I am in the bathroom, examining my laughter lines, I`ve read somewhere that super models use pile cream to shrink creases around the eyes, kind of gives a new meaning to the phrase "You`ve got a face like an arse". (Usually used to describe a grumpy person. Talking of which, G has plugged in his hair cutter and is shaving his head in the bathroom. D walking up the stairs, with a look of pure menace shouts
"Are you making a boiled egg?" G refrains from comment as his mobile has just sounded, (James Bond theme 007) He carries on his conversation in his room. D takes his chance to nip into the bathroom. When G comes back to resume his task, he sees D in the bathroom shaving his face and returns the previous insult. "Are you making a full moon or a half moon?" then laughs.
Feeling very sleepy.....I resent being woken up at 6.30 a.m. on a weekend. D tells me that he can`t sleep in past the usual time that he gets up for work...Fine, but get dressed quietly...don`t bounce on the bed to put on your socks, then bounce again to put on shoes!!! He`s very much a creature of habits. Friend IW tells me that if he woke her at that hour on a day off, he would be stabbed. So he`d better watch out, I may take a leaf from Sharon Stone`s book and keep an ice pick under the bed.
I board the bus to take me into town to meet friends NH and DK. There is a very plump woman holding onto the hand grip above,she`s around 35, she has her hair pulled together on top with a band, it spikes out like pineapple stalks, Pebbles fashion (the baby from the Flintstones) She is wearing a pink sparkly crop top with a very tight, short denim jacket, her jeans are hipster, and she sports a very large coined belt. Her stomachwobbles around at the movement of the bus, and I am fascinated by the tattoo around her belly button, it disappears then resurfaces among the rolls as she sways. She is having a conversation with her mother who is seated.
Mother "Her washer`s bust."
Pebbles "No...what will she do Mam?"
M "She`ll have to get it fixed."
P(With her mouth full of Monster Munch) "That`ll cost her."
In town, I pass Grey`s Monument,(The soapbox area of Newcastle) A group of evangelists are Telling us all how to improve our lives, I`d love to shout "Yeah, if you all get a job we`ll save on our taxes." but i refrain. My memory wanders back to my childhood pal, SD, who introduced me to her local mission hall, we were around eight years old. She explained that they sang a little song;
Will you come to the mission
will you come?
Bring your own cup of tea
and a bun.
S was in training to win a free bible, I was tempted by the "free" part, all she had to do was recite all of the titles of the books of the bible. I began in earnest, and we spent time rabitting to eachother Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges Ruth, 1st,2nd Samuel, 1st,2nd Kings. I got fed up and didn`t get any further, so guess who didn`t get a bible? One of my brother`s favourite sayings is:
If you always do what you`ve always done,
You`ll always get what you`ve always got.
But the failed bible trial has never bothered me, in fact I can still impress folk by my tale of my brush with brainwashing.
And anyway, my favourite is
You can either run with the big dogs,
Or sit on the porch and bark.
I prefer to bark, thanks very much.
We meet for coffee at Art Cafe, NH is looking through the Lady magazine on the singles page, and reads out "Sensual male, seeks sensual female for sensual activities." DK observes "Sounds like dirty old man seeks dirty old woman for sex."
NH has been to M&S to buy a scarf, she has with her two carrier bags from previous shops she had bought from,one from Oil and Vinegar which advertises "Feel the Passion" and the other from Virgin megastore, she puts the scarf down on the cash desk with the bags. The assistant smirks "That`s a bit of a contradiction."
I tell them about my gift of chocolates from my daughter-in-law B.
Y "They were lovely,they were made by Harry Ramsden."
DK "I thought that they only made fish and chips?"
Y "Oh,..yes..I mean Gordon Ramsay."
(And so, another senior moment to add to the ever growing collection.)
Saturday, 31 March 2007
Sunday, 25 March 2007
Haute Cuisine
D gets out of bed and looks out of the window, singing to himself "All through the winter time, he hid himself away, la la la..." He gets to the bathroom first, then goes downstairs to start the breakfast, I can hear him pulling the pan on the bottom shelf from under the smaller ones, he never takes them out one at a time and so they all fall on the floor. I get up to go to the bathroom.
As we sit down to eat,I notice that my egg yolk is broken and he has an unbroken egg ( So I deduce that I would not be given his last Rollo) D pulls each side of my face and states "I could give you a nip tuck, here and here." Well..that`s done wonders for my self esteem!! G walks in and D pipes up before sonny boy has the chance "Hey, G, when you go for a drive in your new car with the roof down you won`t have to worry about your hair."
I have just caught my husband putting hot cauliflower into polythene bags intended for the freezer. I ask him not to do this as we could all catch typhoid. He quips back "Well there`s no chance of us catching that if it`s left up to you because you never make the dinner." I had cleared everything from the work surfaces, the idea being that we would have more space to cook. Where is he peeling onions....? on a plate on the draining board, positioning himself in front of the dishwasher and halfway over the sink. He mutters that I am in the way when I try to fill the kettle.
Loving son walks through drinking from a bottle of fresh orange and sings to the tune of I`m Just a Love Machine by Girls Aloud :-
I`m just a fat machine,
Eating all that is seen,
Look at my double chin,
There`s no way I`ll be thin.
G goes out and D works in the garden, i set to with the ironing, and because i have left it for so long, the mound looks like the north face of Everest. So, I will be manacled to the ironing board for the rest of the morning. As I look out onto the garden through the patio door, the robin and blackbirds are chirruping. I witness D sit down on one of the green metal chairs from our garden set to repair the strimmer, the leg snaps and he almost hits the ground. I can sense another trip to the tip.
As we sit down to eat,I notice that my egg yolk is broken and he has an unbroken egg ( So I deduce that I would not be given his last Rollo) D pulls each side of my face and states "I could give you a nip tuck, here and here." Well..that`s done wonders for my self esteem!! G walks in and D pipes up before sonny boy has the chance "Hey, G, when you go for a drive in your new car with the roof down you won`t have to worry about your hair."
I have just caught my husband putting hot cauliflower into polythene bags intended for the freezer. I ask him not to do this as we could all catch typhoid. He quips back "Well there`s no chance of us catching that if it`s left up to you because you never make the dinner." I had cleared everything from the work surfaces, the idea being that we would have more space to cook. Where is he peeling onions....? on a plate on the draining board, positioning himself in front of the dishwasher and halfway over the sink. He mutters that I am in the way when I try to fill the kettle.
Loving son walks through drinking from a bottle of fresh orange and sings to the tune of I`m Just a Love Machine by Girls Aloud :-
I`m just a fat machine,
Eating all that is seen,
Look at my double chin,
There`s no way I`ll be thin.
G goes out and D works in the garden, i set to with the ironing, and because i have left it for so long, the mound looks like the north face of Everest. So, I will be manacled to the ironing board for the rest of the morning. As I look out onto the garden through the patio door, the robin and blackbirds are chirruping. I witness D sit down on one of the green metal chairs from our garden set to repair the strimmer, the leg snaps and he almost hits the ground. I can sense another trip to the tip.
Saturday, 24 March 2007
Spooky Goings On
By way of information obtained from another Genes Reunited member C, I have discovered that my husband`s ancestors are buried in the grounds of the 11th century church in Newcastle upon Tyne. On a very cold wet day I decided to cut through the graveyard on my way into town. I glanced left and right at all of the stones on either side of the path, there were Trelawney`s, Griffith`s, Atkinson`s and Ellison`s. Some of the incriptions were delightful!!!!!! He whose form lies mouldering here below (shudder)
I noticed a table top kind of style memorial, but couldn`t quite read the text, so i stepped onto the earth, which was covered in old leaves, as i made my way around the side of it, i fell into a hole. My God, i thought I was heading for the crypt, I scrambeld out, my heart beating like a drum, and had a quick look around, nobody there, If I had made a descent, who would have known, I had visions of toothless skulls glaring at me. I hurried on down the path, determined to hightail it out of there, when I noticed a man walking out of the church in shirtsleeves. I asked him if he knew anything of the history of the church and who was buried there. He said that he had a record which was compiled by one of the past Bishop`s, and invited me into the vestry, I asked if he was the Verger, to which he replied "That`s just a posh name for a caretaker." (I liked him already)
We passed two tramps who were having a kip (Sleep) in the pews. He said "Hoy lads, get up, you`ll have me shot." He explained that there was no harm in them, he made them a cup of tea.
He kindly photocopied 5 pages of burial records and among them were many Young`s which also held dates of birth etc, lots of good information. I admitted that I had lived in Newcastle all my life and was ashamed to say that I had never stepped inside the building, he offered to give me a tour. I found out that the hole I had fallen into was a recently discovered grave of a glass engraver named Ralph Beiby, he had once owned a shop on Amen corner in the town. The grave had been a flat slab kind, and through the years had sunken into the earth. Because it had filled up with old leaves, I was unable to see it.
He explained that the area clear of stones had been a mass burial place for so called witches and wizards "When it`s been raining heavily, bones come to the surface....oh look, a tooth!" (Enough.... guess who was not going to sleep that night?") There poking out of the ground was a very large molar staring at us, further along he pointed out a ball joint standing upright. Inside the church once more we made our way to the front near one of the altar`s, lots of inscriptions were carved into the floor. Apparently, Adam Deathol was buried in a vault just in front of the altar, the words were becoming very worn, so they put a rug over it to protect it. A medium had visited the church and the first thing she said was "There`s someone covered up in here and he doesn`t like it." The vicar had the rug removed. I was also told of the policeman who regularly comes into the church to sit near the altar, he reported that something had grabbed his leg. As we stood there, a string which held messages pinned on with pegs started to whizz around, nobody had opened a door, we moved off.
The caretaker remarked that he could have let me take a look in the tower, but one of the tramps must have took a shit in there, so he couldn`t. By this time, with all the spooky reportings, I think that I would have declined his offer anyway, as it was, it was going to take some time for me to get over my near brush with middle earth.
This very interesting man, full of information, showed me out again, we passed the vicar`s car, must be a fun kind of guy, the registration was REV 1.
When i returned home, i was interested to find out about Beilby, he had apprenticed Thomas Bewick the engraver and also made the glass for Grandfather clocks. I wondered if my husband`s family had dealt with him, they were jewellers in the town and had crafted Grandfather clocks with shepherd and shepherdess scenes. Isn`t it curious, my friend`s daughter`s wedding was held at Close House, where Bewick had once lived. I suppose that the town was so small then that everyone would have passed eachother at some point, now we would be most likely to pass people at a Starbucks, Macdonald`s or Pizza Hut, what would our ancestor`s have thought of that?
I noticed a table top kind of style memorial, but couldn`t quite read the text, so i stepped onto the earth, which was covered in old leaves, as i made my way around the side of it, i fell into a hole. My God, i thought I was heading for the crypt, I scrambeld out, my heart beating like a drum, and had a quick look around, nobody there, If I had made a descent, who would have known, I had visions of toothless skulls glaring at me. I hurried on down the path, determined to hightail it out of there, when I noticed a man walking out of the church in shirtsleeves. I asked him if he knew anything of the history of the church and who was buried there. He said that he had a record which was compiled by one of the past Bishop`s, and invited me into the vestry, I asked if he was the Verger, to which he replied "That`s just a posh name for a caretaker." (I liked him already)
We passed two tramps who were having a kip (Sleep) in the pews. He said "Hoy lads, get up, you`ll have me shot." He explained that there was no harm in them, he made them a cup of tea.
He kindly photocopied 5 pages of burial records and among them were many Young`s which also held dates of birth etc, lots of good information. I admitted that I had lived in Newcastle all my life and was ashamed to say that I had never stepped inside the building, he offered to give me a tour. I found out that the hole I had fallen into was a recently discovered grave of a glass engraver named Ralph Beiby, he had once owned a shop on Amen corner in the town. The grave had been a flat slab kind, and through the years had sunken into the earth. Because it had filled up with old leaves, I was unable to see it.
He explained that the area clear of stones had been a mass burial place for so called witches and wizards "When it`s been raining heavily, bones come to the surface....oh look, a tooth!" (Enough.... guess who was not going to sleep that night?") There poking out of the ground was a very large molar staring at us, further along he pointed out a ball joint standing upright. Inside the church once more we made our way to the front near one of the altar`s, lots of inscriptions were carved into the floor. Apparently, Adam Deathol was buried in a vault just in front of the altar, the words were becoming very worn, so they put a rug over it to protect it. A medium had visited the church and the first thing she said was "There`s someone covered up in here and he doesn`t like it." The vicar had the rug removed. I was also told of the policeman who regularly comes into the church to sit near the altar, he reported that something had grabbed his leg. As we stood there, a string which held messages pinned on with pegs started to whizz around, nobody had opened a door, we moved off.
The caretaker remarked that he could have let me take a look in the tower, but one of the tramps must have took a shit in there, so he couldn`t. By this time, with all the spooky reportings, I think that I would have declined his offer anyway, as it was, it was going to take some time for me to get over my near brush with middle earth.
This very interesting man, full of information, showed me out again, we passed the vicar`s car, must be a fun kind of guy, the registration was REV 1.
When i returned home, i was interested to find out about Beilby, he had apprenticed Thomas Bewick the engraver and also made the glass for Grandfather clocks. I wondered if my husband`s family had dealt with him, they were jewellers in the town and had crafted Grandfather clocks with shepherd and shepherdess scenes. Isn`t it curious, my friend`s daughter`s wedding was held at Close House, where Bewick had once lived. I suppose that the town was so small then that everyone would have passed eachother at some point, now we would be most likely to pass people at a Starbucks, Macdonald`s or Pizza Hut, what would our ancestor`s have thought of that?
Monday, 19 March 2007
Peace at Last (But not for long)
My son G has removed himself to the Lake District to his friend`s boat. There are no unpleasantries,calm and order reign in the house. No Stargate on T.V. ( I don`t know if that is a good thing...my husband is watching Sinbad the Sailor) He needs something to cheer him up, poor soul, my brother has just purchased a new Mini Cooper S and he has offered to take D on a trip down to the tip.
Brother DL and sister in law A have been doing home improvements. They have had new carpets fitted throughout, all the same colour, fabulous. Their old carpet is in very good condition, so we take it home with us. D threatens to fit the carpet himself, i know from his past attempts at "patchwork quilt style fitting" so i warn him not to go there. He takes not a blind bit of notice and I catch him on the stairs pressing it into place. When i tackle him on this he replies "Just to see what it looks like." I warn him that I will never speak to him again if he spoils it, he tells me to "Shut up." We have a full scale arguement, the neighbours will love this, as their sitting room is directly against this wall. I tell him to go ahead, but I will hold him responsible if he makes an arse of it, and that my eye will be drawn to the patches every time i walk over them. Huffily, he pulls his handiwork up and rumples the carpet under his arm. he stuffs it in the corner of the hallway, and proceeds to stomp away "Put it back where you got it from!!!" I bellow, and am gobsmacked that he picks it up and puts it back in the garage. I ring the carpet fitter and he arranges to arrive at 11.00 on Wednesday (wait till he gets a load of our patchy underlay covered in paint splodges)
We call around to my brother`s house, everything is newly painted, smelling fresh and clean, the new carpet and furnishings are fabulous. My brother is working on his laptop, there`s a square net looking thing on there. I ask if it`s going to be a room, he answers "No, it`s a generic plain for my basic android pieces, I`m having them walking down a corridor." (What?") He makes it simple for me by showing me an animated man who is trying to reach for a handle of a door. He explains that he hasn`t got the hand synced up to grasp the handle yet.
We go to Blyth Market to buy a new dog bed and wild bird seeds. D talks all the way there about DL`s new car, wonders where he is with it now, that he`s having leather seats fitted, that it has a sports button which "transforms the car`s performance", that it has Rostyle wheels and new mats on the floor. I am beginning to wish that our car has an ejector seat. At the Market, D buys himself a set of combination spanners and a packet of Brazil nuts to console himself. I buy some yoghurt coated raisins, I suspect that they are loaded with calories, but hey, what the hell, I missed the deadline of Monday for my diet, there`s always next week.
My youngest son P and his wife B are home again this weekend for D`s birthday, they have an apple mac i-pod shuffle for him which is about the size of a stamp. But B has downloaded a page from National Geographic and has customised it to say "A year`s membership of magazines for D`s birthday" can`t wait to see his face when he opens it. That`ll teach him for trying to fit the carpet.
Come back G, all is forgiven!!
Brother DL and sister in law A have been doing home improvements. They have had new carpets fitted throughout, all the same colour, fabulous. Their old carpet is in very good condition, so we take it home with us. D threatens to fit the carpet himself, i know from his past attempts at "patchwork quilt style fitting" so i warn him not to go there. He takes not a blind bit of notice and I catch him on the stairs pressing it into place. When i tackle him on this he replies "Just to see what it looks like." I warn him that I will never speak to him again if he spoils it, he tells me to "Shut up." We have a full scale arguement, the neighbours will love this, as their sitting room is directly against this wall. I tell him to go ahead, but I will hold him responsible if he makes an arse of it, and that my eye will be drawn to the patches every time i walk over them. Huffily, he pulls his handiwork up and rumples the carpet under his arm. he stuffs it in the corner of the hallway, and proceeds to stomp away "Put it back where you got it from!!!" I bellow, and am gobsmacked that he picks it up and puts it back in the garage. I ring the carpet fitter and he arranges to arrive at 11.00 on Wednesday (wait till he gets a load of our patchy underlay covered in paint splodges)
We call around to my brother`s house, everything is newly painted, smelling fresh and clean, the new carpet and furnishings are fabulous. My brother is working on his laptop, there`s a square net looking thing on there. I ask if it`s going to be a room, he answers "No, it`s a generic plain for my basic android pieces, I`m having them walking down a corridor." (What?") He makes it simple for me by showing me an animated man who is trying to reach for a handle of a door. He explains that he hasn`t got the hand synced up to grasp the handle yet.
We go to Blyth Market to buy a new dog bed and wild bird seeds. D talks all the way there about DL`s new car, wonders where he is with it now, that he`s having leather seats fitted, that it has a sports button which "transforms the car`s performance", that it has Rostyle wheels and new mats on the floor. I am beginning to wish that our car has an ejector seat. At the Market, D buys himself a set of combination spanners and a packet of Brazil nuts to console himself. I buy some yoghurt coated raisins, I suspect that they are loaded with calories, but hey, what the hell, I missed the deadline of Monday for my diet, there`s always next week.
My youngest son P and his wife B are home again this weekend for D`s birthday, they have an apple mac i-pod shuffle for him which is about the size of a stamp. But B has downloaded a page from National Geographic and has customised it to say "A year`s membership of magazines for D`s birthday" can`t wait to see his face when he opens it. That`ll teach him for trying to fit the carpet.
Come back G, all is forgiven!!
Thursday, 15 March 2007
Passwords
I have a password for my e mails, for Genes Reunited, for Ancestry.com and now for my Blogger. I can`t cope, I key in the wrong passwords for all of the sites and am receiving new password e mails..... I am reminded ......I should write them down, but if you could see my note pads! Enough is enough, time to spend some time on chucking out,the theory being.. tidy house, tidy mind, but then I have carrier bags strewn all over the floor, one for work, one to transport things to the bathroom,bedroom, crafts cupboard, wherever, one for rubbish, one for things that "we could sell at a car boot sale" one for the garage. Help, I`m a hoarder, I need thereapy.
G arrives in from work to witness his father in customary pose on the sofa with t.v. controls in his hand.
G (Sings to tune of Beatles Nowhere Man)
He`s a real piggy man
Living in his piggy land
Making all his piggy plans
For nobody (Laughs)
D Hi there slap head
G Tubsy Malone
D Yeah, but Tubsy Malone who`s got the t.v. controls
As G always watches Stargate when he gets home, there`s the usual tussle, then D gives in and comes through to the kitchen to "help" me with the meal. He turns up all of the controls, sauces splatter over the neighbouring pans and all over the surface of the oven. it`s a chisel job by the time he`s finished. He makes a cuppa for us, he has filled the spoon with sugar and carried it over to the other end of the bench to put it into the cup, left a snail trail of sugar, which pebble dashes that surface also, later on when he pours a glass of wine, the cork, seal and bottle opener will be left also. Why don`t I just go and sprinkle porridge oats all over the carpet and crack a few eggs in there for good measure.
G is always complaining that D opens his letters, calls him nosy. D answers that he only opens them in case it`s something important that he might need to ring G immediatley (Yeah) There is a parcel on the stool, already opened, but slightly ajar, it has G`s name and address on the top. D circles around it a couple of times, and then , says "I wonder what it is?" I`m tempted to say that I haven`t got xray eyes. Then it`s between him and his wits, he opens it up. It`s empty, apart from a sheet of computer paper which reads "Nosy fat bastard or specky cow or both, stop looking at things that are nothing to do with you!!!!!!!" I object strongly to this.......
I`m not in the least interested in anything in his post.
Found an old book during my chuck out, Janet and John, how middle class they were, and the stories were so boring, I wonder how we ever learned to read at all. The drawings show well scrubbed typically English children with mops of hair, Enid Blyton style. it was printed in 1949.
"I walked and I walked and what did I see?
I saw a little puppy and he saw me.
Little puppy ran. He ran to me.
There was also a green candle in the shape of a bottle with Happy 2000 on the front, where does all this crap come from?
As D monopolises the t.v. controls all night and watches back to back Emmerdale, Coronation Street and The Bill, (My friend Irene renames these programmes Ennemadale,Constipation Street and The Pill) I wait until he falls asleep, then remove them from under his stomach just as he breathes in. I sit down with my well earned Vodka, and there`s a programme on the History channel about Queen Victoria. Apparently, she loved sex, but not the results. She had 8 children, she asked her doctor what could be done. He knew about condoms, but couldn`t tell her, they were made of sheeps bladders, and had to be tied on with a bow (As if the male anatomy wasn`t ridiculous enough) Condoms were only intended to protect the male against venereal disease.
I am really worried now, I have lived in this house for over 30 years, we have always had a sliding patio door, I have just tried to pull it open like a regular door to let the dog out. Maybe when I have this massive chuck out, I may improve my memory, or is this what menopause is all about?
G arrives in from work to witness his father in customary pose on the sofa with t.v. controls in his hand.
G (Sings to tune of Beatles Nowhere Man)
He`s a real piggy man
Living in his piggy land
Making all his piggy plans
For nobody (Laughs)
D Hi there slap head
G Tubsy Malone
D Yeah, but Tubsy Malone who`s got the t.v. controls
As G always watches Stargate when he gets home, there`s the usual tussle, then D gives in and comes through to the kitchen to "help" me with the meal. He turns up all of the controls, sauces splatter over the neighbouring pans and all over the surface of the oven. it`s a chisel job by the time he`s finished. He makes a cuppa for us, he has filled the spoon with sugar and carried it over to the other end of the bench to put it into the cup, left a snail trail of sugar, which pebble dashes that surface also, later on when he pours a glass of wine, the cork, seal and bottle opener will be left also. Why don`t I just go and sprinkle porridge oats all over the carpet and crack a few eggs in there for good measure.
G is always complaining that D opens his letters, calls him nosy. D answers that he only opens them in case it`s something important that he might need to ring G immediatley (Yeah) There is a parcel on the stool, already opened, but slightly ajar, it has G`s name and address on the top. D circles around it a couple of times, and then , says "I wonder what it is?" I`m tempted to say that I haven`t got xray eyes. Then it`s between him and his wits, he opens it up. It`s empty, apart from a sheet of computer paper which reads "Nosy fat bastard or specky cow or both, stop looking at things that are nothing to do with you!!!!!!!" I object strongly to this.......
I`m not in the least interested in anything in his post.
Found an old book during my chuck out, Janet and John, how middle class they were, and the stories were so boring, I wonder how we ever learned to read at all. The drawings show well scrubbed typically English children with mops of hair, Enid Blyton style. it was printed in 1949.
"I walked and I walked and what did I see?
I saw a little puppy and he saw me.
Little puppy ran. He ran to me.
There was also a green candle in the shape of a bottle with Happy 2000 on the front, where does all this crap come from?
As D monopolises the t.v. controls all night and watches back to back Emmerdale, Coronation Street and The Bill, (My friend Irene renames these programmes Ennemadale,Constipation Street and The Pill) I wait until he falls asleep, then remove them from under his stomach just as he breathes in. I sit down with my well earned Vodka, and there`s a programme on the History channel about Queen Victoria. Apparently, she loved sex, but not the results. She had 8 children, she asked her doctor what could be done. He knew about condoms, but couldn`t tell her, they were made of sheeps bladders, and had to be tied on with a bow (As if the male anatomy wasn`t ridiculous enough) Condoms were only intended to protect the male against venereal disease.
I am really worried now, I have lived in this house for over 30 years, we have always had a sliding patio door, I have just tried to pull it open like a regular door to let the dog out. Maybe when I have this massive chuck out, I may improve my memory, or is this what menopause is all about?
Tuesday, 13 March 2007
Searching for keys
On my way out to town this morning, looked for my door keys. Not in my handbag, pocket, purse, not in the bedroom, bathroom or on the stairs. checked both the back and front door locks, then looked in all of the afore mentioned places again, bugger I`m going to miss the bus. (Fortunate that there wasn`t a fire) Found them on the kitchen drainer and was late for the bus.
Pensioners at the stop at 9.15 all frightened to get on the next bus because "It`s not 9.30 yet."
I really can`t see the problem, everyone has long since left for work, the bus turns up with about half a dozen people on board, and there`s a queue half a mile long waiting for "The next one" I suppose they don`t want to be labelled as Twirlys (Am I too early) What I really can`t stand is the bus driver who watches obvious 80/90 year olds struggle to board, then insists on the pass being shown, by the poor old sods as they rifle through their pockets. I strike up a conversation with one old fella, he confides that since he aquired his free bus pass he has put all of his busfares in a jar and now has amassed £400. I buy a £2.90 day pass and leave them all behind.
I meet my friend Dorothy for coffee in our usual Laboca Art Cafe, it`s our favourite place, we love the owner, he sometimes insults us for our dithering. I had ordered the coffees and sat back down, we were engrossed in our conversation, then we both sat bolt upright as he shouted at the top of his voice "PROSTITUTE" we stared at him, our eyebrows up in our hairline. "There, got your attention that time, I`ve asked three times if you want milk" Fabulous.
After tea David and I set to painting the stairs, our son is conspicuous by his absence. My husband has taken off his shirt and trousers and is sitting on the sofa in his shorts. Our beloved well mannered son walks through the sitting room on his way upstairs and comments "Who let Jabba the Hutt in here?" then laughs at his own joke. David tells him to piss off.
And another happy day in the Young`s household. My keys will be put on the key holder tonight, and I`m having a long lie in tomorrow.
Pensioners at the stop at 9.15 all frightened to get on the next bus because "It`s not 9.30 yet."
I really can`t see the problem, everyone has long since left for work, the bus turns up with about half a dozen people on board, and there`s a queue half a mile long waiting for "The next one" I suppose they don`t want to be labelled as Twirlys (Am I too early) What I really can`t stand is the bus driver who watches obvious 80/90 year olds struggle to board, then insists on the pass being shown, by the poor old sods as they rifle through their pockets. I strike up a conversation with one old fella, he confides that since he aquired his free bus pass he has put all of his busfares in a jar and now has amassed £400. I buy a £2.90 day pass and leave them all behind.
I meet my friend Dorothy for coffee in our usual Laboca Art Cafe, it`s our favourite place, we love the owner, he sometimes insults us for our dithering. I had ordered the coffees and sat back down, we were engrossed in our conversation, then we both sat bolt upright as he shouted at the top of his voice "PROSTITUTE" we stared at him, our eyebrows up in our hairline. "There, got your attention that time, I`ve asked three times if you want milk" Fabulous.
After tea David and I set to painting the stairs, our son is conspicuous by his absence. My husband has taken off his shirt and trousers and is sitting on the sofa in his shorts. Our beloved well mannered son walks through the sitting room on his way upstairs and comments "Who let Jabba the Hutt in here?" then laughs at his own joke. David tells him to piss off.
And another happy day in the Young`s household. My keys will be put on the key holder tonight, and I`m having a long lie in tomorrow.
Monday, 12 March 2007
Another day, another diet
Out for a meal, i ate prawn cocktail, hunters chicken and a creme brulee, what a combination, it did quell some pangs of guilt to notice a side salad on the plate, but then again this was Saturday and i had promised to cut down on Monday. Anyway, my daughter in law Bobbi does a mean breakfast, she part cooks the sausage and bacon, then adds the eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes so that it makes a well held together circle of fabulous fry up. We eat it with toast and a tasty chilli sauce (made by Bobbi`s mother Sonia)
Paul and Bobbi were out with their friends for a birthday party in town, they got back about 3.00, but i was already awake since 2.30. They crept very quietly in, but i still lay there for another half an hour, with no hope of sleep. This is where the compulsive obsessive part comes in. I recently joined both Genes Reunited and Ancestry.com. I have found the subject of geneology like knitting a jumper, I can`t wait to complete the next line, only I don`t knit, but you get the picture.
I once made an attempt at knitting a jumper for my husband when we were engaged to be married, it was dark plum and had more holes than my granny`s lace curtains, and when i reached the neck it stood bolt upright like a fisherman`s smock. He dutifully wore it when we joined his mother for a coffee. She stared at him wearing my creation, and then asked "David, would you like me to borrow the pattern from Yvonne, but I`ll finish the neck off in the way I knit your father`s jumpers." As I smirked at this remark, David turned to me and said "What are you laughing at?" I was forced to lie and muttered something about a comical incident at work.
He`s never changed, still putting his foot in it, but only nowadays, his comments are intentional to wind everyone up like clockwork dolls. My eldest son is still living at home, the pair of them thoroughly enjoy insulting eachother at every opportunity. My husband is, how shall I say, of portly appearance, and my son...is slim, fashion conscious and has a receding hairline, which he remedies by shaving it all off. They have both not yet moved past the age of 12. The conversations go on like this.
G "Morning tubs"
D "Morning baldy"
G (sings) "Tinky Winky,Dave Young, La La, Po"
D (Smooths own hair in a mincing fashion and sings) "Gilette, the best a man can get......why don`t you grow your hair back in?"
G "I will when I find a cure for baldness"
One of them supports Newcastle and the other Arsenal. The rivalry begins when the matches coincide on TV. G used to take the sky card round to a friend`s house to use it on the sport`s channel, but we don`t have that trouble now as he prefers to watch at the pub. Small mercies.
My husband is stamping on the floor, it is 2.00am. spoilsport.
Saturday, 10 March 2007
Warning Signs
Being of a certain age myself, i have begun to notice, not only the "top of the stairs" phenonmena creeping in,(Getting to the top and forgetting why I am there) but also the hoarding of too tight clothes, in the hope that i will some day get into them. Last week i attended the wedding of a friend`s daughter, the dress and blouse style suit which i picked out from between a crammed full wardrobe of old tat, was groaning between the buttons. i sewed a plastic popper between each button. As i could only manage to pull the zip of the skirt up halfway, i used the loop which is used to hang the item up with, sewed it to the other side and hoped that i would not have to be taken to hospital that day. Or that i would not become too drunk so that i wouldn`t remember how to cut myself out of it afterwards. At the wedding, the usual slinky young ladies were milling around looking gorgeous,I was tempted to take a photo of one of them, pin it to the fridge door. And so another diet was planned to "Start on Monday." I showed my husband my first attempt at Blogging, after reading it, no mention of praise, or any discussion on my literary adventures, he simply commented "You haven`t got any old tat, only new tat that you haven`t worn."
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