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I heard about these blogs and wondered why people would want to air their dirty laundry online. But I feel safe on this site so maybe it's worth a try. We'll see. This blog is complete. Please find my new blog from the link below...
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I've just finished reading the latest Blogville News and as always, thoroughly enjoyed every word of it. Not only does David McClain   do a great job in putting it together, but those who contribute never fail to amaze me with their outstanding talent. So, if you haven't read it, rush over now to "Invalid Item"  . I'm useless with these links and won't know if that's worked or not until I finish this entry, but if it hasn't then just go find the BLOGVILLE NEWS.You know, human nature and behaviour has always fascinated me and if I lived to be five hundred, I know I'd still enjoy people watching and making observations on how we act, react and interact. I would have loved to have studied psychology at school, but in those far off days it wasn't an option. But I digress...oh look a chicken. The differences between personalities and characteristics is so diverse I doubt whether anyone could ever explain completely the reasons why, but every day there are examples. In the Newsletter Voxxylady  writes most eloquently about how some people like to dash to their destination and probably through life too, while others prefer a leisurely stroll. ccstring tackles in his own inimitable style the differences in conduct and attitude towards the passing of wind. Bless him for always putting a smile on our faces. There have been many studies and arguments about whether our behaviour is 'nature or nurture,' and I'm not qualified enough to judge and don't want to go down that road. There's obviously a chicken on it so I better move on. Differences in nature and personality affect our lives daily. For instance, when is your lowest period of the day? For me, it's without a doubt first thing in the morning - always has been and always will be. Worries and dark thoughts swirl round my brain when I wake and it takes a few cuppas and some quiet reading before any improvement is seen. Don't worry, I get better as the day wears on and generally by midnight I can be a crazy party animal, as some of you may have observed.  Hubby on the other hand seems to have his worst patch late at night. Instead of admitting it and going to bed, he'll frequently get annoyed and irritated by things and have a pop at me. Especially after a few drinks. Now, there's another question. What effect does alcohol have on you? Some claim our true nature emerges when drink loosens our inhibitions but I'm not sure how true that is either. I tend to get soppy, mushy, wub everybody, then fall asleep, so maybe that's all the proof I need. lol Oh...another chicken. Anyway, when hubby starts on a rant late at night, I've never really found a way of dealing with it, or even better preventing it from happening in the first place. I'm not one for taking the bait when provoked and prefer a peaceful solution. Thereby hangs another question. What makes some people very aggressive? Is it just in their nature, has life made them that way or is it a simple matter of hormones? Whatever, if it is down to testosterone then I must have been at the back of the queue when they handed it out, as although I can get angry, I rarely retaliate. Experience has taught me that in conflict, I'll generally be the one who walks away upset and hurt, regardless of whether I'm right or wrong. Apologies for all these chickens. Anyway, I will get to the point eventually if you haven't already fallen asleep. I know I'm not much good in the mornings and people tend to leave me alone then until I come round. Hubby does realise he can be obnoxious at night and is generally apologetic the next day. The time in between we're reasonably amicable. But last night we decided to put a plan of action into place to see if it will lessen the evening bouts of unpleasantness. We eat out twice a week at a pub close to the gym as it's convenient, cheap and cheerful. Can't resist another question here about differences. What sort of eater are you? My son likes to eat his food in order of preference so he saves what he likes best on his plate until last. Hubby likes a bit of everything on his fork so each mouthful consists of a bit of meat, potato and veg, I tend to take a turn at each item in an organised fashion. Unless it's just chicken...sorry. Another difference is choosing from a menu. I'm getting a little bored with the pub meals because I've tried everything on the menu and want something different. Hubby on the other hand ALWAYS has the same meal. Last night, over our dinner we discussed whether we could choose a word I can use when he starts getting a bit agitated that would stop him in his tracks. I've tried 'I'm not having this conversation,' and 'I don't want to discuss this,' to no avail and we agreed one chosen word would be a better solution. We thought for a while and threw out a few possibles, but as my gaze wandered to his plate, the familiar sight of his favourite meal prompted me to say, "I know. Let's settle for GAMMON." So now it's agreed. The next time he starts to get a bit irritated I'm to shout 'GAMMON,' and hopefully the situation will be diffused. I've a feeling I may be yelling 'GAMMON.' quite a lot for a while and just hope it doesn't have any nasty side effects. But if I do happen to drop by your blog and leave the comment 'GAMMON,' I hope you won't take it personally. I guess I have to be grateful his favourite meal isn't chicken.  Apologies for such a long-winded, round the houses entry. I wasn't even going to blog today, but somehow I felt the need to be close to my WDC friends today. P.S. OH BUM - I see that link to the Blogville News didn't work. Will some kind person tell this DUH brain how to do it properly? |
| Is it really only five days since our annual summer party? Seems an age ago now and not a lot has happened since worth reporting about, so here's a quick rundown of a great evening. We'd spent all day preparing and as we put up gazebos, arranged chairs outside, organised lanterns and candles the weather remained dull but dry. The group 'For This Day' arrived at seven to set up outside at exactly the same time as the rain started. Plans were delayed. Guests started to filter in around seven-thirty but despite hope and prayers, the rain continued all evening so our group had to play acoustics indoors. However, everyone was suitably impressed and they played extremely well. I really wish they could get a lucky break on the music scene; they so deserve it. It really was a lovely party with ages ranging from three to sixty-three mingling quite happily and everyone joining in the fun. So, that's it for another year, but this one will always remain dear to my  as a tribute to my son Paul, before he leaves to travel.  Back to normality this week, if there is such a thing. All the things I was so looking forward to at the start of the year are all done and dusted now, but I guess I have to be grateful I'm still here and had the pleasure of enjoying them. Off to the gym in a bit - now that's a 'pleasure' I could well do without today, but need's must. Apologies for some folk's behaviour in the photos. lol   |
| Is it really only four days since we set off for York to see the performance by 'The Beautiful South?' It seems an age ago now and so much has happened since then. Back to being very quiet today though, but not caught up with sleep or blogs yet. Heavy rain and thunderstorms were forecast but we were fortunate enough to only experience a few spots of rain during the journey. I sat in the back of the car and read while son and hubby indulged in their favourite pastime, which I call 'stagging.' You know, disputes over the quickest route, best motorway lane, correct exit etc etc. Never travel with two related male drivers without a riveting novel or earplugs. On arrival we indulged in a meal and vino at a nearby pub then moved on to Castle Howard, where the concert was staged. I'm posting a few photos at the end of this, so will let them do the talking. 'The Beautiful South' have been on the music scene for almost twenty years and have sold millions of records. They're not really internationally famous and not everyone in England has heard of them either, but I have yet to meet anyone who knows them and doesn't like their music. My son doesn't know whether to be pleased or ashamed that his whole family love this group. Their name is tongue-in-cheek as they actually originate from a very northern town called Hull. We've seen them perform many times, but this outdoor performance was definitely the best ever. We sang, we danced, we drank, we cheered, we laughed, we cried and finally we supported our rather inebriated six-feet-five son back to the car, where he promptly crashed out for the rest of the journey home. Indeed, a great time was had by all and another happy memory goes into the brainbox and photo album. Tune in next time for the party report.      |
| Hello. Where am I? Why have I come in here? What happens in this place? Whistle whistle. Memories are stirring. Just a minute...it's coming back to me slowly. This is my...erm...bog...no, blag...no...BLOG that's it. This is where I come to report on life, make lists and grump. Not that you'll ever hear me complain of course. Just occasionally that real life stuff gets a bit too hectic and all I can manage is a quick dash by the computer and a longing stare at the blank screen. Damn all this activity for being so inconsiderate as to keep me away from my beloved WDC home. But, the concert on Friday was brilliant, the party on Saturday a great evening despite the rain and I had the added bonus of my sis staying over on Sunday night too. I hear her stirring from her room right now, so better put the kettle on. Isn't that a silly expression? Sounds like I'm going to wear it or something. But I digress...oh look a chicken. I'll download some photos soon but better get today started and catch up on ten billion blogs later. Have a good Monday. |
| Had a great day with sis yesterday although it was over in a flash, as all enjoyable activities tend to be. Things we don't enjoy seem to last for months...maybe that's the way to make life last longer, but how boring that would be. The duck situation is not quite resolved but a friendly solution is on the cards. Now I have to zoom through the next few days. Tomorrow we are going with our son to see 'The Beautiful South' perform outdoors at York Castle. Thunderstorms and torrential rain are forecast. We won't get home until after midnight and may be drying out before bed. Saturday is our annual August party - more rain forecast. This year we're having the group 'For This Day,' who we went to see at The Cavern, perform in our garden. If you hear loud music please don't complain - it's for one night only as a tribute to our son who will be leaving us in September. My sister and nephew are coming over for the party and I'm not sure how many bodies will be discovered snoring on the floors come Sunday, but I'm not counting or worrying about that. Clearing up and a quiet recovery period with the parents and sis will occupy most of Sunday. So today has to be spent in preparation - putting up gazebos, attacking the housework, sweeping paths, shopping for party food and renovating the old body are just a few things on the list. It may be a while before I get back to Blogville, but I hope you all have a good weekend and wish you could all come to our party. What a blast that would be whatever the weather. |
I smell a whiff of unrest in Blogville. Everywhere I've travelled today there have been hints of accusations, slanderous name-calling, bruised egos and unwritten threats. This can only mean one thing. Blogville is preparing for another war.  I may be wrong, but being a boy scout in another life, my motto is 'Be prepared.' My fuzzy dudes are armed and ready, feathers ruffled and tail sections quivering. As I checked out the ranks however, I discovered the heroine of the first Duck War, Dainty, has gone AWOL. This could be a major catastrophe. I'm quite aware it's my evil sister who has ducknapped Dainty from the hammock. She even sent this very inelegant shot of her complete with blackmailing threats. How dare she abscond with my warrior duck, then force her to absail, risking life and wing, when she knows full well war could break out at any time in Blogville and without Dainty it could spell disaster? Tomorrow I'm having a day out with that wicked sister of mine and there might just be another battle to contend with. She may have forgotten I have possession of her duck 'Desirable' and unless Dainty is returned to her rightful owner, unharmed with all her powers in tact, something very nasty could happen to her duck - making it completely 'UNdesirable.' She better be afraid, very afraid. Wish me luck and I'll return ASAP with my ear to the ground for any more rumblings in these blogs of discontent.  |
| Oh Sundays are just so...Sunday...if you know what I mean. Same old, same old and raining all day into the bargain. So how about a few nuggets of trivia and a few easy-peasy puzzles to solve? Yeah, that will have to do for today. Did you know - 1. In Shakyspear's  time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes. When you pulled the ropes, the mattress tightened making the bed firmer to sleep on. Hence the phrase 'Goodnight, sleep tight.' 2. If a statue in a park of a person on a horse has both front legs in the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air, the person died as a result of wounds received in battle. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes. 3. It is impossible to lick your elbow. 4. In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. (not for much longer I suspect) So, in old England, when customers became unruly, the bartender would yell at them, 'Mind your pints and quarts and settle down.' Hence the expression 'Mind your P's and Q's.' 5. Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair. (That says a lot about bald men. )Okay, okay wake up. Here's a few questions to answer to assess how much zinc and copper you have on your bonce. 1. Many years ago in Scotland a new game was invented. It was ruled 'gentlemen only, ladies forbidden.' What game was it? Far too easy I know. 2. What is noticeable about the answer to 111,111,111 x 111,111,111? 3. If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go before you used the letter 'A.' (The word 'and' doesn't count.) 4. What is the only food that doesn't ever go off? {Spoil, grow mould or whatever) 5. What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers and laser printers all have in common? Do I hear the sound of fwinkers all rushing off to Google? Leave your answers in the comment box. And finally - At least 75% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow. |
| After waiting an hour at the hospital to speak to a doctor, then another hour while nurses removed needles, packed up medicine and collected belongings, we finally got to take my dad home. Still no definite reason discovered for these dizzy spells and falls, so I'll just hop back on my knife's edge and wait for the next bout. My mother immediately removed her 'sweet old dear' head and replaced it with the 'cantankerous old bat' one. If it wasn't for all the running about I have to do, having my parents in two seperate places would probably work out best for everyone. In hospital he gets to eat regularly, can sneeze, fart and crunch peanuts without being admonished and is treated well by the lovely young nurses as he's little trouble and quite a card when he's allowed to be. My mother gets the house to herself, has no one around to irritate her and gets her shopping and housework done by her daughter, while she reads books and watches what she wants on TV. If I could just get a hospital bed and a nurse for my dad in a building near to my mum, to save all this dashing backwards and forwards. As happens when you're in the midst of chaos, innanimate objects enjoy joining in and adding to the mayhem. My parent's gas fire decided to pack up at the beginning of last week. The plumber we sent for spent a whole afternoon working on it, then declared he couldn't fix it. I knew when I remarked they wouldn't need it anyway with it being so warm it was an invitation for the weather to turn decidedly chilly. And it has. To top it off their boiler has also decided to throw a wobbly and they have no hot water. Great timing with a weekend on the horizon and plumbers as rare as gold dust. And so the saga continues. Is there anywhere online I can purchase a parallel life, so I can do what I want in that one, because this one certainly doesn't get any easier. Oh well, you know I'm not one to complain and it's time to indulge in a little light relief by tackling the Friday bog cleaning session. All this and heaven too. |
| Below is a sample of the questions I was asked yesterday at my interview, to assess my ability to return to work - 1. What time do you pour a first drink of wine? 2. Can you manage to get dressed in the morning? 3. Do you answer the door when the bell rings? 4. Where did you get that suntan? 5. Do you throw things when you get angry? Now, I admit to not being the sharpest crayon in the box but I fail to see the relevance of any of those innane questions. A thousand gift points to anyone who can. So am I to conclude that had I turned up to the interview totally rat-arsed, pale as a ghost and naked, then proceeded to throw the questioner's computer out of the window, I would have been declared unfit to work? Damn, hindsight is a wonderful thing. I suspect I'll receive notification by next week that I'm fit to be employed for the four years before I reach pensionable age, God willing. I'll then officially become a Jobseeker and need another interview to decide what sort of work I'm best suited to. I've already planned my response when I'm asked. I want a job sitting behind a desk with a computer, looking down my nose at everyone and asking them totally ridiculous, bizarre questions. Excuse me, I don't seem to be able to take off this sarcastic head this week. Maybe I should send for Toolwoman to perform some intricate technical operation to remove it. Which reminds me - |
| It's strange how some days you open the wardrobe door and despite loads of things hanging in there, you just can't find a thing to wear. Take this morning. I picked up head number one, which had a slight hangover. It was in self-critical mode telling me I need my roots doing and haven't been to the gym enough lately. I didn't feel like a day of being told I have earache and catarrh because I smoke too much and a thick head because I over-indulged in the wine bottle, so I stuck my tongue out at it and threw it back in the wardrobe. Head number two was a whining one. Complaining about looking after parents, grumpy hubby, being broke, having no time to play and generally feeling sorry for itself. Well, I can do the whinging quite well enough on my own thank you very much and despite the old adage 'two heads are better than one,' I decided I needed no help in being a grumpy old woman and put it back. Head number three was in party mood. I reminded it it's already had a holiday, a weekend in London and a birthday outing, but that head is completely out of control. It just wants to party, party, party and laugh its way through the day. Now much as I'm not in disagreement with that, I told it there's no fun in medicals, interviews and hospitals and sent it out with a fiver to go shopping. Head number four was the fantasy head. It suggested I advertise on the internet for a rich toy boy with a great sense of humour to take me away from all this. It was tempting I can tell you, but the cynical head I was already wearing when I got up said 'Oh yeah? And who's going to look after the wrinklies? Anyway, knowing my luck I'd get dumped after a couple of weeks for some much younger, prettier head and be left stranded and destitute.' Head number five wore a flat cap and a beard. It hinted I should try being a man for the day and see if things worked out better for me. It didn't sound like a bad idea, but the beard didn't match my dress and I didn't want to have to go in the gents' changing rooms at the swimming pool and be exposed to things my sensitive nature might get distressed about. So I thanked it, gave it a wink and sent it down the pub. Now, it would go against my nature to take out a sixth head so I'm afraid I've had to wear the same one as yesterday. If anyone has a spare happy head with no responsibilities please send to Scarlett c/o WDC. |
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