Today’s video poem is about music; how it can transform your mood and transport you to another place and time.
If you enjoyed those poems, and have time for a cuppa then you might like to check out my book Rhymes of the Times. It has many more poems like this and is perfect for dipping in and out of when you fancy a little pick-me-up.
Click here to be taken to my author page where you can purchase the book.
I have been pretty negative about the process of aging recently, as you can see here and how I am starting to feel (not to mention look) old. I have decided that there must be some positives to being older, and here are a few things that I have noticed….
You can say what you ‘bloody well like’, in the words of my 85-year-old mother! Yes, once you reach a ripe old age you have earned the right to say what you like about anything; regardless of whether or not it causes offence or hurts anyone’s feelings. I have been in the supermarket with Mum when she has told the assistant on the deli counter that she ‘doesn’t want that plastic ham’ or she’s ‘not paying that much for a bit of cheese’ etc. They can’t decide whether or not she is joking but soon get the message when she turns on her heel and just stomps (well hobbles nowadays unfortunately) off! I. or my sisters (whoever has the pleasure of being with her) are left cringing in her wake, rolling our eyes at the bewildered assistant.
She likes to say what she thinks about members of the family too. Either directly, once she told me that a trouser suit I had bought would look better on my sister as ‘she has got the figure for it’. Very true, but I was gutted, and never wore it again! Or indirectly, as in when someone has left the room and before they are even out of earshot she will remark about how much weight they have ‘piled on’ or how awful their outfit is!
Another advantage is selective hearing. This can come in very handy when you don’t want to do something. For example, my Mum hates putting her heating on, and would rather sit there shivering under a blanket than be nice and cosy in a warm room. So when any of us walk in to her little icebox, the conversation goes something like this.
“Why haven’t you got your heating on?”
“What?”
” I SAID, WHY HAVEN’T YOU GOT YOUR HEATING ON?”
“I cant’ hear a bloody word you are saying!”
Leaning over and bellowing in her ear,
“WHY IS THE HEATING NOT ON?!”
” Can you put my hearing aid in, it’s over there?”
By now, I have lost the will to go on, but will dutifully get the hearing aid which is whistling and shrieking, and put it in for her, and then just go and turn the heating on myself. It’s easier.
However, if I had whispered to my sister a bit of gossip about someone, she would have heard that and put her two penn’orth in!
When you are older, and supposedly wiser, you are an asset to any quiz team! There are always questions about the old days. Games like Trivial Pursuit and other question based games normally require a good range of general knowledge, and of historical events.It stands to reason that n older person on the team is a bonus (providing they have their hearing aids in, of course)!
You can dress with abandon, wearing whatever you like in whatever colour combinations you choose when you are older. Who cares about being colour co-ordinated any more. Many elderly people I have encountered (which amounts to quite a few), are very uninhibited in their dress sense. Why shouldn’t you wear reds, green and blues ALL at the same time! Who gives a toss about what others think?!!
You can nod off at the drop of a hat. Think Grandpa Simpson here, and his amazing ability to fall asleep, even mid-sentence! Yes, when you are older,nobody thinks it odd if you fall asleep at inappropriate times. How great is that? If you have a social function that you are obligated to go to but are not keen, it doesn’t matter! You can just have a snooze whenever you want and no-one will think you are rude. Far from it, they will probably think you are very sweet and endearing!
Those are just a few of the benefits I have come up with to being older…. are there any I have missed?
Linda’s prompt word for this week’s Stream of Consciousness post is season. We can use it however we wish (even adding a suffix to it) and get bonus points for starting and ending with a season or seasoning. Oh, and a picture gets even more bonus points!
Autumn is well and truly settling in we have had all kinds of weather, ranging from unseasonably warm days and days like today which are cold and blustery. (I think storm Brian is popping in and out just to keep us on our toes)!
I feel that every season has something to offer. Autumn with its beautiful reds and golds, crisp mornings and chilly evenings. Of course, there is also Halloween with the kids dressing up and houses decorated in all sorts of spooky ways. Then it is Guy Fawkes night and the sky will be lit up in all kinds of colours as fireworks whizz and pop into life. Hopefully, the skies will be clear so that people can enjoy them.
Winter is burrowing in time! Wrapped in a blanket on the settee with fleecy pyjamas and thick socks, then getting then having a hot flush! Dark nights and mornings mean wanting to stay in bed where it is warm and cosy. Hearty, filling meals like stews, and casseroles, stodgy puddings, crumbles and custard, and large mugs of hot chocolate or milky coffee. Ahhhhh, I can dream of all those delicious calories waiting to be consumed! If we are lucky (or unlucky if you have to drive in it), we might even get a bit of snow. Such fun for the kids as inevitably, the schools will shut down, there will be chaos on the roads and the trains will not be able to cope with ‘the wrong kind of snow.’
Spring is always so welcome to me, the lighter evenings, warmer weather that is not sweltering, just pleasant. The flowers poking their heads up above ground to see what is going on, bluebells in the woods, blossom on the trees, birds singing, digging out the shorts and t-shirts only for it to suddenly turn arctic!
Lastly, the beautiful summer, blue skies, hot sunshine, beaches, barbecues and loads of daylight. Of course, it also means, suntan lotion, insect bites, dragging the fan out of the loft, chucking the duvet off the bed, and moaning about the heat!
Yes, each one has something to offer, but being British, I also love to moan about the seasons!
I read a post a short time ago by the wonderful Debby where she used a writing prompt from a journal she bought. This inspired me to buy my own but on a totally different subject (mine is all about cultivating joy and well-being).
The prompt for yesterday was to write a joke. Hmmm, I am not good at jokes, unless they are very rude or very silly. I love the ‘knock knock’ jokes, and the ‘what do you call?’ ones. As in:
‘What do you call a man with a shovel on his head?’ Answer: Doug!
‘What do you call a man without a shovel on his head?’ Answer: Douglas!! (it’s all in the pronunciation)!
I won’t bore you with any others as they are really old jokes and not that funny unless you are me, who finds them hilarious!
Anyway, I decided that as I couldn’t tell any jokes I would talk a little about British humour instead.
The first thing that springs to mind is the fact that we love innuendo, double entendre, and a good pun (or even a bad pun, anything goes)! The ‘Carry On Films’ are a veritable feast if you like that kind of thing, with their silly storylines, and crazy character names such as a surgeon named Dr Carver, and a young doctor called Dr Nookey ( a British euphemism for sex). I’m thinking this must have had an early subconscious influence on my choice of career! They always had such fun in the hospitals in these films.
The Sun Newspaper loves puns and innuendoes too, and they have had some famous (or infamous) headlines over the years. For example, when Elton John and David Furnish married, their headline was ‘Elton Takes David Up The Aisle’ and ‘How Do You Solve A Problem Like Korea’ which needs no explanation!
Sarcasm features pretty heavily in our humour armoury too and it is always appreciated whenever we hear it. Comments like’ I’m returning your nose, dear, I found it in my business’ and one (of many) from Winston Churchill ‘ I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly!’ Another favourite is when parents say things like, ‘I think you have forgotten to put a skirt on’ or ‘can you plaster on any more makeup?’ to their teenaged daughters when they are going out!
This can get a bit confusing though as sometimes we say something straight-faced but mean the exact opposite, such as ‘Oh, lovely’ it’s raining again, I can’t wait to go out in it!’ or even worse. ‘Yes, green is definitely your colour’ when it is obvious that it looks hideous!Mind you, it could be worse if they went the whole hog and said that ‘green is definitely your colour, it matches your complexion!’
One of my favourite types of humour is the observational kind. We have several comedians who are brilliant at this, Michael McIntyre and Peter Kaye are so good at turning the ordinary situations into massive belly laughs!
We have a fixation about class too, and that often comes out in our humour. There was a famous Monty Python Sketch that they showed us at Uni about the British Class system which you can see here.
I suppose our most common type of humour is the self-deprecating type, of the hapless idiot always messing things up. We do love to put ourselves down, then have a major complex if anyone agrees with us. What a mixed-up lot we are!
I hope I have managed to give you some laughs despite the rubbish jokes at the beginning!
As some of you may know, in my quest for a healthier lifestyle, I have decided to take matters in hand, and embark on losing weight and getting fit. I wrote about my experience last week when I went for the induction at the gym and how I didn’t even get to go on any of the equipment here,
[clickToTweet tweet=”Then the next disastrous episode when I ended up coming home minus my hairbrush and water bottle #loser” quote=”Then the next disastrous episode when I ended up coming home minus my hairbrush and water bottle,”] not to mention my pride which you can read about here.
I had still been all fired up with enthusiasm during last week, and did my best to eat some tasty and healthy meals cooked from scratch, some of which I even made myself!
Then along came Saturday; I woke up feeling a bit grotty and throaty. I was worried that I might be coming down with the awful cold that had been doing the rounds which I could not get away from. Mt Grump and Miss Hap both had it as well as some of my fellow Uni students.
My sister and her husband had invited us around to play a ‘Beat the Into’ game which is just sort of thing that I enjoy. I am pretty good on music that is decades old, as I might have mentioned before. Anyway, there were going to be snacks, and she told me that there was some special stuff for me due to me watching what I was eating.
I gorged on everything! Yes, I have no self-control when there are goodies to be had. I put it down to me feeling rough which worsened as the night wore on, despite us having such a laugh playing the game.
Sunday I was in the throes of a full-blown cold and sore throat, but that did not deter me from eating the ‘wrong foods.’ I needed white bread toast to scratch my throat as it went down for some relief. I had to make myself feel better by eating the type of comfort food that I am trying to avoid.
I was not as bad as I could have been; no chocolate or stodgy meat puddings, but not the lean, healthy, low-fat food I should have been eating. Add to that the stress of a test on Human Anatomy and Physiology which I could barely concentrate on to revise without a bit of ‘brain food’ and you can guess where this is heading!
Thursday I got weight and had put on a kilo. Bugger! It was not good, but at least I was starting to feel better and was getting back on track. Today I went to the gym as I had a quick meeting with my instructor to see how I had been getting on.
That was a bit embarrassing as I hadn’t even been since last week as I felt too rough! Anyway, just before I went, I found the hairbrush I thought I had lost last week, which was tucked into one of my trainers, so that was a result!
The only problem was, where was my white Superdry hoodie? Nowhere to be found, so it seemed. Mr Grump dropped me off, and this week there was no bag, just a water bottle ( a new one), towel and phone.
I got the card activated and just enquired about my water bottle and hoodie by chance, and as luck would have it, the hoodie had been handed in. How the hell could I have lost that, as it is not exactly small?!
Anyway, I dug out my programme and sat on the bike ready for my workout. I couldn’t get the bloody thing to work. After pressing all the buttons and getting the tv to work (not much good with no headphones), there was still no details that I wanted such as the time and levels etc.
Looking around for someone to help, perched on the bike, a friend walked past with her daughter, both of whom work at the hospital where I used to work. After a greeting and a hug, me still perched on the bike, I asked them if they knew how to do it but no luck. I got off it and went to the one next to it.
I finally got that to go and gave my friend the thumbs up sign as she came past again to leave!! Everything else went ok until it was time for the dreaded rowing machine! There is a bit of mutual hatred going on there. It punishes me dreadfully, and today I tried hard to master it and get the workout done as soon as I could.
I got cramp in my stomach! I had barely done 500m and cramp set in so; I tried nonchalantly to get off and stretch a bit despite being out of breath and my stomach tying itself up in knots.
I talked to the instructor about it, and after eyeing my rather sizeable stomach, she decided that perhaps I should have some extra time on the treadmill in future for a while and cut out the rowing machine.
So this visit, at least I gained things as well as lost them,1kg, extra time on the treadmill and my hoodie were gained, and I lost the rowing machine from my programme until I get a bit fitter!!! At least I came home with everything I went with this time and more.
Today’s video poem is all about a good old gossip, or tittle-tattle if you prefer. Whether it be over the garden fence with a neighbour, or by the photocopier in the office, many of us have indulged in it at some time or another.
If you enjoyed those poems, and have time for a cuppa then you might like to check out my book Rhymes of the Times. It has many more poems like this and is perfect for dipping in and out of when you fancy a little pick-me-up.
Click here to be taken to my author page where you can purchase the book.
Further the post I wrote here, 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!
A bit of reminiscing….
I received a phone call from my daughter one day during her lunch break at school to let me know that there was a Craft Fair on Friday at school and “you have got to make some gingerbread men biscuits”. Oh great! Well, I have to give her credit for telling me a little in advance, normally it is at bedtime the night before she has to take something home-made into school. (I know some supermarkets do a lovely range of ‘home-made’ cakes etc. but it does seem a bit naughty to do that; however needs must, and I have done it in the past)!
Anyway, as it was my day off today, and not only did I have the ingredients (and more importantly the recipe) for the gingers, but I enjoy making them (along with mince pies, that is about my festive repartee). I had already made the dough, and while that was ‘chilling’ in the fridge, I had a bit of time to myself to reflect on how different I am from my mum in the kitchen. I was thinking about Mum and what a fantastic cook she is, although nowadays she doesn’t bake so much. However, in her baking heyday, some of her practices in the kitchen left a little to be desired.
Two funny stories come to mind. The first one was when mum was making her famous ‘rock cakes’. Now, they were not ALWAYS as hard as a rock as the name implies, and she put currants or something in them as well, so they were quite tasty for a Sunday afternoon tea. This particular day she made the cakes with her usual method, chucking a bit of this in, sprinkling in a pinch of that, then a dollop of something else for good measure. Once cooked they looked lovely and golden brown and she turned them out onto the wire rack to cool for a bit.
My younger sister and I were there when she decided to have a little ‘taster’, and she bit off a huge chunk from a cake.
“Mmmm these are lovely” (Self-recommendation is no praise, but Mum was proud of her cooking). As I looked up at Mum I was horrified; there were loads of ants crawling around her mouth, my sister had noticed as well. We were screeching and pointing, but Mum had realised something was not right, and she rushed over to the sink to spit out the cake and brush away the ants that she had not ingested! It transpired that Mum’s wire rack kept in the little alcove under the kitchen sink hadn’t been washed it (how the hell she didn’t notice the ants all over it is anybody’s guess)! Well, we went cakeless, and had something else!
The other occasion was a dinner Mum was cooking for the family. She had made a gorgeous stew and was preparing the dumplings to go with it, which she cooked in the pot with the stew. She went to one of the cupboards and got out her little box where she kept, her margarine, butter and lard. Anyway, she made the dumplings, but as I watched her, I said that they didn’t look right (Mrs Expert Chef poking her nose in)! She took no notice of me, and half an hour later we all sat down for our lovely dinner.
I took one mouthful of dumpling, and the rank taste hit me; the dumpling was expelled straight away as I retched and heaved. Some of the others followed suit, but the slow starters sat there stunned; dinner was ruined. That fat she used had been sitting opened in the packet for God knows how long, and was well and truly off! Mum told us to eat the stew anyway just leave the dumplings, but everyone’s appetite had suddenly disappeared!
I remember those two occasions so well, as my Mum never understood why we all made such a fuss about everything being clean, or that food was not past its ‘sell-by date’! I and some of my brothers and sisters used to go through the fridge and cupboards, and sure enough, there were tins there from 5 years previously. (‘tins last forever’), bottles where the date had rubbed off, or perhaps even before they dated foods, unwrapped food in the fridge, cooked and raw meat stored next to each other, and condiments that must have come from the Ark! Anything that was in the refrigerator was edible according to mum regardless of how long it had been in there!
I suppose growing up when food was rationed, they were not so picky about what they ate, being grateful to have anything. Also, I have seen her trying to sneak an errant spud in the roasting tin that had fallen on the floor when she strained them in the pan. Again, anything that went on the ground got either rinsed or brushed off and put on the plate! After all,
“A little bit of dirt never killed anyone.”
and my siblings and I have the cast iron stomachs to prove it!
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