat and lovely holidays does not make them good. The truth is that the homeless guy round the corner is little more than one step away from having a job and their own home and, the guy next door with the house and car and salaried employment is just one step away from being on the streets. No-one knows what is just round the corner for any of us which could change our lives forever, one way or the or the other. ‘There for the Grace of God, go I’ has never been more apposite.

It’s a terrible indictment on our society that it’s taken this awful event for these two homeless heroes to get the help they are now getting. Why didn’t they get that help beforehand? What has actually changed? And, what about all the other homeless people in this country who weren’t there and who weren’t able to do anything to help? Are they going to miss out yet again? I would hope not. I would hope that, whenever we see someone who is down on their luck that we remember Steve and Chris, for those are their names, and try to do something, however little, to show that we care.

I, for one am certainly going to try to make sure I don’t pass by on the other side in future. A simple smile or a quick ‘hello’ won’t hurt me and it might help a homeless person feel like person again, it might even be the very thing that tips the scale and makes a real difference.

I am so happy.

Saturday was a good news day for me.

After several weeks of waiting, I finally received the two brown envelopes through the letterbox which told me how I’d done with my enforced PIP (Personal Independence Payment) application and my ESA (Employment Support Allowance) reassessment and I was successful for both Benefits.

And, further to that, a very good family friend also received her brown envelope for PIP on Sarurday as well and she’s been successful as too. Virtual High Fives all over our social media pages let me tell you – we were delerious. We both got to sleep properly for the first time in quite a while that night and we can now both breathe freely once more because we know that our finances are guaranteed for at least the next few years at any rate.

Brilliant!

But, there is something we both want to know. Why is it that the maximum award we could receive was for ten years and then we will both need to go through the full assessment procedure once again.

Why?

Why just ten years?

I have MS. I am unable to walk, work or care for myself at all, I am a wheelchair user, I cannot dress myself, wash or bathe myself, prepare my own meals or feed myself without help. I have a catheter and I spend the majority of my time stuck in bed, and I am not going to get any better. I can only ever stay the same or, as is more likely, get worse. My friend has a visual impairment. She cannot see to look after herself or her child. She also needs help with so many things on a day-to-day basis. And, guess what, she will never recover either. Just like me she will stay the same or get worse for the rest of her life. There is no magic bullet that can cure either of us. And, for both of us, this is for always. This is for ever. Our impairments are degenerative and incurable. And, thanks to our impairments, neither of us are to ever be able to work and support ourselves, however much the Government would like us too.

But, here’s the thing. Both of us have been transferred to PIP from the old Benefit, Disability Living Allowance (DLA), where we both had life-time awards. Now we are in receipt of PIP, we don’t. The old Benefit understood that neither of us would improve – ever – so we were given awards that recognised this fact. Under DLA we both recieved awards that meant we would not be pestered, made to fill in intrusive and invasive forms the size of a small novel, questioned, examined, prodded, poked and assessed as if we were making it up and were lying about the difficulties we had in our everyday lives because of our impairments. Thanks to the transfer to PIP, we will now have to go through this all over again in ten years time. And, if we survive that, ten years further on from there too. And we’re not the only people to experience this. Other people with incurable, lifelong conditions are getting the same result. Ten years is the max.

Do the boffins at the DWP know something we don’t know? Is there a cure for MS, for blindness, for so many other impairments just round the corner?  

All this ten year thing will do is cause worry, stress and countless sleepless nights for disabled people and their families and cost the Tax-payer millions. People with incurable impairments will need to be sent forms to complete that have to be printed and posted at a considerable cost to the State. People with incurable impairments will need to undergo unnecessary assessments, undertaken by paid assessors at home or at disability testing centres at a considerable cost to the State. People with incurable impairments will need to be sent letters and copies of their assessment reports telling them they have been re-awarded their Benefits that have to be printed and posted, at a considerable cost to the State.  It does not make sense.

What’s wrong with having a Life-time Award for disabled people with incurable life-long, degenerative impairments? An award that recognises that there are some disabled people who will never get better and will always need help. If people are already getting the maximum award they can get and can’t improve, what’s the point in checking to make sure that they still can’t do the things they couldn’t do ten years earlier? If there is no more money available, if the award cannot go up, if things can’t change what’s the point? People who are not going to get better don’t need to be reminded of this fact every ten years.

Once someone has been assessed, if they have been awarded the maximum available and there is no chance of anything changing apart from things getting worse then just leave it alone. Stop the endless form-filling, stop the endless prodding, poking and assessing, stop the printing and posting, stop the endless stream of brown envelopes, stop the stress, stop the worry. It benefits no-one, it saves nothing and it’s all  done at considerable cost to the Taxpayer.

I am angry.

Yet again, I am angry and yet again it is our not-so-noble Prime Minister and her Tory cohorts who have angered me. What a surprise eh? Who would have guessed it.

So, what has Mrs May done his time to rattle my cage?

Well, it’s not hard but, amongst a plethora of other things, the thing that has really riled me this time is the TV interview that she gave, with her husband Philip, on the BBC1 early evening chat show, ‘The One Show’ on Tuesday. I freely admit that I didn’t watch all of it. I couldn’t but the little I did watch made me seethe. I lasted for a total of about five fist-clenching, teeth-grinding minutes before I was forced to change channel. Not because I desperately wanted to watch the programme I switched to, no, I just couldn’t stand to watch any more of the cringe-worthy, sexist clap-trap that was being spouted by our leader and her lap-dog of a husband.

Totally disgusting tripe.

And now, today, the spouse of another Tory grandee is reiterating the self-same nonsense in an article in a Tory-loving daily newspaper. Argh!!!!! Horrible, revolting, mid-20th-century, sexist garbage.

But, what, I hear you ask, was it?

Well, on Tuesday night, Mrs and Mr May, when talking about their day-to-day lives and trying to sound as if they lived lives that are the same as everyone else’s lives, started talking about the household chores that they each undertook. Mr May said that, just like everyone else, he took the bins out. The PM was asked by the interviewer if she did this too and that’s when she made me angry. She told the nation that no, she didn’t because there were ‘Boy jobs and Girl jobs and taking the bins out was a Boy job.’ And now, Sarah Vine is saying the exact same thing. She is saying that the secret to a lasting, loving relationship is for there to be ‘Girl jobs’ and ‘Boy-jobs’.

Excuse me?

Boy jobs and Girl jobs? Which decade do these women live in? Why is taking the bin out a so-called Boy job? Because girls can’t do it because it will mess up their pretty frocks or grubby up their delicate hands? Balderdash. I thought that attitude went out in the nineteen sixties and seventies, almost half a century ago. The Sexual Revolution, Sexual Liberation, is something that happened in the past, something that should rightly be consigned to the history books and Wikipedia, not something we should still be fighting for now, in the twenty-first century.

And what about ‘Girl-jobs? What are they exactly? Should women be found solely in the kitchen, doing the housework or looking after the kids whilst the men do the difficult things such as putting up shelves, manufacturing flat-pack furniture and disposing of household waste. Is this what Mrs May and Ms Vine are saying? Well that’s what it looks like to me. The Tories accuse Corbyn and the Labour Party of trying to take this country back to a previous age but they’re trying to do exactly the same thing themselves.

What about women who live alone or, live in an all female household? What are they supposed to do? Live in filth because they are unable to take a bin-bag to the wheely-bin outside, survive without their flat-pack wardrobe and pile all their things on the floor because they have insufficient shelving? Ring for help from an ex-partner, husband or expensive handyman service? Ask the nearest male they can find such as a neighbour or passer-by for help? I don’t think so. Unless Mrs May or Ms Vine have a better idea, many women will just have to get on with it and do it themselves.

And this throw-away comment has made me wonder what the Department of Work and Pensions would have to say on the subject. All over the country there are men and women who have to document their job-search activities if they are to receive their meagre weekly or fortnightly Welfare Benefits payments. When someone applies for Job-Seekers Allowance they have to sign a pledge or contract that stipulates that they will apply for any suitable jobs that come up. They have to document all their efforts which then have to be shown to the people at the Jobcentre every time they sign on. And then, if their efforts to find work are deemed to be insufficient and they don’t have a valid reason for their failure to get a job, they are sanctioned and lose benefits for a shorter or longer period of time until the can show they are trying harder. I wonder what would happen if a job-seeker told their employment adviser at the Job-Centre that the reason they had not found work was that yes, there was work available but that work was for the wrong gender. Would that ever be acceptable?  Somehow, I don’t think so. Anyone who tried that trick would swiftly find themselves with no money and queuing outside their nearest foodbank.

When will Mrs May and Ms Vine join Mr Corbyn, Mr Farron, Ms Sturgeon, Ms Wood et al in the real world and not remain firmly stuck in the past. Boy-jobs and Girl-jobs have been and gone and, in my opinion, good riddance to them. Household tasks are just that, tasks. Tasks that can be done by anyone in the household, regardless of gender, not girl-jobs and boy-jobs, just boring, mundane, everyone tasks.   

What is it about being a disabled person which means that everyone seems to think they have a right to know every grisly detail about your life? What is it about having a wheelchair that make you suddenly become public property?

I have not always been a disabled person, I used to be, what is laughingly called, ‘normal’. That’s how I grew up, but, when I was in my mid twenties, everything changed. I became ill and was diagnosed with an incurable and degenerating condition. Not my fault, not what I wanted, not what I was expecting, not my life plan, but it happened and there was nothing much I could do about it except to deal with it and carry on. Life is, after all, for living, whatever hand you have been dealt and however hard it seems to be. Plans change, situations change, everything can change. Nothing ever happens the way you expect so you just have to adapt and do the best you can with what you have. After all, you only get one go at life, what you have is not a rehersal, so, in my opinion, you have no option but to make the most of it and have fun, whatever happens.

But how much fun can you have when the world’s never-ending contingent of poke-noses come along? Sure, when you are diagnosed with a lifelong condition you can expect to be prodded, probed, questioned and cross examined by the medical profession, that is, after all, part of their job but then there is everyone else. All the other people that want to know everything.

There’s the people who decide if you are going to get all the equipment you need, such a wheelchair or a hoist. What do you need them for? How often are you going to need them? When do you expect to be cured? How heavy are you? We just need to weigh you. And, how tall are you? Are you sure? You look taller. We just need to measure you. And what’s your waist measurement? How wide is your bottom? Do you know how long your thighs are from knee to hip? I’ll just get my tape measure. Non-stop but seemingly justifiable questions. They’re fine – annoying but fine. 

Then there are the people who decide if you are going to receive any financial help from the State. They send you forms which include page after page of questions which need a written response and documentary proof if you have it. How does your impairment affect you on a daily basis? Are you able to get washed and dressed on your own? Can you brush your hair? How about your teeth, do you deal with brushing them yourself? Can you manage your own medication? Do you cook your own meals or does someone else have to come in to help you? Can you eat without help? How about using the toilet or having shower, can you manage to do that? Again, legitimate questions, but it’s still not nice. When you are disabled you really should focus on the things you can still do, not the things you can’t. If you focus on those things, the way all the legitimate questions make you do, then it is just so depressing and soul-destroying. You start to wonder what the point of carrying on is and whether you are just a burden. Not healthy.

But, at least there’s a point, of sorts, for all of those questions, money equipment, treatment, all bearable and understandable. No, the questions I’m talking about, the questions you really don’t need are the questions you get from random passers by. The taxi-drivers who ask “So, what’s wrong with you?”, the busy-bodies who seem to think it’s their right to know. Well, it isn’t.

When you’re waiting at the bus-stop in your wheelchair, you don’t expect to be asked by a small child how you use a toilet. You don’t expect to be quizzed by a teenager about whether you can still have inter-course. You don’t need to be challenged by a pensioner about your finances and told you are a scrounger. And you really don’t need to be interrogated by someone you’ve never met before on why you haven’t killed yourself yet. What are you supposed to say to that one? I’m a bit busy to do it today? Not this week thanks? Maybe next month? 

What is it that makes people think it’s they have the right to ask me personal, intrusive questions if they are not a specialist or a professional? Well, in my opinion, it isn’t. Not everyone has the right to ask me anything. Sure, the medics do and the Welfare Benefits assessor does and the Social Care Provider does and the disability equipment specialists do but that’s it. No-one else need to know anything at all about me at all unless I choose to tell them. I have just the same right to privacy as a non-disabled person. What is it about being disabled that makes me public property? If you’re not in the need-to-know category I would urge you to consider once again what right you have to know intimate things about my impairment, my business, my private life. Before you ask me that burning question, ask yourself if you would like to be asked the same thing and if you really have a right to ask me. Once you’ve done that, if your answer is that you wouldn’t and you don’t, then stop, swallow it and walk away. It’s none of your business and I probably won’t like it either.

Sticky-beaks and poke-noses would you just butt out and leave me alone, I’ve had enough.

So, on Wednesday our glorious leader, Theresa ‘Will of the People’ May is going to trigger Article 50 and begin the process of ripping us, kicking and screaming, from the relative sanctuary and sanity of the EU. This is not something I voted for and is not what I wanted but it’s happening and there’s not a lot I can do now to change it. I’ve voted, I’ve blogged, I’ve protested, I’ve voiced my opinion, I’ve given countless explanations and justifications for what I believe but to no avail. It’s happening and, protest as I might, I don’t think anything can now stop it. All I can do is hope that when things go wrong, as I expect them to do, we will be allowed, by the other EU members, to rejoin.

But that’s a hope for the future. There are other more pressing, more immediate things which need to be challenged now before it’s too late. I have seen yet another news report about what Mrs M is proposing which, if it’s possible, scares me even more than leaving the EU. It scares the living daylights out of me. According to what I have just read, after triggering Article 50 on Wednesday, the government will then publish its Great Repeal Bill on Thursday.

The Great Repeal Bill? What’s that. We’ve all heard of it but how many of us know what it really means.

Well, according to everything I’ve found out so far and according to the original report I read, apart from anything else, this Bill will propose giving Government Ministers the power to change some aspects of European laws, when they have been incorporated into UK legislation, without needing the approval of Parliament.

Excuse me?

Can we just look at that again.

What is actually being proposed here?

This is a Bill which will give Tory Ministers the power to change our domestic laws without needing the approval of Parliament. This is a Bill which would give the Tories free rein to make whatever changes they want to our laws without any checks and balances. Without any way of stopping them, without any of us, or our elected representatives from other parties, having a say. I know one of the things the Brexit camp was advocating during the Referendum process was that by leaving the EU we could ‘take back control’ but was this really what the people who voted to leave the EU last June wanted? A Tory Government which can make up it’s own rules, unhindered, unopposed and unchallenged?

I don’t think so.

I really hope not at any rate.

In my opinion, as an idea, allowing a Government to do it’s own thing in this way is just so wrong, so frightening, so dangerous. I mean, as an idea it’s been tried before and it didn’t go too well then, so why we should, as a country, try it again defeats me. What is there about the idea which makes us think it could work this time when it went so terribly wrong last time. Nothing. Nothing good can possibly come from it. Have people really missed something we all supposedly learnt in our history lessons at school, or at least, did they not take sufficient notice of the lessons of the not so distant past not to say no, not again? Well, maybe we should take the time to look in our libraries and online for the information we all, so badly, seem to need. I know I only got a grade C at ‘O’ Level in the subject but, if I remember what I was taught correctly a certain Herr Hitler tried this trick too. In 1933, in Germany, the Enabling Act gave the German Cabinet, in effect, Chancellor Adolf Hitler, the power to enact laws without the involvement of the German Government, the Reichstag. Now, to me that sounds frighteningly familiar. To me, that sounds to be almost exactly the same thing that Mrs May is proposing for our country now. And I believe it is a step too far. Politicians from the ruling party getting rid of the laws they don’t like and imposing their own rules on the people without anyone being able to stop them from doing it. Just no. That is, in my opinion, a step too far down a path we should not travel. I am happy to admit that some of the laws that the EU makes may not the best and I’m happy to admit that some of these laws are not ideal for our country and may need tweaking but not without proper scrutiny and someone saying ‘No’ if necessary. When we elect our politicians we expect them to do this and keep us safe from legislation which could hurt us in the long term. And, the idea that our current Government, meaning the Tories, should be allowed to change things alone and at will is just terrifying and cannot be allowed.

We all need to write to our MPs, to our Party Leaders, to the Press, to everyone we can think of that may have any influence whatsoever begging them to try and stop this madness. We need to stop this country from becoming a dictatorship. Mrs May is proposing on taking a step too far down a destructive path which we should not travel and, somehow, she needs to be stopped before it’s too late.

Reusing a catchphrase from my childhood, we all need to ‘Just Say No’.

I am absolutely furious with my Housing Association, London and Quadrant Housing Trust.

I have been a tenant of theirs for almost 30 years now and they KNOW about my impairment and the fact that I am now restricted to bed 24/7. It’s on my record. Yet the way I have been treated by their employees today has been disgusting.

Let me explain.

This morning, when my carer arrived, we discovered that there was no hot water in the tank and that the heating was off. Once my carer had managed to deal with everything that needed doing – she had to boil a kettle so she could help me wash – I set about ringing to get someone round to deal with the situation.

And that is when my problems really started.

The first thing that happened was that I encountered a recorded message on the direct dial maintenance line phone. It informed me that, as it was the weekend, the Maintenance Department was now closed until Monday morning and that I should phone back then, during office hours. Not good. A long weekend of freezing to death loomed large. No thanks!

Nothing daunted I decided to search online until I could find another number with a human being to talk to at the other end of the line as I was certain there must be an Emergency, 24 hour number I could call listed somewhere. Sure enough, I eventually managed to find one for the L&Q Head Office and, when I rang that, I was immediately put through to their Emergency Maintenance Department. It was now around 11.30 am.  

The woman I spoke to took my details and, once I’d explained about being severely disabled and restricted to bed, said that she would call the boiler engineering firm they used and that someone would be round before 4pm. Sorted. Re-assured that everything would get dealt with relatively quickly, I settled back to wait for a knock on the door and the promise of warmth once more.

But, even though the minutes and hours ticked slowly and icily past, nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

Finally, at about 4.45pm, fed up and freezing, I rang the same number I’d found this morning once more. This time I got a different receptionist who, once she had taken my details, looked me up on her computer and told me there was no record of my call from this morning noted at all! Not a word. As a result, no engineers had been contacted and no-one was coming.

Yet again I explained the situation and my circumstances and the fact I was freezing and that’s when she said something that infuriated me. Despite the fact I had told her, only minutes beforehand, that I was restricted to bed due to my impairment and unable to get up or walk or go out at all she told me there was nothing she could do before Monday and that, if I was cold, I should go out, buy a heater and boil a kettle if I needed hot water.

Just what part of ‘Paralysed’, ‘Restricted to bed’, ‘Severely disabled’ and ‘Unable to walk or to move about’ is so difficult to understand?

After huffing and puffing and coming very close to bursting into tears of frustration I went through it all again and, finally, she said she’d phone the engineers and ask them to ring me and tell me when they’d be round.

And then she hung up on me!

Four hours later, engineers conspicuous by their absence, I have just finished my third call of the day to the, so-called, Emergency Maintenance Line and, yet again, I have been promised that someone will be out tonight and that I will be getting a call from the Engineers themselves to tell me when the visit will be.

It’s not looking promising and I am disgusted by the way I have been treated. If nothing hapens soon I have a pretty good idea what I’ll be doing tomorrow, and it won’t be shivering silently in a corner. 

London and Quadrant maybe a Social Housing firm but, as I’ve learnt today, if you’re severely disabled and have an urgent issue that needs fixing, ‘Don’t hold your breath’.

I’ve just read yet another outraged post about women who breastfeed in public. And yet again, the main thrust of the argument being spouted against it is that it’s disgusting and should be banned, especially when it is done in public, particularly in a cafe of restaurant.

Why?

What’s wrong with it? I’ve seen some truly disgusting things in restaurants such as people who lick their knives, people who chew with their mouth open and people who talk with their mouth full and spray half chewed food and spittle everywhere. Can we ban these people too please?

What does everyone who goes to cafe do when they get there? Have a drink! Eat! Why should a baby be any different? We all need to have regular meals, why should a baby be any different. And the idea that a breastfeeding woman should go to the toilet and feed their baby there – really? Would the people who say that like to eat their dinner sitting on the toilet? No? I thought not, no-one would. If you bottle-fed your baby you have to make sure things are sterilised and clean so you don’t introduce harmful bacteria into the baby’s system yet breastfeeding Mums are often being asked to go to the toilet and fed their child there. Disgusting. What is wrong with people in this country. If the sight of a woman doing something perfectly natural like breastfeeding offends you and disgusts you so much there try this for an idea – look the other way.

I think another report I saw this morning gets right to the nub of the issue. This second report was about a politician in the USA who said that if a woman got out her breasts in public to feed her child then he has the right to grope her. What we have here is a man, and yes, the politician in question was a man, seeing a woman’s breasts as his own personal play thing. Well they aren’t. They have a purpose which is not to entertain and titillate. They have developed and evolved over millennia as a way to nourish the next generation. Breasts are not a sex toy.

And then there was a third report I saw this evening, on the same subject, which angered and upset me more than the other two reports combined.

This report was about a woman who has been sentenced to seven years imprisonment for breastfeeding in public. Seven years. How warped is that? A woman who followed her natural instinct to nourish and nurture her child is being incarcerated for doing so. Granted, there is probably a lot more to the story than has been reported in the press, it may even be a spoof but, even so, if it is true, is imprisonment really a proportionate response? Just the thought that such a story could be given any credance at all is wrong, just the idea that such a story could be written at all says something about the nation where it reportedly happened. Let’s not forget, we’re talking about a country where a young man who sexually abused a young woman, physically assaulted her and left her, battered, bruised and bloodied, behind  rubbish bin in an alley, served just three months of a six month sentence before being released and yet, allegedly, a woman whose crime was to breastfeds her child in public supposedly gets seven years? How can this ever be seen as right. Surely, it can’t. There has to be something seriously wrong with a legal system which could, at least, allow this to happen or which even sees the idea of it happening as right.

The issue of breastfeeding, and breastfeeding in public, is something we all really need to examine again and have a proper, reasoned and rational debate about. There must be a solution that can satisfy everyone. I have to say that one idea I have seen was in the cafe of a well-known Swedish furniture store. There was a special area set aside that had comfy seats, bean bags, tables, armchairs and screens for the use of those people who wanted to breastfeed or bottle feed their child. In my opinion, what a good idea. Granted, not all cafes and restaurants are big enough to have a whole section set aside for breastfeeding Mums but surely, in most places, it must be possible to have a table or tables in a secluded corner where breast-feeding can take place in peace and quiet without anyone complaining. People who don’t like to see babies being fed would know not to sit there and breastfeeding Mums would not feel excluded and isolated. Not only that, but small children, whose presence often annoys other, adult diners, would be able to play and make a mess whilst their parents eat, without upseing anyone else.

We all really need to have a rational and reasonable discussion, find a solution which suits everyone and not stigmatise women doing something perfectly natural as disgusting and wrong. Women who breastfeed are not exposing themselves or flaunting their sexuality, they are simply nourishing their child. That’s all. Nothing more.

And, if you really are someone who really doesn’t like it, I have a simple solution for you – don’t look.