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Tuesday, April 9, 2013

THE DEATH OF THE GREATEST WOMAN OF THE 20TH CENTURY... AND PROBABLY EVEN THIS CENTURY


APRIL 9, 2013

The grocer’s daughter from Grantham, who lived above the shop yet aspired to great things, has passed away. But she will never be forgotten.

                Margaret Thatcher, who was made a baroness for her services to her country by the Queen, was the greatest peacetime Prime Minister of the 20th century. She was also the most powerful woman in the world during her reign at Number 10.

                And what a reign it was. When she became Prime Minister, Britain was at its lowest ebb, on the edge of a precipice, and in economic ruins. Certainly no longer considered a world power.

                She managed, through extraordinary intelligence, foresight, logic, brilliance, force of personality and self-belief to bring it back from the edge, and to safety and success. Such enormous success that she was adored  by her admirers, hated by those who didn't “get it,” and because they were envious and jealous of her amazing triumphs and popularity.

                She herself rose above all that nonsense, as she called it, and never lost sight of her goal: saving her beloved country and its everyday average people from disaster, bringing the land back to a prosperity it had not known for many years. She was able to do this because she had a true understanding of economics, the tyrannical unions and their domination, inefficient nationalized industries, and city councils. Blessed with a quantity of female practicality and common sense, she put that to good use. Most of all, she was a true visionary, saw the future and what Britain could become. Patriotic, humane, and compassionate, she came from the Middle Class and so understood the Middle Class, all of their problems, dreams, desires and needs.

                Eventually she made London the financial capital of the world because of the Big Bang. This was the name given to her deregulation of the City in 1986.

                She fought the idea of abandoning the pound sterling for the Euro, and won. How right she was, and we should be grateful to her for that foresight and her dogged insistence. She also fought the idea of a federal European State, and did not want Britain to become a member of the union. But nobody listened. Sadly.

                Maggie, as the populace loved to call her, brought Britain back to center stage. We loved her for it, and so did the rest of the world. She was a star… today they would call her a ROCK STAR! I rather think she was exactly that.

                Let’s not forget her closeness to President Ronald Reagan. She helped him to end the Cold War and bring down the Berlin Wall; and fought a war to keep the Falklands British and free of Argentinian control.

                It was a Russian journalist who called her “The Iron Lady,” a title she rather enjoyed. And in a way, I think she was tough, but in an elegant way. She was one of the most feminine women I have ever met. She loved clothes, shoes handbags and jewelry. I’ve always admired her for that, and for owning up to it. Power in a lovely dress… A Woman Of Substance indeed.

                She became Prime Minister in 1979, which was when my now-famous novel was published. We met through Irwin Bellow, who was chairman of Leeds City Council in charge of housing. He was brought in by Mrs. Thatcher to advise her about the selling of council houses to their tenants, not only in Leeds, but throughout the country. It was because of his help that she was eventually able to bring in a bill in Parliament enabling this to finally happen. He was her right-hand man in her endeavors, and she elevated him to the peerage for his hard work. He became Lord Bellwin.

                It was Irwin who arranged for Bob and I to go out to our first event at Number 10. It was an evening cocktail party given by Mrs. Thatcher for those in the Arts. Bob and I were thrilled to attend. I recall being at the end of a long reception room, talking to a small group of people, when I noticed I was facing an open door. I stepped to one side, and caught a glimpse of an oil painting of my great hero, Winston Churchill. Edging away from the group, I went and peeped around the door. This opened onto a small landing, and hanging over a downward-spiraling staircase was that huge portrait of the great man.

                Naturally, it was too tempting to resist. I stepped onto the landing, and went to get a better look at the portrait. A moment later I heard that inimitable voice, asking cordially, “Are you all right, Mrs. Bradford?”

                I swung around to face Margaret Thatcher. “I am, thank you, Prime Minister,” I said. “I was just standing here, thinking that as a little girl growing up I could never have imagined that one day I would come to Number 10 and stand here looking at the portrait of Winston Churchill.”

                “I know what you mean, Mrs. Bradford, neither did I,” she answered me with a twinkle in her eyes. As we walked back into the reception, she told me how much she had enjoyed my book, and I congratulated her on being the first woman to become Prime Minister.

                Like Winston Churchill, Margaret Thatcher saved Britain in the postwar years, just as Churchill had saved the country in the Second World War, not to mention the Western Civilization as well.

                Sir Winston had a State Funeral, and so should she. She certainly deserves it and should be honored in this way.

                What do you think? Please share your memories and comments with me.

Friday, March 8, 2013

In Marriage There Is No Love Without Respect


I just read the article in yesterday’s Daily Mail (UK) by British reality TV contestant, Katie Hopkins about her husband.  I laughed out loud when she wrote that everything I said in my recent Daily Mail feature about my formula for a long-lasting marriage was tosh!  First of all she doesn't know me and has never met me.   My friends will tell you that I am opinionated, outspoken and very independent.  I tell everyone what I think whether they like it or not, and that includes my husband Bob.   What I was explaining in the piece I wrote for the Daily Mail last Saturday was that I think that respect and good manners are terribly important in the most intimate relationship of all – a marriage.


If you are going to be nasty to each other, why stay married?  Katie Hopkins says she adores her husband.  So do I – adore Bob – and he deserves it.  He loves me, spoils me, protects me, defends me and manages my career.  And yes, he too can be difficult, argumentative, and somewhat bossy.  That’s why I call his Bismarck!  Nobody is perfect but I believe that being nice to people you love is tremendously important whether that is your husband, a relative or a friend.  I’m not sure what’s wrong with that although Katie Hopkins seems to think there is.  The world we live in today is worse than it has even been and dangerous.  It is also full of a lot of unkind, destructive, and anti-social people who make life miserable for everyone, especially their families.    It’s bad enough our there without creating unnecessary conflict in the home.  For the record, I don’t bite my tongue, I don’t creep around Bob, and I don’t keep the peace if I think it is necessary to say what I think.  And bringing ‘generation’ into it is a load of tosh! It’s nothing to do with how old you are, it’s to do with character.Barbara Taylor Bradford OBE


 Happily ever after: Barbara writes romantic novels, and her life with husband Bob perhaps mirrors some of these


Here is the article link in the Daily Mail by Katie Hopkins:

I love my husband - but respect him? Don't make me laugh!

Novelist Barbara Taylor Bradford said the key to marriage was admiring your husband. What tosh, says KATIE HOPKINShttp://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2289255/Katie-Hopkins-admits--I-love-husband--respect-Dont-make-laugh.html


And here is the link to my original article in the Daily Mail that Ms. Hopkins has referenced:
Novelist Barbara Taylor Bradford's secret for lasting love? Always let your husband win the rows!
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2286751/Novelist-Barbara-Taylor-Bradfords-secret-lasting-love-Always-let-husband-win-rows.html#ixzz2MyWXFb5K 

Double act: Barbara Taylor Bradford and husband Bob pictured in 1979: their love has continued to grow into old age
Have a look at both features and let me know which recipe to marital success you would choose.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

A Trio Of English Writers In A French Restaurant In New York




What a pleasant surprise I had last night! I just had to share it with you...
Bob and I were out at our favorite French Restaurant in Manhattan, Le Grenouille (3 East 52nd Street). No, this wasn't our romantic Valentine's Day dinner celebrated a day early. We were entertaining Kate Elton, the Director of Fiction at HarperCollins (UK). Kate had some business here in NYC and we decided to show her a nice evening, while chatting about the imminent UK launch of my new novel, Secrets From The Past (coming out Feb 28 in the UK and April 9 in North America).


We were about to bite into our entrees, when from the corner of my eye, I spotted my dear friend, the eternally glamorous Joan Collins, dining on the other side of the restaurant. And sitting opposite Joan, her equally beautifully and talented sister, Jackie. Next to Joan was her charming husband, Percy Gibson. Not wishing to disturb their dinner, we elected not to head over to their table. Not yet, anyway. Besides, the Collins sisters hadn't yet noticed us on our side of the large room. Instead, I decided to have a little fun. I grabbed a sheet of paper from my purse and jotted down these words:" How fascinating to have three bestselling English authors under one roof in New York City."  Jackie, of course, is the author of 28 NY Times Bestselling novels (incidentally the same number that I've penned). Joan is much better known for her legendary role on TV's iconic series, Dynasty. However, Bob and I had most recently seen her in London at a book party for her autobiography, which too was a worldwide bestseller.

I waited a few moments to grab the attention of our waiter. Then I folded the piece of paper and had him deliver it to Joan & Jackie at their table. And then I watched in anticipation for a reaction. I was not disappointed. Joan unfolded the note and appeared to read it aloud to Jackie. She then began to look around the room for the sender. It took a few moments, but alas she spotted me. A delicious grin overtook her face. Joan raised her hand and waved to me in acknowledgement, followed by Jackie, who raised a glass in our direction. Later, on the way out, we shared a good laugh about the whole coincidence. No doubt, our dinner guest, Kate, must have felt a little star struck. 


And speaking of Le Grenouille, for thise seeking more info about this great restaurnt, here's a link to thier website: http://la-grenouille.com/about.html
You just never know who you might run into there...

Happy Valentine's Day 2013


Tuesday, January 8, 2013

2012 - A Year In 'Omnishambles'



Barbara Taylor Bradford on those infuriating comments by ‘friends’


It may have been an ‘omnishambles’, says Barbara Taylor Bradford, but there was plenty to celebrate in 2012 – not least a skydiving Queen
(From "The Lady" Magazine)

It has been quite a year: successes and stars galore, and so much more. Not to mention savage weather and any number of disasters. There were scandals, and shameful and squalid secrets have been revealed. The BBC, mired in accusations about concealing the alleged sex crimes of Jimmy Savile, is in total denial. Meanwhile, a peer of the realm, wrongly accused, is suing everyone. Quite right. 

When I take a keener look at the last six months, I do see a great many villains and idols with clay feet. But then, suddenly, along come the true heroes, cheering each other as they hug gold, silver and bronze. The Olympians made us all smile with pride, instead of shudder in disgust. 

Then there was superstorm Sandy, battering the east coast of the US and causing death, heartache and sorrow, plus tens of billions of dollars in estimated losses and damage. The November floods across England were just as horrifying and heartrending. The worst catastrophe was the tiny, North Wales city of St Asaph, which literally disappeared underwater. Yet again, we have learnt that we are helpless when it comes to the weather – we can’t control it. Nor can we control people for that matter. 

Barbara Taylor Bradford

Undoubtedly, this has been an outlandish year. In fact, the Oxford English Dictionary has already coined a new word to describe 2012: omnishambles. 

But most of the events I remember best were truly spectacular and worthy of celebration: in June, the Diamond Jubilee. Whoever planned that spectacle should get a knighthood, a peerage, a duchy even. It was brilliant – but then we Brits do spectacle better than anyone else. 

The Queen and Prince Philip were magnificent, bright and sparkling, like the 100-carat diamonds they are. And how they managed to stand, smiling, for more than seven hours in the drizzle on the Royal barge, beggars belief. But what a thrilling sight the armada was, floating down the Thames. It reminded me of our great naval achievements and brought a poignant flash of memory of another armada… all those ships and pleasure cruisers, sail boats and yachts and barges, of all shapes and sizes, rushing across the English Channel to rescue our boys stranded on the beaches of Dunkirk in the Second World War. It was one of the greatest acts of bravery and it told the world who we are as a people. The Jubilee celebrations recaptured that spirit. 

Then there was Seb, who came running in, full of confidence and elan, with the Olympics tucked under his arm. He took my breath away. Despite all the mutterings of incompetence, the naysayers were proved wrong. The Olympics was a huge success. Our athletes showed us what they were made of… talent, power, guts and the determination to win. 

I watched the Olympics opening ceremony on a big TV screen, in a lounge, on a cruise ship. I know there were quite a few British people in the audience, because scattered around the room were people suddenly jumping up and standing to attention when the national anthem was played. My American husband, Bob, stood up, too. I choked up as I saw the story of Britain unfold in the production that followed. 

And then we got to see our Queen, acting alongside 007, Daniel Craig. What a thrill when she parachuted down into the Olympic stadium! Wild shouts and screams of amazement were heard around the room – although eventually we all realised that it wasn’t really Her Majesty jumping out of the plane. 

I never thought of an email as a deadly weapon, but a few anonymous messages, sent by a woman reservist in the US military to a Florida socialite, so-called, turned out to be lethal. Paula Broadwell’s emails warned Jill Kelley to stay away from ‘my guy’. They led a trail right to the doorstep of CIA director, General David Petraeus, a genuine war hero and a man of great bravery and stature. Eventually, the emails revealed an affair between Petraeus and Broadwell, his biographer. And so he resigned, which, in my view, is a great shame. 

I am so glad Nelson didn’t resign over his affair with Lady Hamilton. Then where would we have been? And what about General Eisenhower during the Second World War? He had a long affair with his driver, Kay Summersby, but he didn’t resign when the affair was discovered. He didn’t even blink. Instead, he went on to become US President. 

Talking of generals, most of the women I know are attracted to men in the military. It’s the uniform, of course. An impeccably tailored jacket, embellished with a blaze of medals, four silver stars on each shoulder, truly does give off the e ffluvium of power, machismo, command and heroism. Total aphrodisiacs to us of the fairer sex. 

But remove the uniform and the glory instantly fades. I was a young journalist in Fleet Street, and still single, when I met a general while working on a feature. He took a shine to me and relentlessly pursued me until I finally agreed to have dinner with him. He arrived to pick me up, but was no longer quite the same. Disappointingly, he had changed his uniform into ‘civvies’. The suit, he explained, was his ‘disguise’. But it wasn’t. What it did was reveal him to be, well, just another man. Suddenly, the glamour was gone. 

I am writing this column in Paris and not very far from my hotel is the Élysée Palace, where lives the president of France, François Hollande. As the EU faces crisis after crisis after crisis, his current mistress, Madame Trierweiler, and former, Madame Royal, are at war with each other. Royal, the mother of his four children, seems to be the favourite of the French at moment. Trierweiler, meanwhile, got black marks for causing trouble for Royal in her political campaign and was reportedly threatened with the sack by Paris Match, where she works as a journalist. 

So where does Monsieur le Président stand in all this? Who knows? Quelle omnishambles, indeed. 

And finally… it was great to learn that Great Britain has just been voted the most in”fluential nation in the world, by Monocle magazine’s Soft Power Survey. We have earned this top spot thanks to the Queen, the Olympics, our music and books and the millions of tourists who ”flock here. 

So Happy New Year to one and all. Let’s just hope it’s not another omnishambles.

Barbara Taylor Bradford’s new novel, Secrets From The Past, is published by HarperCollins on 28 February.

Monday, November 5, 2012

New York and Hurricane Sandy

ALERT
This excerpt is lifted from my column appearing in "The Lady" magazine -- November 9th Issue

NEW YORK

I am a Yorkshire girl, but life transported me to Manhattan, which is now my home. So I was stunned and terrified for our friends, loved ones and all my fellow New Yorkers when I saw the shocking footage of Hurricane Sandy sweeping over the city I love. I was traveling in Europe when Sandy struck, and I am told that my apartment (located in the mid 50s) has survived the deluge. But my heart goes out to everyone who has had to live through the disaster.

At last count, I hear it will cost $50 billion to repair the damage. But knowing New Yorkers the way I do, I know they will pull through. In fact, just like after 9/11, they will look to the future, rebuild their magnificent city - and doubtless emerge even stronger.

Barbara Taylor Bradford