Rhyme and No Reason!

Blogger, author and rhymester who likes to find the humour in life.

Episode 63: Man’s Best Friend — December 2, 2014

Episode 63: Man’s Best Friend

What is it with men and the TV remote control? I am sure they think it is an extension of themselves, another appendage or something, because trying to separate the two is nigh on bloody impossible!….

When I was growing up, we only had 4 channels on the TV. In order to turn it over, you had to actually get up off the settee, go over to the TV and push in the knob or button to turn it over. Seeing as there was such little choice in TV and no-one could be bothered to keep getting up, it normally stayed mostly on one favourite channel. My step-dad was the one who always chose that channel as well, my mum was not really that bothered as she liked similar things anyway.We watched what he wanted and that was the end of it!

He couldn’t believe his luck as TVs became more sophisticated, and there was a remote control to play with (or ‘clicker’ as he liked to call it). When cable TV was introduced and there were extra channels to watch, it was dream come true for a ‘Telly Addict’ like my step-dad. He LOVED nearly all sports, had a fondness for a Spaghetti Western, became hooked on one or two soaps, and finally vociferously joined in with the quiz shows. Oh god, he would berate the hapless contestants (Family Fortunes being his favourite) for their stupidity; he would SCREAM the answers out to the dunces that couldn’t answer, repeating them louder and louder as if they could hear him, it used to drive me mad! However, I always laughed when he said “goodnight” to the newscaster before he went to bed.

The thing that was most annoying though is if, by chance one of us kids managed to actually get hold of the clicker and put Top Of The Pops or something on before he settled down for the evening, we would be halfway through only for him to come in, pick up the clicker and turn it over! He did not care if we were in the middle of something, he would just flick it over. I know we tried to hide the sodding clicker on occasion, but he would go ballistic turfing everything out until it was found!

I have found that Mr Grump is also a remote control hogger! (I think it has something to do with middle age, but I wouldn’t know as I am not there yet)! I’ll be watching something and when the adverts come on he starts flicking about through the channels; I ask him to turn it back but by the time he does it has already started and I have missed the first 2 minutes! He also loves to mess about with the menus, so you end up watching a 2×2 inch square for 20 minutes or until he has figured out how to do whatever it is he wants to do!

I can actually see the similarities in Mr Grump and how my step-dad was; armchair (no-one else is allowed to sit in it as it is in the best spot for seeing the TV): handy table nearby on which to rest obligatory cup of tea; slippers. The only difference is my step-dad had an astray on the table, and Mr Grump has a pouffe for his legs. Other than that two peas in a pod, just 20 years apart!

Some things will never change I guess!

Episode 58: Judge Me for Who I Am, Not What I do!!! — November 27, 2014

Episode 58: Judge Me for Who I Am, Not What I do!!!

Isn’t it strange how very often a person is judged on the job that they do, or profession they choose. It even categorizes what ‘class’ you belong to.Very often, even now,when participating in any sort of consumer study or market research, the question is always asked as to, either the occupation of the ‘head of house’ (at least it is not assumed now that will automatically be a male) or the income of the main breadwinner, in order to determine which socio-economic group or class to slot people into.

People can be so snobby and superior if they don’t consider your job to be worthwhile or, if it required little or no qualifications, they assume that perhaps you must be a cretin and therefore unworthy of their attention. Mr Grump used to clean toilets a couple of years ago before his current job as a driver. (I may have mentioned before, but he is a trained and qualified chef, but after many years of stress and shift work, decided he wanted to do something different). I am an Associate Nurse  (not a Registered Nurse, I studied for 2 years not 3 as they do).

Anyway, the reason I mention it , is when we have met people and told them what we did for a living, we could see the disdain, and desire in them for a quick getaway to move on to someone else more interesting. (After all, we can’t be very clever if one of us cleans toilets and the other isn’t even a proper nurse)! Next time we got asked what we did for a living, we rather truthfully, but bluntly replied, “clean up other people’s shit”! If you are going to get a reaction, make it a good one!

I feel sorry for the stay-at-home-mums as well. Regardless of their skills, experience, knowledge and training, they have somehow, turned into an empty-headed, muzzy brained, frazzled mum, who does nothing all day but play with their kids and watch trash TV! Oh wouldn’t that be lovely if only it were true! What a bloody insult to be written off, as a non-entity who has nothing to talk about other than how well little Johnny is doing with his potty training, or how to treat cracked nipples when breastfeeding!

By the same token, people very often respect others with nice,trustworthy. middle class jobs, like doctors for example. (Ever heard of Dr Harold Shipman, one of Britain’s, if not the world’s, most prolific serial killers?) Oh yes, lovely man to have at a party. Just don’t introduce him to your wealthy elderly  aunty, or you might find that she meets an untimely demise under his expert ministrations! (Yes I know he killed himself now,but you get the point)!

So many swindlers, con men and fraudsters have supposedly ‘good’ jobs or are in respectable professions, just as there have been some awful abusive, spiteful and cruel people in ‘caring’ roles.Look at the dishonest Politicians,and their fake expenses claims,not to mention the philandering that goes on(and ends up in the Sunday Tabloids), What about the fat cat bosses and their huge pay rises? It is not  necessarily a safe assumption to base a person’s character on the nature of their work.

What do you think? Are you happy being judged on what you do, as opposed to who you are?

Episode 57: Oh No, Christmas Is Coming! — November 26, 2014

Episode 57: Oh No, Christmas Is Coming!

There’s only 4 weeks until Christmas

And I’ve not even started my shop

No presents, no food, and no booze yet

 I don’t even have any pop!

The town is all lit up and sparkling

Santa’s grotto has also arrived

The shops are blaring out music

The old Christmas favourites revived!

All the heart-warming adverts on TV

They are sure to bring a tear to the eye

But my festive spirit is lacking

And I’ve not even made a mince pie!

I really need to get started

There are so many things still to get

I will make more of an effort

But it’s still not  December yet!

Episode 56: Domestic Goddess? No, But My Husband Is!!! — November 25, 2014

Episode 56: Domestic Goddess? No, But My Husband Is!!!

I’ve often wished that I was more of a practical person.  I am absolutely blown away by some of the talented bloggers around, and quite envious of their abilities. Take Heels and a Toolbox for example (http://www.heelsandatoolbox.com/). She takes on all sorts of DIY tasks, and gives others tips on how to save money by fixing things yourself! What a great idea and if I had a modicum of ability, I would definitely give it a go. My problem is not only being heavy-handed and a little accident prone,but also having a husband who is good at DIY,so I don’t HAVE to do it!

It was mentioned on the same website that some women never have to fill up their own cars with petrol, nor do they know how to! Well that got me thinking actually,as I AM one of those women! I do know how to fill up my car, but I don’t like doing it; the same as I don’t like putting the rubbish out, decorating, mowing the lawn, and other chores that long ago were associated more with the ‘man of the house’.I don’t like anything that is going to break my nails off (even though I must have them reasonably short for work), I don’t want to go grubbing about in the dirt (well not if it means digging the garden anyway, or weeding the flowers).I certainly don’t want to have to climb ladders to do ANY job (that is twofold; one I don’t like heights, two, it is safer for me, and everyone else) if I stay on the ground!

The thing with me is, I am also not that great at things normally associated with the ‘lady of the house’ either. My Mum, sisters and nieces are all really wonderful cooks, and not only can make something out of nothing, but most of them never measure out an ingredient or follow a recipe,unlike me.(I can cook a mean roast dinner though). I am lucky that Mr Grump does all the cooking at home unless I have some mad urge to do it!

I do get involved with housework though, I will clean, dust  plump cushions up, iron clothes, and do the washing. However I only vacuum if I have to, I hate it and it puts me in a bad mood, so good old Mr Grump gets that chore!

I do not get on very well with crafts either,but I am a glutton for punishment and I do constantly try to make things, sometimes I even make a reasonable job of it, (See Episode 21). I do attempt a bit of dressmaking (I use that term very  loosely in my case) but apart from one dress that I can actually wear, have been mostly unsuccessful. I will not give in with it though, just keep trying easier patterns. I can knit though, but all the best stuff I have ever made I have done for others so I actually don’t have anything good myself that I have made!

I am absolutely rubbish with hair, make-up and other things associated with ‘beauty’. I can put a bit of slap on when  the occasion merits it, but it is a tried and tested method I have used for years, and it serves me well .  My hair is long; that is it, pony tail, plait (not a French plait or a fishtail plait mind) or up in a clip..maybe bunches if I am feeling quirky, Oh and for going out, it gets straightened….job done!

I know that when I was on my own, I did have to mow the lawn (how I raged whilst doing it, getting all hot and bothered), I did put the stinky rubbish out, and I even put petrol in my car. Just as I also cooked every meal for me and Miss Hap (luckily she turned out all right), and pushed the vacuum around (bashing into everything as I went). So although I do envy other people’s creativity, talent and practicality, I am just going to have to accept that I missed out when they were handed out, and I must have other ‘hidden’ talents instead. Meanwhile, dear old Mr Grump cracks on with keeping the house in order!

Episode 55: Raining on My Parade…. — November 24, 2014

Episode 55: Raining on My Parade….

I was feeling a little heavy-headed when I got up yesterday; not really ‘with-it’, and lacking in energy and enthusiasm. Looking outside didn’t help matters either; grey, damp. miserable, just like my mood actually!…

I had wanted to try to do a bit of Christmas shopping, you know, be organised for once. Usually it is a maniacal, crazed dash around, last-minute panic buying , competing with the rest of the no-hopers who have disorganised lives. Not this year…I’m going to be one of those annoying people who have wrapped everything up (both figuratively and literally)  by December 1st!! Shame, I just wasn’t in the mood for it though…..

Miss Hap had been staying over at Nanny’s, and when asked if she wanted to come with us, sensibly declined our offer. So Mr Grump and I put on our new matching ‘His n Hers’ waterproof jackets  that he got us(actually they are more like ‘His n His’ jackets as mine is rather large as well as masculine looking, but it keeps the rain out) and  ventured out into the lashing rain!

We got to the town centre and it was quite deserted which was nice (not everyone was as keen to get soaked as we were). The Christmas lights had been turned on Saturday, and it was looking very festive through the rain (It was a big disappointment as most towns get a ‘celebrity’ turning on their lights, we got Postman Pat! I know he is a celebrity in his own right to the under 5’s, but for the rest of us,a bit of a let-down)!  I tried putting my hood up as the rain was getting heavier, but it totally blocked out my vision,(seeing as it was a bit on the massive side). Mr Grump fussed about with it, and sight restored, we headed to some shops further in the town.

After a while  I decided I needed a coffee, and as Mr Grump is back smoking again (busted)! we went to a cafe with tables and chairs outside. I went in to get the drinks and when I came out Mr Grump had bagged a table that had a parasol, so we enjoyed our coffee outside; only getting half soaked, as opposed to completely drenched if there had been no shelter. Suitably refreshed we traipsed off again. Suffice to say, we didn’t end up getting ANY Christmas shopping, I just couldn’t summon up enough motivation, plus I didn’t fancy getting bogged down with loads of bags, which would get soggy with the rain. We did however, get an extension lead, so we have enough space to plug in all the Christmas lights (when we can be bothered to put them up)! See, I AM getting organised.

Mr Grump then wanted to drag me to the Supermarket as of course we needed groceries. He didn’t think it fair for some reason, to drive all the way home, drop me off, then go out again on his own, so I huffily went with him. It was packed in there; obviously it is THE place to be on filthy Sunday morning.It took ages getting what we needed, but finally we went back to the car, and, as is the norm, I got in whilst Mr Grump opened the  boot, ready to unpack the shopping from the trolley…I was cold and crabby, and huddled down in my seat. I happened to glance up, out of the window, and saw Mr Grump haring off! Our trolley nowhere in sight. It must have rolled off whilst he was round the back of the car.

Sure enough, he came back pushing the errant trolley. It was still bucketing down with rain, and poor old Mr Grump was looking a little bedraggled. Well, if anything was going to put a smile on my face, then this was it. My shoulders were shaking as I watched him viciously manhandle the trolley to the back of the car, and start shoving everything in. I cackled as he muttered under his breath, and guffawed as he got in next to me and ranted! That cheered me up!

Episode 53: Our Pet Pooch! — November 22, 2014

Episode 53: Our Pet Pooch!

Although my parents had a dog when I was younger, I’ve never had one myself, until 2 years ago when Roxy came into our family…..

I had mentioned to Mr Grump that I would love to have a dog; he loves all animals so was definitely in agreement. We also thought it would be lovely for Miss Hap to have a pet to love and learn how to look after. Of course, we wanted to make sure that we got the right dog for us, that would fit into our family, and that we would be able to give the right care to.I had also done a bit of research online as well, to see what types of dog were good with children, and amongst my favourites were the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

We decided that we wanted to get a rescue dog if possible, as there are so many pets that need re-homing. We contacted a few centres locally but they mostly had large dogs or staffies, which I didn’t think would be right for us. I e-mailed one centre and asked to be considered if they had any small dogs that needed placing, left my contact details and left it at that.

About a fortnight later when I got in from work Mr Grump asked me to phone the rescue centre which I did. They informed me that a young mum with 5 kids,and a puppy that she couldn’t take care of as it was too boisterous!  She needed them to come and get it NOW before she dumped it. The rescue centre asked if I would be interested which of course I was. All she knew was that it was a Cavalier King Charles spaniel puppy, just what we were looking for. I contacted the woman direct who invited us to come and see her. we were straight on the motorway and an hour later met little Roxy for the first time…..

We were all instantly smitten with her. She was so excited to see us, jumping up at us, tail going like the clappers; she had actually been very well looked after, she was microchipped and had all her injections; the harassed woman just came to the end of her tether as she had so much going on!  We ended up taking her home with us that evening along with all of her paraphernalia! The rescue centre were amazed when we told them, but thrilled that Roxy had got a new loving home.

On the journey home, Roxy snuggled into my lap, and was as good as gold. She settled in with us so quickly it was unbelievable.Mr Grump took charge of feeding her and taking her out for walks, and Roxy absolutely adores him! About a week after getting her we took her to the beach.  I went in for a swim with my sister and her labrador Milo came bounding in after us. Two minutes later I saw this little face and flapping ears working its way towards me, Roxy wanted to join in.

Of course, she soon knew how to get around Mr Grump, and he spoils her rotten! She sits on his lap in the evenings and trots off after him everywhere, as she knows that she will often get an extra treat, looking up at him with her beguiling eyes. She sleeps in our room (her little bed didn’t last long), but always noses into Miss Hap’s room before bed to make sure she is ok!

She does get a little jealous though if Mr Grump shows affection to anyone (or anything else). If I ever dare to sit with Mr Grump then she will either turn her back on us, and sulk, or she will paw at me trying to get me away!  She doesn’t like being late for her walk either and if Mr Grump thinks he might get a sneaky lie-in on the weekend he is very much mistaken. She will jump on his head to wake him up, then race downstairs and bark at the coat rack until he gets his jacket on to go out.

I feel so blessed that we have Roxy in our lives… it was such a coincidence how we came to get her, and I am so pleased that she is now a member of our family.

Episode 52: Optimistically Pessimistic! — November 21, 2014

Episode 52: Optimistically Pessimistic!

I’m afraid I am one of life’s worriers. If I have something to worry about then so much the better, if not I will just worry because things are going well, and that always means that something bad is about to happen! I have tried to change my ways, even on occasion, being positive, but to no avail. It just doesn’t suit me being a ‘glass half-full’ type of person!

Now don’t get me wrong, being a worrier does not equate to being a miserable sod. Far from it (although I am one of those unfortunate people who has the type of face that complete strangers feel the need to say to me, “Cheer up love, it may never happen)”  well actually it has now they have said that to me for no reason, but I laugh it off through gritted teeth, as to come out with a rude reply would have ME worrying that I have offended THEM!

I worry when I  meet new people  because I am usually a little quiet until I get to know someone A couple of years ago I  applied for University as part of my job role. I didn’t know any of the other 25 students who were going to  be studying with me, and my God didn’t I worry about that!…Would I be the oldest student there? Would I appear stupid as I am so quiet? All this kind of stuff would run through my head. However it didn’t stop me going for it, and I made some really good friends, AND even gave presentations in front of the group (we had no choice, but I did it)!

I worry about my daughter constantly. She tends to say exactly what she thinks, and it can (and does) get her into trouble sometimes. She has problems understanding diplomacy and tact, and struggles to understand what effect her words might have on people’s feelings (She has Asperger’s).Last night at her school’s ‘academic review’ one of her teachers was asking her how she enjoyed ‘Community Day’ (The school is divided up into various communities and once a month they do fun activities and games) “I can’t even remember it” sulked my daughter who was mad because she didn’t want to go to her review. Mr Grump and I cringed as she gave one monotonous answer after another, being deliberately obtuse to make everyone aware of her displeasure at being dragged along. She didn’t even cheer up when she was praised for her achievements! This of course made me worry what the teacher must have thought of us, as well as how I was going to teach my daughter that some things in life have to be endured, with good grace, and a bit of enthusiasm! After all, we were all there for her benefit.

Being clumsy of course, has its own disadvantages when you are a worrier like me. I have lost count of the times I have made a grand entrance,   rather than the subtle one I would have preferred, due to the fact that I  have tripped over something which has led to me stumbling headlong into the room. On one occasion at work I had gone into a side room to dress an old lady’s badly ulcerated legs. She was not the most timid of patients and liked to speak her mind. Anyway, I spent a  long time ensuring a made a good job of the legs, and that she was comfortable. As I was cleaning the metal equipment trolley I had used afterwards, I misaligned the top tray so that it landed with a clatter and an almighty crash to the floor, startling us both, . “Get out of here you noisy bitch” raged my patient!

I know that to some extent, everyone worries about something, after all it is human nature. I just wish that I could lighten up a bit at times, and just ‘go with the flow’ instead of over-analysing things, and making something out of nothing. I long to breeze through life without a care…but I know that even if my glass was half full rather than half empty, I would probably knock it over anyway!

I would love to know if there are any other worriers out there!

Episode 49: Cleaning out my Closet! — November 18, 2014

Episode 49: Cleaning out my Closet!

I am in dire need of a wardrobe overhaul. This morning as I was carrying out the depressing task of finding something to wear, I came across a bright colourful top I hadn’t worn for ages. Instead of wearing the usual black (I am still sticking to the myth that it is more slimming), I thought I would live a little, and wear the top with some trousers that match it perfectly…..

I looked through the hangers jam-packed in my wardrobe for the trousers, but without success. Funny, I know they are in here somewhere. I looked again, more frantically this time…nope….now I was on a mission….finding those bloody trousers was of paramount importance!  I pulled stuff out, ransacked the shelves…no trousers!  They seem to have gone into that void where the odd socks, stray gloves, and favourite knickers go!

Perhaps now is the time to actually go through my wardrobes and drawers and chuck out some of the stuff I no longer need. As I was rifling through, I noticed sparkly tops that had lost a few sequins and also some of their lustre; some chunky knit cardigans that  are a bit threadbare, bobbly jumpers, some lovely cream trousers( unfortunately 2 sizes too small now) plus a load of  unflattering, clingy (in all the wrong places) dresses, not to mention some grubby, grotty looking t-shirts that had seen better days (probably back in the 1980s when they were new)!

My problem is I can’t bear to let go of things. As well as my bulging wardrobes, I have suitcases and bags of clothes in the loft, those space-saving bags full of clothes in the airing cupboard, and even a couple of bits I have stashed in Miss-Hap’s wardrobe! You never know when you might want to wear something again, so clothes I have loved in the past have been kept ‘just in case’!

I have got clothes in a full range of sizes, as my shape has altered over the years, The smaller items I kid myself that I will be able to fit into again one day, and the larger ones are worst case scenario for if I put weight on again! Along with my clothes I have got a load of handbags and shoes (as most women know, you can NEVER have enough shoes) in different styles and colours.

I know there is no way I will be able to wear some of those shoes anymore. For a start, I do not have the best track record for even being able to stand up in some of the sky-scraping heels I have, let alone attempt to walk in them. However, they are pretty and some are sparkly, so I need to keep hold of them for ‘special occasions’. Same with the bags. Although I only tend to use one or two, it is more a case of me being too lazy to keep changing over the entire contents from one bag to another. If I rectify this, then I can justify keeping the bags. Sorted!

For some reason, I have also got a drawer which is mainly for swimwear! Now when you have a figure like mine, the pink and white spotted bikini with big buttons, only looks good on the hanger or in my imagination; otherwise it just stays neglected in the swimwear drawer along with the sassy little brown candy stripe bikini, two tankinis and numerous ‘mumsy’ one-piece swimming costumes (that  only come out at the swimming pool.).

I need to get myself motivated for the mammoth task, and try to be ruthless in culling my wardrobe and drawers. It’s not going to be easy though. I bet that I still end up talking myself out of getting rid of any of it!

I would love to know if I am in the minority with my cluttered cupboards; does anyone else have loads of clothes but ‘nothing to wear’ like me, or are you the types that have ‘capsule’ wardrobes and minimal clutter?

Episode 48: Dad Dancing…. — November 17, 2014

Episode 48: Dad Dancing….

I was thinking about my dad this morning, and what a character he was. Born and bred by the sea, he thought nothing of going swimming in all  weathers. Rain never hampered him, in fact, he used to tell us kids that it was warmer in the water when it rained! That was certainly true in his case as he always wore the same pair of skimpy Speedo trunks (no daughter, or son for that matter,should have to see their dad in Speedos, but he would not be told)!

His idea of sun tan lotion was olive oil! Turning frequently in the sun, and slathered all over in grease, he roasted up a treat and was always a golden brown colour in the summer! As well as the dreaded Speedos, he also had a penchant  for VERY short shorts, which he teemed with the obligatory ‘mandals’ (as I like to call them, you know, the strappy man sandals that look good on no-one)! This attire he would wear even into his early 80’s.

Aside from his love of swimming Dad loved to try and get the most out of life He and my step-mum would travel extensively all over the place and I have a lovely collection of postcards I received, with his indecipherable scrawl (it would normally take a couple of attempts at reading it before it sank in what he had written), detailing all the things they had been getting up to.

They also had a property in Spain where they lived for six months of the year to avoid the harsh  English winters (who can blame them)! When they came back home though they had all these clubs that they went to, one of which was the ‘Recycled Teenagers Club.’ This was my dad to a tee.. He was always up for a challenge, and I remember him and my step-mum at one of my niece’s 18th birthday party. Someone (probably Dad) had asked the DJ to play the ‘Macarena’. As soon as it started him and my step-mum were straight out of their chairs with a speed that belied their aging years, and onto the dance  floor, trying to drag some of us up on the way. (I have got 2 left feet and decided to sit that one out).

Anyway, off they went onto the floor with all the ‘youngsters’ . I can still picture to this day my dad’s face, eyes closed, totally oblivious to everyone around him, concentrating on the music and the steps he had to do. I roared my head off when it came to the hip thrust bit, although a bit alarmed that with the effort he was putting into it, his back might give out! He was having a whale of a time, and stayed on the dance floor for quite a while!

Not only did he like to dance, but he also loved music. Although he couldn’t read a note, he could somehow manage to play anything by ear, and he would sometimes sing along in his rich melodious voice, whilst the rest of us would bang on a tambourine, or plink on the electric keyboard to accompany him! So much better than sitting in front of the tv!

Needless to say, Dad reached out and grabbed life with both hands, he wanted to experience lots of different things. He loved food, and had a very hearty appetite (he was never overweight though). I don’t think there was anything he wouldn’t eat; even though the rest of us wimped out at the hottest curry, dad would relish it. if we were too fussy to eat out food, dad would polish it off, as he hated waste.

He was also very articulate and knowledgeable. It seemed to me that he knew something about everything! Education was extremely  important to him, and he always tried to encourage us to do well at school (whether we wanted to or not)! He was the type of man who mixed easily with anyone from any background. He always found something interesting to  say, and had a wicked sense of humour (I hope that some of this has rubbed off on me)!

My dad sadly passed away a couple of years ago now. He still did as much as he could right up until he was no longer physically able, and still kept his positive attitude throughout…I was feeling a bit down today, but thinking about my dad, has put a smile on my face, as he was always such fun to be around despite his dodgy taste in swimwear!

Episode 47: Ooops I Did It Again! — November 16, 2014

Episode 47: Ooops I Did It Again!

I am the undisputed queen of ‘putting my foot in it’, literally as well as figuratively! I just seem to  attract calamities and disasters, and can make a fool of myself without any help, or encouragement whatsoever!

Often it is because I have misheard something, particularly on the phone. Once  I have asked them to repeat themselves a couple of times, to make sure I heard correctly, I then confidently pass on the message, only to be greeted with a baffled look or stunned silence. For example, I took a call for my boss (he could give Mr Grump a run for his money) when I had not long started at a travel brochure company, I put the call through and informed him it was Mr X from PMT. When he had reluctantly taken the call,he came out of his office and roared at me that the caller was from TNT (the courier service)! I had thought that PMT was a funny name for a company but being new, what was I to know)?!

In my younger days, I remember going out with my two sisters to a pub, I had dressed to impress, and we went to the bar to order our drinks. It was quite packed, but luckily there was an unoccupied bar stool next to me so I thought I would make use of it. Being a little short, I kind of had to hike myself up a bit to get on it. Once I had plonked myself down, I realised I was not on it properly as it tilted dangerously to one side. As I attempted to right myself, I just ended up twirling round and around on one stool  leg at  a time. My sisters and some random bloke put their arms out to try to steady me, which eventually they managed to do. However, my pulling power was greatly reduced (actually it was zero), and we got out of there pretty soon after!

Weddings are the place where people like me can really shine in the glow of embarrassment! My sister and brother in-law had a beautiful January wedding in a country house where we all stayed. As luck would have it, the weather was pretty clear on this day and we went outside to have some group photos taken.. I was really pleased with my outfit, but especially the expensive purple four-inch stiletto shoes which really set it off! As we were gathering for the family photo, my lovely shoes seemed to turn into ice skates on the decking where we were standing. I was slipping and sliding, falling madly with my arms windmilling, trying to keep my balance as I hurtled my way towards the rest of the group. The gasps and guffaws of the onlookers intensified my mortification, but I did mange to stay upright!

At my niece’s wedding breakfast after the speeches, I was to read out a poem that I had specially written for her and her husband.(It is something I have done for years for any special family occasion), Even though I am no public speaker and get really nervous, I got up to recite my poem.  Everyone was giving me encouraging looks as I started reading with my voice shaking. As I continued, I realised that my fancy headband was slipping a bit. I tried to surreptitiously push it back up and carry on, but I jerked a little bit and it fell off with an almighty clatter onto the table, thus drowning out my words! I waited for the laughter to die down and carried on..cringing!

These are just a few of the many little trials I face on an almost daily basis. Even at work, I am not immune. I have tripped over more Zimmer frames than I care to remember, cleaned up countless puddles, where I have knocked over washbowls or jugs of water, and gouged out tracks in the polished floor where I hadn’t  taken the brake off the weighing scales properly when wheeling them along the entire length of the corridor! Luckily my colleagues know what I am like after all this time, but I remember when I hadn’t been there that long. I was walking along the corridor back to the ward from the toilets when the ward sister behind me called me and informed me that I had got my dress tucked into my knickers thereby showing off my big bum to all and sundry…nice!!!

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