Tales from Clippy Mat

QUICK! tidy up

2012-01-23T20:32:00.001-05:00

company's coming over.
would you believe it?

my nephew's wife in the uk, a lovely lass called Nikki, was recently told on Facebook about my blog by an unsuspecting relative.
unsuspecting in that he doesn't know that i don't tell ANYONE about my blog.
especially NOT people on FB.
otherwise my work colleagues would know and it wouldn't be too hard for them to troll thru older posts and find less than flattering anecdotes about themselves and their colleagues would it?
that would NOT do.
then what would i do as an outlet?
one has got to have one's secrets hasn't one?

my unsuspecting releative, aka husband's cousin's daughter's husband, made a passing remark to Nikki about MY blog, after MY comment today that HER updates on FB are so funny that SHE should blog about her life and times.
(it would be immensely readable.)

he mentioned that "pat", aka yours truly, "knew about blogging because she has a blog which is easy to find if you google 'clippy mat'".

SCREAM!!!

"?"
was her response.

so i've had to come clean.
and now guess what?
she's only going to come and visit tomorrow isn't she?
so let's see, let's do a bit of damage control before she gets here.
right now she'll be in bed as it's almost 1.30 in the UK.
that's in the a.m.
time is of the essence.
make haste to make a good impression and hope that she won't see thru the facade.

let's pretend that the last posts i posted, ALL the way back in november, when i was seriously full of good intentions about nablowhatsit and blogging every day for that month, and which turned out to be co-authored by my pet fish (!) were a lot funnier than they were.
not sure how to give that impression, and i've even thought of deleting them but what the hell.
i liked them at the time.

hopefully she won't notice that there's been nothing written since then.
perhaps she'll go back thru some old posts and find the odd one to raise a smile.
'tis my only hope.

wouldn't want her to pop in and find us all neglected and abandoned would we?
"call THIS a blog?" she might well be inclined to say when she gets here.

can't have that.

SO shift yourself off that chair there and plump those cushions.
and
take those dirty dishes off the table and put them in the dishwasher and get those plants watered and don't forget to gather up the newspapers and magazines from every surface and recycle them for gawd's sake.
Jeebus! are they CUP RING STAINS on that table?
what the hell?
get a damp cloth at once!

and OPEN the blinds would you and let a bit light in.
what will she think if she comes here and sees that DUST!!?
STOP!!
DO NOT write your name in it.

right, we've got a few hours till she gets here as she's in england as i say and fast asleep as we speak.
but i happen to know she's a very early riser.
so look sharp.

light a few scented candles and plug in one of them airfreshner thingies.
sit up straight.
and just smile and nod when she comes by.

hopefully she won't stay too long.

frank's theory of time, energy, inertia and velocity.

2011-11-06T08:56:00.000-05:00

Hey, clocks went back last night Frank.

yeah? in my timeless existence clocks are meaningless. it's just tardis man.

tardis frank?

Time and Relative Dimensions in Space man.

spaceman? oh right. tho' you do have a natural rhythmn to your existence frank.

i do?

yes, well when i leave the room at the end of the day i turn the light out and...

leave me in the dark?

yes. well that means it's night time and it's time to..

sleep?

well, rest. yes.

rest? man you aint very observant, you know what i'm sayin'? when have you ever seen me do the opposite of rest?

well you do lead a pretty static sort of life frank, now that you mention it. i haven't observed you moving much since i've been sat here.,

dude, i..

DUDE? really frank. do i look like a dude to you?

it's a term of endearment man.

well for that matter im not a man either frank. but point taken. if it's used in that frame of reference then i can't object.

as i was sayin'...

go on frank. i'm all ears. which you're not are you frank?

i'm not what?

all ears frank. ha ha ha. i'm just making a joke there.

yeah? you think so? pardon me for not doubling up there dude. i never had no need for no ears iffen you must know. already told you i'm an intuitive thinker and communicate telepathically. ears'd be redundant man. you should know that.

i suppose so. well anyway we were talking about your static existence frank. it's what you're doing now. just 'hanging' there and looking at me. you know you spend a lot of time just hanging, suspended in space as it were.

as it were? that's exactly what it IS man. it's a higher level of functioning if you must know. all movement ceases and i just AM. i've made the need for movement redundant. i think therefore i am dude. so i can just BE you know? no need for frantically darting around all over the bowl man. it's like unnecessary.

oh i see. like when i meditate.

no, not like when YOU meditate. because when you 'meditate' you're watching TV and that's just not how it's done man.
WHOAH! Holy Mothers Salacia and Anphratite!

who frank?

Goddesses of the sea man. WHAT WAS THAT? an earthquake?

oh sorry frank, i was just adjusting your bamboo shoot, it had sort of come unlodged from the stones at the bottom. they hold it up.

Dude! let me know when you're going to do that next time, it freaked me out. i felt the earth move man.

did you frank? you know, you looked quite spetacular when you did that loop de loop so suddenly, and you got round that bowl 3 times in as many seconds. very impressive.

d'you do that on purpose?

on "porpoise" frank?

you're doing "air quotes" now?
Holy Neptune, that extra hour of sleep didn't do nuthin' for your comedic talents there dude.

frank takes charge

2011-11-04T22:53:00.001-04:00

hey frank
hey. how YOU doin'?
ok, you?
oh, you know.
who's posting on the blog today frank? me or you?
well i guess i can do it, iffen you want.
suits me, i'm busy playing scrabble o...
on facebook?
on facebook, yeah. i've got four games going at...
at once?
yeah at once. i'm getting ..
addicted?
yeah, i'm getting addicted. but my scores are..
dreadful?
yeah dreadful. i get my ass kicked ....
regularly?
yeah regularly. frank? er do you mind not....
finishing your sentences?
yeah, finishing my sentences. it can be..
annoying?
yeah annoying frank. what's with ...
with that?
yeah, what's with that?
i dunno it's just that i'm so much on your wavelength i kinda know what you're going to say before you even say it.,
you're like ...
sympatico with you?
yeah frank you and me, we're sympatico. but frank, that's weird because i'm not actually .....
saying anything?
yeah, saying anything. i'm only thinking these things and you're on my ....
on your wavelength?
yeah, my wavelength how'd you .....
how'd i do that?
yeah, frank what is this, how'd you do it?
i dunno, it's a gift. i'm psychic. i'm like the seventh son of the seventh son or somethin'. i'd explain it, but mind that time i tried tellin' you whut the fibinacci sequence was all about?
oh right the fibonacci ....
sequence yeah. remember The Rule is x_n = x_n-1 + x_n-2
er yeah, i do frank. my brain still hurts thinking about that. it's really just...
amazing?
yeah frank it's pretty amazing. you're psychic frank?you're a fish. a psychic....
a psychic fish? i know. it's just how i am. allus been that way man as longus i can 'member. it's what i'm known fur.
where are you.....
where am i known for it?
yeah. where frank?
oh in former circles that i swam in.
really?
yeah i'm psychic and i'm also gifted with telepathy.
frank, how's that .....
possible?
yeah how's that happen?
i'm not sure but it's not only a gift it's a curse, let me tell ya.
but since i been here it's kinda come in handy cos we can communicate without you lookin' crazy.
frank why would i look....
why'd you look crazy?
yeah. why?
cos iffen you was talkin' to a fish out loud people would think you wus crazy. know what i'm sayin'?
oh i see. well it's a good job that it's only the two....
the two of us that know about this?
yeah frank. it's just the two of us.
yeah. it's probly best that way.
so.......
so i hear the scrabble tiles rattling. you got the post for today then frank?
yeah sure no problem. i got it.
good frank.
i jes done it while we wus talkin'.
frank you are a ..
genius?
yeah frank you are a genius.
yeah it's a curse man.

Frank's Rebuttal

2011-11-03T00:15:00.001-04:00

hey.
frank here.
the beta fish, siamese fightin' fish? whatever you wanna call me.
i ain't that fussy to be honest man.
how YOU doin?
okay technically the real name's goldy but man, i just can't bring myself to answer to that.
that aint no kinda name for a fish.
unless you're a goldfish.
which i'm not.
yesterday she wrote a post about me.
i suppose she thought i'd be grateful.
seriously?
life's been hard enough without this unwanted publicity.
it's going to be like living in a goldfish bowl.
what?
oh.
right.

thought i'd give you the gen on living up here on the kitchen table from MY perspective.
seems fair?
first off, i ain't bored.
just so's you know,
i live a full, varied and extremely interesting life i'll have you know.
and i don't need no company thank you very glad.

truth is, before i came here i lived on a shelf in Petsmart for a while.
i lived with a couple of other guys in a 12 by 8 and things got kinda heated after a while,
it's just the nature of the beast man.
think it was about a dame or something, and the one guy, he's all fired up at me with rage, or jealousy, or something,
because all of a sudden, he just comes at me, all fins blazing and stuff and he sorta leaped in the air and before i could even react he'd sorta misjudged his, well his reach, and well, he missed me and landed right outside the bowl.
we had to watch him heave and pant and thrash around on the shelf for a coupla minutes.
that wasn't pretty.
then this other guy who lived in there with us.
i never really knew him that well i gotta be honest with you.
he was like the 'friend' of the crazy guy.
(that's what they called themselves anyway, 'friends')
whatever.
live and let live i say, not my business.

so, he was like the friend of the one that jumped over the edge, well all of a sudden he comes at me next in a mad fit of revenge or something.
he's got like his fins up and his eyes are just staring like all popped out man, and he's all like 'da-da da- da DA-DA-DA', you know like the music from that movie, 'sharks'?
yeah, he was even singing that as he came at me.

well i waited till he got in real close,
i was like, bring it brother, you wanna piece o' me?
but i didn't say anything i just leaned back and looked right at him,
not backing down or moving or nothin',
and just when he thought he was going to butt me or whatever he thought he was going to do,
that's when i used the element of surprise.

i'm fast man, he underestimated my speed.
that's a big mistake.
stupid mistake in fact.
i just, BAM! right up in HIS face
and i bit him.
bit his head nearly right off.
hey, it was self defense right.

after that, they brought in a net to scoop him outa there and i just retreated to the rear of the tank, and swum low like, near the bottom.
it was like, respect man, you know?
you gotta respect a dude that just goes all out like that,
even when it doesn't work in his favour,
but hey the guy went for it man.
so,
it was just me for a coupla hours.
then they came and put this female in with me.
she was all like glamorous and all and i admit at first i was like, 'whoa'.
but i guess she'd kinda heard about my rep and stuff, it got around in there,
and she wouldn't have nothin' to do with me.
whatever right?

think she was like a friend or relative of one of them other 2 guys, not sure.
hey, she wasn't even my type anyway.
i wasn't even that bothered to be truthful with ya.

so it was kinda cool in there.
atmosphere wise.
guess she thought i'd make a play for her at some point, but man, i'm just not into the drama you know?
all that aggression and violence, it'd just left me cold, you know?
so,
we hung out in separate shells.
well actually she was in a diving bell and i sort of stayed behind a giant snail.
not a real snail but good camouflage anyway.
we never really did hit it off tho' who knows, if things had've been different?
and then she got her eye on another dude and well she used to just stare at him in his tank all day.

but it got to me, you know?
i'm only human.
what?
oh.
okay i'm not human but i'm only ....
actually, what am i?
i don't even know.
but the thing is, i ain't unhappy.
i'm content now.
i got what i want right here.
i got my own place.
a nice bowl man, right here on the kitchen table.
ain't nobody gettin' up in my face or making moves, you know what' i'm sayin?
two squares a day and all found.
and no hassles man.
i got my own bamboo stalk in here, gives off aeration or oxygen or something cool like that,
scientific like and everything.
and i got my own blue stones in the bottom of the pad.
i got a turtle thing that's kinda relaxing to look at.
he aint real but then he don't eat any meat either, you know what i'm sayin'?
i got this huge (fake) fish with a big mouth.
i don't actually do anything with him.
i don't hide out inside him or anything like that, but that's what he's for.
i know that.
i'm just not into that sorta thing.
hiding out's not really my thing.
i'm out there, you know?
i'm a loner really.
it's just the way i am man.
i been around the block, know what i'm sayin'?
i feel like it's just best now if i'm on my own.
so,
okay,
just pay me no never mind y'know what i'm sayin'?
don't pity me okay.
i'm doing good.
it's all good.

you have yourself a nice day now, y' hear?

a fish without a 'porpoise'

2011-11-02T07:59:00.000-04:00

i would get therapy if i had more time.
but i don't.

so to soothe the savage breast i'd heard that a fish tank can be very therapeutic.

so i bought a fish.
he's blue and he's a betta.
a betta fish than yours.
har har.
he lives in a bowl because a tank seemed too extravagant for one little fella.
he's called "goldy".
my suggestion was to call him frank.
as i thought that frank the fish had a nice ring to it.
and he's anything but gold.
but i was overruled by a 5yr old with very firm ideas on fish names.
so goldy it is.

the thing is that goldy's bowl sits on the kitchen table so that i can look at him when i eat or sit to read the paper.
we can keep each other company.
i didn't want him to feel alone.
he swims to the side and peers through the glass at me when i approach.
he looks almost hopeful.
briefly.

but
goldy makes me sad.
he has such a solitary and monotonous routine.
there's nowhere to go and never a change of scene.
and already i can't stand to look at him too much because he just has such a depressing existence.
when he looks at me with a knowing blink.
as if to say,
this is it?
is THIS all there is?

i cleaned his bowl earlier because, between you and me, it gets pretty stinky.
i washed his little blue stones and cleaned out the big yellow fish which was supposed to be somewhere he could go and hide when he needed privacy.
he's never once gone in it.
i've never even seen him look in it.
unless,
maybe he goes in there when i'm not here.
maybe when i'm at work he goes in there.
hangs out in the back and just chills perhaps.
and feels safe and secure.
and even
content.
but
i don't really believe that.

i washed his little green turtle too, and put that back and then returned his lone, long bamboo stalk to its rightful place.
and then i put frank, i mean goldy, back in his home.
he did a completely frantic, panicked sort of loop de loop around the bowl.
from top to bottom in as frenzied a swim as i'd ever seen.
it was quite impressive.
i thought he was excited to be home.
'cos he'd been waiting patiently in a little container with air holes in the lid.
the one he came home from the pet store in.

i dropped in his 2nd feed of the day.
a pinch of rank smelling pellets.
and he ate one or two and then let the rest float slo-o-o-wly to the bottom of the bowl.

then i sat down across the table from him to read the paper.
i could've went in the living room and sat comfortably but
well
i didn't want to leave him on his own till i was certain he'd settled in again.

and when i looked up again, frank, i mean goldy, was just,
well he was just in a holding pattern.
not swimming, not moving even,
but just looking right at me.
his little face about as close to the glass as it could possibly get.
when i moved my hand towards the bowl
he moved his tail in response.
it's just the saddest thing.
poor frank, i mean goldy.

what a life.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...... isn't it?

2011-11-01T01:00:00.004-04:00

NOVEMBER!
yaaaaayyy for November.
why?
because it's nablowotsit, that's why.
and we all know what that means don't we?
?
it means that everybody has to blog every day.
EVERYbody!
EVERY day during the month of november.

why?

i don't know why, do i?
somebody invented it and you HAVE to do it.
it's compulsory or something.

i was just mulling the idea over of being more consistent in the blogging department, when somebody, who shall remain nameless, but whose name is mark and who blogs over here, asked me if i was going to blog in november?

so how'd he know that i was even thinking about it?

is he a long distance mind reader?
or
?
maybe....
sometimes i mistrust this little web cam that's on top of my computer here.
when i'm not using it i turn it to face the wall behind it.
just in case.
well everybody does that right?
right?
but every now and again i come into the room and the little green light's shining.
and it's pointing right at me.
!
weeeeeiiiirrrrrd.
or what?
and how do i know that when i'm sat here ~~picking my nose~~ posting on Facebook, or reading emails,
that someone's not watching me.
like Big Brother
or even
his little brother?
who knows?

but anyway welcome to november and my daily blog.
theres going to be giveaways, prizes, fun, laughs, anecdotes, jokes and a few tears.
well perhaps not quite.
well okay, not even close.
but i will try to write something.
every day.
ok well probably every OTHER day,
or,
most likely twice a week

well i shall do my best.
just dont pressure me.
________________________________________________________________________
p.s. why in the last few sentences have my apostrophes turned to this è and why have my question marks turned to thisÉ
i think iève made an error and hit the wrong key on the keyboard and caused this to happen, and i donèt know how to turn it off.
so can you just add your own as you read along please and thank you
if you could just punctuate my contractions with your own apostrophes i would really appreciate it.
ièd have put them in myself but you can see how thatèd confuse you even more canèt youÉ

I love to go a wandering.....

2011-09-24T00:33:00.002-04:00

we went to england this summer.

during our visit we went to the lake district for a few days for some R and R.

and we all know what r and r stands for.

don't we?

rest and relaxation?

you might have thought so.

when we were packing our cases before the trip my other half asked me if i was putting in some good outdoor shoes for walking tours in the lake district?

i did not answer in the affirmative.
because
a) putting in good outdoor shoes would mean taking out some frivolous heels or sandals
and
2) i don't have any good outdoor shoes
and, he wondered, what was i packing to wear in the event of rain?
because it ALWAYS rains in the lake district.
again, i ignored him because, basically, i wasn't planning on getting wet.

so orf we went on our jollies.
and had a rare old time.
then we ended our trip by going to the lakes with my sister and her other half and we stayed in a lovely little but n ben in a lovely place called portinscale

as i said i hadn't planned on being outdoorsy.
it's not really me.
i pictured myself in front of roaring fires at night, full english brekkies in the a.m.'s,
pub lunches at lunch times and fortifying ales and meals in good hotels at night.
i was taking books to read and magazines for the in between times.
aahhh bliss.

but have you met my husband?
have you met my sister and her other half?
not to mention my brother and HIS other half who also came to visit us while we were there and agreed with t'others, (i wasn't consulted) that the day should begin with a good long walk around derwentwater.
that's a lake to me and you.
i looked out the window and it was damp and drizzly.
i'd just finished a good plate of breakfast and was ready to have a wee sit and perhaps a nice coffee whilst i thumbed through the magazines.

rewind to the previous week when my other half had insisted i buy a jacket (waterproof) and shoes (sturdy and supportive) in some kind of outdoorsy shop catering to people who like to walk in the lake district!
so i was kitted out.
and had no choice in the matter.
we set off up hill and the other members of the 'team' pointed to the top of what looked to me a small mountain, something called catbells which they'd all walked up one side and down the other at one time or another.
well guess what?
not today people.
not today.
anyway. i fell in and kept step as we walked.
and walked.
and walked some more.
up hill, down dale, over meadow, across glades, through trees, past cows, more cows and lots of sheep!
and guess what?
we walked for miles.
and miles.
of course it was bloody marvelous and i loved it.
and i want to do it again.
but guess what?
i left my brand new jacket in the luggage bin above my seat on the plane.
but i did manage to bring my good, strong, sturdy shoes back with me.
i loved being with my sis and my bro.
and my sis in law and my bro in law
and not forgetting my other half.
who really is, my other half.
i loved every bit of it.
and now that i'm back here in canada.
i wish that i could do it all again.

this was BEFORE the 20K hike

The "team" midway during the hike

me and me little sista contemplate the scenery and the meaning of life

this was at the start of the hike

this was what we went to see!

and this is what i looked like when we got back.

Sail on....

2011-09-05T17:58:00.000-04:00

life has been so exciting and hectic here for the last ~~5 or 6~~ well OK, nearly 9 months, that i haven't had a minute to post anything.

!
i will pause, giving you time to digest that information.

OK i just needed an opener.

i've had a very busy summer (by way of changing topics).
but tomorrow i shall go back to work.
because i must.
well all good things etc etc.

moving right along -
yesterday i went on a nice day out with a bunch of old friends.
one of these friends arranged tickets to go on a boat cruise around Toronto.
a tall ship in fact.
what fun!
then we found out that a local club was organzing a bus trip up there for the same cruise so we said we'd go on that and we wouldn't need to worry about driving, parking and not being able to drink!!
sorted.
so we go to meet the bus at the appointed hour and my other half and i are the last two to arrive.
keep 'em waiting, i say.
and
there's only one seat left!
(bad planning on someone's part but we won't go there.)
and
the bus was full, and i mean FULL, of senior citizens.
and i do mean senior.
and
i know i'm no spring chicken meself but still.
and
they didn't look overjoyed at our arrival being as it would seem we'd made them wait a nano second after the appointed time of departure.
god forbid!
what is it about seniors and the sands of time?
oh they're running out?
well that would explain it because they're bloody fiends i'm telling you when they want to go somewhere.
and don't get in their way when it's time to get off the bus either.
ye'll get an elbow right where ye don't expect it from some owld biddy with a sweet smile should you attempt to get into the aisle as she's 'coming thru, coming thru.'

anyway, my other half and i were fitted in, but not in seats together, and a fella from the back volunteered to sit on an upturned garbage bin at the front next to the driver.
(no, i'm not lying.)
if the driver had once applied the brakes he'd have gone hurtling into, and probably through the windshield, but hey, i think somebody told him he'd get a refund on his seat if he gave it up.
so did i mention it was a trip of SCOTTISH seniors?
och don't get yer kilt in an uproar ah ken that not all scots are canny! but i'm just illustrating ma point.
jings!

all the way up there the lovely little lady i got sat next to told me, after the very briefest of introductions, about her colon surgery, the events which had necessitated it (!) and its outcome, her issues with food and what she can and can't eat and what can happen if she should eat something that she shouldn't!
and i don't mean haggis.
and all about how since she'd had accidents in public when she wasn't prepared (!) she'd quickly learned the benefits of always keeping spare drawers in her bag.
och it was riveting.
i managed to sleep all the way back.

the boat cruise was fun.
because the 8 in our group fell about laughing at each other.
because we are really funny and because O.A.P.'s in kilts and tam o' shanters (really) are not too difficult to take the piss out of.
och we are so smug.
and just slightly afraid that we're all going to be 'just like that' one of these days.
old that is.
not wearing kilts and tams.

the highlight of the boat trip, apart from a completely coincidental air show over Lake Ontario, most exciting, was when a gay cruise ship sailed alongside and then gleefully passed us by.
they (all the men on board that is) were bare chested.
i'm not sure i get that.
but not to worry.
some of them were wearing little white sailor hats.
as you do.
their captain blew the horn as they came into view and our crew reciprocated with a friendly blast back.
and all the passengers were hooting and hollering and blowing kisses to us whilst they danced to very loud music.
so we were thrilled.
and hooted and hollered and blew kisses right back at them.

and we kept on waving as they sailed gaily by.
bye, bye.

then we turned around to see the shocked and scandalized faces of our fellow passengers.
some very dour scots people.

if only, i'd had me camera!

ach well.

aw goan yasell missus, gie's peace.

did you miss me?
;-)

My family coat of arms ties at the back.

2011-01-06T20:04:00.001-05:00

Today I went into an overdrive of procrastinating, skiving, time wasting and lolly gagging.
I don't really know what lolly gagging is to be honest but I feel it probably fits the bill.
I had good intentions of doing some important paperwork then babysitting the grandchildren for an hour or two and following that up with some shopping and looking over material I want to use next week when I return to work.
A very productive day was planned.
Then:
All of my good intentions went right out the window.
A few years ago I got right into doing my family tree.
Truthfully it all started with a need to be nosey and find out about some of the skeletons that were hidden in our ancestral closets.
I had a few clues and started digging.
Which led me to find lots of people who were very distantly related to me.
All kinds of weird and wonderful people are only an email away when you are doing your family tree.
A lot of our relatives are living in the South of England as opposed to the rest of us who were born and bred in the North East.
This is directly because one of our Southern family members was disgraced and forced to up sticks and come North.
The aforementioned skeleton in the ancestral closet.

I arranged a family reunion when I was planning a trip home to England one summer -- well not a reunion really cos I'd never actually met (or previously heard of) any of these people I was now regularly corresponding with.
Nevertheless I invited lots of new and distant 'relatives' to come North and meet up with me and some other family members on my next visit to England.
It's funny how your Great Grandmother's sister's granddaughter can feel like a close relative all of a sudden.
I told my brothers and sister about what I had been up to and about these new 'family' members I had found.
To say they didn't share my enthusiasm might be a bit of an understatement.
Never mind, I was undaunted.
I knew they'd be just as fascinated as I was given the chance.
So I gave them another chance.

I waited a while before I mentioned in passing to my sister that I had invited a few relatives to come North and meet up at HER house.
Would she mind putting a few people up? -
- and did she mind that she'd never met them or even heard of their existence before now?
Could she pick a couple of them up at the airport with me, and er arrange a party on the weekend for all of our immediate family as a sort of meet and greet?
(we were going to need a tent of some sort for the back garden, extra seats, food, drink, barbecues and such like.)
It was only fair to give her warning.
Could she lay on another soiree for another relative from the Maternal Grandfather's side who was planning a 4 hr drive up one weekday to meet up?
Could she help me to entertain and show these new 'relatives' around Newcastle while they were up visiting?
You know at first it all didn't go over too well.
I'm not quite sure why.
But she came through like the trooper that she is (I know she's reading this) and we pulled it off between us.
Soon enough though we realized that there are often good reasons why families are extended and live so far apart.
And why it's often best not to 'interfere' in these things.
It's not always good to alter the balance as such.
We learned that in our family, WE, as in our branch of the tree, are not the only ones requiring more chlorine in the gene pool.
We learned that all of our little quirks and idiosyncrasies which we'd always taken pains to minimize and downplay were trivial in comparison to some of the nut jobs we'd been descended from and who had branched off in other directions forming their own limbs of the family tree.

Anyway, as these things are wont to do, the interest in the family tree eventually waned a little on my part and then I relegated my research to a cupboard in the basement.
Until.
Yesterday.
When.
Another distant relative in the South of England made contact!
WHOO HOOO!
Somebody I'd never met or even heard of before now!!!
We were off to the races.
Out came the abandoned volume of research, the online Genealogy websites were reopened and we have emailed back and forward sharing information all day.
I have scanned and attached documents and certificates of census, birth, marriage and death.
In effect I have shared my most intimate knowledge of my heritage and genes with a complete stranger.
And naturally, we are now friends on Facebook.
I have mentioned him to my sister but even though I'm planning a trip to the UK this summer I will promise not to invite him and his wife and family up to Newcastle to stay with her.
Because I value my life!

And now, as I pry myself away from this computer where I have become roundshouldered and stiff today, where I have overdosed on ancient and long dead people whose lives I will never really know the full truth of, I shall leave you with this quote:

"Jump into your genes...and dig up your roots."
and this one:
"That's the problem with the gene pool: No lifeguards."

:-)

Work! That four letter word.

2011-01-05T13:17:00.000-05:00

I am still on vacation from work. I have to go back next Monday.
I do not want to go back.
I have bought a lottery ticket and a scratch ticket, which won me another ticket which I have subsequently scratched.
I did not win anything on that second scratch ticket.
I am doubtful about the lottery ticket too as some people in this area just won $20 million.
Lightning won't strike the same place twice will it?
I need to come up with a plan.
I only have a few days left.

When I left the grocery store this morning I walked with eyes downcast in case somebody had lost a winning lottery ticket
or a bag of jewels,
or in case a large bag of $100 bills had fallen off the back of a wagon.
A security wagon en route to the bank that is.
Naturally I would turn any one of 'em in and claim the reward.
It's the Catholic schoolgirl in me which refuses to let me commit the sin of stealing.
(commandment number 8 I believe)
Speaking of not breaking commandments I also have not carved any graven images (commandment #2).
And where has that got me?
I still have to go back to work.
I could try refusal.
I could just tell my other half that I am NOT going to go and he can't make me!
I should just cling to the door frame and refuse to budge.

I tried that on my first day of school in the infants.
Mrs. C was most insistent that my mother pry herself out of my vice-like grip and release me to HER.
She would 'take care of me'.
"!"
So my mother eventually untangled herself from me and the old trout began to drag me, kicking and screaming into her ~~lair~~ classroom, where the other well behaved children stood staring at me, mouths agape.
Mrs. C picked me up.
I clocked her one right across the face and sent her glasses flying.
She dropped me like a hot potato.
I flew to the door.
Margie Raffle, another 5 year old child, beat me to it and barring my exit, fixed me with a meaningful glare.
It said, 'Don't even think about it!'
She was a lot tougher than me.
It was her first day too but I had the feeling that she was no stranger to being left to fend for herself.
Margie had plainly been raised by wolves.
Her mother was the neighbourhood 'Parky' on our council estate.
(If you could call two swings, a rusty roundabout and a sandbox full of broken glass, a park.)
The 'Parky' could put her lippy on without taking the fag out of her mouth.
Margie was letting the teacher know she had her back.
There was no way I was getting past HER!
The teacher gave Margie a look of respect.
She reserved a withering sneer for me.
Defeated and sobbing I slunk off to a corner to lick my wounds and wipe my snot on my sleeve.
My mother was walking down the street and I saw her from the window.
I put my hand on the glass and SCREAMED.
She didn't hear me.

I've never gotten over it really.
I wonder if it would work this time?
I think I could take Margie Raffle now.

A modern day nativity?

2010-12-22T10:13:00.000-05:00

THE DIGITAL STORY OF THE NATIVITY
Uploaded by ExcentricPT. - Watch more comedy videos and sitcoms.

Flash mob let down

2010-12-17T20:31:00.000-05:00

So we got up at the crack of dawn and went into work at 6.15 for the recreation of the flash mob event as mentioned in previous posts.
However that's not what it turned out to be which was a bit disappointing.
The TV show, Canada AM, was there and it was interesting to see them go back and forwards between the live feed and the studio where the rest of the program was coming from.
We expected the same situation to be re-created with the singers dispersed among the crowd and to begin singing as before.
That's the reason I wanted to go.
But instead they were performing as a choir and after sitting around waiting for a couple of hours we were told that they would actually perform at 8.50 a.m.
That's 10 minutes before the end of the show.
What?
Why did they tell us to be there at 6.15 then?
With hundreds of people there we had to fight for a space to see and in the end we were lined up against a wall and could only see the backs of those in the choir.
So it was actually a bit of a bust.
I did record it and saw myself on TV when I got home.
Every time a camera pointed in our direction we waved like a couple of maniacs and it was pretty embarrassing to watch.
I deleted the evidence pronto.
This YouTube video is what the local cable TV station ran about the event.
If you scan the people around the perimeter you might see me.
Other than that as I say it was a total let down and by 2 p.m. I was ready for my bed and feeling very cranky at work.
We'd gotten up at 5 after all.
The original video goes from strength to strength on YouTube tho.

Return to the Mall: Christmas Flash Mob part II

2010-12-07T20:15:00.002-05:00

Remember THIS a couple of weeks ago?
Well tomorrow, as in Wednesday, the TV cameras from CANADA AM return to the mall where I work to film a re-creation of the whole event.
Apparently it's had millions of hits on youtube.
But guess what?
This time I WILL BE THERE!!

Remember how they did the original event on a Saturday when I wasn't at work?
Well I have been personally invited by the mall management to attend the re-creation and be a part of the studio audience.
(OK so has everyone else who works in the mall but that's besides the point.)
I'm just hoping that they don't all show up so that I can ~~hog the limelight~~ find a seat in a good spot in the food court.
The show is on the CTV network and begins at the ungodly hour of 6.30.
As my supervisor said, "In the morning?"
to which I replied,
"Yes, that's why they call it Canada AM!"

We have to be there for 6.00.
(presumably that's for hair, makeup and wardrobe.)
Right?

Considering what I'm going to look like at 6 a.m. then I think it's only right that they offer those services otherwise they may have a lot of viewers switching off in disgust.

So if you are up and about and are able to see it please look for me.
If you don't live here then you might be able to stream it online?
I'm not sure whether you'll know who I am but I will try to do something to draw attention to myself in the crowd.
(!)
I will NOT be in my pj's and dressing gown.
Perhaps I'll stand on a chair and sing Hallelujah?
Nah, that's been done.
or I might draw happy faces on the palms of my hand and wave at the camera.

I have to leave the house at 5 in the morning.
My other half will still be in his pit because he's on afternoon shift.
I will stick the remote control in his hand before I leave.
He will love that.

I must go and set the DVR to record the event.
Better go to bed now.
and get ready for my close up.
Gawd I hope I don't sleep in.
:-)

30 days hath November - except when there's 29!

2010-11-30T21:48:00.003-05:00

here's me thinking i'm all done and then Cheech made me doubt it.
(we were in this nablowotsit thing together.)
so i added up my posts and found out that she was right.
and i was wrong.
dammit.
so that's me.
i'm not the full shilling.
i'm a brick short of a full load.
i miscalculated somehow.
the thing is that on one day i posted twice (technically) and that sort of threw off my mental scheduling.

so i counted them all up and i had in fact only posted 29.
and the task was 30 posts in 30 days.
SO
if i get THIS post in today then,
i made it.

therefore
i will tell you a little tale.
seeing as i dragged you all the way back here
and i'd previously had you here under false pretences.
as it were.

at work we got two new office chairs.
one for me and one for 'er.
that's my coworker who shall remain nameless.
they rotate and go up and down.
roll back and forwards.
the usual.
comfy, smart, black leather.
they're pretty fancy.
except,
mine has a life of its own.
when i sit down it takes me flying across the tiled floor, which has no traction to stop the chair's momentum.
so i have learned to sit down carefully, bracing both feet on the floor and holding the arm rests before i sit back.
.
this works so much better than just plonking myself down willy nilly.
except.
when we first got the chairs i sat down and then leaned forward to take off my shoes.
(cos i always change into my flat shoes at work if you want to know)
so when i leaned forward, the chair sort of tipped up catapulting me onto my bum and then shot out from underneath me.
i landed in a very ungainly and unladylike heap on the floor.
the chair continued to fly backwards across the room at high speed and then landed upside down.
as we had a visitor in the office that morning i was somewhat embarrassed.
i had to be helped up.
because i was in a state of disbelief and bloody irate at the same time.
and tried to laugh it off.
as you do.
ha ha ha look at me.
what a silly bugger.

but my role in our workplace seems to be that i am the klutz.
i'm the one who spills, drops, bumps into or knocks up against anything that isn't nailed down.
so i made as light of the situation as possible under the circumstances.
pretended to laugh it off.
because i knew it wasn't actually my fault.
that chair is possessed by an evil spirit.
but i suspected that someone who shall remain nameless (i.e. my coworker) thought that it WAS my fault.
and that it was just ME being ME.
again!
well imagine my ~~delight~~ surprise today when she told me that on my day off, when she was in the middle of a skype conference, she had leaned forward to adjust the camera and her chair had tipped her on her arse and then propelled itself to the other side of the room.
much to the great amusement of the other party on the skype line.
!

of course i commiserated and said 'how awful'.
how these chairs are absolutely dangerous.
but inside i was smirking.
and felt really smug.
and vindicated.
so i walked away so she wouldn't see me trying to disguise my smirk.
thinking, so now you know it's not just ME!
but
then i walked into the filing cabinet drawer which i'd previously left open.
which resulted in me spilling my coffee all down the front of me and onto several important files.

still
it was well worth it tho'.

http://www.mirra-chairs.com/tag/unique-chairs/page/5/

I did it! Yaay for Me. (Or Thank God November is done!)

2010-11-29T23:36:00.002-05:00

I absolutely cannot believe that I posted every day in the month of November.
My mother always said I started things and never finished them.
She was mostly right but I have a sense of achievement which is probably out of proportion to the accomplishment.
But
Sometimes it was hard.
and sometimes I just thought 'what the hell' and didn't want to do it.
But
every time I did do it, I was more than pleased that I did.

Now getting back to reality I have to start panicking over Christmas.
Well not really, but aren't people going more mad than usual?
It seems like Christmas started ages ago and I've just put my Christmas tree up and it's not even December.
That's never been known.
I felt I was 'late'.

People are so flippin' competitive.
I heard two ladies discussing how much they'd achieved already.
As if it was a race to the death.
It's just getting completely out of hand.
I wanted to shout, "Well I've got MY bloody turkey in the oven. So that beats both of you!"
but that would have been stupid.
So I didn't.

Thanks for all of the great comments in November.
I'm off to bed.
See you in December.
;-)

slippers baby yeah

2010-11-28T21:48:00.002-05:00

( I'm afraid I'm having to resort to trickery. I've had a busy day and no blog post so I'm reposting something from back when I first started my blog but as it only got comments from sympathetic family members then that means you didn't read it. So please indulge me.)

it’s official! my husband and I are boring old farts.
hereinafter referred to as b.o.f.'s.

why? because yesterday i went out and bought each of us a pair of slippers.

"but", you ask "haven’t either of you ever owned a pair of slippers before now"?

well, no not quite.
our daughter once bought some for her dad as a gift. a fancy pair of fur-lined moccasins which he occasionally stepped into but never made the full commitment to; after all slippers are what old people wear, right?

he would put them on if he remembered, but for the most part they lay neglected at the back of the cupboard collecting dust under a pile of shoes.
they were later donated to the charity bin looking as good as new and i like to think that somebody was able to appreciate them and wear them as they should be worn, i.e. an elderly man smoking a pipe and wearing a cardigan with pockets.

we are bare feet or sock feet people. i like to think it's a bit bohemian because we are, after all, former 70's hippies.

really?

well, not quite!

but we could have been if we'd wanted to.

myself, I’ve had the odd pair of slippers.
nothing fancy. nothing that i couldn't live without.
but for the last year or so I have been wearing the husband’s flip flops which he uses outside in the summer time.
a tad too big, a tad grimy but quite serviceable nontheless.

i'd slip 'em on in the morning when getting out of bed and they'd spare my feet from the cold basement floor while i schlep downstairs to feed the cat.

but the other day, completely out of the blue, my other half, (herinafter referred to as m.o.h.) pouted at me and said in a whiny voice, ‘I need a pair of slippers’.

as if I had been hiding his slippers on him for the last ten years.

as if I had indeed been depriving him of slippers these many years, by saying,
‘you will never, ever get a pair of slippers as long as i am the captain of THIS ship mate!'
which of course is not the case.
but he made me sound like i was the battleaxe wife and he was the deprived husband.
thus waving the proverbial red rag in my face, as it were.

soooo I thought, right, your wish is my command.

translate that to, "I’ll fix you, see if i don't! slippers is it? slippers is what you shall have then."

so off i trotted to Walmart which i don't really like
(because it's where all the employees are sad and never want to make eye contact with the customers in case we ask them for something, and where some of the customers are heard in the next aisle over busily beating and/or berating their children and forcing them to 'sit down NOW!' in the shopping cart, promising, "you will get in big trouble when i get you home' just in case this yelling and emotional brain damage i'm laying on you here should not be punishment enough presumably)

anyhoo, i phoned hubby and asked him what size he took (best to check when it comes to m.o.h. as he is a little picky when it comes to sizes, having been born with a spirit level in his eyeball and a ruler up his arse, not forgetting the clipboard which he walks around with checking off things day and night)
oh you have NO idea.

and then i picked him out a lovely cosy-looking pair of brown furry slippers (sale price $7.00) and, while i was at it, i picked up a pair of slippers for myself.
also on sale for $7.00!
(no doubt because both pairs were handmade by a chinese child wearing a candle on his head to illuminate the dark workspace under the table in the factory where his mother works the dayshift and his father works the nightshift all for less than 2 yen a day)

then i hurried home and as soon as i got in the door i kicked off my big boots and slid into my new slippers and it was like cinderella and her glass slipper.

a clock chimed and i was momentarily dazed and when i next looked up i saw my hubby standing there in his furry brown slippers, and he was a middle aged man, and i saw myself and i was a middle aged woman and we looked at each other and let the moment register..... and then we let it pass..... and then we said,

'bugger it, let's go and get our pyjamas on, it's nearly seven o'clock'.

and that's when i knew.
it's all downhill from here on in.

Are You Looking at Me?

2010-11-27T23:56:00.001-05:00

one of our friends has just returned from a visit to his old home town; glasgow, scotland.
he's from a rough area where the men are men and the women are nervous.
when he goes home he loves to go back to his old stomping ground.
there's an atmosphere about the place that he enjoys more than anything else.

a pub he knew very well back in the day is still standing and still full of the old time hard men.
the atmosphere is rough and tough and the patter is not for the feint of heart.
off he went one afternoon for a wee visit.
he ordered a pint and sitting down looked around before opening his newspaper and settling in for a couple of hours.
there were some real characters in that afternoon.
the craic was good.
across the room was a wee fella with an ugly mug.
his face had a fixed grimace and he sneered out of the side of his mouth.
one eye was either missing, or permanently shut.
he never took his other eye off our friend.
the hairy eye.
the stink eye.
there's nothing more disconcerting.
every time he looked up the wee fella was still staring.
after a couple of pints our pal had had enough.

this wee man's really making me angry, he thought to himself.
i've stared back at him several times and he's never once looked away.
if i don't say anything he's going to think i'm a wimp and he won't give it up.
so he summoned up some dutch courage.
and tried to recall how he'd have handled this situation in his younger days.
another pint of beer and he was on his feet and across the room to see the wee man with the staring problem.
reverting to the old vernacular he leaned in.
'look pal.' he started 'whit is ye're effing problem? ye've been staring at me all efternoon. whit the f**k are ye lookin' at?'
the wee fella never flinched.
then his hairy eye looked up and over our pal's head.
and he pointed.
at the TV across the room.
'ah'm watchin' the horse racin' pal.' he said.

'oh aye, that's alright then.' said our friend, as he stuck his newspaper under his arm and quietly left.

http://www.glasgowguide.co.uk/reviews/items/Books/Crime/sbr/date_desc/31/glasgows_hard_men.htm

Silent Night. Or Mayhem in the Stable.

2010-11-26T21:19:00.004-05:00

Last night Ben, who's 4, came over to paint Xmas decorations to hang on the tree.
I'd bought some new figures for the nativity scene.
These included 3 wise men, or Kings, depending on your beliefs, and a camel.
There was an Angel with impressive wings; Mary, Joseph and of course the baby Jesus, complete with swaddling clothes and laying in a manger, accompanied by a sheep.
There was some cattle too.
I left them out on the table because I had a feeling Ben would be interested.

'OOh!' he said 'Whose are these toys Nanny?'

Ben is interested in God.
'God created the world.' he told me one day.
'God created me.' he went on.
Ahh bless him.
My heart warmed to his innocence.
'Nanny?'
'Yes Ben?'
'If God created us, who created God?' he asked.

So he looked at the figures and played with them a bit.
He asked who was who.
That was interesting.
For about a minute.

After some rearranging of the figures underneath a plant on the table, Joseph, without warning, changed from the Saint we all know and love, into a real bad guy.

He took off into the air flying above the gentle scene below.

Then he began to dive bomb Mary and the baby Jesus, resulting in him knocking over one of the three Kings.

'Ooops!' said Ben

"That's okay." I reassured him and uprighted the felled King..

But soon Joseph was off and flying once more.

'VRRROOOOM!'

He swooped down over Bethlehem, wreaking havoc on the Archangel and a second King.

Then, there was some kind of altercation down in the stable.
It all happened very quickly.
And ended abruptly when Joseph's head fell off
and bounced across the table landing a few feet away from his body.

Mary winced.

Joseph had obviously miscalculated his trajectory.
On the up sweep his head came into contact with the Angel's wings and that was it.
Game over.

'Oh no! I'm sorry Nanny.'
Ben was sad.
'No problem.' says I.
We'll use super glue.

That was a relief.
Ben held Joseph's head in one hand and his body in the other.

'Don't worry Zhofus.' he told him
'We're going to fix you.'

So we did.

And Peace reigned over all the Earth once more.

The cattle lowed.
and the baby stirred.
The Kings offered their gifts.
Joseph took his place next to Mary.
Mary just gave him a look.

But she never said a word.
;-)

Clippy Mat and the Deathly Hallows at Twilight

2010-11-24T23:30:00.001-05:00

It's late.
It's 11.14 p.m. to be precise and I haven't got a thing to write about.
I've just scanned Google news to see what's happening.
Perhaps there is some kind of insightful social commentary I could make?
That would really make you sit up wouldn't it?
Don't worry, not going to happen.
All I saw over there was doom, gloom and bloody murder.
Tho' I did see something about Harry Potter.
So I'm guessing they've gone and made another HP movie then?
Normally my inner barge pole steers me clear of making statements on my blog that could likely incite riots.
But as I say, there's not much blog fodder at this time of night.

So, here goes nothing.
I have to say that I absolutely cannot stand Harry Potter books or movies!
To me they are complete and utter sh*te and I put them up there with those vampire books.
Rubbish.
There.
I've said it.
And I don't even care.
Well you may not agree with me.
And most likely you don't.
Because it seems I am in the minority.
The world and his wife love that stuff.
That's all you hear; it's either Edward this or Harry that.
Not to mention Hermione!
Hermione?
Has anybody ever, in the living memory of anyone under the age of 97, been called Hermione?
I'm sorry but it's the dumbest name ever.
I think that puts me off more than anything.
Oh that and Muggles.
I cannot stand Muggles!
Stupid, stupid word!
It's just so Enid Blyton isn't it?

I did read one of the H.Potter books, the first one, just to see for myself.
And I tried to read one of the Twilight books.
I remember how people were absolutely 'overcome' with the vapours about these books so I thought I'd better just take a gander.
I watched the first H.Potter movie too.
Purely for research purposes of course.
And I saw the Twilight movie on a flight to England once.
Couldn't avoid watching it really.
So, I'm not completely spouting rubbish without knowing from whence I speak.
And because I had nothing else to say, I thought I'd say that.
And risk your ire.
Well, if you're an American, you'll be too busy eating Turkey anyway to come over here and read what I'm waffling on about today.
So it's just we Brits most likely.
50% of you will like Master Potter is my guess.
And perhaps 45% will like Twilight stuff.
My truth is that I cannot abso-bloody-lutely stand any of it and my daughter is going to be royally pissed off with me for saying so 'cos she loves them both.
Sorry.
There now,
There's the cat among the pigeons and I'm off to me bed.
'Night all.
Talk amongst yourselves and don't go leaving me any nasty comments about HP and my maligning him or Edward Thingumy.
I'll just delete them anyway.
With my magic wand. Wingardium leviwhatsit.
:-)

It's not how you start, it's how you finish....

2010-11-24T05:47:00.001-05:00

Steve said I'd hit the wall. he was right.

and i can't stand those people who give up before the end.
when i'm watching any one of those reality shows which i am unfortunately, (don't hate me) addicted to, i always root for the underdog when there seems no chance of them making it to the end.
amazing race contestants i've detested all the way thru who start to show their human side a little and then turn themselves around?
i'm in their corner.
the guy with the two left feet on dancing with the stars?
he's got my vote.
the one on survivor who has lost the most weight, looks like death, whined the most and generally made me want to throw something at the tv every week?
well just when he says 'enough', that's when i'm saying, 'more.'

so i hit the wall but i'm not done yet.
it's just that monday night.
i cooked and then cleaned up the kitchen after dinner.
put some laundry in and got my clothes ready for work the next day.
did the ironing.
made my lunch for work in the morning.
read the paper.
tried the sudoko but it was a hard one so i only got 1/2 done, couldn't finish.
brain was tired.
so, watched tv.
then.
time for bed.
and then i remembered.
i hadn't done anything about my post for tuesday.
and i thought,
right, that's it, i'm done!
i'm not bloody superwoman.
forget it!

but
where there's life there's hope right?
and where somebody falls just before the finish line
there's always somebody who wills you on.
and that's YOU!

cue the schmaltzy music.....

voiceover...

so i've picked myself up,
dusted myself off
and am back on the straight and narrow,
facing forward to the end of november.
with my chin up, chest out.
and head held high
put that champagne on ice.
ready the fireworks....

fade music.
end credits.

see you tomorrow.
;-)

www.classperformance.com/tag/tourette-syndrome/

23 enigma

2010-11-23T00:01:00.039-05:00

23 is a nice number don't you think?
(when I started this post I had no idea about the 23 enigma but it's a bit weird all the same that there's something enigmatic attached to this number. coincidence? there are no coincidences right?)

okay i'm stalling.
tomorrow when this is posted it will be my 23rd post of november.
i was going to try to post every day in november remember?
but
that's all she wrote.

i gave it a shot and i enjoyed it but i've sort of fizzled out.
so i will just go back to normal (irregular and infrequent) posting now if you don't mind.
i didn't actually enrol in the nablopomo thingy anyway but i just set myself a personal challenge to see if i could do it.
and i nearly did.
so that's good when you think about it right?
and
no matter what i wrote about, YOU still came by and read it.
that's good.
i really appreciate that.
it was fun while it lasted.

Who was that Flash Mob? Chorus Niagara that's who.

2010-11-22T06:41:00.001-05:00

I
I managed to find out the name of the choir that sang on the flashmob posting. Here they are singing in another local mall earlier this year. I think I'm going to join this choir. No vocal training required. And I can carry a tune in a bucket. ;-)

Clippy's Mall! Christmas Food Court Flash Mob, Hallelujah Chorus

2010-11-21T00:01:00.002-05:00

This happened last Saturday in the mall where I work. Our classroom is a few yards away upstairs on the mezzanine. If it had happened on a week day then you may have seen me sitting at one of those tables. I'm gutted that they did it on my day off. I absolutely love stuff like this. Anyway, enjoy the view, the amazing singing and imagine me in the crowd.

Royal Engagement Facebook Fail - Wordless Weekend #3

2010-11-20T00:01:00.002-05:00

I hope this youtube link works better than last weekends.

The older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune.

2010-11-18T21:56:00.001-05:00

Mark is going to turn 50.
Been there done that.
I'm not sure what happened but in less than *gulp* 5 years I am going to be 60!
Six.
Zero.
Me.
How is that possible?
What do you mean YOU can't believe it?
How do you think I feel?
I don't look a day over 50 either.
Ok, you have to squint, but I'm not THAT bad.
As Joan Rivers says, "Looking 50 is great....when you're 60."

I don't mind getting older as such.
It's preferable to the alternative right?
Don't think of me as old.
Think of Oprah or Annie Lennox, or Sharon Osbourne.
Meredith Viera, Whoopi Goldberg.
We're all the same age give or take a year or so in either direction.
You don't think OLD when you think of them.
Do you?
?

What Mark is saying in his post is that his coworker has challenged him to do 50 new things as he turns 50.
She says it's a must.
She says '40 new things when you're 40 and 50 new things when you're 50'.
These must be completely new things, as in you've never been there or done 'em before and you have to do them in the year you turn 50 or, in my case 60.

I think I like the sound of this.
If 50 is the new 40 then obviously 60 is the new 50.
So technically I'm not getting older, just better.
But
There's a snag.
I can't think of anything.
Help me.
I need some inspiration.
Something to work towards.
In 2014.
I know, you'll still be just a whippersnapper; a mere slip of a thing in 2014..
You won't be able to relate to me, a 60 year old woman, so that's why I'm asking you NOW!

I need 60 things.
Rule out posing nude for Playboy or trying out for American Idol.
Or Britain's Got Talent.
But perhaps Survivor.
Or the Amazing Race.
Climb a mountain?
Run a marathon?

Any suggestions?

http://www.wellhaven.com/60th-Birthday-Celebration-Gift-Bag

skin of teeth post - before the clock strikes 12

2010-11-17T22:38:00.001-05:00

an update.
to yesterday's post about other half's cooking.
the curry thing.
well today,
i had another phone call on my way home from work.
wanting to know where i was as dinner was ready.
(we eat early in our neck of the woods.
it's something that comes as you get older i think.)
oh-oh that made me nervous.
visions of left-over scorching hot curries danced in my head.
what are we having? i asked after taking a big breath.

steak pies, mashed potatoes, broccoli and gravy was the answer.

BIG relief.

steak pie pic from bbcgoodfood.com

when i got home and we sat down to eat i confessed that i had written about his curry on my blog yesterday.

in m.o.h's opinion my blog and everything to do with it is a bit strange.
he doesn't read it and as long as i don't talk about it too much he doesn't ask questions.
he seemed quite interested tho'.
so i broke it down for him and explained what i had written about.
then we laughed about it.
things are looking up i thought.

he said he didn't actually want to read it but was glad that i hadn't made him out to be some kind of rotten cook who didn't know how to make a curry.
as if!
i told him that i was afraid there'd be leftovers today if he hadn't taken them into work for lunch for him and his coworker.
let's call his coworker fred.
oh fred enjoyed the curry said m.o.h.
when he got back from the bathroom that is.
fred said it cleaned out his colon and his middle intestine.
it went thru him like a porsche.
m.o.h. was pleased as punch about that.
a good meal and a laxative all in one.
not only is he a chef, he's specialising in interior medicine to boot.

they were both happy about that.
m.o.h. and fred.
it must be a guy thing.

it's funny how different we are, me and m.o.h.

i enjoyed the pie.
it was nice and hot.
but not spicy.

off to bed.
can't wait to see what we are having for dinner tomorrow night.
;-)

If you can't stand the heat......

2010-11-16T22:31:00.000-05:00

i'm not an ungrateful person.
far from it.
but
and of course there's always a but,
i just wish my other half, wonderful human being that he is,
would stop doing the cooking.
or that he would stop cooking curries.
because they kill me.
they all taste the same.
i.e. they are all mind numbingly H.O.T. and they blow my insides away.
today.
he phoned me on my way home from work to say that i didn't have to cook.
i was delighted.
i've made curry. he sounded chuffed with himself.
curry?
oh no.
my heart sank.
what kind of curry? i enquired tentatively.
butter chicken, he replied happily.
i was surprised.
butter chicken suggested mellow colours and pleasant tastes.
creamy sauces with tantalizing spices.
his curries usually don't have a name.
they are just the hottest of any kind of spices that he can find thrown in the pot with chicken, onions, mushrooms and tomatoes.
he loves them.
they are all the same colour and consistency and made with the sole purpose of making him gasp and get hiccups.
that's his idea of success.

i was hopeful.
fool that i am.

until i sat down to eat.

nicked from google images

'eh? eh?' he enquired.
eyes begging for a vote of gratitude and thanks.
'isn't it the best i've made yet?'

'well.... '
i was speechless.

'did you follow a recipe?' i enquired after a few forkfuls as i waited for my tongue to stop swelling.

'Nah.' he scoffed.
unspoken: recipes are for wimps.
'i just threw everything in the pot;' he explained as if he was teaching gordon ramsay the little tricks of the trade. 'chicken, onions, mushrooms and tomatoes and a cup or two of water, lots of spices, stirred and then let it simmer.'
'it's fantastic isn't it?'

he really believes that.
i couldn't respond as i'd have liked because my mouth was on fire and my innards were aflame.
he didn't notice because he was too busy being so darned pleased with himself.

i have tried to explain that i want to be able to 'taste' the food, savour the flavour.
but he doesn't get it.
if it's not burning your entrails he thinks it's no good.
if i was to get near an open flame and breathe hard i could do a fire eating act.

i wouldn't dream of bursting his bubble tho' so being the loyal wife that i am i ate the lot and didn't say i word.
well, i couldn't have, even if i'd wanted to.
bless him.

Just another day in Crazy Town

2010-11-15T18:48:00.001-05:00

okay i realize that wordless weekends was a bit of a ploy.
me posting stuff just to say i had posted and you being all nice and coming over and commenting just to be supportive.
not that i'm not grateful.
i am.
very.
obviously i am scraping the barrel because there's no way on god's earth that i can come up with something interesting for every day in november.
hey, if i could make even one or two days in november interesting then i'd feel chuffed.
i'm not even sure now why i thought this was a good idea.
i think i thought it would be a challenge.
i like a good challenge.
but a challenge has to have a point.
and i can't remember what mine was now.
but
i'm not backing out.
yet.

i'll just tell you one or two things that you might find remotely interesting.
and then i'll go.

i met a fella today who would like to enrol and do some upgrading through our program.
he did the required assessment and completed all of the paperwork.
we talked about his goals.
what we could help him with.
we discussed the fact that he's recently been diagnosed with epilepsy.
he said it had taken years to get to that diagnosis.
years of unusual behaviour before 'they' finally pinpointed that he was having seizures.
i sympathised when he said he'd urinated publicly.
i said it must be difficult to have a seizure and then come around to find that you've accidentally wet your pants.
he said, oh no, not peed my pants. i sort of take it out (he gestured someone unleashing what appeared to be a very large penis) and i pee.
he gestured someone peeing against an imaginary wall with said oversized instrument.
oh, says i.
and, he went on, i also did b and e's.
b and e's?
yeah, break and enters.
pardon?
yeah, i'd break and enter but i didn't know i was doing it because i was having a seizure.
? er really?
yeah.
and sometimes i've been know to pull the fixtures and fittings off a wall; sinks, toilets and that. but i never knew i'd done it 'cos i was having a seizure.

i was slightly perplexed but didn't break my composure.
we finished our conversation.
he left and i said i'd call when we have an opening in the class he needs.

then i mentally marked his paperwork with my imaginary massive rubber stamp.
Access Denied.

and how was YOUR day?

Image from Google

Wordless Weekend #2 Sunday - Paolo Nutini - Coming Up Easy

2010-11-14T13:16:00.000-05:00

Wordless Weekends #2. Reading this, listening to that.

2010-11-13T08:50:00.000-05:00

12 (2 more than 10 and twice the number 6)

2010-11-12T06:07:00.001-05:00

12.
not just any old number.
as in 12 days of Christmas?
no.
as in,
12 days of posting!
already? you ask.

12 is a funny number isn't it?
a dozen.
one less than a baker's dozen.
twice more than 6.
speaking of 6.
there's 6 degrees of separation.
i find that fascinating.
most of the blogs i read can be connected to each other.
that's how i found them in the first place.
there's Pretty in the City (the first ever blog I knew about and read every day way back when, when it was SaveKaryn.com)
do you remember Save Karyn?
she was a quirky girl in NY who had the unique idea of getting out of debt by having people send her money.
she'd racked up debt by overspending.
at least she was completely honest about that.
she sold stuff on ebay too and with everyone's help, some people sent a dollar (that's all she asked for from each person) she was able to get out of debt.
it was unique and very funny.
and if she hadn't already done it first i could've done it.
but it's too late now.
dammit.

i'm not sure how i found Toni at ExPat Mum's blog.
she's in chicago.
not long after i was reading it i realized that we'd both gone to the same convent school back in newcastle.
back in the day.
i'm a tad older than her.
i think our school was one of those all girls' schools that once you'd been a part of it you would never be the same.
(that's another post.)

then recently i met Trish at Mum's gone to
so i'm reading her post the other day and she wrote about her favourite teacher
and i realized i'd had the same teacher too.
(who was NOT my favourite teacher)
but that could also be another post.
another ex convent school girl!
i wonder how many of us are out there in blogging land?

what i really wonder is whether any of us ever became nuns?

i somehow think not.

so you see.
12.
it's not just an ordinary number after all.
it's 2 more than 10.
and we all know about 10 right?

but we won't go there now.

fascinating eh?
come back tomorrow when 13 will be revealed in all of its glory.

p.s.
tonight i'm going to see 3 different scottish comedians.
(3 of course is 9 less than 12 but you can see the connection right?)
none of whom are Billy Connolly.
or Frankie Boyle
sad to say.
i don't know who we are seeing as yet as somebody else has got the tickets.
i'll let you know how good they were.
tho' i won't be able to remember any of their jokes.
i never can.

p.p.s.
today is friday the 12th.
which when you think about it, is almost friday the 13th.
that would have been just weird.
wouldn't it?

i'm going to go now.
;-)

Gratitude

2010-11-11T00:02:00.048-05:00

Able Seaman Ronald Keenan C/JX 155544

H.M. SUBMARINE THUNDERBOLT, ROYAL NAVY
who died age 20
on 13 March, 1943.
Son of James and May Keenan,
husband of Doris Keenan
of Wallsend, Northumberland.

"The Admiralty regrets to announce that HM Submarine Thunderbolt must now be considered lost."

HMS Thunderbolt was depth charged off Sicily by Italian CVT Cicogna

At 2210 on Friday 12th March, 1943 the Italian merchant ship Esterel was torpedoed two miles north of Capo San Vito. Following the attack the torpedo boat Libra was ordered to seek out the submarine responsible - HMS Thunderbolt.
The Libra made contact with the Thunderbolt that night and carried out seven depth charge attacks with no result.
On Sunday 14th March the Italian corvette Cicogna obtained a contact and shortly after 0734 a periscope was sighted 2000 yards off the corvette’s bow. At 0845 the periscope was again sighted, this time less than 10 feet away.
Depth charges were launched at once and the corvette increased its speed and turned for another attack when an explosion lifted the submarine’s stern out of the sea at an angle of 90 degrees. The submarine sank through a discharge of air and oil.
A further two depth charges were dropped resulting in air bubbles, oil and smoke appearing on the surface where the submarine had sunk. The Cicogna remained on station for an hour but no further contact was made.

ref. used: www.rnsubmus.co.uk

In memory of my Uncle, Ronny.

We never met.

You died too young; before I was born.

R.I.P.

You are not forgotten.

With grateful thanks for your sacrifice.

Your loving niece,

Pat.

RUPERT BROOKE

(In Memoriam)

I never knew you save as all men know

Twitter of mating birds, flutter of wings

In April coverts, and the streams that flow --

One of the happy voices of our Springs.

A voice for ever stilled, a memory,

Since you went eastward with the fighting ships,

A hero of the great new Odyssey,

And God has laid His finger on your lips.

By: Moray Dalton

Clippy's useful Tips. Number 1

2010-11-10T06:28:00.003-05:00

i came across this wonderful tip in my December issue of Good Housekeeping.
you might find it very useful one day.
i know that it's going to help me out a lot this winter.

Walk Like a Penguin
Gotta cross an icy parking lot to get to your car? Try the technique recommended by the U.S. Army: Bend your knees a little, point your toes out slightly, and extend your arms out to your sides - then take very short steps or walk with a flat-footed shuffle, keeping your centre of gravity over your feet (not leaning in any direction.)

I can just see you now.
Try doing it with a straight face and without saying "arp, arp"
(isn't that what penguins say?)

Let me know how that works for you.

You're welcome.

;-)

Day 9.

2010-11-09T07:00:00.000-05:00

now look what's happened.
i've got to get ready for work in 10 mins and i haven't prepared a post for today.
am i going to fall at the first hurdle?
i think not.
i said i would blog every day in november and that's what i'm going to do.

there's only one problem.
i don't have a topic.
( i know, that's never bothered me before, i hear you say.)

i would have had one last night but George W was on tv and i was curious to hear what he had to say.
well no.
i knew WHAT he would say, same old rhetoric.
i just wanted to hear HOW he would say it.
would he look twitchy?
uncomfortable?

he did okay i suppose.
better than i expected in some ways.
but he's still upset with kanye.
kanye called him a racist.
and george said he aint no racist.
he was insulted by that comment then after katrina and he's still insulted now.
well george, get yourself down to louisiana and see how those people are feeling.
i think they are still insulted too.

there you go.
that's my 2 pennorth.
political commentary no less.
at 6.54 a.m.
and i'm still going to be off to work on time.

posting every day is a doddle.
have a great day. :-)

p.s. want to send a message to my friend Chris.
she is the most open and honest blogger and a lady with a big heart and an amazing sense of humour.
i always get uplifted when i read her posts.
i just want to send her some love.
she's feeling down.
and she's not afraid to tell anyone.
you might want to say hi and tell her i sent you.

have I got a deal for you?

2010-11-08T00:07:00.025-05:00

yesterday my post was a brain teaser.
i wish i could have given out prizes for the right answer.
well technically there wasn't a right answer i was just fishing for comments we both know that.

i know some blogs do have prizes and give aways tho'.
recently i've had some emails offering me glowing rewards.
oh yes, i have.
somebody wants me to review their pots and pans and write about them on this blog.
they will reward me with a pot for my trouble.
a pot.
not pots.
singular.
be still my heart.
i am supposed to peruse their myriad of websites (because i have hours and hours of time to do that.)
and select some cookware within the ~~cheap~~ price range they quoted.
(do they think i can be bought that easily?)
then i have to use said pot/pan/cookware whichever i pick (within that ~~cheap~~ price range) and review it.
then after i've done ALL that i should point everyone who comes here (aka YOU) in that direction and tell them to buy some pots and pans.
presumably for more than the cost of the one i am to be given.
(!)
listen.
if getting me to do what you want was a matter of giving me pots or pans then my husband would be walking around with a permanent smile on his face.
it's not going to happen.

then somebody else wants to advertise their website on my blog.
pardon?
they will pay me the princely sum of .... get this.... $30.00
$30 that is.
the two zeros come AFTER the decimal point.
i mean i'm easy.
but i aint cheap.
their website by the way, which they want to advertise on here, is for rehab.
for addicts.
well.
what does that say about you people?
they obviously did a lot of market research to find a blog which is read by people who overeat, drink too much, smoke incessantly, gamble their pay cheques, snort illegal substances or generally abuse themselves and are in need of rehabilitation.
you should be offended.
i'm offended for you.

then somebody wanted me to review a cook book.
?
here's how that would go.
"i liked the pictures but didn't attempt any of the recipes because I don't like cooking."
i couldn't tell a lie could i?
for that little endeavour all i was going to get out of that deal was a copy of the actual book to give to one of my 'readers'.
that's you.
again, i'm offended for you.
what kind of people are they insinuating that you are?
addicts who spend their time in the kitchen following recipes?
hah!
the people who come here to read my blog all have people that cook FOR them.
they don't waste their own time in kitchens.
that's what they pay others to do.
right?

so that's a no.

the other special offer email was written in chinese.
i tried to decipher it but all i could read was something to do with lasting longer and keeping things hard.
playdough?
i'm not sure.
i've sent away for it and i'll let you know how it works out.
;-)

Wordless Weekend - A brain teaser.

2010-11-07T01:51:00.000-04:00

Look carefully at these two products which were in my cleaning supplies cupboard.

That is all.
I am at liberty to say no more.
I don't technically have to say anything because even tho I'm blogging every day for the whole month of November the weekends are wordless and can be pictures only.

So I will leave you to draw your own conclusions on this subject.
Perhaps you would like to put 2 and 2 together and leave me a comment re same?

It's Saturday. (for want of a better post title)

2010-11-06T06:00:00.003-04:00

The genius that is Molly Potter. She is testing me. She left this comment (below) on my last post. I told her I can't blog to order but then I realized I didn't have a topic for tomorrow, even tho' it's technically Wordless Weekends, so I thought I'd just roll all of her suggestions for posts into one post. I have no idea how or why she came up with these random ideas but nevertheless it gave me something to write about and for that I'm always grateful.Her questions are in black. My answers are in blue.
Thanks Molly. I think. :-)

Molly: You have 25 more posts before the end of November so I would like to suggest a post...if you choose to blog about any of the following...I will feel honoured...

- the components of your ideal party
people. people with personalities preferably. and somebody who tells mad jokes and makes me split my sides. and lots of food and drink.

- personality traits you admire most in others
patience. kindness. warmth, humour, and the ability to ignore my failings.

- a gesture of kindness you once did that you are proud of
i let my husband have the remote control all night one night and i never complained.
(i'm going to heaven for that)

- a nasty school memory
i tripped while getting off the school bus in front of a boy i had a crush on. i was so embarrassed i pretended i was knocked out and stayed down. i think he stepped over me.

- - things you learnt at school that you can still remember
get in the dinner line before the fitzpatricks or there'll be nowt left.

- your most stressful journey
22hr return flight (including 12 hr delay in manchester airport) from england with 3 kids and no husband to help me. i fought with the flight attendant on the way home, cried until the snot came down my face and refused to budge when she asked me to. i'd plonked myself in an empty seat in first class with the baby so that the two boys could stretch out on our three seats back in the peasants' section. they were exhausted and out cold. not surprising really as they'd had to sit in an airport departure lounge for 12 hrs and then wait another hour on the plane before take off. i'd probably be arrested these days but hell hath no fury like a frazzled mother with hungry and tired kids. don't even mess with me.

- the recipe for your favourite meal
recipe? bloody hell. i blogged one way back but to be honest i don't do recipes anymore; though i do have Jamie Oliver's latest book in the kitchen. i'm having people over for dinner tomorrow night and i am doing italian food. pasta with sausage, rigatoni with meatballs, salad, crusty bread etc. the only thing that i will be making will be the pasta and the salad. there's a fabulous italian shop here where the owner and his wife make everything themselves with amazing love and fantastic ingredients so i don't have to.

- a description of a friend you really value
truthful, patient, forgiving, loyal, and preferably fatter than me.

- your opinion of head lice
well, i'm a bit of an expert on the subject actually. i was responsible for the kids in the nursery school where i worked for many years. i would check their heads regularly and try to help their parents treat them and keep them at bay. it was a hard battle. i can spot nits at 20 paces and know how to remove 'em painlessly.

- a detailed and sequential description of what you did between 12.31 p.m. and 1.07 p.m. today
well today at that time i was having lunch with two of my oldest friends. they are both english and we used to be neighbours on the same street here. we have a lot in common including kids that grew up together. today we were slagging off coronation street for about 1/2 an hr. i was saying how bloody ridiculous it is now, how everyone who lives on the street works on the street and how many murders there have been etc. we had quite the dialogue on that subject. very entertaining it was. we've all actually visited the set at one time or another over the years and we were howling at how filthy and nasty it was and how i put a note thru jim mcdonald's letterbox and told him to clean his windows. btw, none of us would ever dream of missing an episode.

- expressions you use regularly as catchphrases
hmm, i might say the eff word more than i should but only if it's safe. you know, if i know it's not going to offend the person i'm with. i like to eff and blind on occasion it's a good stress reliever but i know me place and don't do it in front of the vicar.

- if you owned your ideal shop, what would it sell? Describe it.
fish and chips. me and my geordie friend fantasize about that. but we reckon we'd be eating the chips faster than we'd sell 'em so it might not work out too well.

- If you could choose any shop to grab as much as you can to keep in 3 minutes, which shop would you choose and why?
have to be a grocery store. i've always fancied doing one of those mad trolley dash things. on your marks, get set and GET OUT OF MY WAY!

- When someone doesn’t take a shine to you, what do you think causes that usually?
molly, come on. have you met me? everybody likes me. silly.

- YOUR FAVOURITE CAPITAL LETTER
well "I" obviously. it's all about me innit?

That was fun. Only 24 to go! Yay!

"A man's face is his autobiography".

2010-11-05T06:00:00.013-04:00

Ooh look at me posting with capital letters.
That's a first.
I just thought I'd change it up a bit.
Because I can.
Because that's the kind of blogger I am.
I don't know if I will keep it up because to be honest it's really boring pressing that shift key every two seconds.
But I thought I'd just give it a go for this post only.
As a sort of 'extra' to my blogging every day.

Well here we are almost at the end of the first week.
Almost.
I know.
Not quite.
How's it going for you?

You didn't think I would keep it up did you?
Oh ye of little faith.
But I did actually start before the beginning of the month and so far I'm in a good routine.
I write something every night and then I schedule it to be posted at 6 a.m. the following day.
Get me!

Now today's post(which of course I'm writing the night before) is a bit of a hodge podge.
I've just finished the ironing and had myself a glass of wine.
Living life on the edge.
But because it's technically not the weekend yet I spritzed that wine with a little something; in case you get the impression I'm over indulging on a week night.
As if.
I mean for most people it's NOT the weekend yet, but for me it is because Fridays are my day off.
I know.
How great is that?
I have the best job in the world.
I only work four days a week.
So anyway.
Seeing as I'm using capitals and that I thought I'd mention the book above.
Because it's only proper to use capitals for someone's name right?

Keith Richards' autobiography.
I want to read it.
I don't think I'm going to buy it tho'.
I passed the book store the other day with my co-worker.
It was on display in the doorway.
"OOh I want to read that." says I grabbing a copy from the cardboard thingy where Keith's ugly mug was scowling out at us.
"Ugh." my co-worker sneered. "I don't think that will be necessary."
"Why?" says I.
"Because you just have to look at that man's face to see what kind of a life HE's led."

That took the wind out of my sails.
I couldn't disagree.
It's written all over it isn't it?

I'll wait till it's on the reduced shelf in a month or so.

Then I might read this one.

Notice how it says, "The wit and wisdom of Keith Richards"?
I might see if that one's in the library.

barefaced, me?

2010-11-04T06:00:00.037-04:00

this morning there was almost a disaster of epic proportions.
the shock waves could well have been felt far and wide.

thankfully, calamity was averted at the last minute.

praise the lord!

luckily for me i spotted the potential catastrophe and was able to prevent it just in the nick of time.

what happened was i was getting ready for work and making my usual preparations.

things were going according to plan.

showered, dressed, hair did.
lunch. packed.
coffee. made.
keys. check.
bag. check.
work keys. check.
work shoes. check.
out the door, a quick glance in the mirror before i go.

"what the?"

aaarrrrgggghhh.

WHO THE HELL IS THAT?

i had to look twice.

this older woman was looking back at me and she didn't look too happy!

no bloody face on.
completely forgotten to do me make-up hadn't i?

as i dropped all of the stuff i had just picked up and trudged back to the make up mirror i may have toyed with the idea of NOT putting any make up on.
for about, oh all of 1/2 a second.

i can only imagine the strange looks i'd have encountered when i turned up to my workplace looking like...
like what?
i don't even know.

the thing is in all my adult life i have never gone anywhere in public (on purpose) without makeup.
that's just sad.
i could maybe have got away with it before.

when i still looked like this sweet little innocent child.

but not now.
let's just say they don't call it foundation for nothing.
they call it that because it's there to shore you up, keep you all together.
lipstick?
it's to stick your lips on.
they'd fall off without it.
and i'm not even kidding.
eye liner?
well there'd be just two holes in the top of your head.
mascara?
two receding holes in the top of your head.

i couldn't even begin to entertain the idea of going to work au naturel.
which i know is pretty sad.
and makes me seem pretty shallow.
but that's just the way i am now.
shallow! to the core!
and it's probably too late to change.

i mean look at these poor saps.

Edie Falco, looking like death warmed up.

Edie Falco looking a bit like Phyllis Diller but at least she's got her face on.

what i'm saying is i'd rather look like marilyn manson in full slap than edie in bare face.

and believe me, you might just be grateful for that too.

;-)

The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind

2010-11-03T06:00:00.001-04:00

i have a new student.
he's a big guy and he looks and sounds like a huge teddy bear and he acts somewhat like one too.
he does have special needs, that's why he comes to our program.
he's in his late 20's and when i interviewed him and asked what his goals were and what he wanted to learn he wiggled his fingers rapidly like a demented pianist and told me he wanted to learn to type,'very fast.'
i was curious.
why?
well, he said, i want to write books and you have to be able to type very fast.
well, you have to be able to 'write' i said, it doesn't matter how fast you can type.
he considered this for a moment.
then he changed his mind.

well, he said, i want to learn to speak latin and also how to go on the internet.
latin?
yes, i want to go on the internet and meet a girl from south america.
i will ask her to marry me and she will become my wife.

i knew i would have my work cut out for me.

he talks a mile a minute and does algebra on scraps of paper in his spare time.
go figure.

however his other skills are sadly lacking.
he barely writes and when he reads he eliminates meaning by never pausing.
everything sounds monotonous and defies comprehension.
his social skills are atrocious.

the other day he was sitting at the table with several other students.
i was sitting opposite.
we were mid discussion in our life skills class.
without so much as a by your leave he raised himself onto one cheek of his rather immense backside and let one rip.
very loudly.
he didn't stop talking or miss a beat.
i was outraged!
i told him in no uncertain terms that he should leave the room to do that.

yesterday morning in the middle of a really busy activity i looked up to see him outside the classroom on the mezzanine.
he seemed to be standing on one leg.
it's a public right of way which we share with several other businesses.
the noise in the class prevented me from hearing him.

why are you in and out, i asked after he sat back down the second time.

well i had to fart, he said nonchalantly, if not a little surprised at my asking.
and you said i had to leave the room.

i guess i did.

and it's my own fault for not being more explicit i suppose.

Blackberry pie

2010-11-02T06:00:00.003-04:00

mobile phones are bad for your health.
i gave mine up because i worried about electro-magnetic fields and the link to brain cancer...
is there one?
is the jury still out on that?
what does Dr. Oz say?

i never quite figured that out but i know since i read a newspaper article on the subject i now stand at the opposite end of the room from the microwave in my kitchen and the photocopier at work.
with the photocopier i feed the paper in, press START and then do a sort of sidestep-run to the doorway.
i get funny looks from people but hey, what can you do?
it's my ovaries that i'm protecting and even tho' i'm not actually using them anymore for their intended purpose, i have become fond of them and don't want them to shrivel up and die.
not until i've shrivelled up and died first anyway.

can't quite remember all of the details of that newspaper article now but i remember getting a fright and wondering to myself whether i could buy one of those aprons that radiographers wear when they x-ray you.
do they sell to the public?

apparently there's a risk with wireless internet too but i haven't completed my research on that subject as yet either.
as soon as Dr. Oz does a segment on it, i'll be good to go.
i shall report back to you.

so not long after i'd come to that decision about not having a phone anymore my other half talked me into getting a blackberry.
he told me that i could BBM with my daughter for free as she has a blackberry too.
she's in england and we email every day anyway but i forgot about that when he said 'blackberry' and 'free' in the same sentence.
i forgot about electro magnetic wotsits and all that stuff.

he did the research first, pre-shopped on our behalf, cos he was getting a new phone too.
then when he'd decided which plans and which servers were better i went with him to the store and picked one up.
the store was in the mall.
so after we'd got our new phones we sat down in the mall in the food court and proceeded to phone each other from our respective devices, across the table.
as you do.
then we practiced texting.
i sent him a voice message and then he texted me a very rude suggestion.
i took a picture of the shocked expression on my face and sent it to him.
he took a picture of his middle finger and sent it back.
i think the people around us thought we were crazy so we eventually got up and left.

as we walked away i was still fiddling with my phone.
which resulted in me not seeing that i was at the top of the steps in the UPPER level of the food court.
must have forgotten that.
i proceeded to walk off the end of the steps and midflight as i realized that i was no longer walking on solid ground, i somehow managed to take all four steps in one massively, deep stride;
a la John Cleese and his "Ministry of Silly Walks", walk.
(you must check that link out to fully understand)
as it dawned on me that i was about to go arse over teakettle i grabbed onto m.o.h. with all of my strength and stepping off the steps brought him along for the ride.
i sort of jump-stepped-flew and miraculously (?) managed to remain upright.
i think i may have dislocated m.o.h's shoulder, but no worry, it could've been worse if i'd fallen cos he'd have hit the deck before me and i'd have landed on top of him.

i knew then without a doubt that i'd made a very big mistake in getting another phone.

technology, as in hand held devices and moi, do not mix.
i have enough problems walking and chewing gum.

i don't think i have long to live.

i should probably stick to this kind of blackberry device in future.
completely safe to use.
not very good at communication however.

Day one.

2010-11-01T06:01:00.049-04:00

my new routine.
every morning I will get up an hour earlier than usual.
let's see that'll be about 5 a.m. cos I'm already an early riser.
i'll make the bed, prepare my lunch, set the washing machine and feed the dog.

i'll run on the treadmill for 30 mins, then i'll blog for another 30 mins.
i will gather my inspiration as i run and then when i sit down it will just flow through me and onto my keyboard.
after that i'll shower, dress, do my hair and make up, set the dishwasher and be out the door by 8.00
i will carry my own fresh brewed coffee to work which saves me stopping at a drive thru and polluting the world with unnecessary fumes and gas consumption.
with the money i save i will sponsor a child in a 3rd world country.
i'll arrive at work by 8.15 after having listened to some classical music on the way in to get my mind right for the day ahead.

during the day i will drink lots of water and take Dr. Oz's recommended vitamin regimen for post menopausal women at the prescribed times to avail myself of their optimum effects.
i will partake of healthy snacks, fresh fruit and veggies perhaps.
i could prepare them the night before, cut up celery etc and carrots and put them into little baggies.
(even prepare a week's worth at a time and take them into work on monday morning and have them in the fridge ready to snack on when i feel the need.)
great idea.
i'll add that to my to-do list.

at lunch i will take a 15 minute stroll outdoors before i sit down to eat.
my lunch will be healthy and nutritious with no extra carbs, additives, sodium, sugar, trans fat or preservatives.
i will not eat standing up.
i will not talk on the phone, write emails or check facebook or my blackberry while i'm eating lunch.

during the course of the day i will be pleasant to all of the people in my classroom.
i won't snarl, yell, curse or put anyone in their place.
even if they're begging for it.
it doesn't do anyone any good to display such futile bursts of temper.
it's much more professional to demonstrate, nay role model, proper behaviour.
i will get the respect i deserve when i show this side of myself.

to my co-worker i will offer a sympathetic ear, a shoulder to lean on and all the support she needs to feel good about herself and to do the best job that she can.
i will prep for my classes the next day at the end of each day and follow up on phone calls and check off things on my to-do list.
i will email my off site supervisor and give her a heads up with any concerns or issues she may need to address at a later date.
i will return emails to any other colleagues.
it's important to keep current and consistent with these things.
once they get out of hand it's difficult to get back on track.
doing it this way will save me so much time in the long run and will be a lot less stressful.
(great idea)

at the end of the day when i leave my workplace my workspace will be neat and organized and ready for my return the next morning.
sort, shred, discard, recycle.
perhaps i will add a plant to the clean space on my desktop.
maybe a photo frame or two.

as i drive home i will stop at the grocery store for fresh meat and vegetables with which to make a healthy and appetizing dinner for my other half.
it's the least i can do.
before he arrives home i will check my appearance in the mirror and freshen up a little.
he deserves no less.

after dinner we will wash up together and then arm in arm, take our dog for a stroll around the block for at least 30 minutes.
a good ending to a perfect day.
....................................................................................................????????????????

WHAT?
you don't think i could do it?
?

no, me either but by god in my head it sounds great when i think about it.

usually i make it to about 8.35 and have done the opposite of everything i mentioned above.

one day.
i can only but dream till then.

NaBlo Whatsit

2010-10-30T16:40:00.002-04:00

I still get email from NaBloPoMo.
whatsat?
not sure really but it's some kind of blogger thingy which means you have to blog every day for the month of november.
there's awards and stuff.
i don't care about that.
it was just the challenge of it.
i attempted this about two years ago and i almost made it.
and i almost went insane trying.
but
as you will see.
i need to do something as right now i'm in danger of getting the
'no blo never blog' award.
cos i'm down to once a month or less at the moment.
and
i'm thoroughly ashamed of myself.
i'm literally hanging my head in shame.

i get the weekly stats email.
how flipping sad is it to read that?
and it's even harder when i come by and read YOUR blog.
there YOU are just posting left right and centre.
funny, witty, insightful.
with your pictures and fancy fonts, sparkly layouts, intellectual content, wise words, baring it all and pouring your heart and soul onto the page.
i feel so INADEQUATE.

i confess to an involuntary curl of the lip when i read your blog and think 'tch. smart arse.'
"why didn't I think of writing about THAT?"
"what's WRONG with me?"

(please, DON'T answer that question.)

anyhoo.
how hard can it be?
you just write something every day and post about it.
everybody reads it and you get tons of followers and lots of lovely comments and stuff.
and with such an interesting life as mine (!) as i say, how hard can it be?
there's never a dull moment here i'm telling you.
well.
maybe one or two.
but surely, i can add a sparkle of humour to the dull as dishwater?
ok, don't answer that question either.

i'm sure lots of people want to know about life in my world.
"?"
how DO i spend my days?
what do i DO?
where DO I go?
who do i do things WITH?
what's it all about? (alfie)

WELL
this month is for YOU!

AND
there'll be pictures too!
come on, how good is that?

er
let me just browse my albums on here and i'll throw one in right now for good measure.
hang on,
back in a sec.

look at THAT!

I just clicked on a random file and this is what i found.
i'd saved it a long time ago.
a pictorial demonstration of the blogging process by Molly Potter's amazingly creative and amusing mind.
this is a link to her blog Just Pleasantly Floundering Around.
isn't that fabulous?

see that was easy.
i didn't have to try too hard and look how amused you are already.

piece of cake!
AND
it's not even november yet.
so i'm off and running.
on a roll.

i like this blogging lark.
;-)

p.s. i'm going out tonight and just MIGHT have a little hangover tomorrow so don't expect too much will you?
p.p.s. did you notice that i underlined, bolded and added colour to some of the writing on here?
yep, november's going to be FUN!

Looking Back

2010-10-01T15:56:00.000-04:00

28 years.
!!
no, not since I posted.

:-)

but almost.

no, it's over 28 years since we arrived in Canada.

we arrived with six suitcases, two little boys aged 8 and 4, two teachests of 'stuff' and 200 dollars.
items not listed in order of importance.
it just seemed like such an adventure.

we arrived with nothing.

and still have most of it left.

mr. clippy had been here for 3 months.
he was the 'advance' party.

we had no family here.
no friends.
no home to come to.
just an apartment on the 'bad end of the street'.

it was the end of january 1982.
it was freezing, snowing, blowing and icy.
we had never experienced weather like it.
the weather did not suit our clothes.

we had no car.
we had little furniture: hubby had found an apartment and we bought beds and bedding and a couch and chair.
we had 2 teachests full of 'stuff' from england.
we had 6 suitcases containing all of our worldly goods.

soon we bought some second hand stuff; a table and chairs etc.
I honestly thought we would give it a few years and if it didn't work out we'd just go home again.
but
as we know,
you can never go home again.

at first we couldn't afford to go back.
it would be 5 years before we did.
and then when we could, it felt like it was too late.
the kids were settled in schools, had friends, sports, teams, grades.
then girlfriends.
jobs.
and then got married.
and now they have their own children.

after 3 years here we had a Canadian kid.
just to cement the deal.
SHE's the one that went to live in England a few years ago.
figure that one out.

at first me and the kids were only here on visitor's permits and we had to lie to immigration officials at our interviews applying for permanent status.
mr. clippy had a temporary work permit.
we had to tell them we had assets - as in things such as houses and goods worth money which we would sell and bring to Canada.
that was the furthest thing from the truth.
with no assets we thought they'd be sure to reject us.

we knew that we had to leave england.
our prospects there with maggie thatcher were dim.
only the dole queue to look forward to.
and we'd already had enough of that.

sometimes I wanted to go home.
but then I'd think, 'where IS home?"
28 years.
it's longer than i lived in england.

in fact i was not quite 28 when we left.
married woman with two boys, aged nine and four.

we missed out on a lot of things in england.
most of all, the family things which only happen once; births, weddings and, inevitably, deaths.
life continued without us while we started a new life here.

anyway, it just seems like yesterday in many ways.
the time has flown, as time will do.

you never know which way life will take you.

the worst thing about living here?
the winters.
i will NEVER get used to them.
the best thing?
the other 3 seasons.

i never thought that i would still be here after all of this time.
i still get homesick.

what keeps me busy.

2010-08-24T08:50:00.008-04:00

this week i am babysitting owen for a few days.
let's just call him mr. push-it, prod-it, poke-it, press-it, pry-it-open and topple it over.

because that's what he does.
he's 16 months.
that's what babies his age do of course.
they want to know.
they want to see.
they want to touch.
then they want to go back and do it all again.
mind you, he does all of this whilst looking very cute and inquisitive the whole time.

my favourite thing is when he picks up the remote control, puts it to his ear and says

'hewwo.'

it kills me.
his language skills are improving.
he copies what you say.

as in, 'owie, do you want a banana?'

'nanana'

it's very,very cute.
i'm sure you agree.

okay, you might not think that's the cutest most adorable thing ever.
i was going to include a 2 minute video of him eating toast and peanut butter which is even cuter.
so think yourself lucky.

i do have 3 other grandkids, so don't think i'm playing favourites here.
each of them is adorable in their own right.
more than adorable in fact.
want me to prove it?

Wow, the wonder of it all.

Miss Nora Boo

Cousins: aka Double Trouble, JBug and Benny Ben

Juju the Tiger

Owen: I'm watching you!

Did somebody call 911?

Your Saturday morning soccer stars

Ben the patriot

come on!

how adorable is that?

life is good.

:-)

nothing to report

2010-08-17T13:40:00.000-04:00

at the moment.
but hopefully the drought will be over soon.
cheers me dears.
your pal,
clippy ;-)

In which Clippy encounters wildlife. (nearly)

2010-06-13T11:18:00.003-04:00

a couple of weeks ago my other half and i were having a nice sunday stroll through a picturesque little nearby town. we happened to walk past what reminded me of a very pretty english-looking garden. hunkered down among the perennials and tall flowers, i spied a cat with very long ears, lounging carelessly, as only cats can do.
looking right back at me.
i remarked on the size of those ears to my husband.
'it's a fox' he said.
"?"
obligingly, just then the cat stood up and took off.
leaving me in no doubt that i don't get out and about enough.

a few weeks ago kee called me and told me that a coyote had walked in front of her house at dusk the previous evening.
as bold as brass.
the nerve of the thing.
kee lives at the bottom of my street so it's quite possible that this coyote or its friends and family may have also visited my end of the neighbourhood.
further proof of the coyote's existence was backed up by a friend who was driving to our house one night when he saw it nonchalantly cross the road in front of his vehicle.
i never saw a thing.

and i was disappointed.

last year my other half and i were walking our dog on a nearby street where the houses back onto a steep and overgrown ravine.
between two houses, about 100 yards away, i saw what looked like a small pack of dogs milling around in the open back yard at the top of the ravine.
'look at those dogs!' i exclaimed, surprised to see six or seven of them together and slightly afraid that a pack might be tempted to attack us and swallow our little bella in one gulp after first tearing her limb from limb.
perhaps the home owner has a private kennel in their backyard i mused aloud to my husband.
'they're wild turkeys.' he replied.
with a sigh.

the next day kee who as i said, lives at the bottom of the street where it bends around the corner, phoned down to tell me that six wild turkeys were heading my way. walking in the middle of the road.
turkeys on a mission?
she sounded excited.
i ran outside to get a glimpse.
but.
they didn't make it this far.
at the bottom of the street where the bend straightens out, they cut across a neighbour's front yard and accessed the ravine from there depriving me of seeing those same strange waddling creatures again.

but.
two weeks ago i was driving the highway to work.
part of the road runs through the countryside.
at the side of the road in the bushes up ahead i could see two large black garbage bags.
how can people wilfully throw out their garbage like that, i fumed?
the garbage bags seemed to be moving.
?
i slowed down for closer inspection.
mr and mrs wild-turkey were sitting comfortably in the ditch minding their own business and perhaps even waiting for traffic to slow down so they could cross.
or not.
they didn't look particularly bothered either way.
i was tickled to see them but had no one to share the sight with, sadly.

last week i was driving a student to visit another location where he will transfer in september.
as we were on the bridge crossing the river i spotted what looked like a very large footstool abandoned at the side of the road.
'look at the footstool.' i pointed out by way of making conversation.
'it's a turtle'. the student said.
i was passed it by this time so i turned around at the next set of lights in order to head back and verify that a) he was wrong, and b) if it was a turtle then it must have escaped from the galapagos islands because they don't get that big around here.
do they?

we doubled back and i explained to my reluctant companion that if it was indeed a stranded turtle then we would have to get it out of harm's way by picking it up from the rear, as opposed to the business end, and guide it safely back to the river.

as we passed it on the other side of the road i could see that it was indeed not a footstool, as it was walking quite happily along the grass verge.
it was massive!
we doubled back but by the time we got to the bridge on the same side as the ~~footstool~~ turtle, it was gone.
when we got back from our trip i told the story to my co-worker who lives near the river.
'it was a snapping turtle.' she explained.
patiently.
(i'm not from these parts, what can i say?)
they do indeed get to be that size, she confirmed.
she told me that had we approached it from the rear (so to speak) it could have stretched its neck all the way around and its head would have whipped out and snapped right onto my fingers.
well not 'my' fingers exactly.
i was going to let the student do that part.
but still.
it's a good job for ~~his~~ our sake that that nasty old footstool found its way back to the river bank under its own steam.

not many days later while driving near that same location and scanning the perimeters for signs of wildlife or abandoned footstools, i spotted up ahead on the road what looked like the remnants of a massive squashed pie which i at first pictured as flying out of the back of an unsecured, speeding pie van.
(a mad baker in a massive hurry to an event for which he was late was my guess.)
i had to look away quickly when i came up alongside.
"?!!"
not pies then.

i am always on the look out for wildlife and longing for encounters with nature.
my other half is usually the one to spot them, or i should say, to correctly identify them.
we were cycling on the parkway once.
he was in front and i was peddling madly behind in an attempt to keep up.
the majestic niagara river was on our right.
the green and dense parkland on our left.
"DEAR!" m.o.h. called back to me.
'eh? what?'
not his usual term of endearment for me.
i looked up turning my attention to his rear end instead of my madly spinning front wheel.

"DEAR!'
"WHAT IS IT?'
"ON YOUR LEFT!" he bellowed, not even slowing down.
"aah!" my head shot up.
a group of deer, does and fawns, were idly nibbling at the overgrown shrubs oblivious to our going by.
a lovely sight.
'OH! DEER!'
i would've missed them completely.

we caught a large raccoon in a humane trap once in the backyard in our previous house.
we were trying to catch a skunk that was tearing up the lawns.
we, and when i say WE, i of course mean HE, as in my other half, the great white hunter, was going to catch the skunk in the trap and release it into the wild.
that was the plan.
the baited trap was put out one night.

the next morning other half had an early shift.
at four a.m. when he went out in the dark he saw that something was in the trap.
and it wasn't very happy.
a large raccoon had wandered in and took the bait.
and was, stuck.
what to do?
he couldn't release it right there in the confines of our yard.
no means of escape.
for him that is, not the raccoon.
in the dark he wouldn't be able to see where it was going.
there could be an unwanted encounter.
shining a flashlight revealed large, sharp claws and a hissing and growling, most irate beast.
those raccoons live well in these here parts and can grow to quite a size.
intending to release the creature into the countryside en route to work he made room in the trunk of his car by removing a very large set of golf clubs.

enter ma in law, aka great nanny noo noo, who was on her annual visit from blighty and who, she maintained, had been kept awake night after night by what she described as 'creditors' (predators) on the patio.

i have explained, in vain, that any predators are far, far north of us.

she'd heard some scuffling, saw a light go on and off and leaping excitedly from her bed had dashed, not yet fully awake, downstairs to investigate.
she couldn't contain herself at the thought of what had been caught by her son, the great white hunter.
a minute too late.
the crate and raccoon had left for pastures new in the trunk of the car.

flinging open the patio door she stepped outside before the dawn's early light and out of the corner of her eye she felt, rather than saw, the presence of a large, looming, dark outline behind her. something that wasn't there the day before. something that shouldn't be there now.

" BEAR! BEAR!" she screamed.

only to turn around and see her son's golf clubs - standing erect in the dark corner.
which, in their protective cover were a good foot higher than usual.

she and I have a lot in common it would seem.

the wanderer returns

2010-06-09T07:07:00.002-04:00

let's just draw a veil (again) over the last month or two.

drag that big, old, dusty harp out of the cupboard and get that woman to run her delicate fingers deftly up and down the strings with that strange music which signifies the passage of time.

and then we shall move forward.

unfortunately, i can't explain my absence because it's top secret, involves undercover work for the FBI, CIA, MI5 etc.

and, frankly,

you wouldn't understand.

and

if i told you then of course i'd have to kill you and i have come to like you very much.

so try not to ask.

you don't really want to know.

but let me just say this.

i've missed you.

this morning i fired up the computer after i macheted away the massive overgrown tangle of vines and weeds which had so quickly consumed it.

i brushed off the cobwebs and clicked on my blog to see if it was still there.

and it was.

surprise!
sigh of relief.

so i clicked on the first link on my sidebar which just happened to be this one.

i read the last five or six posts on there, as i haven't even been able to read o.p's blogs during my undercover mission of the last month or two.

(i can tell you this, my cover was that i was a middle aged woman who didn't know anything about the world wide web and such things as blogs. and that's all i can tell you, so don't push me.)

so then after i'd read the last few posts on this blog i realized i was chuckling out loud.

LOL-ing in fact.

and it's been a while!

and i was thinking of leaving a comment to say how much i'd enjoyed those posts.

but then,

i thought

i'd have to come out and blow my cover.

but THEN i realized/remembered

my mission was over!

and in fact my mission was accomplished.
and i could now
return
to my former identity.
aka clippy mat

it's been hard to shake off the alter ego.

i became so immersed in that character.

she's an all consuming kinda creature.

i will just tell you this.

that blog and those posts cracked me up.

and i realize what i've been missing.
so
i decided to write this.

i hope to be able to stick around for a while.
unless i'm needed somewhere else.
you never can tell in my line of work.
;-))

Lakeland Jo. This one's for you!

2010-04-16T21:01:00.002-04:00

I know, in my last post I said I was going to hand out those lovely awards I was given and I never got around to it.
However, I do have one here which I'm going to pass on to Lakeland Jo as a way of sending her some love and moral support.
I popped over to Jo's blog today and got a shock to read that she has recently received the very bad news that she has cancer, for the second time. I really feel bad for her and you know what it's like, you feel like you get to know people a bit when you follow their lives and their ups and downs on a blog. I'm glad that she has been able to share this news with others. It can only do good. I hope it helps her.
I think Jo and I started blogging roughly at the same time. She's a Geordie lass like me. She's a lucky woman who lives in one of the most beautiful spots in the world. The Lake District in England.
I've followed her blog reading about her fantastic success with weight loss and her love of Newcastle United, Florida and people in general. I just can't imagine what she's going through and I know she's been knocked sideways. I know she has a good husband and son and a close relationship with her mother and a loving family around her. I learned that on her blog.
See, I do know her.
Jo will have a struggle ahead of her and though I'm lucky to have no first hand experience of the same, I know that it will be a hard road during the treatment, which is to come. I just want her to know that there are people who are willing her to stay strong and who are on her side. That she will have people who are thinking of her and hoping she's doing well, who will be keeping her and her family in their thoughts and prayers.
If you don't know Jo just pop over there and get acquainted and if you do, then pop in again and give her a bit of love.

This is my award for Jo.

Hugs to you hinny,
Clippy Mat :-)

just another day in paradise

2010-03-27T10:18:00.006-04:00

ah saturday morning.
i'm just waiting for the bucket of hot water and bleach to do its stuff in the downstairs bog.

there's a bit of a blockage and i have a plunger on standby.

i'm sure YOU are lying on a table in a candle-lit room, in an exclusive spa somewhere, nibbling on peeled grapes, listening to gently filtered classical music as DOLF kneads your knotty bits.

if so, then please, dear reader, do not linger any longer over that mental image i just opened with.

hush,

go back to your dreams.

i, clippy mat, will handle the nastiness of reality while you relax.

don't mention it.

and while i'm waiting for the chemical reaction to occur before i go in with plunger in both hands, i shall share some loveliness with you.

awards.

i like me some awards.

and i like them even better when somebody gives one to ME!

so here are two that even sandra bullock, to the best of my knowledge, never got.

and the nicest thing about them is that tomorrow, as i bask with self-satisfied smugness in such good fortune, i won't learn via some seedy tabloid that my other half was hanging out with a tattooed whore while i was otherwise 'busy'.

this one was given to me by

my bloggy buddy, Fly in the Web
a lovely lady who lives in France.
a sunshine award.
how fitting today mes amis.
apropos n'est-ce pas?
in order to accept this award, i have to fulfill some obligations, which escape me just now.
but alas my obligations to the downstairs bog have taken precedence over all else at the moment.
i shall do it.
i promise.

my next award was just bestowed by this likely lass
who stands guard on hadrian's wall.
i was born and bred on the other end of the wall,
and to preserve its history we built houses and shipyards over top of it and cobbled the streets around about.
but,
what did we know?
luckily Hadriana is making sure that all that is swept under the rug and she won't tell anyone what we did.

all i have to do to accept this award is to 'share my flair'.
and
after i have uncorked the bog that's just what i intend to do.

i hope your saturday is just as lovely as mine.
and that nothing bungs up your day. (click for funny pic.)
;-)

reasons to be cheerful

2010-03-04T22:31:00.001-05:00

i went to a 'celebration brunch' today.
it was for adult learners who have come back to school to upgrade their literacy and basic skills.
that would be my students.
and it was for the instructors.
that would be me.
after the intros were done by the MC and the guest speaker (who i will tell you about next time) had finished her inspiring talk, the mike was passed around the room to each table so that participants could say what their past struggles were and how being back in school was going to, or had, changed their lives.
i had taken 4 students with me.
carefully selected for their ability to dress and behave in a manner that is considered publicly acceptable.
believe me it was not an easy choice:
not everyone among my students would be able to adhere to this criteria.
i might explain that on top of being challenged academically, most of my students have intellectual disabilities.
we are not part of the mainstream.
one of them, BJ, i have mentioned before.
he's a complete ham.
and
he's a total anglophile.
speaks with a great southern english accent,
tho' he was born and raised in canada, albeit the child of english parents.
he has a thing about me because i have an accent.

he knows i am from newcastle and he, as do many misguided people for reasons known only to themselves, supports man utd. soccer team.
let's just glance over that then.

he loves to rib me about newcastle united.
he's really got it into his head that it bothers me.
and i let him think that it does.

any---waaaay.
back to the mike.
here it comes and i could feel BJ's anticipation as it worked its way around the room.
at the other tables the participants are telling their stories of triumph over disaster.
there's tales of abuse, tales of addictions, tales of woe.
tales about being a parent and not being able to read to one's children.
there's a feeling of hope in the air as they describe their new lease on life, a new purpose.
they all commend their teachers: if it wasn't for them, etc etc.
there was hardly a dry eye in the house.

the mike arrives at our table and the other 3 students pretend they don't see it.
but never mind, BJ has and he's on his feet in an instant as he grabs it greedily from the MC.
i should say, he's dressed impeccably, sort of like a middle aged british civil servant circa 1950.
and, i might mention,
he's 21.
i believe he was reared on a diet of benny hill, mr bean and keeping up appearances.
he can recite episodes of brit-coms chapter and verse;
impersonate british characters from old movies and sounds a bit like the fella from pathe news when he's in full rant.

he begins.
in his well rounded BBC english.
a plum in his gob, as me mother would say.
for some reason he likes to illustrate his points by saying 'bloody this and bloody that' as often as he can fit it in.
he thinks it's 'proper english.'
"good evening ladies and gentlemen (no matter that it's actually 11.30 in the morning)
"i want to tell you a little bit about myself."
and he does.
for about 2 minutes.
he mentions his struggles with some learning difficulties at school and how they had affected his ability to get a job.
it was quite interesting and i could see people were intrigued with this 'english fella'.

then,
he was off.

"my teacher, he began, and heads turned expectantly my way, as others waited to hear just what kind of instrumental change MY lessons had been in BJ's life.
... is a bloody Newcastle United supporter."
oh sh*t.
you could have heard the proverbial pin.
mainly because the room was full of people who neither knew nor cared who or what newcastle united was.
"...and as we ALL bloody well know," he ranted like some old drunk down the pub, "N.U.F.C. is the worst CRAP team in the whole of the bloody UK! and MY team manchester united is the best."

oh God, somebody take the mike off him.

i looked around and smiled feebly.
he was on a roll and i could see that he felt he was doing a stand up routine worthy of any comedian.
he paced around the table as he spoke, one hand in his pocket the other handling the mike like a speaker to the manner born.

"i hate Math (which he pronounced maath) he announced "and SHE bloody well makes me learn it. it's a bloody waste of time actually.
i tried to laugh.
"and now", he carried on regardless, "i shall leave you with a joke."
whereupon he proceeded to tell everyone about his (last?) visit to buckingham palace (naturally he's obsessed with royalty and thinks that being english means you are only one step away from being royal) and how he went to pet the queen's corgi but when he bent down he realized it was actually camilla.
?!?
somebody at the next table laughed loudly.
i have a feeling it wasn't at the joke tho'.

when the MC took the micropohone from him he sat back down looking very content and most pleased with himself.
''i can't wait to get back to class and tell everyone how well i did.' he said smugly.
"i can't wait to get back to class either." i replied.

"you know what, pat?" he said,
"no, what?"
"i think i went over very well. when's the next celebration? i think they might want me back."

i love this kid.
;-)

no way back

2010-03-03T07:57:00.001-05:00

last night i went to the movies after work.
i like to think i live on the edge.
it was cheap night tuesday.
which meant less than $5 admission.
i was thrilled.
i went to see shutter island with leonardo di caprio.
well not WITH him of course, but believe me, if he'd asked, i would have.
i really liked this movie.
it kept me on the edge of my seat for over 2 hrs.
except for one point where the suspense built and built and then
SUDDENLY
i screamed
"JESUS!"
at the top of my voice and my popcorn went in several directions at once.
mostly on the head of the man in front.
THAT could have been embarrassing but luckily everyone else jumped at the same time so there was a lot of popcorn flying about.
before the movie i went for a bit of retail therapy with my friend from work and then we went for something to eat.
just to a dept. store restaurant in the mall where we work.

now.
i have to tell you about a life changing experience.
a life defining moment in fact.
they had a 'senior's menu'.
for "55 and up."
$6 including beverage and a dessert.

i realized something right there and then.
that it all came down to the choices on that menu.
pick from the main menu for regular people and pay full price
OR
pick from the little insert 'seniors' menu',

my heart beat a little faster.
i think i heard a violin start to play.
was it TIME?
am i really THERE now?
when did it come to THIS?
will life as i know it ever be the same if i go there?
does this mean bifocals on a chain, comfy shoes, dentures, bright cardies and high waisted elastic pants?
people speaking louder and more slowly when i'm around?
and my kids and grandkids slowly shaking their heads and exchanging knowing looks as i fail to grasp the concept of things.
'poor NaNa."

i was sweating.

well,
you know what happened right?
what?
Leo Di Caprio came storming in yelling,
'NO-O-O CLIPPY! DON'T! DON'T DO IT! COME BACK!"

alas, not quite.

i held the menu and pointed to the selection on the seniors menu when the waitress came to take my order.
yes, it was a picture menu.
i felt sad!
Changed!
Defined!
i was at once demoralized, humbled, AGED and yet, strangely elated.
SIX BUCKS?
bring it.
the whole night cost me under $20.
"now get outta my way sonny."

Who's on first?

2010-02-26T16:07:00.004-05:00

"There are really only three things to learn in skiing: how to put on your skis, how to slide downhill, and how to walk along the hospital corridor." Lord Mancroft

Lord Mancroft is a very smart man.

the winter olympics have been on for about four weeks now right?
that means only about another three to go i think.
i don't like snow (gasp). i know this is canada.
and i don't like doing anything in it so i am baffled by those who like to suit up and play in it.
they skate, ski, sled, and do all manner of 'fun' things.
(we won't mention curling here because i have no idea what the hell that's supposed to be.)
can sweeping ice really be a sport?
throwing rocks is medal worthy?
and don't have the sound up too loud on the TV while curling is on or the neighbours will think you're watching porn when they shout,
"HUR-RY! HURRY HARD!"
?
i.
don't.
get.
it.

i like my olympics warm.
where the uniforms don't involve multi-coloured latex str-e-tch-ed very tightly over body parts, leaving nothing to the imagination and making me see things i don't really want to.
from unusual angles.

i went skiing once.
well twice actually.
the second time i went was just to confirm that the first time wasn't a fluke.
that it really was as cold, wet, miserable and uncomfortable as i thought it was the first time.
and
it's dangerous!
(see above quote from lord wotsit).

i was just watching the downhill skiers on TV, competing in the slalom, flying out of the gate and knocking over poles at the rate of knots.
and skate boarders racing alongside each other as they defy gravity.
how do they stay upright?
and when they don't.....
is your body really supposed to be able to bounce and twist like that?

i admire the athletes who do these things.
their dedication fills my heart with pride.
their single mindedness.
they give up everything in the quest to win a medal.
to compete.
so i can sit at home in the comfort of my cosy family room.
in my leather recliner,
with a glass of wine,
in front of my great big, flat-screen TV,
(showing just how cold/wet/snowy/miserable it REALLY is - in high def.)
preferably with the fireplace on,
and criticize them when they do something wrong.
if they're not, god forbid, quite fast enough for my liking.
listening to the commentators who say things like;
'she just returned after two years of rehabilitation for a broken sacrum'
what?
i don't even know if i have a sacrum.
nor do i want to know what's involved in breaking one.
or
"she/he broke 17 bones/both knees/pelvis/dislocated a shoulder last month but they're strapped up and she/he's going to ski/skate/snowboard/ through it."
eh?
is he/she INSANE?

just after he came in from shovelling the driveway for two hours so that he could get a vehicle out and drive to work this afternoon, my other half remarked as he watched the downhill skiers do their stuff,
'that reminds me of you.'
"?"
i was confused
"the skiers?"
"no, the fences." he pointed to the corner of the screen where the athletes whizzed past the barriers.
he had a far away look in his eye.
"it reminds me of when you said you wanted to try skiing. and you had an hour's lesson first and the instructor told you that by the time the lesson was over you'd be able to ski. but after one hour all you did was get your poles and skis stuck in the fence when you went sideways off the bunny hill with your arse sticking up in the air and you peed yourself with fright."
"oh yeah. thanks. now i remember."
"and all the little kids were laughing at you."
"and then the instructor shook his head and left."
"YES!" i said. "i do remember, thank you."
my body still hurts when i think about it.

p.s. update: I just posted this and went on a 'blog read' and came across this post at expat mum's blog. coincidence? i don't think so. i rest my case.

stay warm people.

:-)

I Heart Tom Brokaw

2010-02-20T10:12:00.003-05:00

Although I was born and lived in England for the first 28 years of my life, I have now lived in Canada for the same length of time.
My heart belongs to both countries for many reasons.
Here is just one reason why a large part of my heart now belongs to Canada: told so eloquently by Tom Brokaw.
I hope everyone is enjoying the Olympics.
I know for sure Canada is.
:-)

A love story.

2010-02-18T23:47:00.004-05:00

let us draw a veil over the last month and ignore the fact that there have been no posts on this blog other than a youtube video.
which, let's be honest, is not REALLY a blog post is it?
okay, moving right along.

and now,
somebody get their harp out and twang them chords that sound like time passing please.

ahh that's better.

NOW,
gather round and let me tell you a tale of love and romance that will warm the heart of your cockles.

my co-worker, whose name is betty but whom i shall call hetty for purposes of concealing her true identity and protecting her privacy, is a widow.
of about 5 years standing.
life used to be full and her cup ranneth over.
THEN.
but now, it's just a bit empty.

today, i realized the true extent of her lonliness as she showed me some old photos of herself on facebook where she was snorkelling or scuba diving ( i confess i don't know if there's a difference).
no matter.
i saw that she misses that life.
things have changed.
she used to have fun and DO things.
it's just different now.

i said, ~~betty~~ "hetty, you need a man."
she sighed that yes, she did, but what were her chances as opportunities to meet men were somewhat non existent these days.
however, she said, a bit too hopefully, a drunken man HAD chatted her up last weekend at a family bonfire.
ooh.
i perked up.
do tell.
he looked like a mouse she said.
he had a long narrow face with unpleasant brown skin tones.
(caused by not standing close enough to the mirror during morning ablutions).
he had a long stringy beard which ended in a pointy knotted thing.
not the most endearing image i thought.
(as i pictured Fagin from Oliver Twist.)
but i held out hopes for a warm pesonality or perhaps a brilliant sense of humour by way of compensating for his dire lack of physical attributes.

he was drinking a lot and reminiscing in a loud voice about the old days when she was married to her now deceased husband.

'they were the good days eh hetty?' he called out several times.
'good times hetty! eh? eh?'
he would shout across the flames of the fire to her.
'hetty. you're looking good!'
"looking GOOD!"
'hetty, you are hard core eh?'

(apparently this meant that she too appreciated the outdoor life as did he.
standing around a bonfire in midwinter during the late evening hours is definitely hard core in my book.)
one point to him.

'hetty, you're a good looking woman eh? i remember you and joe (hetty's dead husband)
"you had good times eh?'
'eh hetty? GOOD TIMES!" he yelled.
'eh? eh?'
he said 'eh' a lot.
every time he yelled something at her, everyone else in the group would stop talking, shuffle and look at the ground.

he was, in fact, a hideous fella.
no redeeming characteristics at all.
ugly.
drunk.
obnoxious.
ahh, every woman's dream.
the hope of a desperate widow perhaps?

'do you want me to walk ye back to the house hetty? eh?" he would roar.

then, finally, after repeating these endearments many times, even though she'd long since stopped nodding by way of acknowledging his comments, and was pretending she coudln't hear or even see him, he yelled across the bonfire his piece de resistance.

'hetty? whaddya weigh eh?'

??

be still my heart.
has ever a more suave pick up line been uttered?
how she stopped herself from leaping across the great divide into his arms and surrendering herself to such warmth and charm i will never know.

she saw him again a few days later when he stopped by the family business to pick something up.
he looked right through her.
as one stranger to another.

we agreed that she may have to strike further afield in the quest to find companionship and a replacement for her former love.

love is a battlefield.
;-)

Everybody Hurts

2010-02-08T06:55:00.002-05:00

everybody sit up straight.

2010-01-14T07:09:00.001-05:00

work keeps me busy.
sometimes i go in early and sometimes i stay late.
but not all of the time.
i'm learning.
the ministry of fun, aka my employer, has decided in its infiinite wisdom, that everything old is out and everything new is in.
a government initiative don't you know?

we had visitors from the ministry of fun the other day.
our fearless leader, who works off site, didn't accompany them this time.
so it was just me, my co-worker and the two bigwigs.
and 15 'mature' students.
mature as in their ages, i.e. 18- 65
perhaps not so mature in some other ways.

the bigwigs wanted to 'observe'.
they wanted us to 'explain' our program delivery under the new mandate.
i decided it might be best to let the students 'explain'.

'go ahead.' i offered. 'why don't YOU explain to these big wigs WHY you are here, what your goals are and HOW this program is helping you work towards those goals."

after all if i'm not delivering the goods as the M.O.F. requires then this must surely filter down to the learners.
no?
yes.

i wouldn't say they let me down, they didn't.

but let's just say, some of them may have wandered away from the main idea. occasionally.
supplying details of their personal lives, relationships and social activities as well.
all most interesting.
one of the big wigs seemed to be enthralled.
the other, not so much.

ah well.
fire me.
it gave me a laugh anyway.

and that's what the M.O.F. is all about.

right?

the customer is always right. except, of course, when she's wrong.

2009-12-30T22:23:00.003-05:00

disclaimer: if you don't like long winded, lo-o-ng, drawn out blog posts where the writer complains a LOT and moans at length, then better you just keep moving. this one's for ME!

today i went to wal-mart.
much as it pains me to admit it.
so it serves me right.

the place is under renovation and it's huge.
make that HUGE.
now i know wal-mart already owns most of the free world and has put the rest of the competition out of business, which, in itself, makes me hate them enough to stay away.
and i realize they don't care whether I shop there.
or not.
my measly contribution is not even a drop in their immense bucket.

BUT i am NOT.
ever.
going to shop there ever again.
NEVER.
i made my mind up about that today.
it feels quite freeing now that i've made the decision.

we went to enlarge some photos of her great grandchildren for great nanny noo noo who returns to england next week after a xmas visit with us.
enlarged the 3x5's to 6x8's.
only to find that wallymart doesnt sell frames to fit that size pic.
they had 5x7 or 8x10 frames.
i thought i'd try putting a mat over top of the 6x8 to see how they would look in a frame with a 5x7 opening, if you follow?

endless hunt around the store.
did i mention it's HUGE?
only to be sent on wild goose chases by staff who know less than me about where their stock is.
or what it is.
or, indeed, what it's for.

found out they don't sell photo mats now.
apparently, 'nobody wants them anymore.'
apart from me that is.
imagine.
me: the only one in the world who wants to buy photo mats.
who knew?

and
clerk was unable to answer my nice and polite enquiry as to why they MAKE 6x8 photos when they don't, in point of fact, SELL the frames to fit the said photos.
?
went back to the photo dept to pick up another pic i'd had enlarged.
it was a nice pic of my little grandson.
the child with the blond hair.
and the lovely smile.
to discover they had decapitated most of it.
his blond-haired head that is.
!?
clerk tried to slide the pic into a large envelope without me seeing it.
i'd made the mistake of paying for it first.
i saw it.
i drew her attention to the top of or, to be more accurate, the lack of a top, on my little grandson's blond-haired head.
she said, by way of explanation,
'this is what happens when you enlarge portrait pictures.'
"?!"
followed promptly with, as she thrust it towards me,
'if you don't like it, take it to customer service and get your money back. i don't do that here.'

keep in mind, i'd had to wander aimlessly around the store for an hour until the bloody picture was developed in the first place.
did i now feel like joining a massive line up for a $2.57 refund?
?

during that hour i'd gone on a hunt for adult games.
please.
try to get your mind out of the gutter.
not THOSE kind of adult games.
i mean the kind that adults play at parties.
not THOSE kind of parties.
the kind where you answer trivia questions before the timer runs out, or guess the mime, or draw a picture to illustrate a phrase, all before the buzzer goes.
THAT kind of game.
we had a party last week and played those kind of games, and it was a lot of fun.
we do have very dull lives compared to yours i'm certain.
so i was on the hunt for one of the games we played, which a friend had brought to the party.
i looked in the toys/games section.
seemed like an obvious place to look.
but
only children's games.
went in search of a clerk.
do i never learn?

"Hi! where do you keep your adult games?"
"?"
"not THOSE kind of games."
etc. etc.

lightbulb went on.

"oh yeah like trivial pursuit, like monopoly and like all that stuff?"
'"yes, sort of."
"over in the toys/games section".
"no. you don't."
"yes we do."
"no. you don't. i just spent 10 minutes over there and you only have children's games."
scratches head.
thinks.
a light bulb glowed dimly.
'toys r us?'
i wasn't sensing promotion in this kid's future..
but in hindsight,
managerial material for sure.

after i picked up the pics we made our way to the check out.
there are now 31 checkouts in this wallymart.
inevitably, only 6 were open.
necessitating massive lines of unhappy shoppers and dangerous carts.
everywhere.

there was an express line.
i had six items.
so i went to express.
fool that i am.

NOW i know.

in wallymart express does not mean express in the true sense of the word.
it actually means, "stand over here and shut up. we'll get to you eventually. in our own sweet time, not yours!"
i joined the end of a queue which snaked around those cattle herding barrier things.
which i HATE.
i'm british.
WE know how to form a queue without the aid of barriers.
WE invented queuing for god's sake.
WE are famous, amongst other important things, for queuing.
there were 3 check outs open in the express lanes.
it took me 10 minutes to get 'expressed.'
my blood pressure rose a little with every minute.

'did you find everything you were looking for?'
the clerk, who is programmed to do so, enquired, as she rang up my purchases.
as i'd heard her ask every customer ahead of me.
minefield.
and she didn't see it coming.
'actually no.' i responded.
'just the opposite."
"in fact." i explained, " the whole wal-mart shopping experience has been an exercise in futility and one which i hope NEVER to have to repeat.'

deaf ears.
"cash or debit?"
she smiled.
as she packed my items into a plastic carrier bag.
the lid came off.
"DO NOT!" i think i hissed. 'put my items into a walmart carrier bag! i have my own bag. i am certainly not going to promote or do FREE advertizing for THIS store.'
great nanny noo noo had made a bit of distance between myself at the till, and herself, at the end of the check out line where she waited for me to complete my transactions.
she looked around, anxiously, to see if anyone had noticed the mad woman at checkout 3.
as in, ME.

and one more thing.

i've started.
so i'll finish.

in october i went to another large chain store.
i'm not going to name them.
okay, who cares?
they are called l~~osers,~~ WINNERS.

i bought a coat.
it cost me $200.
it was black wool and long, below the knee.
just what i wanted.
i thought.
smart.
and, hopefully, sophisticated.

i wore it last week for the first time.
and therein lay my mistake.
as i walked along the street feeling smart and hoping that i looked it, i heard a 'ping'.
followed by another 'ping.'
i saw 2 buttons rolling along the sidewalk.
in 2 different directions.
both of them away from me.
i only caught one.
the other went down a grating or maybe a sewer.
i couldn't see it.
the wind was whipping my hair into my eyes but my hands were clutching my billowing coat shut.
against the icy wind.

as i arrived at my appointment i no longer looked like the confident, well dressed woman i had hoped to portray.
i looked the opposite of this to be frank.
and
the coat now seemed to be a sort of magnet for attracting lint.
white fluff.
magnetic dust.
everywhere.
all over me.
i resembled a walking lint roller.
i looked like a woman who had taken a shabby coat from a homeless person as an act of kindness.
to save them the embarrassment of looking dishevelled.

that afternoon i took the coat back to the store.
whereupon i was informed 10 days had passed, (long passed) since i made the purchase.
and after 10 days i was, to put it in the words of the small print on the back of the receipt,
screwed.
that i had only worn the garment 1X since i purchased it didn't make a jot of difference to the clerk who waited on me, or the clerk's pit boss/customer service manager when consulted, or the manager of the coat dept who added her two-pennorth, or the manager of the store who was subsequently called in to confirm their policy.
which, it would appear, i seemed to be unable to grasp.
NO.
NO refund.
only a store credit.
with tax i had approx. $225 of a store credit.
i went to look for another coat.
but
the only coat(s) in stock were the same as the one i had just returned.
hmm?
once bitten etc.
i felt dejected.
i was about to leave.
but i just couldn't do it.
i only wanted what i paid for after all.
a nice coat.
i returned to the clerk and explained my predicament.
'i have $225 to spend in your store. but i want a coat. and you don't have a coat that i can buy.'
"you can spend it on anything you want." she said.
'but i only WANT a coat. i only NEED a coat. i don't need/want $225 worth of your stock. alas."
the 'alas' to illustrate my willingness to compromise, to show her how reasonable i was trying to be.
enter clerk #2, beady eyed, slightly annoyed look of 'oh it's YOU! again."
clerk #2 explained the store's policy; this time in a louder voice, with more than a hint of impatience.
and
nay, downright snooty intolerance.
with a dash of condescension.
i held my ground.
in spite of internal combustion which threatened to erupt.
i did not show my true colours.
(my mother would have been so proud.)
enter clerk's boss/customer service manager, and then dept. manager again.
exchange of knowing looks between the 3 and another reiteration of the store's policy on refunds.
NO refunds.
end of.
'but...'
"NO buts'.
enter the manager.
again.
all businesslike.
once more.
prepared to wrap me up and dispatch me quickly, troublesome woman that i was.
i explained my position.
to wit: the coat i had originally bought was not satisfactory.
not worth the money i had paid for it as anyone could now so obviously see.
it lay across the counter looking like a bedraggled rag.
therefore, they, as in the store, had fallen down on their end of the deal.
my part of the deal was to pay for a coat that would,
a) look good; as in look like it was worth $200. and
b) not fire buttons in all directions into the street and into sewers or at passing pedestrians as i walked downtown and
3) not make me look like a walking lint roller.

a large sigh.
and a hand.
to me.
in front of my face.
as in "STOP!"
i retained my poise, tho it took every shred of my being to do so.
i knew what was coming.
store manager to clerks #1, #2, customer service manager, and dept manager.
with another sigh of resigned disgust.
as she threw, yes threw, the gift card for the store credit of $225 on the counter and walked away.
'give her a refund.'

she might as well have shouted,
'take your money back and get out of our store NOW. and never darken our doors again. you dissatisfied customer you. you person who expects satisfaction or desires to get what you paid for. you damned NUISANCE. get out. and stop bothering us. we have customers to er serve. well not serve actually. but to sell things to. GET OUT!"

why?
does it have to be this way?
why do i have to get angry when i go shopping?
i'm just not going anymore.
it'll be easier all round.

on a lighter note.
:-)
and just in case you've read this far.
(and if so, i thank you for indulging me.)
because
i'm not sure if i could have returned the favour if this was YOUR story.

my new year's resolution, or one of them, among a thousand other much needed self-improvement resolutions, is to lighten up.
i agree.
it's not before time.
lest you think i am always in a bad mood.
because, of course, i'm not really.
not ALL of the time.
so as i said, on a lighter note.
great nanny noo noo bought herself a pair of track pants. or yoga pants, or jogging pants, last week.
whatever you want to call them, they may seem a little at odds with your picture of my 86 year old mother in law.
sweet old lady and all that.
but
she thinks they're comfy and that they're great for wearing when she's doing the housework.
(which she can do faster and more thoroughly than you or i AND most able bodied people of 1/2 her age, to be truthful.)
in walmart, during the hour we had to wander aimlessly around while they cut the head off the enlarged photo of my poor grandchild with the blond hair, she went in search of a 'gentleman' to help her find another pair of the said jogging pants.
honestly, that's what she calls sales clerks.
doesn't matter how spotty or monosyllabic they are.
in her mind, sales clerks are all "gentlemen"!
and female sales clerks, she always addresses thus: "excuse me, Miss."
and when she retells what THEY said to HER, they've always addressed her as "Madam".
in your dreams.
a throw back to a long defunct golden age?
she must be shopping at Harrods.
not bloody wallymart.
anyhoo.
where was i?
"i wonder if they have any?" she mused, as she looked through the racks.
"what are you looking for?" asked a spotty kid with time on his hands.
she thought for a moment, searching for the right word, which i know, often escapes her just when she needs it most.

'jodhpurs?' she blurted.

just as i fell over the rack spluttering and gagging.

i know, if i don't lighten up, i'll certainly never live that long.

thanks for reading.

:-)

Clippy Mat's Christmas Message ( like the Queen's - but not 'quite'.)

2009-12-23T22:42:00.003-05:00

you are far too busy to read blogs.
there's just no time!
shouldn't you be wrapping, cooking, baking, or stuffing a turkey or something?
i am just taking a minute in between all of the fuss and activity to do a quick Christmas post.
i love Christmas music.
and Billy Bragg.

Put the two together and you get this:

this song brings a tear to me eye.
i hope you like this version.
and
i really hope YOU have a peaceful and HAPPY Christmas.
(and a pair of pants with an elastic waist band)

joy to the world.

Pat :-))

can you hear me major tom?

2009-12-20T07:48:00.002-05:00

i have been abducted by aliens.
i am on board a space craft and encased in a tube.
i have a 'probe' of some sort.
it doesn't hurt.
they extract information and data without me feeling a thing.
the aliens checked out blogs as part of their 'study' of earthlings.
i saw them sneering at mine, looking at each other with their hideous one eye and then back at me with disdain.
they slither away for an hour or so every day to sleep or eat or abduct more unsuspecting people.
i'm not sure.
i unhooked my probe.
it took me about 4 hours.
i've managed to figure out their eleaborate labyrinth of computers.
it wasn't easy.
(!)
strange keyboards and all that.
but i was able to log in briefly.
just wanted to let you know i'm still here.
i know people are wondering why i haven't posted for a few weeks.

they say they will let me go soon.
and apparently no one will even know i've ever been gone.
this happens regularly i've learned.
before they erase my memory.
i want YOU to know.

it could happen to you too.
;-)

Peace on earth, and goodwill to all (well, some) men

2009-12-05T14:45:00.006-05:00

i love christmas.
i like the lead up to it, tho' it can get a little stressful.
parking lots seem to the be the thing, at this time of year, for bringing out the worst in people .
a few years ago, after christmas shopping, a little old lady told me to "go and f*** myself" when my backing out of a space required her to also back up.
by ooh, maybe TWO FEET!
she honked.
loudly.
causing me to respond with, 'oh merry christmas to you too.'
which in turn prompted her to yell back at me.
what i said up there.
don't make me repeat it.
it was quite traumatic.
she looked like mother theresa.
she sounded like tony soprano.

some people behave as if THEIR mission is priority.
what could YOU possibly have to do that could be as important?
it's christmas and "i gotta get all MY stuff done."

yesterday, everytime i went down the aisle in the store i would meet the same person coming the other way.
she would be just a little too far over towards the middle.
so for a couple of aisles she'd be browsing the shelf and her cart was abandoned in the middle.
meaning i had to maneuver around her.
which i did.
twice.
in the third aisle i was met by a row of boxes, contents waiting to be unpacked and shelved.
so i had to go around them.
guess who was turning the corner onto the aisle?
i could feel her displeasure.
don't get me wrong i know the rule about giving way to oncoming traffic if you are behind a parked vehicle.
oh aye, i know the rules of the road.
but she wasn't in view when i made my move.
so what's her problem?

i proceeded to the checkout.
you-know-who comes up behind me.
her cart would nudge forwards as i was unloading on to the belt.
once it touched the back of my legs.
!?!

i didn't react.
body language says a lot tho' doesn't it?
so if she could read the back of my shoulders and the set of my neck, she'd know!
back off missus!
wouldn't you know it, the clerk had to change a till roll or change her cash draw or something.
i'm used to it.
whichever checkout lane i get into, it's a certainty that this will happen.
so i am resigned.
no use getting bent out of shape.

our friend behind me made a loud "tutting" noise.
so i turned around, by way of commiserating.
only to see her eyeing my amount of goods on the belt.
she cannot put down the large items she had started to unload in anticipation of the belt moving.
now she's stuck.
and in her world, again, it's my fault.
i even said, 'sorry'.
i don't know why.
?
she ignored me.

i left the store.
as i pushed my cart out i saw someone i know who was coming in and we exchanged the briefest of greetings in the doorway.
which gave our friend time to catch me up.
and time to mow me down because i'm in her way.
again.
at that moment the automatic door didn't open right on cue, as she tried to overtake me and exit first.
i was on the way out too but she couldn't wait.
i stepped aside and let her go.

i'm in the parking lot putting my shopping cart away.
our friend has to wait for me so she can do the same.
i can feel the heat coming off her now.
we don't even need to make eye contact.
i start to hum 'we wish you a merry christmas.' as i pass her and walk to my car.

i'm leaving the parking lot.
there's a bit of gridlock as the cars wait for the light at the exit to change to green.
i have my signal on to turn right and join the line.
guess who's on my left?
she looks right at me.
and moves forward to fill up the gap so i can't get out!

at this point do i open my window and curse at her?
do we exit our vehicles to confront each other and roll around the ground in a frenzy of anger and frustration?
blood and snot flying.
do we each ram our vehicles into the other's?
?
you have to know it did more than merely cross my mind.

for a second our eyes lock.
then, for both of us, a light goes on.
and, at the exact same time, we recognize each other.
we both go to the same church. (!)

BUSTED!

she gives me a weak smile and i sort of shrug my shoulders as we both silently acknowledge our mutual situation.
sort of , 'phew! what a busy day eh?'
'isn't christmas shopping just the pits?'
or somesuch.
you know the kind of thing you would say to a fellow church goer.

and i'm thinking.
'ooh what a bitch."
and she was probably thinking,
'ooh what a cow."

i love christmas.
it's all about peace, harmony and loving your fellow man.

now get out of my way.
;-)

the remains of the day

2009-11-22T23:23:00.005-05:00

the weather in this part of ontario is exceptionally mild and quite warm for the time of year so mr clippy and i have been making the most of it and have been enjoying some nice walks in the woods.

today we took our lovely dog bella with us.

you may notice from the photos that we are walking apart and would seem to be not quite in step with each other.

out of synch even.

there is a reason.

en route to the woods mr clippy was driving and i was as ever, the co-pilot, the extra eyes and ears.

a valued and trusted role and one that should never be taken lightly.

we waited at the intersection, about to turn right.

he was looking to the left for oncoming traffic.

there was a break in the traffic and he began the turn but, unfortunately, he was a tad hasty and hadn't checked to his right again.

therefore he didn't see the cyclist who had come up suddenly trying to beat the DO NOT WALK sign and was going like the wind in front of our car.

inches in front of our car.

i may have screamed.

i was a little shook up.

the cyclist and i made eye contact for one brief moment before he sped away and there was fear and loathing in his eye and no doubt panic and fright in mine.

mr clippy hit the brakes, HARD, and said a few very bad words.

then he said a few more very bad words.

being sunday i thought they were in particularly bad taste.

then

he proceeded to blame the cyclist for almost killing US!

whereupon i of course informed HIM that HE was in fact to blame.

and i was incensed enough to employ the phrase, '100% to blame."

this was not well received.

in fact had i just stabbed him in the back with a large pitchfork, he said, he could not have been more hurt.

that i never took his part and that in my eyes he was always wrong in these situations.

it was always HIS fault.

well.

who's the one in the driving seat?

trying to kill me, throw the dog through the windshield and run down unsuspecting (dumb) cyclists on a lovely sunday afternoon!

not me.

in mr clippy's world the cyclist was and evermore shall be in the wrong because he tried to beat the light!

i could not agree less.

the first rule of driving i patiently (it seems to annoy him when i'm patient) informed my other half is to 'first do no harm'.

the discussion continued and became, sadly, somewhat heated.

we 'debated' the issue quite noisily for the whole of the journey to the woods and for a good way around the path.

until the dog began to look sideways at us and made a little whimpering noise.

i of course could not be swayed.

when you're right, you're right.

right?

after i while i refused to ~~argue~~ discuss the matter any further.

i maintained my ~~self-righteous~~ stance that had i not been in the car and warned him, he'd have hit the cyclist and in a court of law he would lose.

and probably get sent down.

for quite a while.

years even.

locked up.

and the key thrown away.

and i would never visit him.

the family would disown him.

he'd rot.

i may have gone too far.

after a while of walking one behind the other, each deep in our own thoughts, with only the crunch of the leaves to break the silence between us and with nervous glances of the dog from me to him, mr clippy mumbled aloud something about being glad that i couldn't be on a jury if he was ever on trial.

i'll take that as his apology

I'll take mine to go

2009-11-10T08:08:00.002-05:00

still reeling.
it's been 3 days but the shock is lingering.
i thought that the pain would have subsided a little but this morning as i sipped my first cup of coffee,
wham!
it came back like a bolt from the blue.
just when you think that it's over.
there it is again.
it was saturday night.
in niagara falls.
it was the festival of lights, the opening ceremony.
it was a warm and balmy evening, the people were out in droves and everyone was happy.
and no event is complete without a cup of coffee to hang on to.
i'm sure you would agree.
so that's when we went into here.

not somewhere that i would usually fraternize as i like my coffee just - with coffee.
and some cream.
just to take the blackness away that's all.
no maple, mint, mocca, chocolate, frothy foam, latte, frappe or otherwise.
just the coffee please.
i ordered 2 cups.
one for me.
one for oldest son.
he asked for a venti vanilla latte.
i said, 'what size?'
see, what do i know?

i ordered the tall thing on the picture above the counter.
i was confused.
and a little intimidated.
the name escapes me now.
the taste lingers.
warm, insipid, sickly and when you get to the bottom,
yuck!

12 bucks!
yep.
12 bucks!

for two cups of stuff that doesn't even resemble coffee.
i felt like i'd been ravaged.
and not even kissed first.
i get the bucks part.
i don't get the star part.

i don't know when recovery will kick in.
i don't know which is worse.
that they charge that.
or that i just gave them my money and didn't say a word.
?
i forgot to check to see if there was a prize in the cup.
surely that was what all that money was for.
and
we just threw them away.
shafted!

if only i could.....

2009-11-06T16:39:00.002-05:00

i offer my sincere apologies and a warning for the (very) bad language, the violence and the depiction of cannibalism at the end.
but, be honest, haven't you always wondered WHY somebody hasn't done this to gordon before now?
love it.
i fell off my seat laughing.
:-)

a rose by any other name

2009-11-05T07:19:00.002-05:00

when i was a kid i was known asTricia or Treesha.
but
being the awkward, attention seeking child i was, i wanted to be PAT.
never patty.
or patsy.
just,

pat!

how boring is that?

i can't believe i thought it was cool.

it was just that it was 'different'.

i have four brothers and everyone of us had a nickname growing up.
pud, deacon or stiss, buck which became huck, honk and mag.
guess which one was me?
?

HONK!

huh?

i hated that name.

i have no idea why i got it or where it came from.

does this sweet and innocent child look like HONK to you?

my parents didn't correct this horrible, hurtful habit in my brothers.

THEIR own names were mrs. pud and fath.
(our last name was rice so you can see a connection there?)

my 2nd oldest brother was the one responsible for nicknaming everyone in the family.
he randomly decided on the name you were given and was relentless in using it.
soon everyone else joined in.

everyone in the neighbourhood had their own nickname.
kids, adults, shopkeepers, teachers, friends and neighbours alike.
after a while no one knew anyone's real names.
if you said 'there goes Mr. Smith?'
the reaction was, "who?"
then
'oh right, you mean bandy andy.'
the next door neighbour had grown up during the depression and suffered rickets as a child i believe.

hence his nickname.

in our street sensitivity to others' feelings was a weakness.

tub, jake, neg, tardis, basher, bandy, dolphis are some of the ones that still come to mind. you'd have to ask deacon, whose real name was michael, what the relevance of most of those names were.

he assigned them according to some strange connection between the person and an inanimate object or character which was usually apparent only to him.

i remember one day a visitor to the street, a nicknameless outsider, asked, 'why do you all have such weird names?'
nobody knew why.
it just was.

i got so fed up with being called honk that i would scream.
and then, being boys, they just stopped calling me by any name at all.
i was just their sister and girls had little value then.
so to pat.
i wish i'd stayed as treesh, or tricia.
but i refused to answer to that anymore.
they should have called me contrary mary.

my parents, mrs pud and fath, continued to ignore my request for 'pat'.
to my mother i was patreesha.
the i sound was pronounced as an ee.
(that was our geordie accent).

my grandmother wasn't a geordie.
she called me 'pratisha'.

when i worked in the nursery school with the little kids i was known as miss pat.

one little guy trying to blurt out something exciting that had happened to him called me 'piss mat'.

my friend's husband, when he's not referring to me as 'clippy', which as you know is rhyming slang, i.e. clippy mat, pat, still likes to call me piss mat.

don't anybody tell him about Honk.

he'd have a field day

if you have a nickname, i'd love to hear it. :-)

a day for Owen

2009-10-25T08:31:00.001-04:00

you might think this is the pillsbury dough boy.

but it's not.

it's Owen.

Owie as we like to call him.

pronounced 'oh-wee'.

he's 6 months old

he's waited for his aunty jenn to come over from england so she can be his godmother and so today is his christening.

now this is sort of a before picture.

he got the christening outfit a couple of months ago and this was him trying it on for size.

he's a big lad so we werent sure it would still fit him now.

but it does.

he just grew into it a bit more.

and we shall have several very cute pictures of him today wearing it.

we think he's just about got his first tooth.

and he smiles the whole time.

really.

what a little angel.

:-)

the twilight zone

2009-10-24T05:29:00.000-04:00

it's 5.15 a.m. and i've been up for half an hour.
but i've just taken some powerful ( i hope) pain killers so my time on here will be short.
thursday i was in the dentist's chair for 2 hours while he re-did a root canal, that i'm pretty sure he's redone before.
i think he gave me seventeen needles to numb my mouth.
i think they just wore off at 4.30 this a.m.
either that or somebody, or a horse, or a mule, kicked me in the side of the head as i slept.
i woke up in sudden and startling pain.
my face is swollen.
okay, i'm just looking for sympathy and you are probably asleep and can't give me any.
i've been reading your blogs while i wait for the drugs to kick in.
i think they've started.
my toes are a bit numb.
how long will it take for them to get to my head?
before they get there i just wanted to mention that jenny, my lovely daughter, is home from england.
she's my canadian child.
the only one born here.
the other two were born in england.
they both live here.
she lives in england.
it's a funny world isn't it?
she's here for a 2 week visit.
i'm sure it will go by in the blink of an eye.
surely, not that fast?
but it always does.
time goes by really fast when you are geting older.
except.
when you are waiting for pain pills to kick in and do their stuff.
oooh my legs are feeling all floaty.
we're getting there.
and my fingers are missing all of the keys on the keyboard.
might be time to go back to bed.
before my head goes numb.
i was googling images for dentists but i just can't seem to upload them.
then i thought i'd insert a pic of jenny but can't do that either.
strange.
what on earth am i doing up at 5.23 for gawds' sake?
back to bed.
:-)

what i do on my days off

2009-10-21T07:26:00.001-04:00

Life is full. i thought I would share. me and mr clippy have several hobbies which i thought you might want to know about. it's how we stay young, you know?

Try JibJab Sendables®

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

my daughter in law KEE is on mat. leave and where she finds the time to do these jib jabs i don't know. but they crack me up.

Let's go Blue Jays. Dancin' Style

2009-10-17T08:34:00.001-04:00

speaking of grandchildren.
this is our second oldest granchild.
he's 3.
i don't know where he gets his technique from.
i didn't even know he had those moves.
or any moves in particular.
as i said, he's 3!
we went to a baseball game a few weeks ago and as we were leaving we saw this guy who plays drums outside.
little grandson started this impromptu dance which just cracked us up.

every time I watch this video I just feel happy.
what a kid.
i hope he always dances like there's no one watching.

the boy detective solves the case.

2009-10-14T19:55:00.005-04:00

so my oldest grandson who is 4, going on 44, is in training for chief inspectorship of scotland yard in the forseeable future.
his mother gave me some used baby items which i intend giving to a friend of mine for her first grandchild.

little grandson, aka sherlock shortypants, spotted one of the items sticking out of the corner of a bag in my kitchen.
he tugged it out and whirled around to face me.

'NANNY! what is THIS?' he demanded.
he could also make a good career as a store detective because i swear i felt as tho' i'd just been caught red handed shoving stolen goods down my pants.
the item in question is one of these
i tried to explain why i had it.

'this is MINE' he asserted. looking at me witheringly as only a 4 year old can.
unspoken: 'how could you stoop so low as to steal from your own grandson'.
i explained that now that he's a big boy he doesn't use it anymore.
in fact, i told him, it's for babies.
slightly negative emphasis on the word babies to illustrate their insignificance compared to his superior big boy status.

'WHO are you giving it to?' he wanted to know.
i told him.
judy, the lady i work with.
judy is also the name of his other grandmother with whom he had just spent the previous day.
duh. too late.
it was so obvious i was just making THAT up.
two judy's.
as if.

'WHY are you giving it to her?' the interrogation continued.
i explained that she's got a new grandchild and she might have a use for it.
'how old is she's grandchild?' he further demanded.
(we shall forgive the young detective here for confusing his personal pronouns.)
the line of questioning continued as he held the article, which perhaps should now be referred to as exhibit A, aloft, in front of my face.

'what is the baby? a boy or a girl?'
trick question. intended to catch me on the hop.
good job i knew that one.
'boy' i replied confidently.
he raised an eyebrow and gestured the item towards me once more.
'why does judy have a boy for a grandchild?"
this one could've been difficult but i made a stab at an answer.
which didn't appear to satisfy.

'does judy know where to put this in the car?' he continued, picking up the pace of questioning now, perhaps to catch me offguard and force me into breaking down and admitting my duplicity.
i reassured him that if she didn't then i would be able to tell her because i know all about toys having four grandchildren of my own.
he remained sceptical.
'it's NOT a toy.'
he was right.
i squirmed.
'it's a thing.' he corrected.

'you don't look in it like THIS' he scoffed at me as he held it in front of his face and grimaced by way of demonstration.

'you put it in yours car on the SEAT and you look through your mirror at the BABY, not YOUR face.'

i told him i was aware of how it worked.
he looked doubtful.

'i like this.' he told me. 'i had it when i was borned. i miss it.'
"well yes," i went on with my rebuttal "but you no longer need it and somebody else could use it now."
'i wanted to keep it.' he said.
unspoken: what a theiveing underhanded nanny i truly am.
there may have been a bead or two of sweat on my top lip at this point.

his little sister, aged 2, previously engrossed in playdoughing the soles of her shoes, came over to see what was going down.
like a skilled partner in the good cop/bad cop scenario, looking from the culprit to the righteous she summed up the situation at once and jumped right in.
"Mine!' she yelled.
'NO!' sherlock proclaimed firmly, putting a swift end to her participation.

'you shouldn't take it nanny.'
he reprimanded me slowly with an almost sad shake of the head.
caught red handed.
obviously due to family connections he was going easy on me.
he was more disappointed in me than anything else.

'i didn't. your mommy gave it to me.' i tried to justify.
to wriggle out of it.
two eyebrows up.
then, eyes narrowed, he weighed me up.
no words necessary.
unspoken.
how could you possibly lie about such a thing nanny?
as if his own mother would EVER give away so carelessley such a precious posession of his.
the jig was up.
i'd been found out.
i'd obviously sneaked into his house under the cover of darkness and removed it as he slept.

'never mind' i said thinking i'd defuse the situation by distracting him with the offer of a cookie. 'just take it home if you want it.'

a pause.

'no that's okay. you can have it.' sherlock said, knowing he'd won and i was beaten.
it was quickly cast aside as he chomped on a cookie.
' i don't want it any more.'
and he didn't.

'poo-poo head' said his little sister.

she's going to be a politician.
;-)