Sue's to blame for compo pain

I READ somewhere that a woman was given compensation for the distress and 'trauma' she suffered when a male colleague made amorous advances and had even had the nerve to plant light kisses on the nape of her neck.

I find it a little hard to think that an adult woman with grown-up children could not handle a situation of that nature without resorting to the courts.

It would be a great pity if the 'sue mentality' stopped the flow of pleasantries between the sexes.

Personally, over the years, I have always been rather pleased and flattered by good-natured banter and if I thought my friendliness was being mistaken for familiarity then a sharp but firm word always solved the problem.

Flirting and jesting are one of the ways men and women use to get along and it certainly makes life a little more fun and, if used properly, can stop all that nasty sexual harassment that seems to be taking its place.

It's fashionable to assume that if there is an incident, if someone's hurt or had a fall, then someone must be to blame; nothing is just be accident. Oh no! Someone must be sued, taken to court, made to pay. The cry is 'you know it's not the money it's the principle.'

Balderdash! It is, in almost all cases, all about the money.

Now we are getting to the stage where children don't play out, don't go to school by themselves.

How on earth are they going to learn the skills of self-protection? To acquire a sixth sense, to know that something is not right.

Now schools don't want to arrange day trips and are even thinking of curtailing the sports.

If that were to happen then a valuable part of the growing up process would be lost. Of course we must take care but let's not be afraid to live.

And what is it about the Grand National that makes folk like me, who never watch or think about racing, suddenly want to back a hose that is almost certainly going to lose? I can honestly say that I have never backed a winner.

Peering from behind my hands, I watch as the horses fall, or throw their rider, or watch as loose, riderless horses veer across the track. And then I shrug and once again rip up my ticket thinking 'what the heck! It's still a great event.'

I MUST have seemed rather harassed the other day as my friend, Edith, said to me 'Margo don't you ever feel like packing it all in and running away?'

It reminded me of when my three children. I put my arms round my husband and said: 'Hey, Sugar Plum! Why not let's just run away together', to which he replied: 'You know, my love, I seem to recall that's how we got in this mess.'