Rhyme and No Reason!

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

Episode 46: Turning Full Circle….. — November 15, 2014

Episode 46: Turning Full Circle…..

Me and Mr Grump go back quite a long way (30 years to be precise)! We first met at a small Army Barracks where we were both stationed. I had literally just got out of  basic training and was still quite a shy and quiet 18-year-old (One of the reasons I joined the Army was to ‘come out of my shell’ a bit). He was a cocky and confident 21-year-old Army chef (definitely a good start there, he loves to cook, I love to eat)!

Anyway, I didn’t pay that much attention to him at first, preferring to concentrate on the food he was dishing up. I had not been on the camp that long, and it was still a bit of an ordeal for me going into the cookhouse as it was always packed, and I didn’t know many people yet; however, if I wanted to eat I had to go in…simple!

I had made a  couple of friends in basic training who had gone before me to this posting, and I ended up sharing a room with one of them,who went on to become my best friend (we are still in contact today) Karen, (this friend) and I decided to take advantage of the private strip of beach that we had on this camp, and headed off for a paddle in the sea.

We ended up going for a proper swim as it was a gorgeous, hot day, we had a little time to kill, and wanted to make the most of it. what I didn’t mention is the fact that, as it was an ‘off the cuff swim’, we hadn’t dressed for the occasion, and were just wearing shorts and t-shirts. Mr Grump, (actually back then he was spiky haired, and very lean and fit) and a friend of his had the same idea and were also having fun in the sea, swimming and splashing about.

They got out a little before Karen and I, and were just hanging around on the beach. As I came wading of the water, Mr Grump came over to me with his jacket which he thoughtfully wrapped around me. I thanked him for his kindness and we eventually went on to have a rather tempestuous two-year relationship.(oh, and he  later told me that he knew exactly what was in store for him, as my yellow shorts, white top, plus underwear,  had gone completely see-through in the water AND he had a bloody good look before bringing me the jacket to spare my blushes)!

We did get engaged during the two years, but were much too young and immature really, plus Mr Grump was being posted elsewhere and was a bit of a Jack-the lad in those days! We ended u going our separate ways, and although Karen and I both left the army after 3 years, Mr Grump continued to serve.

I came back to my home town, and life moved on…I did occasionally think about Mr Grump, and at one time, went to visit his mother in Wales for a few days. I didn’t see him at that time, as he was off serving abroad somewhere. Anyway, I ended up getting married, and much later  I had my beautiful daughter . He of course also went on to have children and marry.

As I mentioned, I was still in touch with Karen, and one day she told me that she had seen Mr Grump on Forces Reunited, and that he would be pleased to hear from me. I was really shocked  after all the time that had passed, but was so curious. After all, I had thought about him many times over the years, so anyway I bit the bullet and contacted him.

We sent messages back and forth for a while but then finally decided to meet up. I had been single for a few years as Miss Hap’s father and I had split when she was a very young baby. I had arranged to meet him in a local Supermarket car park, but he got lost as had to drive for a couple of hours to get there, Finally he made it there and seeing him was like the years just melted away (well aside from the fact that he had put on a few stone and his  hair was bald on top and long at the back which he put into a pigtail)! That was it for both of us…. after a few weeks, he moved in, and six months later we married! (By this time I had got at him with the hair clippers, he lost a load of weight, I put a load on), but we were happy

Karen and her family of course came to the wedding, and she was one of our witnesses;  Miss Hap was our gorgeous bridesmaid and  we had a small, intimate ceremony (so intimate I didn’t realise the room would only hold 4 people (and the huge dress that I had chosen), so a few of our family stood outside the window looking in at us exchanging vows!! We did have a reception at the local pub though for everybody and it was a wonderful day.

It just goes to show, how unpredictable life is! I never would have guessed, that after being apart for 25 years, Mr Grump and I would not only meet up again, but I would eventually become his wife, even if it took me 30 years to do it!!

Episode 45: Don’t Let The Grass Grow Under Your Feet… — November 14, 2014

Episode 45: Don’t Let The Grass Grow Under Your Feet…

I do love autumn…the beautiful colours, the fresh, crisp days,the overgrown garden…(hang on a minute, that bit I don’t love)!I I don’t have a very large garden at all, but the 40ft I have got is nearly all grass, apart from a little path that goes straight up the middle, and the border where I have my rose bushes.

The reason that the grass is so long outside is all Mr Grump’s fault! He is chief gardener and mower of the lawn.I might occasionally dead head a rose when the need arises, but I like to appreciate, rather than create, or maintain! Mr Grump made the fatal mistake of lending our trusty lawn mower to my younger sister (Mrs OCD), and her husband (Mr Cack-Handed). He should have known that it would all end in disaster!

The end result was that the lawn mower went ‘BANG’, the cable was somehow cut, and both of them blamed the other for the demise of our mower. However, Mrs OCD assured us that they would carry out the necessary repairs,and return the  mower back to us fully restored to life….

Now I know my sister is pretty meticulous in everything she does, and she is a dab hand at most  things (cooking, sewing, crafting, painting and decorating to name but a few), but I know she is not too keen on DIY jobs, which meant that Mr Cack-Handed was going to take up the challenge to revive the dead mower!

I have to enlighten you at this point, that a screwdriver, pliers and a hammer are the extent of Mr Cack-Handed’s tool kit! Mr Grump has a whole load of stuff in his tool armoury  which clutter up my shed and cupboards, but he at least can be relied upon to tackle most DIY jobs with a relish and do a half-decent job of it! My poor hapless brother-in-law, by contrast hates DIY with a passion, and is not known for his accomplishments in this department.(Although when it comes to composing lyrics of a song, or playing a guitar and performing, he is amazing).

A couple of examples of his ‘handy’ work: He built my sister an archway in the garden which she has covered with roses, unfortunately it was a little wonky to say the least, and after a few failed attempts to straighten it out, Mr Grump and my nephew stepped in and sorted it. The other ‘job’ he botched was the guttering outside their patio doors. A clip was missing and it leaked so he found a Barbie credit card ( God knows from where), folded it in half and wedged in place! To be fair, that has lasted over a year in all weathers!

Anyway….we waited with bated breath for our  mower…and waited….and…borrowed next door’s as it was summer and the grass was taking over the garden! Mr Grump did say he would do it himself, but I think it was a pride thing and Mr Cack-Handed wanted to do it.

Finally we were told it was repaired (the cable replaced) but not re-assembled as he couldn’t remember the order in which he had dis-assembled it! Mr Grump went over to collect it. As he was putting it back together, he realised that the cable was too short; it has been wrongly measured and cut too much. Luckily my brother was visiting from Malaysia that day, and suffice to say, he and Mr Grump fixed the mower!

The only problem now is waiting for the ground to dry up. Ever since we have had the mower back, it has either been raining or the ground too wet to mow properly., and as I have not got Mr Grump insured yet, I don’t want him getting blown up!!

Meanwhile. Mr Grump informs me that he and other family members are trying to build up a bit of a tool collection for Mr Cack-Handed, leaving odd tools over there when they visit him. Personally, I am not sure this is such a good idea. After all, you wouldn’t leave a load of ingredients with someone who couldn’t cook, and expect them to produce a gourmet meal!

Episode 44: Left To My Own Devices! —

Episode 44: Left To My Own Devices!

As if I am not clumsy and awkward enough, I also have yet another disadvantage to add to my long list of unfortunate traits…I am left-handed! I don’t think you right-handers realise how much of a nuisance this can prove to be to us at times….

I remember how awkward it was at school to have this ‘affliction’. When I was very young we were taught how to knit (I don’t think it is generally taught in class now). being the only leftie, I found it quite tricky to pick up, but for once I was lucky as the teacher was able to show me how to do it left-handed. Mind you, that doesn’t alter the fact that every knitting pattern I have ever attempted to follow assumes that everyone is right- handed and I just have to swap everything round!

P.E. was also a little odd for me at times. When we were learning how to throw the discus or javelin, I had to stand at the opposite end of the line to the others,as our missiles would be travelling in opposite directions and we wanted to try to avoid any collisions or people getting hurt!

The only thing I don’t do left-handed is set the table the wrong way around! It was drummed into me from a very early age, the correct way to use a knife and fork,and lay a table,so that has never been a problem!

Mr Grump. is also left-handed (he puts the knives and forks out the leftie way). so he understands the difficulties that we face. A few years ago, I was trying to teach my daughter how to tie her shoelaces, She couldn’t get it no matter how many times myself or Mr Grump tried to show her (neither of us were dexterous enough to be able to do it right-handed); in the end my Mum taught her how to do it!

It is so much easier being a leftie now that I am older as some lovely people have considered our plight and  invented some rather practical gadgets for us! The left-handed scissors are marvellous; no more cack-handed attempts at trying to cut things out nicely, hacking away frustratedly.The fountain pen! At school we had a very fussy history teacher who insisted we use fountain pens, and there were only a few left-handed nibbed ones at the time. If you tried with a normal one, half the time you would be scratching about with no success, until suddenly SPLAT! A huge blob of ink would land on the page smudging anything you might have already managed to write!

Even sitting next to a right-hander could be awkward, I have to turn my book/paper 45 degrees to the left when I want to write, and I find that occasionally,if the person is sitting to my left, and are a little close, I will unintentionally bump them with my hand thereby mucking up their work!, or they end up accidentally  nudging me and messing mine up!

Even GUITARS can be a problem!  A couple of years ago Miss Hap went to guitar lessons (they didn’t last long as she didn’t have the concentration  span; she would upend it and twirl it round like a double bass, or swing it back and forth kicking at it)! Anyway.. I sat in on these lessons (I felt really sorry for the poor guy trying to teach her) and watched carefully, planning to help her practice at home. Well, I could only really attempt to get the same notes out of it if  turned the guitar the other way up…far too complicated for my brain!

Mind you, after all this time I have adjusted and adapted to the rather biased right-handed world we live in. After all, I am already pretty clumsy and heavy-handed, I can, and do trip over anything (sometimes even nothing), and I am practised in the art of walking into the glass patio door! (Oooh, I still remember one Christmas at my sisters,where I went smack into the glass doors landing on the floor. luckily they were extremely tough,and didn’t break. although there was a nice knee and head print on the door Suffice to say it kind of spoilt my evening and I went home with an egg-shaped bump, and massive headache! Still I provided some unexpected entertainment for them all, as they were pretty open in clutching their sides laughing at my misfortune)! So being a leftie is a drop in the ocean compared to my other weaknesses!

Episode 42: It’s Awkward Being Me…. — November 12, 2014

Episode 42: It’s Awkward Being Me….

Don’t you just hate the type of women that always, without fail, manage to look perfect; from shiny, healthy, beautifully styled hair to their manicured (or is that pedicured)? toenails! Unfortunately, I am not, and never will  be one of those women, but how I envy them!

Take how I dress for work, for example; aside from the very unflattering uniform, (which by the way, is  the shade of grey that is only normally achieved by putting a white and black item in the same wash on a high temperature; it looks dirty before I have even started). I never bother to wear any make up (it would be pointless as I get soooo hot on the ward) and I usually put my hair up in a clip so there is no styling involved. If I did make an effort to wear make-up and have some stylish up-do (which iI would have to get someone else to do anyway…I’m rubbish with hair)  then it would all be ruined within the first hour of me being there!

As I mentioned I get really hot and after a while of running around, the sweat is dripping down my face, which is bad enough (and embarrassing) without imagining what the end result would look like if I had carefully made up my face. Not only would I have ghastly streaks down my face from rivulets of sweat spoiling the foundation, but no doubt, the mascara would run, causing hideous black, spidery smudges mingling with streaky foundation! (Remember I am there to try to help the patients feel better, not scare them into an early grave)!

Talking of work, I used to have a colleague called Jenny who was one of these perfect women. We used to work in the Operations department of a busy travel brochure company,  so could mostly wear what we wanted to work. On this particular day she and I both turned up in identical outfits! We had on hot pink 3/4 trousers, a black top and black mules. Neither one of us knew the other was going to wear said outfit, and that was only the start of my humiliation!  Jenny is tall, willowy and blonde, and she looked fantastic…. I am blonde, but that is where the similarity ends, as I am also short and chunky!  Needless to say everyone commented on our outfits, and my other friend made it worse by calling us Bim and Bo (put it together and you get,,,,,the picture)!

Jenny and I became good friends, and used to go to the gym together during our lunch hour (why do I set myself up to fail)?! The day I  remember vividly (branded in my brain as one of THE worst embarrassing moments) started when both of us were on adjacent treadmills… We built up the speed until we were running… Just before ten minutes were up, I was gloating over the fact that  Jenny had slowed down and I had managed to keep up the pace! Well, we all know what pride comes before… and sure enough I lost concentration, and my footing…I was flailing desperately trying to stay upright..but no…BANG. I fell on the treadmill which was still going and it resented my falling on it. so it spitefully chucked me right off ,so I landed with a thud in a heap at the foot of one of the other exercise machines!

I sat there winded and rather red in the face, and my leg hurt. Oh no…here comes Mr Hunky Gym Instructor Guy…great.. I look like a right bloody fool. He comes over solicitously, helps me up and leads me off to the changing room to minister to my wounds, which I reluctantly showed him, ( I was dying of shame showing him my tree trunk legs, which were bruised and scraped)! No real damage was done so manfully (or womanfully) I decided to go back out there and work out on one of the machines. I chose the one where you could sit down, and use the weights to bring your arms backward and forward( you can tell I am no Gym bunny as I don’t know what any of the machines are called). Anyway….there was a bloke that was working out opposite me who was giving me a bit of a funny look. I assumed he had seen my little ‘accident’ and carried on. He still kept glancing my way, and I knew it wasn’t a lustful look (God knows, if it was he must have been desperate)! I looked down and to my utter mortification, noticed that the underwire from my bra, had somehow broken free and was poking out of my top! That was it…time to go…and never to return!

Jenny of course, looked as elegant and fresh when she had finished her workout as she had before she had started!!!

Episode 40: Christmas Crackers!!! — November 10, 2014

Episode 40: Christmas Crackers!!!

As we are well into November, everything is getting geared up for Christmas. The shops are starting to get decked out, and the festive goodies are already on display in some Supermarkets (even though most of the Christmas food will be out of date way before then)!!

As I may have said before, I come from rather a large family, most of whom have had the same upbringing, but it is funny how we all have our own ideas and traditions at Christmas time…..

My Mum, up until fairly recently lived in quite a large house which had separate dining room, living room and kitchen. The cupboard under the stairs in the dining room was chock-a-block with Christmas decorations. There were those huge plastic placards with snowmen or a Father Christmas on it; she had a box with her nativity scene, baubles, tinsel, strings of coloured lights (every year we sat there going through bulb by bloody bulb trying to work out which one had gone so the lights would work); she had church candles, christmas candles, a hanging santa which said ‘Ho Ho Ho!’ when you smacked it’s arse; another hanging Santa that everyone smacked their head on as they went upstairs; plus all of the dangly garlands and hanging sparkly bits…oh yes Mum loves a bit of sparkle at Christmas.

The only problem with that is, once my step-dad had sadly died and Mum got older,  one of us had to put the damn things up. Now this was a mammoth task..and more often than not involved a few of us, which was not always easy to co-ordinate! The end result was to look like a fairyland Grotto. My younger sister always got the job of taping up the front-room windows and stencilled little snow shapes onto them, which always looked nice but was a pain to do. I usually tackled the lights which never worked, and then our husbands would set about putting up all the other hanging bits and pieces under Mum’s fierce direction

Instead of leaving us all to crack on with it, she would tell whilst balancing precariously on whatever furniture was handy, “could you just lean over a bit more to the left as it’s not straight” . You try to oblige and  are struggling to keep your balance, but just manage to reach the desired spot when the drawing pin bends and breaks, so you have to start again!

All of this is usually carried out to the sounds of Westminster Cathedral Choir (one of Mum’s favourites) belting out Christmas carols in their high-pitched voices, (which actually feel like a drill through your head after a while) or if we are lucky, the usual Christmas album that nearly everyone has which my sister or one of the kids has brought over!

Anyway, once the job is done, and we have stood outside on the street to admire the decorations, lights and windows, Mum is left to fill up her shelves with ornaments, candles and other nick knacks. This is not the end though because of course, the tree has to be put up as well. She used to have a real tree but bought an artificial one some years ago which needs to be assembled!

I have done this job on many an occasion and it is not pleasant!! Firstly, the tree has to be retrieved from the garden shed, where it has become buried under all the summer stuff, chairs,, loungers etc. The garden shed has MICE which means I will scream my head off at any movement, and run out of the shed, This of course means that it takes ages to find the tree..

Once I have got it assembled a while later,  it is another fight with the lights that have to go on it, not to mention all  the baubles, bells, bows,robins and God knows what else, (not forgetting the obligatory fairy at on the top) before Mum would be satisfied with it. It was usually, by the way, only about the first of December at this point!

I just have to mention the one and only Christmas i spent with my Dad and step-mum. Myself and younger sister were about 11 and 13 at the time, We had traveled down to see him by coach and were excited to see what kind of Christmas we would have…..

My step-mum was a bit fussy about the decorations… she did not want any drawing pins in her walls or ceilings so poor Dad, with our help, put up everything we could with Sellotape! She was also not a very good cook either and as Dad wanted some home-made mince pies, and hers had turned out so hard they could be used as breeze blocks, me and my sister made them.

On Christmas day my brother and his wife (who lived in the same town) were invited over for lunch with us. He was in his early twenties, and at the time belonged to a motorbike group. He could appear a bit intimidating with all of his tattoos, earrings and leathers, and I know my step-mum was a bit wary of him….anyway we waited AGES for lunch. All of us in my family take after my Dad as far as large appetites go (step-mum eats like a bird) We offered to help but it was refused, and finally we were asked to sit around the table. At last!!! We sat there for a good 20 more minutes, until finally the sliding door to the kitchen opened (which was in the same room) and out she came with the turkey. We all clapped and cheered which nearly made her drop it, such was her rage!

As we sat around enjoying the meal, something strange happened….the decorations we had put up started falling down around us, one by one!  On this occasion she had shut the kitchen door, so the steam and heat from the kitchen had built up and rendered the Sellotape useless thereby everything around us literally came unstuck!  Me and my sister were trying not to giggle as yet another decoration landed around us! Dad caught step-mum’s eye, and  carried on tucking into his turkey blissfully!!

Episode 37: I Hope Chivalry Never Dies!!! — November 7, 2014

Episode 37: I Hope Chivalry Never Dies!!!

I thought that I would have a bit of a rant in today’s blog. If there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s bad manners. In one of the blogs I follow Storytime with John (http://storytimewithjohn.com/2014/10/31/manliness/ )    he mentions how his brother held open the door for two ladies at the University he attended, and rather than just go through it, they became offended, refused to go through the door, leaving this poor man standing there holding the door open for nobody, THEN berated him for his act of chivalry declaring  that they are quite capable of opening a door themselves!!!! Oooh, how I would have loved to have slammed it in their faces, rude and ignorant people!

I am all for equality and feminism  but good  manners have absolutely nothing to do with this whatsoever. I would hold open the door for anybody, regardless of age or sex because it is polite to do so!! I would also hope that someone would do the same for me. I certainly wouldn’t be offended by it…..

Another pet hate of mine are rude shop assistants! Yes I know everybody picks on them. I have worked in shops myself dealing with rude customers, but they are there to do a job, and if they hate interacting with the public, then why on earth work in a shop? The thing that winds me up the most is when I go to pay for something at a checkout in a shop or supermarket, and the shop assistant carries out the entire transaction without even acknowledging my presence! They are still carrying on a conversation with a previous customer/friend/colleague on the next till!!! The only interaction between us is when they hold out their hand for the money, which they snatch off you, before dumping your change in your hand and receipt. You are then dismissed, and they move on to ignore the next poor customer!

I am not keen on Supermarket shopping at the best of times, but I do resent the fact that I am so insignificant,  that the assistant carries on their discussion about their weekend/boyfriend/sex life (in my experience these assistants have all been women). If you DARE to actually talk to them and interrupt their important conversation, you are subjected to a withering look and a bit of huffing and puffing, especially if there is a problem with something!

I think it is very respectful for someone to give up their seat on public transport for an elderly person, or heavily pregnant woman, or anyone that is more deserving. I know I have done it myself, and I would expect my daughter to do it as well. I”m  not out to offend anyone by doing it, I just think it is common courtesy.

I am no lady, and when I get in a rage,can swear and curse with the best of them, but I also believe that in public, it should be toned down a bit! The amount of times I have heard mothers and fathers shouting at the top of their voices in the town centre, something along the lines of ” Come here Johnny, you little shit, before I knock your F**king head off!” I particularly hate it when parents swear directly at children, it just seems very aggressive and unnecessary!

I am pretty lucky that my husband Mr Grump, is pretty chivalrous! When we go shopping he carries all of the bags, regardless of how weighed down he gets, (Bless him, he is only skinny, and I sometimes think he will snap when they are particularly heavy)! I do offer to carry some, but he insists on doing it. This is just the way he has been brought up, If I am cold, and haven’t got a jacket, he will give me his, he opens doors etc, but not just for me. he would do the same for anyone.

As far as I am concerned, if a man wants to act like a gentleman, then I have got no problem with it. To me it just comes under the same umbrella as being kind, courteous and well-mannered, and that costs nothing, but makes a huge difference!

Episode 36: Too Cool For School…… — November 6, 2014

Episode 36: Too Cool For School……

When Miss Hap returned from school yesterday afternoon, I was really annoyed! It had been raining heavily all afternoon,and she came squelching into the house absolutely drenched! To say she looked like a drowned rat was an understatement. Her hair was shedding droplets like a dripping tap, her school blazer sopping wet, and for some reason, she had draped her new dance hoodie around her neck so that was sodden as well!

The reason I was so cross was that she had been warned that it was going to rain, and that she should wear a proper coat to school (with a hood) over her blazer so she wouldn’t get soaked.It is bad enough that I am already ill and feverish, I didn’t want her to become unwell also. What made me so mad was the fact that she would rather get soaked to the skin than wear a coat that is not the right brand,or considered ‘trendy’ enough for her. She once wore her Superdry coat to school (that is the right brand) but it is not really designed to fit over a blazer, jumper plus shirt, and after feeling bunched up and uncomfortable ditched that idea, but still refused to wear the ‘sensible’ school coat….

I am one of six children, and when I was her age I didn’t have a clue about fashion, or brands or anything like that (according to Miss Hap, I still don’t)! I remember when my sister was 11 and I was 13 we had  crimplene jump suits (mine was red and had a little logo on it saying ‘The Fonz is Cool’ (remember him from Happy Days)?! I thought I was the bees knees in that suit, It was nicer than my sister’s which was green and the logo was ‘Mercedes Benz’. Unfortunately even though I am 2 years older than my sister to the day, we were always dressed in matching outfits as children.

Most of our clothes used to come from the Supermarket when, even then it was not cool, and myself and sister were often called the  ‘Tesco Tearaways’ due to where Mum bought most of our clothes from!  Having said that we did have Clarks shoes, which may have been a bit more upmarket but were clumpy, ugly and worst of all ‘sensible’. (Miss Hap has only just stopped wearing them, as even I know it will kill off any street cred at secondary school)! Oh yes, I know all about wearing the ‘wrong’ clothes but I think I was about 15 before it bothered me not 11!

I was talking about this to Mr Grump, as this has been an ongoing issue between us and Miss Hap, as it is not just clothes, it is phones, and the latest games/consoles/laptops and God knows what else. If Miss Hap feels that she has got it rough then she should spare a though for poor old Mr Grump as he was growing up, He also didn’t have a lot when he was young, and his mum struggled to meet ends meet. However, she was a very creative and clever person, and used to knit him things. I roared with laughter though when he told me that his mum had knitted him a pair of swimming trunks,yes SWIMMING TRUNKS!!! As soon as he went into the water with them on, they went all baggy and saggy, and it was a job to keep them on!

Miss Hap is pretty lucky really, All of her school clothes  had to be bought especially because of the logo that is on each item, except for shoes and coat. I still have an old school photo of when I was about 15 with a jumper on, that my mum had knitted and I’m smiling!!!

Episode 35: Remember, Remember The 5th of November…. — November 5, 2014

Episode 35: Remember, Remember The 5th of November….

Good old Guy Fawkes. Thanks to his botched attempt to blow up the House of Lords and King James 1st with it, we get to celebrate November 5th with fireworks and bonfires, which stems from the celebrations that occurred after the failed Gunpowder Plot of 1605.

In keeping with British tradition, it has absolutely bucketed down with rain all day. That’s such a shame for those that have built bonfires ready to set alight tonight, The weather has literally put a damper on everything as it so often does, but where there is a will there is a way, and it will take more than a bit of rain to put people off their celebrations tonight.

I remember a couple of years ago on bonfire night, myself, Mr Grump, Miss Hap and a friend of hers decided to climb right to the top of the nearby Downs by candle light with a load of other people,where we would be rewarded with a spectacular bonfire and firework display once we reached the summit.Mr Grump was going to catch up with us halfway up as he had not finished work yet….

Me and the girls waited with all the others at the starting point, but soon realised that we were at somewhat of a disadvantage as most people had sensibly bought lanterns, and torches etc, we of course had nothing! Never mind, we could just tag along with people who had a light in order that we could see where we were going. In theory this was a good plan, however in practice they were pretty fit people, striding along up the hill, and it didn’t take long for me to lag behind, puffing and panting. We waited for the next group with lights and started the long climb again, but I was totally out of condition, and was concerned that I was going to have a heart attack, with all the wheezing and blowing, stopping and starting.

At last we made it to the top, just as Mr Grump caught us up (He had been really crafty and  parked his van on the road about halfway up the downs, cut through the fields that were cordoned off for the ‘experienced walkers’) and was with us in record time! It was a beautiful sight right out across the downs where the whole town could be seen. Different coloured fireworks lit up the sky and it was a wonderful sight t behold and well worth the effort.

Tonight though for our family, we will not be venturing out, As I sit here by my back door, I can hear the whizzes, bangs and pops of a few locals letting off the odd box of fireworks The dog gives an occasional bark to show her displeasure at the noise , but she is surprisingly unafraid, As I have just returned from the doctor’s with a throat infection, fever, and a week’s worth of antibiotics  we have decided to stay in the warm and dry.(That’s what you get for giving up smoking)!!!

I remember when I was young, you very often used to see a group of kids (usually boys) with a rickety old trolley which had a lumpy, home-made effigy of a Guy sitting drunkenly in it, with a sign asking for ‘A penny for the Guy’. You don’t see that so much now though which is a shame. Some of those ‘guys’ were pretty good, normally made with someone’s dad’s old jumper and trousers stuffed with newspaper so it would burn better on the bonfire.

As for the fireworks, well we had never heard of Health and Safety back then. The Dads would be out in the garden letting rockets off out of milk bottles! Everyone would be ooohing and ahhing especially when the ‘Catherine Wheel’ was lit. Oh this was the showpiece,… Hammered in to the back fence it would start to turn very slowly , then speed up, twirling around and around shooting wonderful sparks and colours out as it went, then… Bang,,,it took off where it was not hammered in properly and everyone would be ducking and diving to avoid getting hit!

Things then calmed down with sparklers.Little kids would be waving them around in the air making pretty patterns with the glowing ends.Then the food which would normally be a huge warming stew or jacket potatoes cooked in the fire, plus other winter goodies….Ahh, yes, those were the days…Now though organised displays which people are encouraged to attend, charge and arm and a leg for 30 mins of fireworks which you can barely get anywhere near, and if you are lucky a measly hot dog or burger which are flabby and tepid!

Episode 33: Workday Woes! — November 3, 2014

Episode 33: Workday Woes!

Isn’t it horrid going back to work after a week off?!  It’s back to the early mornings, (I know I’m up early anyway, but at least I didn’t have to BE anywhere  last week),  restricted tea breaks, (this is the killer for me, at home I drink tea all day long) plus eating my lunch at 10am (well, I already had my breakfast at 6am), and then going for hours before dinner. .. (notice how my life revolves around food and drink)?!!

To add insult to injury, I was awake extra early this morning due to hearing a loud ‘BANG’ coming from the direction of the open window. The wind had picked up during the night and coupled with the lashing rain, made for pretty horrendous weather. The feeble roller blind was no match for this rogue weather and it was billowing back and forth in the wind like a yacht in full sail. Unfortunately Mr Grump has a lot of clutter on his windowsill, and the offending noise that woke me up was the sound of his aftershave being cruelly pushed off the precipice by the out-of control blind!

So there I was at 4.30 am wide awake. I slammed the window shut with a flourish, as Mr Grump snored blissfully on, totally undisturbed by any of the noise, and resentfully got myself ready for the day ahead. I woke Mr Grump up at the more reasonable time of 6am,  and chuckled to myself as he started moaning and whining about the foul weather, and how soaked he and the dog were going to get!  Never mind he’s got a waterproof coat, and the dog loves water!

As my car failed it’s MOT and is not roadworthy until the work is completed on it (ongoing saga), Mr Grump and poor old Miss Hap had to take me to work (This went down well with both of them, having been turfed out of bed extra early to accommodate me)!

Work as usual was busy, and of course it took me all of 5 minutes to get back into the swing of things, especially as half of my patients were still there! I have to say that by the end of my shift though I was tired (poor old girl, a bit of running around and I’m knackered)!

As I was leaving the ward I checked my phone and noticed Mr Grump had texted to say he was going to be late picking me up and suggested I go and have a coffee in the canteen. Great, I just wanted to get home, but I dutifully went to the canteen and bought some crisps as well as a drink (well I didn’t know how long he was going to be , and I was starving)!! I waited 15 mins .. no word..I texted him…not ready yet.. my friend who was  working a long day comes down to pharmacy which is through the canteen…”thought you’d gone home,” She was shocked to see me in there (I never hang around usually), “Just waiting for my husband” I smiled…

Ten minutes later she comes back through… “Still here, I will be going on break soon so might see you in a min”  No Way, I thought to myself.. Another 10 mins and FINALLY he phones. At last. I go outside to wait in the car park. It is lashing down with rain.. where is he?  Everyone is lighting up outside the back door where I am standing… I really want a cigarette..My friend from earlier comes out with two others going to the secret staff smoking place (the woods). I wave as they pass me, smiling through gritted teeth..Where the HELL is Mr Grump? When the smokers return from their illicit cigarette, we all try to avoid each other’s eye, me shrugging further into my coat, hood pulled low as we have exhausted all of the pleasantries.

I now phone Mr Grump in a rage, I’ve had enough. I don’t care that he has a job to do, or that he s good enough to come and pick me up from work, and who cares that the bloody traffic is bad because of the grotty weather, and the world and his wife have got their cars out? I am HUNGRY and TIRED, and that is not a good combination, and not only that, it is only Monday!

Episode 32: Middle-Aged Madness — November 2, 2014

Episode 32: Middle-Aged Madness

Grumpy
Image Courtesy of Pixabay

Today I am feeling decidedly middle-aged! It is not something that I really want to admit (especially to myself), but I am a whisker away from the half-century milestone. I can feel it’s malevolence reaching out to me, trying to drag me over to the ‘other side’ where youth is  a forgotten memory, and old age starts to creep into every pore, ready to assert its authority over my still-protesting mind and body…..

My husband, Mr Grump, has already metamorphosed into the moany, moody old git that comes with age (if you let it, and Mr Grump embraced it wholeheartedly). Oh, how he loves to complain! Mind you,  there is something to be said for it at times,(see, I knew I was getting old)!   We once had vouchers for a free meal as he had complained bitterly about the appalling service we had received, which was matched by the atrocious food, at a local restaurant chain. Having said that, we were  a little hesitant to use them in case there was a repeat performance!

Apart from the obvious wrinkles and middle-aged spread,(fair enough not everyone has middle-aged spread, but it has decided it wants to attach itself to me, and it’s a bugger to get rid of), I find that I am (God forbid), also  starting to get a bit crabby. Where has the laid back, easy-going person that I once was gone? Why has this moody, snappy, person invaded my body and  started influencing my mind? I know I am not the best of drivers, but why does everyone else on the road have to be such an idiot? People cutting you up or driving like maniacs, I have even been known to mutter the odd ” Dick head” or worse under my breath (I’m too much of a wimp to yell it directly at someone).

I was always so quiet and shy, and although I still don’t like to draw attention to myself much, I have marched over to a neighbour’s house complaining about some misdemeanour their offspring have done to my daughter (Miss Hap), only to be utterly shown up when it transpired that she had started it!

You would have thought that having an 11-year-old daughter would keep me young, but  no! I hate it when she plays her music too loud, (now I am even turning into my mother), I also don’t understand half of what she is saying with all the ‘street talk’ or slang. or whatever it is they speak!

I find myself reminiscing about ‘when I was young’ (that’s it, I am beyond hope now) and how much better everything was back then. It’s funny how memories become distorted over the years, I’m sure I wasn’t this perfect, well-behaved little angel that my memory portrays me as being!

I am going to try to fight this middle-aged monster that wants to consume me. I’m sure I could still do a cart-wheel (if there is a large enough space and an ambulance on standby)… I still scrub up reasonably well (if I have a good few hours free and a ton of Polyfilla handy), and as for being grumpy, (well Mr Grump has got the monopoly on that, and there is no way I could compete with him), it is only because other people don’t know how to drive/behave/etc.. nothing to do with me!

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