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At the school gate
Forced to rest after having major surgery this month, I have watched every episode of Motherland on television. Have you seen it? This sitcom is so representative of school gate life that I can recognise most of the characters in it as though I were standing next to them yesterday. Yesterday being from 1984-1998 if I have the dates right. I knew the teachers well, I even took my youngest into the classroom aged eight months, for a study the seven year olds were doing on human development, at their teacher’s request. I helped with crafts and read to the children on special occasions, but only when time permitted. This…
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Stretching the Truth
Halloween and I have a strange relationship. All Hallow’s Eve falls on the day before my birthday. Last year, on a family get together in a Scottish faux castle, (the brochure had stretched the truth a little in declaring it an old Castle. It is a downsized replica of Warwick Castle, apparently,) my birthday was preceded by a big Halloween party. Who had the energy for another the following night? Mind you, it was an excellent party though I say so myself. My adult children had all surpassed themselves with their costumes/decorations and planning. Our grandchildren were only too happy to put on their costumes though the younger ones had…
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There is nowt so queer as folk
“What is that child doing?” This was the question we asked ourselves as we prepared to eat our long-awaited meal. The child in question was a girl of perhaps eight years of age. Prior to this point, she had been sitting with her large family, at the next table, chatting quite happily. What happened next was most bizarre. I should explain that Fowey was incredibly busy on Saturday night. We know one has to book a table if one wants to eat out in the holiday period. We had left it too late. Hence, at 7.30pm, we joined the other, “forgot-to-book” holidaymakers, shuffling along the busy streets in the vain…
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“Ooh Betty!”
My brother-in-law was a character indeed. When he left this world in November 2007, it became a poorer place without him. A devout born again Christian, he preached the gospel and prayed every day. Even in his darkest moments, when death beckoned, he believed he would be saved. I sincerely hope he was. His faith was strong but so was his sense of humour. He had learnt to laugh at himself because there really was no other way. Anyone who is familiar with Frank Crawford’s Frank Spencer from, “Some mothers do ‘ave em,” can easily imagine what Stuart looked like. He was the image of a young Michael Crawford in…
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Chipped, tagged, muzzled or crazed…it’s August!
If we are to believe what we read (and the jury is still out on that one) chip & pin will soon have a whole new meaning. On the local news this week, it was reported that a man has had a chip inserted in his hand that allows him to open doors by waving his hand in front of a sensor, among other things. I can only wonder what happens if the chip moves. I mean, the vet told me that the chip they put in dogs’ shoulders, often moves around the body and is hard to find when they come to scan it. The next time we see…
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Who’s wearing the salad dressing?
Due to the lack of photographic evidence, I shall attempt to draw you a picture of the scene when I arrived home from Sainsbury’s with the weekly shop, this morning. Picture, if you will, sitting amongst those, ‘bags for life,’on the table, 2 cool bags filled with goodies with which to restock the fridge. First of all, I should say, I am quite aware that the fridge does not need a total restock – it is, after all, still quite full of the weekend’s yet-to-be-eaten bits and bobs. We are low on milk but the milk shelf is still full, containing the two 4 pint bottles of skimmed and semi-skimmed,that…
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A Tale of Tails…
Flossie here, I thought I had seen the last of this contraption when I was a mere one-year-old pup! The Boss surely threw it away long ago. Hence, I felt quite safe when we went into the Vet’s waiting room, ready to have my tail looked at. A sore had appeared and despite my numerous lengthy licks, it had not got any better. I am sure it bothered the Boss more than it bothered me but I went along with her plans to have the Vet look at it anyway. I find it best to humour her. I got into the car without any trouble. I got out of the…
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Mothers, Dogs and Teeth…
The hospital car park is full. It is not just full, cars are double parked at every turn. We crawl round the multi-storey, us and others with the same hope of finding a vacant spot. As one, we form a shiny metal snake, slithering round the levels. Occasionally, one lucky person spots a vacant space and slides into it as another slides out. This happens perhaps three times in half an hour. The rest of us continue our slow descent to the exit. There are no spaces in the local roads, just double yellow lines and tantalizing permit bays. Steven and I explore the surrounding area to no avail. Other…
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Oh Brother…you have to love Tomato Sauce
I saw a video on Facebook today. Cleverly put together by The Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, in essence, it is about a family whose son admits, during a barbeque dinner, that he is in fact, a lover of tomato sauce. His Husband sits next to him, looking uncomfortable and nervous. His father is aghast and goes through the motions of looking disappointed, hurt and angry before leaving the table in an apparent rage, only to compose himself, return and hug the son and his husband. “A simple difference shouldn’t be a big deal, runs the slogan. I smiled at this video and applauded its deeper meaning before I…
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A Right Royal Coup…
All Because of…Princess Tina… Well, on the scale of things, this bit of news is unimportant but, to me, it is quite remarkable. A while ago, I wrote a post called, ‘All Because of Bunty’, believing that this esteemed comic had been responsible for securing me a Pen Friend in America, when I was eleven years old. Not so! Yesterday, my dear pen friend, Kate, with whom I have kept in touch for not quite 50 years, sent me a photograph of a piece of paper her siblings had unearthed in their mother’s house. Clearly, it is the scribbled submission I sent to the comic all those years ago. Looking…
