The Writer's Life: Monday Morning Trivia - The Day I Became a Millionaire

 

In theory, and in fact, I was once a millionaire, just not in a way that was life-changing or meaningful. Let me tell you how I reached that status, because everyone can do it.

Many years ago, I collected coins and banknotes from around the world. Old and new ones. I was never a serious collector, but I did like the design, colour, and numbers on them. Some can even be valuable to a collector, but like stamp collecting, most are not worth much, if anything at all.

When I was a boy, I would find them at rummage sales. While they have long gone out of fashion, rummage sales were great places to find a bargain. Any old coins and banknotes I found would be tucked away in an old Quality Street tin box. I’d dream that one day in the future they might be worth more than the pennies I paid for them.

The Writer's Life: First Steps On The Property Ladder (From My Soon to be Published Book)

 

Imagine the scene. It is the mid-2000's, and property prices in Britain are rocketing (as usual), and I'm viewing a property, and in conversation with an estate agent.

This is part of that conversation.

“Well, a garden would be ideal,” I said. “It’s just a bit small, more of a patio, with a bit of grass.”

Charles leaned back, full of property-market wisdom and self-assurance.

“But it would be your garden. And it wouldn’t need much work to keep it in order. Gardens add value. If you want one at this price level, this is the best you’ll find.”

He was right. Gardens did add value, but I saw the “value” as more than just money. I don’t think Charles did. And this one had already added a little too much monetary value, for me, anyway.

“I don’t think I can afford it,” I said. “The salary multiples don’t work. I might need to win the lottery.”

“Yes, the lottery! I won the lottery once, just ten pounds. I make a lot more selling houses.” He laughed.

And that’s when the conversation took a turn.

“There is one possibility,” he said. “Have you heard of a self-certification mortgage? They are quite popular at the moment.”

I had. In fact, I watched a documentary about them. They were being handed out to people that they weren’t designed for, most likely fuelling the very property boom Charles was profiting from.

“You basically fill out the form, write down your income, we send it to the bank, and it all goes through,” he explained.

“But I don’t earn enough.”

“Well,” he said, lowering his voice a little, “you just have to be a little creative in the numbers.” He smiled. “Lots of people are doing it. The banks don’t check. It always comes back approved.”

“Really?” I said, pretending to be shocked.

“Then we’ll celebrate with a bottle of champagne. You’ll be on the property ladder. And you’ll have your own little show garden.”

Did You Know… Life in 1960s/70s Britain: From Fast Food to When Wimpy Bars Banned Women From Eating Alone After Dark?

 

I can remember eating at a Wimpy Bar back in the 1970s. For the time, they offered cheap and cheerful meals, that were very popular. Fast food had arrived in Britain and everyone seemed happy.

Today, when it comes to buying a burger, there is far more choice with the likes of McDonald’s, Burger King, and Five Guys, as well as other independent burger chains. But there was once a time when Wimpy’s was the place to go if you wanted a burger.

Actually, they were often the only place to go to, depending on where you lived. You might be able to buy a burger with your chips at the local fish and chip shop, but we weren’t spoilt for choice. Wimpy Bars were a novelty. Founded in the US in 1934, the first UK Wimpy Bar was opened in London, back in 1954.

Cheap as Chips

You can find copies of Wimpy’s 1970s menu online — I’m looking at one as I write. Given the latest cost of living crisis in Britain, the prices are hard to believe.

A Wimpy burger would put you back 16½ pence. Cheeseburger 21p, Eggburger 23p, and a Wimpy king-size burger for 31p.

When it came to a full meal, chips, beans, and two burgers cost 36p. A soup could be had for 9p. Even a golden fish portion would only cost you 16½p. And whatever meal you chose, you could wash it down with a cup of tea for 5½p, or coffee at 8p. If you fancied something really sweet, a hot chocolate drink for 9p could be bought.

But before we all get too nostalgic, and hope to find a time machine to take us back to the days when things were really cheap, it’s all relative. Back in 1972, the average weekly wage was only about £36 — that’s before tax and NI. Not everyone found Wimpy to be that cheap, and price inflation in the seventies was actually horrendous.

The Ban on Women

But why and when were women banned?

Hands In The Dirt - Notes From a Vegetable Garden: From March 2025 (Extract)

A few early Spring entries from my 2025 gardening journal, Hands In The Dirt — Notes From a Vegetable Garden. Now available on Amazon.

Monday, 10th March 2025

My Garden Food Bank

I’ve had this self-sufficiency garden dream since watching the BBC comedy, The Good Life back in the 1970s. The idea of growing my own food, being self-sufficient, and saving money appealed. Now, I have a chance to do it.

Once summer arrives, the garden will be my own personal food bank. Here in England, with the cost of living rising, food inflation high, everything more expensive every year, there’s a simple pleasure in being able to grow some of my own food.

Seeing the price of fruit and vegetables in the supermarket makes me appreciate it even more. For the cost of a few pence in seeds, the garden will supply most of what I need for several months. And while it’s mostly vegetables that I grow, that’s still a big help.

Fruit, on the other hand, I find not so easy to grow. It often requires higher temperatures, and British summers aren’t always reliable. I’ve had some luck with strawberries, and I’m fortunate to live close to where wild blackberries grow. Very close, actually. At the bottom of my garden, a neighbour’s large blackberry bush spills over the fence, so all I need to do is pick.

Then there is a country park near where I live. Everywhere you look, there are blackberry bushes. For a couple of months in late summer, there are more than enough berries to go around. The best part is, they’re free.

It’s as simple as going for a walk and picking blackberries!

Tip of the Day: Use the garden (or part of it) to grow your own food and save money!

Tuesday, 11th March 2025

The Raised Beds

This year, I’ve been working on building three new raised beds in the garden. They’re fairly big (twelve by four feet, approximately), and I’ve been sketching out plans to split them, one half into a large section, and the other half into four smaller plots.

This plan might change, though, since some crops, like potatoes, will need more room. They do tend to need more space.

When it comes to the garden, I try to recycle where I can. The wood for the sides of the beds came from an old fence that was falling apart. It has seen better days, but the planks are perfect for giving the beds shape and structure.

Tip of the day: Don’t forget to rotate crops in the garden. Recycle wherever possible.

Thursday, 13th March 2025

No-Dig Gardening

The Writer's Life: You Can Never Truly Retire From Your Passion

 

We live in a world that often treats retirement as the end of productivity. We step away from the world of work, close the door, and are expected to slow down. If we are fortunate, the work we leave behind has been a passion. For some, that is true.

But for many of us, work has simply been a necessity. Bills must be paid, and inflation is constant, with the cost of living on a relentless upward cycle. We adapt because we have to. I cannot honestly say that every job I have had was driven by passion. In my experience, the world of work rarely offers that.

I’m getting closer to what is officially called retirement. The good thing is I do not feel my age.

So what then should retirement be?

As the years move on, and the date gets closer, the question feels less theoretical and more personal. Regardless of how old I may feel, my age requires that I think more about it now. It’s like having a little devil on my shoulder telling me that time is moving on and my choices going forward are limited. It reminds me that time is passing and choices might be narrowing.

Awareness focuses the mind.

For many, retirement conjures images of days of leisure, relaxation, and freedom from the previous work routine. A routine of five days a week, getting up, going to work, and nine to ten hours later getting home, comes to an end.

Traditionally, retirement meant stepping back for good. Once you retire, that is it. No more work. But things are changing now, and not necessarily in a positive way. For one, we are living longer, but often those later years are ones where health matters, for both body and mind, and can become more of a problem.

In recent times, the retirement age has been going up in many countries, simply because people living longer has become less affordable for the state. And people are not always in a position to save for their retirement, or have a generous private pension.

Retirement is no longer the short chapter it once was; provided you are healthy, it can now stretch for decades. That is a lot of time to fill. Fortunately, I am doing well when it comes to health and fitness. But for many, health issues take their toll once we reach our sixties and seventies.

And there are two things about the future that I know with absolute certainty.

Christmas Comes But Once a Year — But Does It Have to Start in November?

I nipped into my local ASDA yesterday and was greeted, actually ambushed, by their Grinch-inspired Christmas extravaganza plastered across the entrance. And apparently I’m already behind the times: the whole thing kicked off on the first of November. 

In true modern fashion, there’s even a YouTube video to usher us into the season of goodwill and maximum spending. It’s all very commercial, of course. But then, that’s what Christmas has become, a festive excuse to flog as much stuff as possible. Step past the cheery Grinch, and you’re immediately confronted by neat piles of chocolates in “tins.” 

Except they’re not tins any more, are they? They’re round plastic containers, half the size of the tins from my youth. At least, it feels that way. I remember those big tins; you could make your own drum set out of them, and we did. There again, I was a boy at the time, so, maybe that is why they looked a lot bigger? No, actually, they were big tins.

A fine example of shrinkflation wrapped in festive plastic.

And let’s be honest: anything bought in early November labelled “Christmas chocolates” will never survive until Christmas. I can already hear the household negotiations:

“Mum, can I have a chocolate? Just one.”

The child eyes up the container like a pirate sizing up treasure.

“No.”

“Why not? I only want one!”

“Because they’re for Christmas, that’s why.”

Of course, one eventually gets eaten, then another… Then everyone joins in, and the plastic tub is empty by the weekend. The shop makes another sale, the cycle repeats, and Christmas creeps ever earlier.

I suppose this makes me a bit of a Grinch myself. I refuse to get involved so early — it’s simply too soon. And besides, I haven’t yet heard Noddy Holder yelling “It’s Christmassssss…!” across a supermarket PA system. Until that happens, it’s definitely not Christmas.

The Truth About Medium, An Interlude - Writing For Pennies - A Poem

Writing for pennies, I wait and dream,

Writing for pennies, is not what it seems.

Writing for pennies, just you and me,

Writing for pennies, stories no one can see.

Writing for pennies, time moves so fast,

Writing for pennies, good times never last.

Writing for pennies, I want my reward,

Writing for pennies, I’m getting so bored.

Writing for pennies, too good to be true,

Writing for pennies, no time to feel blue.

Writing for pennies, for every penny earned,

Writing for pennies, a life lesson learned.

Writing for pennies, where stories unfold,

Writing for pennies, more precious than gold.

Writing for pennies, a tale to be told,

Writing for pennies, I won’t sell my soul.

I originally published this poem on Medium in early September. 

The Truth About Medium - Part Six - Here's the One About Money

 

This post covers my earnings at Medium for 2024-25. 

2024 earnings from the time I joined the Medium Partner Program to the end of December.

Sep — $11.55

Oct — $7.47

Nov — $36.52

Dec — $10.19

2025.

Jan — $2.49

Feb — $1.46

Mar — $2.04

Apr — $2.88

May — $0.63

Jun — $2.74

Jul — $1.24

Aug — $0.54

Sep — $0.04 

The Truth About Medium - Part Five - Let's Talk About Money

One of Medium’s biggest attractions for writers is the chance to earn money right away. You join the Medium Partner Program (MPP), write, publish, and with every read from a paying member, you earn a little something in return.

Exactly how much per read? Well, that’s the mystery.

There’s a formula used — some calculation involving views, reads, and “engagement.” I’ve tried to figure it out, but like many others, I never cracked the code. Only Medium and the algorithm have the answer to that.

Still, some writers were making good money on Medium. It felt like if you show up, engage, publish regularly, and build a loyal following, you too could join the platform’s top earners.

Then comes the reality check.

Where the Money Comes From

Let’s start with where the money for writers actually comes from. It’s drawn from the pool of funds that paying members contribute — the same members who subscribe through the MPP.

Here’s where things get tricky.

How many people join Medium to just read? And how many sign-up hoping to write and earn? We roughly know the number of members, but Medium doesn’t break it down. If most members are writers, not readers, then for every person making a decent monthly, "side-hustle" income — say $500 — hundreds of others would need to make almost nothing. The money doesn’t stretch far enough.

The reason is simple: the money writers earn comes largely from the same pot they pay into. If the membership is mostly writers, it is clear that most cannot get back more than their membership fee.

If Medium had millions of paying readers who didn’t write, the pot would be much bigger, and there’d be more to go around.

Medium’s Business Model

Five More Signs of an English Baby Boomer - Things Can Only Get Better

 

1)  A cost of living crisis would happen every few years. 

Money was tight, inflation was often high, and austerity was the norm for many. People were told, “You have never had it so good.” Depends on how you define ‘good’. If it’s a little better than bad, then I suppose it was good.

2)  You watched television showing a man landing on the moon. 

I do remember seeing someone walking on the moon. Years later, pop group The Police sang about walking on the moon. And conspiracy theorists told us that the moon landing was recorded in a studio on earth. 

Next they will be saying that the Clangers aren’t real.

Money, Money, Money - I'm in the Money. When Money Changes.

  

 

Money was different when I was a boy.

It really was different. 

It actually changed when decimalisation was introduced in the UK on 15 February 1971. The old currency system of pounds, shillings, and pence was replaced by a decimal system where the pound was divided into 100 new pence.

New coins were introduced from that date, although some had been in circulation two to three years prior.

Here is a list of the old money, coins and notes that were in issue when I was a lad. 

Ha’penny: A coin that was worth 1/2 of a penny. 

There were times when I had a lot of these, often saved in a jam jar.

Penny: A coin that was worth 1 penny. It was also called a copper. 

There was a time when I would regularly take beer bottles back to the local off-licence shop and be given a penny for each. The bottle returns were a valuable source of income for a young lad back then. Mind you, I think it is possible that quite a few adults were wondering why I was encouraging them to drink more. 

Also, the name of Miss Moneypenny in the Bond films.

Thrupence: A coin that was worth 3 pence. 

Known as a joey, but I don’t remember ever calling it that. A twelve-sided coin with character. Having some of these was a step up from the humble penny.

Tanner: A coin that was worth 6 pence. 

The coin was small, silver, and shiny. From what I can remember, it was very easy to lose, especially if you had a hole in your pocket. I suppose that the modern-day equivalent would be the five-pence coin.

It was sometimes referred to as an “Elsie”, after a character named Elsie Tanner in the popular television soap, Coronation Street. Well, that’s what it was called in our house.

Memoir: A Journey Back in Time to a Summer Job That Helped Fund My Holiday.

When I was a young boy, my mother set me a challenge. It was during the long school holiday one year, and she was hoping to keep me busy and out of her way.

The challenge was that if I did a certain amount of housework and errands over the following seven days, I would be rewarded with ten shillings.

Ten shillings was a lot of money back then, in the early 1970s. It was equal to fifty pence today, but it bought you a lot more. 

For a young boy, it was a big deal, and I would either be paid in coins or a “ten bob” banknote.

A Story About Fame and Legacy - Anna Sewell and a Horse Called Black Beauty

 

When I was a young lad, if ever I got a little too ambitious, my mother would say to me.

“You need to come back down to earth.”

Sometimes, when I was being far too ambitious.

“You need to get off your high horse.”

Meaning — stop acting as if you think you are better than others.

An idiom.

I grew up in a time when idioms were popular.

But I had no idea what an idiom was. I was probably not paying attention to the teacher at school.

I think it was my mother’s way of letting me down gently.

Life was regularly a letdown.

I did wonder about the high horse, though.

I lived in a city in middle England, so the only time we ever saw a horse was on television. Usually, the racing from Newmarket, Kempton, or some other place that I would only ever see on the magical television screen.

The television also bought us a popular series for children about a horse called Black Beauty. It was based on an original story by writer Anna Sewell. It was published in 1877, and she was paid a grand total of £40.

It has to be said that £40 is not much for writing a book, when you consider all the time and effort involved. Unfortunately for Sewell, because of ill health, it took her several years to write it.

But it was in 1877, and back then £40 might have been a lot of money.

I had to find out.

Lessons From the Day I Met An Investment Advisor

It was about twenty years ago that I was offered the chance to meet an investment advisor at my local bank. The meeting would be about the new opportunities they could offer, and the best long-term strategy to adopt.

                                                                      Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

I decided to go along, more out of interest than any likelihood that I was going to pursue any of the options offered, but I wanted to hear what they had to say.

I knew that the bank probably had something that they wanted to sell me. A fund, or maybe a market tracker?

So, I met with one of their advisors.

He was a young man who had the look of a banker. Swept back black hair and wearing what looked like an expensive suit.

Reminded me of the Wolf of Wall Street, except this was Middle England.

I was casually dressed. I don’t think that I looked like a high-wealth individual, but there again, I knew there were many business leaders who dressed smart and casual.

I was not a business leader, though.

We had a conversation, and I was asked what my investment goals were.

To make money, or at the very least, not to lose it? That was too obvious.

In the stock market, there is a chance that you could lose it. You can lose every penny. Companies do go bust. Or you just get unlucky, and the bull market that has been running for several years comes to an end just as you invest.

But it is also possible to do very well. Timing and time can work in your favour.

The Twelve Posts of Christmas - Day Five: Marshmallow or Book? What Would You Prefer?

 A while back, someone posted the image below on Twitter X. It speaks for itself.

We live in a world where you can buy a book, new, for a few pounds or less. Self-published are often offered for free. Buying a book could well be one of the cheapest forms of entertainment around at the moment. All you need is your imagination. 

You can spend £5 to £10 on a magazine these days.By comparison, books are cheap.

Then I came across this picture.

A marshmallow for £3.95? I'd rather buy a book, or maybe two for that. 

Then there is the bargain-basement, or charity shops, car boot sales, flea markets… Cheap or even free books are everywhere. How is the wanabe writer going to make a living? Most don't.

The Price of Magazines, Just Buy a Book Instead!

I rarely buy magazines these days, the same with newspapers, the availability of free information on the internet means that I don't really need them any more.  

But occasionally, I will check the news-stand when out shopping, just to see if there are any magazines that I can remember.  I was doing this the other night in my local ASDA and one thing stood out about all the magazines that I looked at, the price. 

I am old enough to remember a time when you could buy a magazine for a pound or less.  

Okay, that was quite a while ago, but I think the last time I paid full price for a magazine it cost me £1.99.  Most of the magazines that I picked up the other night, just looking mind, were in the £4.95 to £9.99 price range.  Many of them had pages of adverts as well! I couldn't help but think, does anyone actually buy them? 

We are living through yet another cost of living crisis, but ten quid for a magazine?

You could buy a book for the same price. 

In fact, books can often be found for a lot less than a tenner.

Now, I like a bargain book.

I've written about the charity shop that I go to that often has a five books for a pound sale. I've managed to get some good books that way, but these days you can buy brand-new books for less than the price of a magazine. 

ASDA also had a selection of books for sale, many of them were of the bestseller variety, and they were priced between £1.99 and £4.99.  

Online you can find many priced at £0.99p or free, especially from indie, self-published authors.  

Magazine or book?  I think I'd rather buy a book.

Going For a Walk, and the Satisfaction of Picking Blackberries

I'm fortunate in that there is a local park just across the road from where I live.  It is a country park where you are invited by the local council to walk through woodland, grassland, wildflower meadows and open water. It's home to many varieties of birds, where the ducks, geese, and swans will come and greet you in the expectation that you might feed them. A local canal and river also runs through the park.

 

There is something else about this time of year on the park. It is fantastic for blackberry picking. From around July to the end of August there is a feast to be had, if you like blackberries that is. I do, as a healthy option for breakfast or in a smoothie, and they are free. They are just starting to ripen now, although the full on black ones are still hard to find, every day there are more and more. 

That Friday Feeling… A Journey back in time to 1966, 1968 and 1970

Here are three things that we may never see again.

1) A pay packet with actual money in it (but, in this case, not much money). So low, that they paid no income tax.

2) England winning the World Cup.

The 1966 World Cup, at Wembley Stadium.

By a score of four goals to two. It is a scoreline that every English football fan remembers. Alas, it will never happen again, as West Germany no longer exists. Now, England have to play the whole of Germany.

3) House prices this low (I think this one is a certainty).

There was a time when five grand could buy you a house in Britain. Semi-detached as well, with gardens, front, and back — and a garage.

And they were still being built with a chimney!

But I suppose how low pay was for some — see number one, five grand would have been a lot back then.

These Boots Are Made For Walking…and The Law of Attraction — Part One

 

About a month ago, I was out walking when a thought came to me that I really needed a new pair of walking boots. My old walking boots, more of a walking shoe really, had seen better days. The sole was beginning to show wear and tear, damaged from years of pounding the pavements and walking country paths.

I had put in the mileage on my footwear, and it was time for a new pair.

But I knew that a new pair of walking boots would not be cheap. A good quality walking boot, with a decent hard-wearing sole, is always likely to be expensive. The cheaper ones with softer tread on the sole never last that long. Over the years, I have had many, and they tend not to last. I must be a heavy walker. I certainly walk fast, which apparently is good for you but not so good for the boots.

The cheaper boots often look good, but as the saying goes, you get what you pay for, and I do like a bargain. Not so easy in these days with the rising cost of living. Mind you, I’ve always lived a fairly frugal life, and when it comes to footwear, I’ve usually managed to find a bargain—eventually. Typically, from a charity shop or a car boot sale (flea market in the USA), but I couldn’t rely on that happening this time.

Would my old walking boots endure until I found a bargain? The need for a new pair of boots was definitely on my mind.

And then something strange happened. Really strange.

A week or so later, I was on a trek to an appointment I had to keep. I had made the four-mile journey many times and could take several routes. In the end, I chose a route but then changed my mind when I was halfway there. A little further on I changed my mind again, deciding to take a scenic walk through open fields, finally reaching a road that I had not walked for many years.

It was there that I had my out-of-the-ordinary, strange experience.

I approached a bend in the road, and there on the grass verge was a pair of walking boots just lying there. They were about eight feet apart as if they had been thrown from a passing car. I picked them up expecting them to be worn down, tatty, old, and falling apart. That wasn’t the case. In fact, they seemed as good as new, just a little dusty. It was the kind of dust that boots pick up on a building site. They were in far better condition than the boots I was wearing.

I decided to take them with me. I would decide what to do with them after my appointment.

Meeting over, I walked home via a different route. On the way, I found a bench to sit on and decided to check out the boots. They were a good make, The North Face, and were in excellent condition. They didn’t even look as if they had been worn before. I put them on, not expecting them to fit, but remarkably, they were exactly my size. I walked the rest of the way home in them, about three miles.

They were the most comfortable walking boots that I had ever worn.

I later checked to find out how much they would have cost new. The price range for similar boots was around £100. I knew they were good quality, as the sole was of a harder tread. The type of boot that would last years.

It was as if they had been left in the road just for me.

As the saying goes, I had got lucky in my find, but perhaps it was something more.

 

 

 

Edited and updated, June 2026. 

Charity Shop Book Haul: Bargain Hunting for Books

I do like to look for bargains in charity shops.  I recently visited one that I had not been to for quite a while.  As soon as I got there, I made my way to the bookshelves, where I noticed a small handwritten note.

They had a book sale, five for £1. 

The sale may have been cheap, but I did have trouble in finding five that were of interest.  It always seems to be like that.  I find two or three, but five? There is always a struggle to find the last one or two. It could just be me, and they were only twenty pence each.

I came away with the following.

The Timewaster Letters by Robin Cooper (actually written by Robert Popper).  Looks fun and has some good reviews.  Huge bestseller according to the front cover.

Quite by Claudia Winkleman.  Will I ever read Claudia's offering? Is it aimed at me?  Not really.

Peaky Blinders, The Real Story by Carl Chinn.   I've never watched The TV series of Peaky Blinders, but this book might give me an idea of the real past history of Birmingham gang violence.  Do I really want to know?

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson.  Bill Bryson knows how to write an epic book, as he has been doing it for some time. I have read a couple of his travel books, but this is a big task. And it is a big book.  There again, I wonder if 574 pages are enough to cover “everything” that history has to offer?  Well, he does say “Nearly”.

Gone Fishing by Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse.  Gone Fishing is an enjoyable television series, one that I watched on YouTube — before they took it down.  When I was a child, I had a fishing rod and kit, but I never got around to using it.   I like both Mortimer and Whitehouse, and as I watched the TV series, I think I will most likely read the book.  While I have never gone fishing, I do like fish, especially with chips.

So, not bad for a quid in these cost of living crisis times.   Once I have read them, I will probably re-distribute them back to a charity shop or two.