Eartha Kitt, with whom some mature readers can identify, considered herself an old-fashioned girl. So, too, does Naomi Hare. Mind you, at a tender 41 she’s a comparative youngster.
Call her a kid if you like and she wants to see you toddle into Lickety Splits, her pushed-for-space sweetie shop in Jeffrey Street. Bairns welcomed, of course, but many of her customers are fortyish, unaccompanied by their offspring.
Says Naomi: “I reckon two-thirds of my stock has mouth-watering appeal for them. It’s obvious from their lingering stare into my shop windows.
“The window-gazers find it exceptionally colourful.” And Lickety juices keep flowing despite the recent anti-sugar joint declaration by pressurised superstores that have removed sweets from their check-outs where children, eyeing the craftily-displayed minor confectionery, tug at their mothers’ arms.
Adds Naomi: “As a mother myself I have to along with the supermarkets But not all the way. I strategically position my intensely-sweet jars on the top shelves.”
Naomi, a sculptor, has been six years in Jeffrey Street. Never short of enterprise. She had a stall in Middle Meadow Walk for several years. Today it’s not a one-woman show. She has a business partner, Matthew Simos.
Cattle do . .
Pull the udder one. A national newspaper is telling us, educating us, that a cow is happiest lying down. As if we didn’t know. Next they’ll be advising us that if a cow’s been munching too many Brussels sprouts for its dinner, stand well back if the wind’s blowing your way.
The paper heard it first from Devon and Cornwall farmers who been at a Cow Signals workshop. The cow whisperers.