Rhyme and No Reason!

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

Episode 202: Spring into Action! — March 7, 2015

Episode 202: Spring into Action!

Ahhh, spring is in the air. I do so love the fleeting, tantalising glimpses of sunshine that have been coming out to play, off and on. I love the daffodils that are just starting to bud, breaking the monotony of the brown landscape that is all around (that reminds me to chuck out the daffodils in the vase on the kitchen window sill as they have gone a bit brown and crispy now)!

I love the fact that I might be able to hang my washing outside on the line, and see it waving gently in the breeze (I do hope the weather doesn’t change before the washing cycle ends) as opposed to hanging limply in the shade all day only to be wetter when I take it in than when I hung it out!

I can’t wait to be able to wear less clothes, and not have to bother taking a coat. (Well, that is always a risk in England, even during the height of summer). Mind you, summer clothes means more skin exposed, which also means, I hope this bloody diet kicks in soon, and the weight drops off (I wish), so that I am all slim and lovely in my pretty summer dresses.(I can’t expect miracles, I know)!

I am looking forward to Mr Grump planting all sorts of things for us enjoy over the summer. (Well the rhubarb takes care of itself, the herbs have all gone a bit wild and woody over the  winter, and pumpkins aren’t ready until the autumn!

He does so love to be pottering about in the garden; cursing and swearing as he tries to repair the fence (again) that has been swaying perilously during the winter, held up by popping heavy plant pots against it, and attaching one end to the shed with a carabiner. He loves the fact that the garden is slopey and therefore quite squidgy in places where it is waterlogged!

And for the big finale! The good old ‘Spring Clean’! Oh yes, this is the time of year that we all love. The poor house is quaking in its foundations at the thought of being strip-washed and exposed, whilst being scrubbed, polished and buffed into submission!

Ahh yes, I love the spring!

Episode 77: Another Little Bit of Dirt Never Killed Anybody… — December 16, 2014

Episode 77: Another Little Bit of Dirt Never Killed Anybody…

Further the post I wrote in Episode 64, my younger sister reminded me of a story that I had forgotten to include, and although it is pretty stomach-churning, it did make me laugh so here it is….

Mum had made a corned-beef hash, which although we didn’t have very often we were looking forward to. Anyway she had left it to cool off on the worktop for a little while. As she was about to dish up she suddenly screeched,

“Where’s me teeth”? She had this little plastic plate with 4 or 5 false teeth on which she used to take out now and again when they started to chafe, and they would sit on the table or window sill, wrapped in a tissue until she needed them to eat! My sister and I searched the kitchen without success, We couldn’t understand where they had gone As a last resort we decided to check the corned-beef hash, as it was not unusual for a bit of fag ash to land up in the food so why not a denture!

As it happened, the teeth were not in the hash, but the obligatory ants were! Yes, they had found their way into the hash that had been left uncovered, and had dived on in! Yuk! That was yet another meal that had no takers, fussy as we all were! Oh, and Mum’s teeth turned up in the kitchen rubbish bin! As a last resort we went through it, and there they were in a soggy filthy tissue, buried beneath tea bags, potato peelings and other assorted nasties. Mum was thrilled, a quick rinse under the tap, and she popped them back into place!

My nephew when he was young, also shared my mum’s casual attitude to dirt and used to love grubbing about in the mud as most kids do, However he liked to pick up slugs and worms as I think he liked their slimy feel. He wanted to share his treasures with the rest of us and would very often come up with us, hand outstretched grasping a writhing creature and say,

” Lug!”  he hadn’t mastered how to pronounce his S’s yet, bless him. Myself and my sisters would recoil when he brought the slugs to us for inspection, and would try to swallow the scream, force a smile and tell him how lovely it was. He would amuse himself for some time playing in the dirt, making mud pies, and decorating them with the slugs and worms, singing away happily.

After a while he came up to us again

“Lug!” Only this time there was only a little bit of slug in this podgy little hand; not only that but he looked a bit mucky around the mouth. Yep, he had decided to taste his mud pies, but must have found them rather filling as he couldn’t manage a whole slug! It’s nice to know he has inherited the strong family constitution!

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