tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31938178210289260172024-03-13T16:22:35.026-04:00Tales from Clippy Matmitherings, musings, mumbles, memories, mopes and maybe more.Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.comBlogger212125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-89832695364077231612015-03-20T06:57:00.001-04:002015-03-20T06:57:41.643-04:00I found this draft from 2 years ago.<i>I was so much younger when I wrote this (!) and I forgot to post it I assume. I'm turning 61 this year. Madness.</i><br />
<i>I'm obviously obsessed with age and need to get over it. So I will post this and put the subject to bed once and for all. Except I totally agree with what I said below. I'll underline it for you so you know what I'm on about.</i><br />
<br />
Getting older ain't for wimps!<br />
I know there's no alternative to it and it comes to all of us but I just think it's so unfair that we don't all age at more or less the same time.<br />
I know, that's not plausible and clearly I haven't thought that through properly but I'm trying to make a point here.<br />
Just as the realization is dawning that you are getting past your sell by date, comes the knowledge that the world is full of younger and much more beautiful people.<br />
Who said the world belonged to them?<br />
Who?<br />
<br />
If they market any products to people my age then it's for something health, diet, teeth, bladder, arthritis, depression, depends, dysfunction, or dental fixative related.<br />
Young people get funky music, sexy men, with no shirts on to boot, gorgeous models with funky clothes and shiny, shiny hair, perfect teeth and perky tits.<br />
OK I know they're not my demographic any more but still.<br />
I'M NOT DEAD YET!<br />
<br />
Sorry, was I yelling?<br />
<br />
I don't feel any different to those younger people.<br />
It's just on the OUTSIDE that we.... er differ.<br />
Inside, I'm still vibrant.<br />
As long as I don't forget to exercise regularly, eat fish and greens, take my Vitamins every morning, noon and night, have my bones scanned yearly, my breasts squashed regularly and my insides probed with scopes now and again and I'm in bed by 10, not forgetting to pee before I go.<br />
<br />
<u>I'm not THAT old.</u><br />
<u>Okay, I'm 59 this year which probably seems ancient to YOU, but God help me, when I'm 70 I'm going to yearn for this age.</u><br />
<br />
I look in the mirror and thankfully my eyesight has declined with my looks so I'm not that aware. Except last week when I was being tailed by a woman across the aisle in the department store. Every time I looked up she looked back at me. She was middle aged and tired looking, overweight and quite drab! JEEBUS! It was me. I was walking past the same mirror. I wanted to lie down and die right there in the store. Cry in fact. How could this happen? And, more importantly, When?<br />
<br />
Two weeks ago I went to enrol myself and a friend in an aerobics class. I dashed in after work and spoke to the fitness centre supervisor; filled out the forms, gave him my credit card and just before he processed it he looked up at me as if for the first time and said, "Is this a normal membership, or do you want the senior's rate?'"<br />
My heart stopped! <br />
There was a rush of blood to my ears and a bloodcurdling scream threatened to leave my body.<br />
Holding myself in check I pondered whether he was referring to the 55 plus senior. They call it grey power these days. AND though I don't even have any grey hair thank you very much, I was willing to settle for that at this point.<br />
<br />
I tried to keep my voice level and portray a calmness I wasn't feeling. "It depends. What age is senior here then?'<br />
"65 and over" he replied matter of factly.<br />
You know that sound effect in the movies when the same words repeat over and over like a bad echo?<br />
that's what I heard.<br />
<b><i>65! 65! 65! 65!!!!!</i></b>!<br />
(like on Revolution Number 9 by The Beatles. Number 9, Number 9, Number 9.)<br />
I clutched the edge of his desk to prevent me from leaping across it and strangling him.<br />
How dare he?<br />
How could he?<br />
I have NEVER been so insulted!<br />
Then I choked back a tear.<br />
"No." I said quietly as he processed my credit card. "Just the NORMAL membership."<br />
<br />
<br />
See, not only am I old, I'm not even NORMAL anymore.<br />
Nowadays I look at Judy Dench with a new found respect. Helen Mirren, Meryl Streep, Sharon Osbourne, women of my age. I have to look to them to carry the torch.<br />
<br />
My boss turned 60 last year and she has just paid 9 THOUSAND DOLLARS for new teeth. She's had her hair dyed and her moles blasted off her face, she's lost 20 lbs and wears nicer clothes. She's obviously afraid, vewy vewy afwaid.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-11758504777556388182015-02-15T14:52:00.003-05:002015-02-15T14:54:40.703-05:00Just Do It!So where was I?<br />
I am still running and training for the Great North Run in Newcastle, England in September of this year. (Me and about 50,000 other people.) Thankfully it's still far enough away that I am not feeling panicked about it. YET!<br />
<br />
I manage to get out most weeks 3 times a week, in spite of the disgusting amount of snow and below zero temps that we have had. I never pictured myself running in fine weather least of all in the cold, ice and snow, but I've made the commitment and I have to stick to it.<br />
Hang on, I will just take a minute to digest that amazing statement.<br />
That is just SO unlike me.<br />
I'm usually good at starting things but don't always follow them through.<br />
I remember my mother used to roll her eyes whenever I made a big announcement about something I was going to do. She always told me I was a good starter and a bad finisher. Mother, you should`ve used reverse psychology on me.<br />
<br />
So the flights are booked, my other half is coming to cheer me on. I`m running with my sister and her two daughters, my own wonderful daughter Jenn, and my amazing niece whose mum is one of the ladies going through the breast cancer treatment right now. This year the GNR is sponsored by Morrisson`s, the supermarket chain, so my sister Vron says we`ll be sure to get a pie and a packet of crisps at the finish line.<br />
<br />
So I run with a group of fellow nutters in a club I`ve joined and in our group, the 5K group, we go out together and do our run in a series of 10 and 1`s. That means we run for 10 mins and walk for 1 minute. Don`t ask me why we do it that way, it`s just what the club does. But believe me when I say that that 1 minute break in between the 10 minute stretches is the one thing that keeps me going. If they took that away I could never run again! Honestly.<br />
<br />
I`ve done 2 5K runs so far and the second one was a bit better than the first, time wise. There was another one this last Saturday but it was knee deep in snow and I get so tense trying to stop myself from falling that I can`t do it justice. That`s my excuse. So instead I went to a spinning class at the gym and the instructor yelled at us to ride like maniacs over the top of blasting music while the sweat dripped off my nose and onto the floor. It was fantastic!<br />
<br />
So that`s where I am now.<br />
Before you get any inspiring mental images of me loping along like a gazelle, I should disabuse you of that notion by telling you that right now I`m the oldest and the fattest and of course the slowest in our group. But I can only improve, RIGHT!<br />
<br />
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That was me before my first 5K run, The Santa Shuffle, in December last year. Believe me I did NOT look this good at the end of it. The nuclear reactor type glow is caused by the `go-faster-stripe` illumination on my jacket. That`s so they can find my body faster when I fall into a ditch.</div>
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<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-31914337317248716952014-10-22T10:43:00.004-04:002014-10-22T22:22:03.298-04:00Why don't you shout into my ear trumpet?<br />
<br />
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There's nowt wrong with getting older.<br />
Because we know what the alternative is, right?<br />
It's just that when you do start to get older then you realize you are now perceived as being '<i><b>past your sell by date</b></i>' by others.<br />
<br />
Namely: <b>YOUNGER PEOPLE. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
I know. I was young myself once. I can remember it quite well, because it feels like it was only yesterday. <br />
When I was younger I thought that anyone who had 10 or 20 years on me was over the hill and I dismissed them, for the most part, as has-beens<br />
I wish I could go back in time and smack myself one upside the head. But it's part of the natural order I suppose.<br />
<br />
Luckily, I am reassured by there being lots of famous, and not so famous, people in my age group who are still waving the flag for my generation. <b>YAY FOR THE SEXAGENARIANS</b>. Yes, we are defined as such because <b>WE, </b>of course, invented sex.<br />
<br />
My peers are still doing their thing, some better than ever, (Annie Lennox for one) and are aging gracefully, i.e. without the aid of plastic surgery. Believe me, in the industry I'm working in now I see people who are a lot younger than us who have been under the knife, or have been injected with something to fill in lines or plump up wrinkles. They may get rid of a line or two, or lift a sag here and there but the end result is still scary. It doesn't look right! Sorry. Why are we afraid to look our ages?<br />
<br />
But, that's not what I was going to say was I?<br />
I am on about young whippersnappers who think that the world belongs to <b>THEM.</b> That what they have currently at their fingertips, i.e. technology and other such amazing resources is their birth right and that people of my generation don't get it. They behave as if we are still trying to come to terms with the invention of the wheel.<br />
<br />
Case in point:<br />
I'm quite sure that a woman in her twenties with whom I work, speaks more slowly and a tad louder when she's telling me something about her life. Last week, talking about how she's charting her exercise schedule, she asked me if I knew what an APP was?<br />
?<br />
So I replied quite loudly, hand to ear in my crotchety old lady voice; "<b>A NAP? YOU NEED A NAP</b>? <b>I'll give you a nap in a minute when I knock you out missy!"</b><br />
She thinks I'm funny.<br />
I really would like to slap her.<br />
<br />
The thing is you do get a bit more forgetful as you get older. My mother had dementia so I am always on guard of course and I sometimes feel that the kids eye me cautiously when I make a faux pas in the lingo department. They do talk over the top of you too when they're all together. Luckily my other half and I in return, make eye signals to each other over <b><i>their </i></b>heads and realize that we were the same when we were, (oh that lovely word), <b><i>younger </i></b> and no doubt their kids will do the same to them. Ah, the circle of life.<br />
<br />
So where was I?<br />
Who are you?<br />
Has anybody seen my keys?<br />
<br />
Oh right. I was going to tell you that after my last post where I wrote about doing the Great North Run Half Marathon next September, (if-I-can-get-a-place) that I'm sticking to my guns. I've been walking/running for the last month and have joined a Running Club. The first 10 weeks are done as a clinic and the last one will be a 5K run on New Year's Eve. I think I'm the oldest one in the new runners group!<br />
<br />
I may be heading over the hill, but I'm damn well going to run down the other side!<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-42118286925170304692014-09-24T11:55:00.002-04:002014-09-24T11:55:36.762-04:00What was I thinking?I am nothing if I'm not impulsive.<br />
Therefore, it should come as no surprise that I just sometimes open my mouth and say things before I think them through.<br />
Like telling people I want to participate in the Great North Run in 2015.<br />
I was inspired after watching the fabulous opening ceremonies online and by my niece who was running for her charity, Alzheimer's, because that's what took the life of her grandmother, my mother.<br />
<br />
This is a 1/2 marathon, 13 miles to be exact and it takes place in the North East of England every September.<br />
Over 50,000 people participate.<br />
<br />
What was I thinking?<br />
<br />
Now I'll have to put my money where my mouth is and start training. There are a few pros and cons to my entering a competitive race for the first time. A half marathon indeed.<br />
The pros are:<br />
It will be a great boost to my self esteem if I manage to pull it off and as a side benefit I will get fit and hopefully lose weight in the process.<br />
<br />
Awesome!<br />
<br />
The cons are:<br />
I am 60 years of age and will be 61 next year when the event happens. Maybe it's too late to start doing half marathons. Perhaps my knees or back or ankles will give out and I'll be crippled.<br />
I am unfit.<br />
I am overweight.<br />
I haven't, in spite of searching my memory in a vain attempt to find something that would justify my madness, ran for any period of time greater than the time it takes to run from the car to a building when it's pishing down.<br />
I don't do any form of exercise at all.<br />
I am lazy.<br />
I am good at starting things but not always good at seeing them through.<br />
<br />
So if I can stay motivated that will be the challenge.<br />
<br />
I've started a little group on Facebook for my daughter, sister, and three nieces. We are all aiming to compete (participate) next year. There'll be no competition on my part. Participating is the goal. It's so we can post our activities and progress to 'keep the dream alive' as it were.<br />
<br />
So far I've increased my activity by walking daily; with the exception of last week which was very traumatic and I will hopefully post about that this week.<br />
I live at the top of a very steep hill so that should help increase my fitness right?<br />
Ooh that sounds grand doesn't it?<br />
You picture me in a grand mansion at the end of a long, long, driveway on top of a very steep hill?<br />
Not quite.<br />
We live on the Niagara Escarpment which is lovely and from some vantage points on the hill you can see across Lake Ontario to Toronto where the CN Tower marks the horizon. On a clear day it's beautiful.<br />
<br />
I stole this picture from the Great North Run website.<br />
That's the Red Arrows Flying over the Tyne Bridge at the start of the race.<br />
<br />
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What an amazing start. Now if they can just keep jets with multi-coloured jetstreams flying overhead while I run, okay walk, for 13 miles I might stay motivated to finish.<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-23955998206602590702014-03-23T14:15:00.000-04:002014-03-23T18:33:53.569-04:00Hello little blogI do miss my little blog.<br />
I come over here sometimes and have a peek and see how it's doing and check up on some of my favourite blogs; those ones over there on the right.<br />
It's a bit like coming home. I'm not sure why I consistently neglect it but in spite of being full of good intentions it seems to happen.<br />
Not today tho'. It's time I dropped in and brought it back to life a little.<br />
<br />
Recently I've been spending a lot of (okay, WAY too much) time on Facebook where I've been reconnecting with people I knew back in my old home town. Everybody's old home town has a FB page and if you want to go down memory lane it's the best possible place to do it. If they don't have a page for your home town then you need to start one.<br />
<br />
There's something magical about childhood beginnings. Looking at pictures of places and people from over home, from times past evokes long forgotten memories which can often be quite emotional.<br />
<br />
I think the older I get means that in many ways, the past becomes more important. It's sort of like trying to figure out who you are and how you got here. I am hurtling towards a big birthday this year and I can't for the life of me figure out where the years have gone.<br />
<br />
Someone on this FB page messaged me and mentioned quite a few details about myself and my family she recalled from growing up in the same street. The funny thing is that I can not for the life of me remember HER. Nothing. I can go down the street and name every family in every house and this involves knowing the names of the people who lived in the houses to the left and the right of where she tells me she lived, but I cannot place her at all. I can picture the houses, the windows, the gardens, the curtains even. When I get to her house it's almost like it's boarded up in my head. It's weird. I know I will walk or drive down that old street next time I'm visiting and then maybe the memory will be unlocked.<br />
<br />
Then I've been messaging back and forwards with a girl I recognized on the page who lived in the next street to me. She had a large black, lazy old dog which we used to have to walk. I remember in her back garden was a magnificent gooseberry bush and we picked it bare and ate every one of those berries until I was almost sick. The first time I'd ever eaten gooseberries and I can instantly recall their taste now. I remembered her older sister who was part of a band with a very American name. Winetka Sound. It sounded so cool. They did 'gigs' in the North East and had a van with the band's name painted on the side. I told her my memories and she was thrilled. But. She can't remember the gooseberry bush and has only a vague idea of who I am. Not that this has stopped us becoming 'reacquainted'. We've been chatting online and sharing our 'my-life-so-far' stories. It seems it's enough that we share memories of other people and places, stories and events to connect us.<br />
<br />
I've connected with several old friends from school. I went to the same school with all of the same people from infants to seniors, then I left at the age of 13 to go to a convent grammar school after passing my 13 plus. The worst two years of my life. They showed me the door at 15 which was a relief to me, because I'd never fitted in, but was a big shock for my mother, God love her. I shattered all of her dreams right there. Anyway I know all of the people from my first schools and have connected with them so easily again and hope to see some of them when I go home in May for a visit and a birthday celebration. I don't think I could say the same about the convent school. Don't know anyone from those days and probably wouldn't recognize their names or faces. I do remember the nuns though.<br />
<br />
So anyway. I have to go and fold some laundry and make a Sunday dinner for the troops; i.e. the family. But it's been nice to visit and I might come back again soon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-80114915749159977042013-12-31T13:42:00.002-05:002013-12-31T14:08:05.063-05:00Clippy`s Helpful Tips pre 2014.<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">how to buy movie tickets online. find website. google will direct you first to a map on how to get to several movies theatres in your province. not useful, because you need to buy tickets first. select city and
theatre. select movie and time of show. select number of tickets required. click on PROCEED at the bottom of the page. when requested enter user name and log in. create new password when username and
password are rejected. create new username when robot tells you this is NOT
your username! i) go to inbox to retrieve
email requesting confirmation of your application. </span><span style="font-size: large;">respond to email by clicking on link in the body of the message.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> ii). return to inbox to retrieve your computer generated password. not working? did you check the box that
says yes, you did in fact generate the request for movie theatre membership.. go
back and check the box. check ALL boxes to be on the safe side. connect to the movie website (again). begin
the process again and enter the same information using your new username and
password. repeat this twice. passwords
do not match. you have been timed out. go back to email
click on link again, don't forget to ACCEPT the terms and conditions of your
membership. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">do you want to share your movie membership on
Facebook? (no I prefer to keep the exciting details of my fascinatingly hectic private life to myself thank you.) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">select payment method. enter credit
card number, expiry date and 3 digit security number on back of card. complete a security interception by your bank
asking for a password you may or may not
have created the last time you shopped online. create NEW password. confirm you
are in fact, YOU by entering your date of birth, your mother's maiden name and
the name of your first pet and possibly the street you lived on growing up. verify your purchase and proceed to check out.
Not yet? return to movie website and NOW complete purchase. check box to
receive tickets in your email. go to email. open attachment. print tickets.
tickets do not print. try again. tickets still do not print. printer is unresponsive. reboot computer.
wait for computer to restart. now enter your password to log in. ask yourself
why do you even have a password on your computer in the first place. wait for
printer to begin to print. Success, it
is printing! and printing. it is printing 3 copies of an article it REFUSED to
print 3 weeks ago. no tickets are printed.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">3 copies of old article are each 4 pages long. reams of paper are
spewing out of your printer faster than it`s ever printed before. it seems almost angry!! go to email. open attachment and reprint tickets. success. tickets print. 3 times and 3 pages each. hand tickets to daughter who is going
to the movies with her niece and nephew.
rip up 23 pages of unnecessary printing in a frenzy. lie down. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">next time
go to box office. buy tickets from spotty teenager. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Happy New Year Bloggers</span></div>
Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-24154715426388058342013-03-14T14:09:00.001-04:002013-03-14T21:43:20.759-04:00 Close the netty door!<br />
<br />
I just spent five minutes reading the comments on my last post. Thanks for those. I was looking for the Like button after each one.I just can't make my mind up on whether I should reply to your comment if you were so kind as to leave one. Do you come back to check or have you just moved on completely? It's a tough call so when in doubt, do nowt is my motto.<br />
Just know that your words are like gold unto me. I love you. <br />
<br />
Moving right along.<br />
<br />
I was in the grocery store this morning and tho' we are practically a border town, 11kms from Niagara Falls and the bridge to the USA, I try to spend my money in Canada to support, well the Chinese economy basically. You know, so they become stronger to take over the world, making us all work in their paddy fields and forcing us to bear one child per household, not to mention eating our rice with chopsticks! How ridiculous is that? I'll go to a POW camp first Mr Chan.<br />
<br />
And because I'm too bloody lazy to be interrogated by a customs officer for a carton of milk and a brick of cheese, a case of beer and a tank of gas I don't do what most of the people I know do, which is cross border shop. Which makes them think they have the right to say to me, "HOW much did you pay for those? You know you can get that at TOPS, KOHLS, or insert name of US store here ____________ for a buck fifty."<br />
Smug buggers.<br />
<br />
But the point of this is, I was strolling down the aisles in a local Canadian grocery store this morning, which is normally too expensive for my tastes, but I just couldn't be bothered to be bothered and go another 2kms for a bargain at the cheaper grocery store, when I almost keeled over. There on the shelves, stacked high and proud, I saw a pack of 12 double sized toilet rolls for $21.99!!!!<br />
My mouth fell open and I dutifully informed several other shoppers wheeling by, as they squeezed the various packages to determine softness.<br />
"Have you SEEN the price of THESE?"<br />
<br />
Nobody seemed to care. They were rating the bog rolls by 'quality' amount of sheets per roll, thickness, weight, length and God knows what else!<br />
Have we lost our minds?<br />
I saw an ad on TV for bog rolls the other day, there was some kind of philharmonic music playing while happy people looked content and (smug) with their choice of bog roll???? What is happening to us? Where's it all going to end?<br />
<br />
I would like to go on record here and now, for the 5 people that might drop by in the next 2 months before I post again, that I will never, EVER, as long as I HAVE a rear end, pay $21.99 for bog roll to wipe my rear end on! I will cross border shop before I do that!<br />
<br />
Or, if I still can't be bothered to do that, I'll hang squares of newspaper on a nail on the back of the door like me mother used to when I was a child. It will prepare me for the hardships of the forced labour camp to come.<br />
<br />
:-)<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-9051351155575177302013-02-08T19:15:00.004-05:002013-02-08T19:15:57.194-05:00Can you last the night?<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've just finished knocking all the cobwebs down with a broom.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's a bit untidy and echo-ey in here. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">HALLL0000000!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have not read anyone's blog or even looked at my own for a while until today. Just had a little browse to see what you've all been up to.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I looked at the sidebar where I list the people whose blogs I was reading regularly and it's quite sad. Some of the people I loved to read have died! I felt like I knew them personally and I still miss them. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Others have been through hell and high water but still manage to make me smile!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some have just downright neglected their blogs (how could they?) and have not posted for many a long while.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well really!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Time for a fresh start.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've missed you. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I had to put that security thing on my comments thing because I was literally getting like 2000 spam messages every day. Mostly they came in the middle of the night for some reason and my blackberry would 'ding' like 14 times in a row when I forgot to put it on mute, and it would wake me up and then I'd HAVE to read what it said, no matter how inane.. Some of them were quite fascinating and I would spend far too long just trying to decipher what they were actually trying to get me to buy. I had to put a stop to it. Really it's relentless isn't it? Does anybody EVER respond to spam comments selling Viagra, Cyalis, and other shite? I wish I had kept some of them now, to share here, because one or two were real works of art and wonders to behold. I recall this one which went something like this, '<i>Greetings for your beuaty (sic) and your writings of your humerus (sic) story so much for me to admire and chortle (?) about and telling of it back to people and then they say how can we buy the new thing that will make us go all night?</i> <i>What can we say that we laugh about and repeat and repeat? We admire you and care for your work, keep us informed."</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What can it mean?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Damned robots.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I hate those security things that you have to read, which are impossible to see, and then you THINK you've typed it in and it won't accept it and then you have to do it again, and again. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You're never going to comment here again are you?</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-25385793625287654972012-11-21T22:09:00.005-05:002012-11-21T22:09:55.744-05:00Say Ch**se?Do you ever <span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">PANIC</span></span> in case the <b>FBI, CIA, NSA, MI5</b>, or some such <b>LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCY </b>is going to come <b>storming</b> into your house, dressed <b>SWAT STYLE</b> and brandishing high powered weapons; crashing down the front door as they <b>SCREAM and YELL</b> and then proceed to arrest you and haul you off to <b>GITMO</b>?<br />
<br />
<b>I KNOW! ME TOO!</b><br />
<br />
Considering when I wrote my last post I'd Googled a few words which aren't usually part of my everyday jargon; and then yesterday I Googled <span style="font-size: small;">'<b>SEMTEX</b></span>' because I was leaving a comment on someone's blog regarding cheese and wasn't sure how to spell it! <br />
<br />
My comment was about _S________ and its resemblance to cheese. <b><i>(Don't want to keep using that word so I'll let you fill in the _______________________for yourself).</i></b><br />
<b><i>(I'm afraid that the more I use it the more likely I am to tip off the anti______ squad that I'm writing words like that.)</i></b><br />
<br />
<b>We all know there are thousands of people who are employed to sit for endless hours, in front of banks of computers in order to read/scan our emails, blogs and Facebook posts all day long, every day, to make sure we're behaving and not threatening <u>National Security</u> etc. They zone in on buzz words such as ______________ and ____________________. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>You can see why I'm worried. </b><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>(I'm sure my using those two words N__________ and S________ in the same paragraph as the other s_____________ word, has set off at least 17 alarm bells in that office; red lights <span style="color: red;">FLASHING,</span> klaxons BLARING and people jumping to their feet, grabbing assault rifles and flak jackets, as their chairs go SPINNING out behind them.)</b></i><br />
<br />
I was writing about s__________ because <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/04563871975125538755" target="_blank">FLY 's</a> post about Cheese, which was most mouth-watering, reminded me of my dear Ma in Law, who is always referred to as NooNoo.<br />
<br />
Quite a few years ago on one of her many visits from England to Canada, she arrived heavy-laden with luggage. She had brought only a few clothes, but she did have a frozen leg of <b>HAM</b>, a <b>MASSIVE</b> block of cheese that greatly resembled ______________ ,<br />
as per this image: (which I found on Wikipedia)<br />
<img height="161" id="il_fi" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b8/Semtex_H_1.jpg/220px-Semtex_H_1.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="220" /><br />
and that entailed me typing in that word _s__________ again to find said image and then COPY AND PASTE e it to <b>HERE from THERE</b>! <b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Oh God, what have I done?</b><br />
<br />
NooNoo also had several tins of Marrowfat peas, Rington's teabags, Cadbury's chocolate, Curly Wurly's, Blue Ribands, Penguins and Creme Eggs for the kids, Turkish Delights for my other half, her<br />
favourite son, and a bottle of WINDOLENE for me! <img height="200" id="il_fi" src="http://www.wilkinsonplus.com/content/ebiz/wilkinsonplus/invt/0211407/0211407_m.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /><br />
Yes, <b>WINDOLENE!</b><br />
Not <b>WINE!</b><br />
<br />
I think that may have been her subtle way of telling me that I should go on a diet.<br />
<i><b>(I am not sure if Windolene can be used in assembling exp---ing de---es, but man it made my patio windows shine!)</b></i><br />
<br />
It was my other half who remarked on the resemblance between a massive block of s____________ and that block of cheese! <br />
<br />
Don't ask me <b>HOW</b> that sweet little old lady got through <b>customs and security</b> with all of those goodies in her bags. I suppose those were easier times back then - before <b><i>that day</i></b> when <b>EVERYTHING CHANGED</b>.<br />
<br />
You know, <b>THAT</b> day!<br />
I'm definitely not writing <b>THAT </b>down!<br />
<br />
uh-oh is that the door?<br />
<b>QUICK! HIDE THE CHEESE!</b><br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-19274914546986609222012-11-18T16:10:00.002-05:002012-11-18T16:11:41.078-05:00 I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you. <br />
<h3 style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
<img height="149" id="il_fi" src="http://uploads.kidzworld.com/article/27022/a10534i0_Untitled-1.gif" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="185" /></h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">because I have been working for the <span style="color: blue;">government</span>, (and <span style="color: red;">obviously</span> i'm not at liberty to say <b><i>which</i></b> government<span style="font-size: large;">), </span>doing <span style="color: red;">undercover</span> work, i have been unable to write any posts for a VERY long time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">if my cover was successful then you probably won't <span style="font-size: large;">even have been aware of my absence. <span style="font-size: large;">which means my cunning plan worked!</span></span> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">my work is<span style="color: blue;"> top secret</span> and very IMPORTANT and leaves me little time for much else.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">when i'm online i'm<span style="font-size: large;"> mainly</span> <span style="color: purple;"><b>deciphering top secret codes</b></span>, tracking agents, that sort of thing. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">sometimes though, while i'm waiting for agent so and so to make a move or to send a signal, i read <span style="color: #e06666;">YOUR</span> blogs and i see that everything's been getting along quite nicely without me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">there YOU are, posting left right and centre and looking, quite frankly, a little <span style="color: #6aa84f;">smug.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">well,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">if i had <span style="color: #e06666;">NOTHING</span> better or as <span style="color: #990000;">IMPORTANT</span> to do then i might be able to keep up with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">but i do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">so i can't.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">however now that the <span style="color: #45818e;">US election is sorted</span> and i can relax a little, i thought i'd better take a minute or two to log on, as it were, to something that doesn't require me to have<span style="color: #c27ba0;"> <span style="color: purple;">my eyeball scanned</span></span> while my <span style="color: blue;">thumbprint is verified.</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">it's time to get back to <span style="color: red;">normality</span>.</span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">and even, <span style="color: blue;">reality. (!)</span></span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">so.... </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">right then, now what?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">well, er that's it really.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">nothing else actually.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">don't try to decipher this message if you're thinking that it might be some kind of encrypted code because frankly, smarter people than you have tried.</span><br />
<br />
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;">and look where it got <span style="color: red;">THEM! </span></span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"> </span></span><img src="http://static.infowars.com/2012/11/i/general/ssonroof.jpg" width="390" /></h3>
<h3>
over and out Roger!</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.kidzworld.com/article/7261-becoming-a-secret-agent</span> <span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> http://www.infowars.com/source-secret-service-agent-dead-of-apparent-suicide</span>/</h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">this is where I stole the images</span></h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-4935627358221379942012-09-26T15:26:00.000-04:002012-10-06T10:51:07.128-04:00Something to think aboutI've been reading some of the same blogs for several years now and one of them is by a person I've come to think of as a <a href="http://no-drama-for-da-mama.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">friend. Her name is Chris and she lives in Nebraska</a><br />
<br />
During the last year I have been saddened to read her frank, often funny and always heartfelt posts as her life has been turned upside down. A long term relationship with her English girlfriend fell apart and left her devastated and alone. Then fate kicked in and kicked her harder with one death's door illness and life changing event after another.<br />
<br />
I should say Chris and I have never met (yet) though I've not met <u>any </u>of the people whose blogs I visit either, but after a while you just know who the people are that you would like in real life because you relate to what they write, or just plain enjoy their spin on things. <br />
<br />
Chris is living below the bread line. She is a nurse but now is in danger of losing her nursing license as she cannot afford to renew it. That would take away the only future chance she has of digging herself out of this mess, because as you know, the further down into the hole you go, the harder it is to climb out. In fact she's lived on NOTHING for several months, except for the kindness of some of her family. She cannot get government assistance although she's fighting the system - Good Luck with that if Romney gets in, he's already discounted people like her anyway. <br />
<br />
She has always shared her story but wasn't asking for help. She was just desperate and hoping for something good to happen. A few other people I've 'met' through reading each others blogs thought that it would be a good idea, and perhaps her only chance, if she was to sign up with <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/" target="_blank">this amazing website</a> to get her out of this situation and help her move forward. So we persuaded her to do it. You will see the link to it at the top of my page. <br />
<br />
It seems that each of us, unbeknown to the other, had wanted to do something for her. We discovered this when we emailed each other, wondering what could be done. We'd each felt that alone, our meagre contribution would be a drop in the bucket and wouldn't make much difference. But now with this, she is already on her way to her goal of $2000. <br />
<br />
Personally, I think that's an unrealistic goal. Rent and nursing licenses and 'luxuries' such as food and gas will not be covered by that amount and I'd like to see her get more than that. To not just pull her out of the hole, but to help her feel a bit more secure as she moves forward. Believe me, she will get up again. I don't know that I would have been able to under the same circumstances but she's an amazing lady. I'm pretty sure I might have laid down and refused to go on should the same, or even ANY of those things, have happened to me. Sometimes I was afraid to read her latest posts because I feared what else could go wrong and when she stopped posting for a while I knew that it was really just too much for her to even share anymore. <br />
<br />
I hope that you will feel inclined to contribute any small amount at all that you can afford. Even a few dollars from enough people is a life changer. <br />
<br />
I see this as giving a deserving person a hand UP and not a hand OUT.<br />
I hope you will too.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading.<br />
Clippy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-24757378833836485162012-09-23T09:47:00.000-04:002012-10-18T18:57:05.921-04:00Go Away! Leave me alone.<span style="font-size: small;">Just like Greta Garbo, I <i>'vant to be alone.'</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I crave solitude.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In fact this morning as I dusted the living room furniture, punched up the pillows and realigned everything on the book shelf (don't spirit levels come in handy?) I had the urge to just plop down on the couch and put my feet up. Silly moi!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">So, I organized my books into a neat pile on top of the footstool. From large to small, they stacked almost a foot high. These are the books that I've been trying to find time to read this year. I don't want to put them on the bookshelf because that would be like admitting defeat; as long as they're out there in front of the arm chair then I can imagine that I'm going to have the time to sit down and read one of them. And maybe even FINISH it! They are all half begun because soon I'm disturbed by the needs of people and the world, (selfish buggers).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I also re-stacked my unread magazines and lovingly stroked their covers as I lined them up in chronological order. (You do that too, right?) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />When I finished I thought how nice and tranquil the room looked.</span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Neat and tidy and very welcoming.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />If only I had TIME to sit in it.</span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I found myself seriously daydreaming about being locked in there with my unfinished reading material. I have my music in there too. Hundreds of tunes on my iPod. If someone was to slide some food in from time to time through the door, opened only wide enough to allow a tray and a <strike>cup </strike>glass to pass through, I would be in my element.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />I saw a contraption in a store today. It's a tray of sorts which fits across the top of the bath by clamping to either side of it. It comes with a stand which folds out as a book rest and a little groove for your wine glass, plus a space for a candle!! How Ridiculous! Who's got time for THAT? I've tried reading in the bath but I've dropped the book in the water more times than I can remember because I always fall asleep as soon as I get in. I've tried drinking wine in the bath too but I've ended up with a wine stained, soaking wet book. I dread to think what would happen if I added a candle to the mix. Though it might come in handy for drying the pages. </span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />I suppose you are wondering what kind of demands I have on my time which are so important that I don't even have time to sit and read? Me too! Where does the time go? Up to the age of 40 it meandered along, slowly and often pleasantly. My kids grew up at the usual pace, taking the required time to experience childhood milestones, then puberty, followed by those wonderful teenage years, which are all now (thankfully), a bit of a blur. There always seemed to be time to sit and read books, from start to finish and sometimes, if it was a real page turner I'd read it in one day! I'm baffled as to how I ever managed such a thing? Housework got done, I went to work, I cooked and shopped and went out socially a LOT. There was never a rush to do things. There was always tomorrow.</span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Now after 50 and hurtling towards 60 in another few years...................... (God why are you doing this to me? Please make it STOP!) the time is rushing by in a blur. </span> <br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />I wake up on Monday morning and then, BANG, it's Sunday night again. A week just flew by. Did anybody see it?</span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Somebody is bound to comment, "<i>You really must make time for yourself Clippy</i>!" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Well yes, that's true. Tell me where to find that precious time. Even as I sit here blogging it's mocking me from behind and whispering about the hundred other things I've left undone. Do I really have time to even post this? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">If I was to believe those unread magazines, I also must make time to exercise, say prayers, meditate and do yoga, coordinate my wardrobe for the week, declutter my cupboards, drawers and closets, email my family and friends and <strike>waste time</strike> catch up on Facebook. I must try to keep my hair styled and my nails painted, my feet pedicured and for certain keep those dreaded and unsightly wrinkles and sags at bay. God forbid I don't look flawless at all times. I must not forget also to keep abreast (geddit?) of all the bloody things that are required to prevent a post-menopausal woman from dropping to bits. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I must plan nutritious meals which shouldn't involve mad, last minute shopping on the way home from work and queuing up in front of stupid self-service check outs to tussle with a robotic Nazi who demands I put my goods ON the magic eye thing* and then, two seconds later, ORDERS me to remove them. Then as I struggle to bag my goods and begone, its condescending female voice orders me, with a new command every few seconds to; "PLEASE TAKE YOUR CHANGE!" "DON'T FORGET YOUR RECEIPT!" "PLEASE REMOVE YOUR BAGS!" "DON'T FORGET TO TAKE YOUR PURCHASES" (what am I, daft?) "DON'T FORGET TO GO HOME!" "YOU HAVE BOUGHT A COMPLETE LOAD OF RUBBISH AND NONE OF IT IS SUITABLE TO MAKE A DECENT MEAL." " DON'T FORGET TO STOP AND PICK UP SOME WINE. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED IT!" "THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING HERE. HAVE A NICE DAY!' " NOW GET OUT!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">
Very soon, I'm going to lock myself in the living room for a whole weekend and not come out till I've listened to all the music I've downloaded and not had time to enjoy, and I will finish all of those half read books and unopened magazines, and I will snort at the ridiculous ideals they want me to aspire to, in order to be fulfilled and 'fully alive'. I will spill wine on my book covers, lounge over the crushed pillows with my feet up, get grease stains on the pages and drop crumbs between the cushions on the couch!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm not going to shower or get dressed either, or comb my hair, or probably not even look in a mirror the whole time. So don't bother visiting. It ain't going to be pretty.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
. <br />
*technical term for that thing that you slide your purchase in front of, bar code facing in, or is it down? it beeps, you know, that thing!<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-44521145685822361792012-08-27T19:38:00.003-04:002012-08-27T19:41:22.229-04:00I Cook therefore I am. NOT!I watch the odd cooking show and I confess to being addicted to the train wreck that is Gordon Ramsay on whatever show he is on, which appears to be most of them on US TV at the moment. I watch because I live in hope that one day somebody will give him a taste of his own medicine instead of meekly saying <b>"YES CHEF!"</b> in response to his verbal assaults and temper tantrums.<br />
<br />
But the point is, chefs like him (but alas not their students) make it all look so simple.<br />
I'm not that great in the kitchen, but I've had me moments. In 40 years of marriage I've learned a thing or three and two of those things were to get in and get out of the kitchen as fast as possible. Because, let's face it, it's not just the bloody cooking is it? I mean they don't show you the hours of washing pots and pans after it's all done do they? They casually destroy a kitchen in minutes flat, but the fairies must be waiting in the wings for the clean up part, and then you see the finished result which looks mouthwateringly good, not to mention attractively plated and ready to serve. Nobody ever turns the camera on the kitchen sink, walls and floor, fridge and stove aftermath and says, <b>"Now look at THAT bloody mess! It's going to take me FOREVER to clean that sh*t up!"</b><br />
<br />
So I know I'm apt to start imagining things and I really should think twice when the urge takes me to get in the kitchen and 'create' after watching one of these shows. <b><i>"God, that looks SO EASY!" </i></b>I think.<b><i> "And as a matter of fact I think I have most of those very ingredients in my fridge and cupboards. I think I'll just go upstairs to the kitchen right NOW and knock that very dish up for my lovely husband."</i></b><br />
and I'm quite excited at the thought of all that blending and cutting and mixing and stirring. I can visualize the end result and I just KNOW it's going to be wonderful.<b><i><br /></i></b><br />
<br />
and that's when the trouble starts.<br />
I put a Jamie Oliver video on the Ipad and put it on the kitchen counter next to me as I worked. I was going to make a) Jamie's Fish Pie and b) Jamie's meatballs. Two different meals taken care of for the coming week. Look at me I'm flipping marvelous.<br />
<br />
I followed Jamie's steps to a T!<br />
Jamie's fish pie looked fab. My fish pie was absolutely horrendous. How could this be? My other half dutifully ate his way through a plate of the stuff as did I. "Mmmm" he said and smacked his lips as I served it up. By the end we were both silent. I tossed the rest into the compost bin and we've not mentioned it since. Jamie One, Clippy Nil. <br />
<br />
Onwards and upwards.<br />
b) Meatballs. Do this! Said Jamie, Yep! Said I. Do that, he ordered. Yep, I obeyed. Done, done and done.<br />
Serve with pasta. Smelled divine. I channeled my inner Italian Mama for this one. Into the fridge they went to be consumed as meal number two this week. <br />
<br />
It may have taken me most of the rest of the day to clean up the resulting mess and destruction - but it was SURE to be worth it.<br />
<br />
OH GOD how is this possible? My other half has just phoned me from work. I sent him with a container of pasta and meatballs for himself and his partner for their evening meal as they are on the late shift.<br />
Panic stricken he asked, "What did you eat for supper?"<br />
Me: "Pasta and meatballs."<br />
Him: "er How was it?"<br />
Me: "Dreadful! I don't think they were right somehow...."<br />
Him: "Gary thinks I'm trying to poison him. They were still pink in the middle."<br />
Me: "Did you both eat them?"<br />
Him: " I ate most of mine. Gary spat his out."<br />
Me: ":Why did you eat yours then?"<br />
Him: "I knew you'd be upset."<br />
Me: "We're going to die."<br />
<br />
From now on I'm going to watch DIY shows only. We have a lot of tools in our shed and I really think I could knock up a nice piece of furniture. It looks quite easy on TV.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjocm6W0O43bV4XhhLHLu9sxeiVPZc-IbavGUCNWbXoZ55e72j7K76vwDGRk1J_c4v7c_nZo0EMmvoL98ajm8lc_hv8ShgOwlGbyjPIche7SYquXH2CNcSPkLG4LbJsp4gOnrGWqx7A9Ko/s1600/Kitchen_Disaster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjocm6W0O43bV4XhhLHLu9sxeiVPZc-IbavGUCNWbXoZ55e72j7K76vwDGRk1J_c4v7c_nZo0EMmvoL98ajm8lc_hv8ShgOwlGbyjPIche7SYquXH2CNcSPkLG4LbJsp4gOnrGWqx7A9Ko/s320/Kitchen_Disaster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Image from <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%20http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ADayInHerApron" target="_blank">here</a><br />
<br />
<br />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-63326148287293857742012-02-18T21:19:00.003-05:002012-02-18T21:51:08.188-05:00The Bathroom Bluesyou know when you go in a restaurant bathroom which is all tiled and gleaming, with soft lights and piped sweet music and you feel all good about it, then you sit down and see the six inches of crud with bits of DNA in it encrusted around the door frame where it meets the tiled floor?<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you go in a bathroom after someone and they have left a stink which you didn't notice until you got in there. and then you leave and the person who follows you in lets out a groan and everyone looks at YOU while you're washing your hands?<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you go in a bathroom stall and there's a tile with a HIGHLY polished glaze on the floor, so shiny that when you look down you can see the person in the next stall and what they are doing? and you can't look away? until you realize that they are also looking at YOU?<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you go in a public bathroom and there's one cubicle that becomes vacant after a person who emerges looking hot, sweaty and dishevelled? you know that's exactly when YOUR turn comes around.<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you go in a bathroom stall after someone didn't flush properly and they left a skid mark in the bowl and a piece of suspicious toilet paper stuck to the seat?<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you go in the ladies' room and the lady in the next cubicle pees and then farts accidentally?<br />
i always laugh when that happens.<br />
but i HATE that if i'm the one that did it.<br />
<br />
you know when you go to the bathroom in someone's house and they've forgotten to refill the empty toilet roll holder and there doesn't seem to be a cupboard or a place where they would keep another roll?<br />
what are you supposed to do? walk downstairs with your pants around your ankles and say, '<em>er, excuse me, sorry to interrupt the dinner party but do you happen to have another ....? oh thanks!"</em><br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you go to the bathroom and the person washing their hands next to you doesn't really 'wash' their hands, just flips the tap on and off, sticks them under for a nano-second and then shakes the drips off as they exit?<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you are in a stall and the toilet starts to flush the SECOND before you fully stand up and that means that the toilet paper hasn't actually exited with the rest of the flush so you have to sit back down and stand up quickly two or three times in a row to start the flushing process again and you know that the people outside can see your feet under the door and are wondering why you are bobbing up and down as if you're doing <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;">some kind of weird hokey cokey dance ritu</span>al?</span><br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you're in a bathroom stall and there's a wide gap between the door and the door frame because it's that new cubicle design and god forbid there should actually be a door that SEALS all the way around and you know that everyone in the line up is looking thru all the gaps in all of the doors to see who's doing <span style="background-color: white;">what? which is what YOU do when you're in the line up.</span><br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you're in the bathroom stall and you sit down in a hurry and you hadn't noticed that there was something in the bowl until you stand up and inwardly SCREAM, 'WHAT THE HELL IS THAT! I DID NOT PUT THAT IN THERE!" and then you yank on the handle and it just is all limp and won't even respond to your yanking on it so that you have to leave the stall looking at the floor as the next person goes in after you and you try to wash your hands and leave the bathroom before she gets out and scans the people to see which horrible person was in there before her?<br />
I HATE that!<br />
<br />
you know when you're in a restaurant where the bathroom is down stairs, along a dark corridor and practically in another postal code and you have to flip lights on as you go, 'is it this door?' "is it that door?" until finally you see it at the end of another hall and the door <strong><em>sqeee--aaa--eeeks</em></strong> open and then <strong>B-A-N-G-S</strong> behind you as you arrange yourself on the toilet seat and you think you're alone until you see a shadow on the floor between yours and the next cubicle and hear a soft breath and you realize that it's really a mad axe murderer whose waiting to climb over the wall to cleave your head in as you sit there without being able to even pee enough to fill a thimble whereas 2 minutes before you needed to go so bad you could taste it?<br />
i HATE that!<br />
<br />
what about you?Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-79694878056981915842012-01-30T06:53:00.000-05:002012-01-30T06:53:25.760-05:00A p.s. to my last postRegarding lost rings. I came across this story.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-16374283" target="_blank">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-16374283</a><br />
<br />
<br />
this is the part that i love:<br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"The couple believe the ring fell into a sink back in 1995 and was lost in vegetable peelings that were turned into compost or fed to their sheep."</span></em><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
see, it could happen. <br />
<strong>the sheep laid a golden egg!</strong>Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-23138717744593701592012-01-28T13:43:00.003-05:002012-01-30T06:43:25.977-05:00Hey, did your dog lay a golden egg yet?that's the question i'm going to ask my brother and his wife.<br />
you see several months ago we went to england for my niece's wedding. <br />
the reception afterwards was a lovely outdoorsy event and a good time was had by all.<br />
when i was in the taxi on the way home i went to twiddle my wedding band on my little finger, which is my habit, and with a heart stopping shock i realized that it was gone!!<br />
i should explain, my wedding band was worn on the little finger of my right hand for these last few years. over the years i think it shrunk (!) and it didn't fit my finger anymore. <br />
so i started wearing a bigger wedding band and because i couldn't not wear my 'real' one i just transferred it to my right hand.<br />
it was more noticeable to me on my right hand too.<br />
once that ring graduated to my right little finger i noticed it all the time. <br />
i twirled it constantly. <br />
when i needed to think, i turned it around and around.<br />
so imagine my shock when i realized it was GONE!<br />
<br />
truth be told it was getting a bit too big and it had fallen off a couple of times but i'd always caught it.<br />
i thought i was very careful.<br />
when i wasn't twiddling it, my thumb grazed it every few seconds to check it was still there.<br />
i'm still doing that now, six months later.<br />
it's like a phantom leg that's been amputated.<br />
<br />
i was absolutely devastated.<br />
last year we were married 40 years.<br />
that wedding ring cost 10 guineas 40 years ago.<br />
guineas?<br />
a guinea was worth one pound and one shilling in 1971 (way before YOU were born) and before decimalisation.<br />
it didn't matter how much it cost and i've always suspected that i wasn't its first owner either.<br />
inscribed inside the band was the word <em><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><strong>"Lucky".</strong></span></em> <br />
i never knew why that was there or who put it there and it took me a few years to notice it.<br />
when i did, i was baffled that i'd not noticed it before.<br />
i'd always thought it just appeared out of nowhere at some point.<br />
but wasn't that a good omen?<br />
apparently only for 40 years.<br />
and then my luck ran out.<br />
<br />
my brother and his wife had some people go over the field with a metal detector once i'd discovered my loss after the wedding.<br />
i went up when the crew came to take down the marquee and i personally went through the bins and looked in the trailers that housed the toilets. <br />
i went through the rubbish bags and that wasn't pretty.<br />
but<br />
i didn't find it.<br />
<br />
so back to the dogs.<br />
my brother and his wife have two lovely labradors.<br />
they will eat ANYTHING.<br />
but only if they're not supposed to.<br />
my only hope is that one of them will snuffle through the grass one day, find it and eat it.<br />
then they'll lay a golden egg.<br />
<br />
what're the chances do you think?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxny9zgJX_c5iHAa1fM_CynnFYSo2O4OeUrpG1FEdEfO5w5CfW7vOq2GezJTL5QJTR7pyQan-5qRZeOYWRZZ1yG0TGcoOAXVPI5SyXPhODopX304y9xZsizhoLZFAZ4aieajK1stvxFw/s1600/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCxny9zgJX_c5iHAa1fM_CynnFYSo2O4OeUrpG1FEdEfO5w5CfW7vOq2GezJTL5QJTR7pyQan-5qRZeOYWRZZ1yG0TGcoOAXVPI5SyXPhODopX304y9xZsizhoLZFAZ4aieajK1stvxFw/s320/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+270.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> it was a VERY big field and i think we combed every inch<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbQlcvap7aRpBKw52_JbKVJiim8FExWg4N1PhpWZljB3bXXy7dAB-MpngrD1clXetA1Yd8ELNVuIH84T0hgVW9lQo4YEL9-cjY162R7Mrt0P9I5FqiqfNNODzd60v8EEpH4mUXWI7HFE/s1600/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbQlcvap7aRpBKw52_JbKVJiim8FExWg4N1PhpWZljB3bXXy7dAB-MpngrD1clXetA1Yd8ELNVuIH84T0hgVW9lQo4YEL9-cjY162R7Mrt0P9I5FqiqfNNODzd60v8EEpH4mUXWI7HFE/s320/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJUA-WEIf7l0ClgSDRPGxBOJXOupn6nmn4K0XgSuJGOArONghwZGlrx9we9nfvDBanwtE0WgqmgrR-WOyVDv_COq96ARPffr92BVfHJqjzDQ7vo5Ap2Ov-k5JI0_GGWxPnXqakDIX5bg/s1600/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJUA-WEIf7l0ClgSDRPGxBOJXOupn6nmn4K0XgSuJGOArONghwZGlrx9we9nfvDBanwtE0WgqmgrR-WOyVDv_COq96ARPffr92BVfHJqjzDQ7vo5Ap2Ov-k5JI0_GGWxPnXqakDIX5bg/s320/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+257.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> many things got left behind that day<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SVyH4Ovq35aBFssMHED148807D4EuVXC7pfvVAglhsex5liD0szk_ne6l56xn1BYkW_GoTlJRjFrIKOrd8yFuEHg0MovV2FI9KrVohocXuYQnlArG2araMJ7NsSWOe-nYL5Mxy6-ntg/s1600/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SVyH4Ovq35aBFssMHED148807D4EuVXC7pfvVAglhsex5liD0szk_ne6l56xn1BYkW_GoTlJRjFrIKOrd8yFuEHg0MovV2FI9KrVohocXuYQnlArG2araMJ7NsSWOe-nYL5Mxy6-ntg/s320/Trip+to+England+July+August+2011+258.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>i wonder if i dropped it in one of those haybales?<br />
too late now, probably got eaten by the horse in the next field later on that week.<br />
hmm, wonder if HE laid a golden egg?Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-38770793041006784662012-01-23T20:32:00.001-05:002012-01-23T20:38:16.042-05:00QUICK! tidy upcompany's coming over.<br />
would you believe it?<br />
<br />
my nephew's wife in the uk, a lovely lass called Nikki, was recently told on Facebook about my blog by an unsuspecting relative.<br />
unsuspecting in that he doesn't know that i don't tell ANYONE about my blog.<br />
<strong><em>especially NOT </em></strong>people on FB.<br />
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?<br />
that would NOT do.<br />
then what would i do as an outlet?<br />
one has got to have one's secrets hasn't one?<br />
<br />
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.<br />
(it would be immensely readable.)<br />
<br />
he mentioned that "pat", aka yours truly, <em>"knew about blogging because she has a blog which is easy to find if you google 'clippy mat'".</em><br />
<br />
<strong>SCREAM!!!</strong><br />
<br />
"?"<br />
was her response.<br />
<br />
so i've had to come clean.<br />
and now guess what?<br />
she's only going to come and visit tomorrow isn't she?<br />
so let's see, let's do a bit of damage control before she gets here.<br />
right now she'll be in bed as it's almost 1.30 in the UK.<br />
that's in the a.m.<br />
time is of the essence.<br />
make haste to make a good impression and hope that she won't see thru the facade.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
not sure how to give that impression, and i've even thought of deleting them but what the hell.<br />
i liked them at the time.<br />
<br />
hopefully she won't notice that there's been nothing written since then.<br />
perhaps she'll go back thru some old posts and find the odd one to raise a smile.<br />
'tis my only hope.<br />
<br />
wouldn't want her to pop in and find us all neglected and abandoned would we? <br />
<strong><em>"call THIS a blog?"</em></strong> she might well be inclined to say when she gets here.<br />
<br />
can't have that.<br />
<br />
SO shift yourself off that chair there and plump those cushions.<br />
and<br />
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.<br />
Jeebus! are they CUP RING STAINS on that table?<br />
what the hell?<br />
get a damp cloth at once!<br />
<br />
and OPEN the blinds would you and let a bit light in.<br />
what will she think if she comes here and sees that DUST!!?<br />
STOP!!<br />
DO NOT write your name in it.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
but i happen to know she's a very early riser.<br />
so look sharp.<br />
<br />
light a few scented candles and plug in one of them airfreshner thingies.<br />
sit up straight.<br />
and just smile and nod when she comes by.<br />
<br />
hopefully she won't stay too long.Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-47972664449206505572011-11-06T08:56:00.000-05:002011-11-06T08:56:22.894-05:00frank's theory of time, energy, inertia and velocity.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUuoOXNjORRStijMdEKLOv2Lh35PA8JhdXa7AIYyEPNs0p4iFOaHbRcZNGottx2_o_pwJn5tARFhJXhhHQB3gUUxthLCDPm8ZpbzY1F-FCvakxgB9vRfm542PmOOG6WXTR41ue0jASTs/s1600/24bj0cy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUuoOXNjORRStijMdEKLOv2Lh35PA8JhdXa7AIYyEPNs0p4iFOaHbRcZNGottx2_o_pwJn5tARFhJXhhHQB3gUUxthLCDPm8ZpbzY1F-FCvakxgB9vRfm542PmOOG6WXTR41ue0jASTs/s200/24bj0cy.gif" width="195" /></a></div>Hey, clocks went back last night Frank.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">yeah? in my timeless existence clocks are meaningless. it's just tardis man.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">tardis frank?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Time and Relative Dimensions in Space man</span>.<br />
<br />
spaceman? oh right. tho' you do have a natural rhythmn to your existence frank.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">i do?</span><br />
<br />
yes, well when i leave the room at the end of the day i turn the light out and...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">leave me in the dark?</span><br />
<br />
yes. well that means it's night time and it's time to..<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">sleep?</span><br />
<br />
well, rest. yes.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">rest? man you aint very observant, you know what i'm sayin'? when have you ever seen me do the opposite of rest?</span><br />
<br />
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.,<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">dude, i..</span><br />
<br />
DUDE? really frank. do i look like a dude to you?<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">it's a term of endearment man.</span><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">as i was sayin'...</span><br />
<br />
go on frank. i'm all ears. which you're not are you frank?<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">i'm not what?</span><br />
<br />
all ears frank. ha ha ha. i'm just making a joke there.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">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.</span><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">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. <em>i think therefore i am dude</em>. so i can just BE you know? no need for frantically darting around all over the bowl man. it's like unnecessary.</span><br />
<br />
oh i see. like when i meditate.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">no, not like when YOU meditate. because when you 'meditate' you're watching TV and that's just not how it's done man. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">WHOAH! Holy Mothers Salacia and Anphratite!</span><br />
<br />
who frank?<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Goddesses of the sea man. WHAT WAS THAT? an earthquake?</span><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Dud</span><span style="color: blue;">e! let me know when you're going to do that next time, it freaked me out. i felt the earth move man.</span><br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">d'you do that on purpose?</span><br />
<br />
on "<strong><em>porpoise"</em></strong> frank?<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">you're doing "air quotes" now?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">Holy Neptune, that extra hour of sleep didn't do nuthin' for your comedic talents there dude</span>.Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-51716301387201008752011-11-04T22:53:00.001-04:002011-11-04T23:19:46.853-04:00frank takes chargehey frank<br />
<span style="color: blue;">hey. how YOU doin'?</span><br />
ok, you?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">oh, you know.</span><br />
who's posting on the blog today frank? me or you?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">well i guess i can do it, iffen you want.</span><br />
suits me, i'm busy playing scrabble o...<br />
<span style="color: blue;">on facebook?</span><br />
on facebook, yeah. i've got four games going at...<br />
<span style="color: blue;">at once?</span><br />
yeah at once. i'm getting ..<br />
<span style="color: blue;">addicted?</span><br />
yeah, i'm getting addicted. but my scores are..<br />
<span style="color: blue;">dreadful?</span><br />
yeah dreadful. i get my ass kicked ....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">regularly?</span><br />
yeah regularly. frank? er do you mind not....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">finishing your sentences?</span><br />
yeah, finishing my sentences. it can be..<br />
<span style="color: blue;">annoying?</span><br />
yeah annoying frank. what's with ...<br />
<span style="color: blue;">with that?</span><br />
yeah, what's with that?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">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</span> <span style="color: blue;">say it.,</span><br />
you're like ...<br />
<span style="color: blue;">sympatico with you?</span><br />
yeah frank you and me, we're sympatico. but frank, that's weird because i'm not actually .....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">saying anything?</span><br />
yeah, saying anything. i'm only thinking these things and you're on my ....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">on your wavelength?</span><br />
yeah, my wavelength how'd you .....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">how'd i do that?</span><br />
yeah, frank what is this, how'd you do it?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">i dunno, it's a gift. i'm psychic</span>. <span style="color: blue;">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?</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;">oh right the fibonacci</span> ....</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">sequence yeah. remember </span><span style="color: blue;">The Rule is <b>x<sub>n</sub> = x<sub>n-1</sub> + x<sub>n-2</sub></b></span><br />
er yeah, i do frank. my brain still hurts thinking about that. it's really just...<br />
<span style="color: blue;">amazing?</span><br />
yeah frank it's pretty amazing. you're psychic frank?you're a fish. a psychic....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">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.</span><br />
where are you.....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">where am i known for it?</span><br />
yeah. where frank?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">oh in former circles that i swam in</span>.<br />
really?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">yeah i'm psychic and i'm also gifted with telepathy.</span><br />
frank, how's that .....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">possible?</span><br />
yeah how's that happen?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">i'm not sure but it's not only a gift it's a curse, let me tell ya</span>.<br />
<span style="color: blue;">but since i been here it's kinda come in handy cos we can communicate without you lookin' crazy</span>. <br />
frank why would i look....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">why'd you look crazy?</span><br />
yeah. why?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">cos iffen you was talkin' to a fish out loud people would think you wus crazy</span>. <span style="color: blue;">know what i'm sayin'?</span><br />
oh i see. well it's a good job that it's only the two....<br />
<span style="color: blue;">the two of us that know about this?</span><br />
yeah frank. it's just the two of us.<br />
<span style="color: blue;">yeah. it's probly best that way.</span><br />
so.......<br />
so i hear the scrabble tiles rattling. you got the post for today then frank?<br />
<span style="color: blue;">yeah sure no problem. i got it. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;">good frank.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">i jes done it while we wus talkin'</span>.<br />
frank you are a ..<br />
<span style="color: blue;">genius?</span><br />
yeah frank you are a genius.<br />
<span style="color: blue;">yeah it's a curse man.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUuoOXNjORRStijMdEKLOv2Lh35PA8JhdXa7AIYyEPNs0p4iFOaHbRcZNGottx2_o_pwJn5tARFhJXhhHQB3gUUxthLCDPm8ZpbzY1F-FCvakxgB9vRfm542PmOOG6WXTR41ue0jASTs/s1600/24bj0cy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUuoOXNjORRStijMdEKLOv2Lh35PA8JhdXa7AIYyEPNs0p4iFOaHbRcZNGottx2_o_pwJn5tARFhJXhhHQB3gUUxthLCDPm8ZpbzY1F-FCvakxgB9vRfm542PmOOG6WXTR41ue0jASTs/s200/24bj0cy.gif" width="195" /></a></div>Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-49286541512362417762011-11-03T00:15:00.001-04:002011-11-03T00:26:54.166-04:00Frank's Rebuttalhey.<br />
frank here.<br />
the beta fish, siamese fightin' fish? whatever you wanna call me.<br />
i ain't that fussy to be honest man.<br />
how YOU doin?<br />
okay technically the real name's goldy but man, i just can't bring myself to answer to that.<br />
that aint no kinda name for a fish.<br />
unless you're a goldfish.<br />
which i'm not.<br />
yesterday she wrote a post about me.<br />
i suppose she thought i'd be grateful.<br />
seriously?<br />
life's been hard enough without this unwanted publicity.<br />
it's going to be like living in a goldfish bowl.<br />
what?<br />
oh.<br />
right.<br />
<br />
thought i'd give you the gen on living up here on the kitchen table from MY perspective.<br />
seems fair?<br />
first off, i ain't bored.<br />
just so's you know,<br />
i live a full, varied and extremely interesting life i'll have you know.<br />
and i don't need no company thank you very glad.<br />
<br />
truth is, before i came here i lived on a shelf in Petsmart for a while.<br />
i lived with a couple of other guys in a 12 by 8 and things got kinda heated after a while, <br />
it's just the nature of the beast man.<br />
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,<br />
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.<br />
we had to watch him heave and pant and thrash around on the shelf for a coupla minutes.<br />
that wasn't pretty.<br />
then this other guy who lived in there with us.<br />
i never really knew him that well i gotta be honest with you.<br />
he was like the 'friend' of the crazy guy.<br />
(that's what they called themselves anyway, <em>'friends'</em>) <br />
whatever.<br />
live and let live i say, not my business.<br />
<br />
so, he was like the <em>friend</em> 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.<br />
he's got like his fins up and his eyes are just staring like all popped out man, and he's all like <strong>'da-da da- da DA-DA-DA'</strong>, you know like the music from that movie, 'sharks'? <br />
yeah, he was even singing that as he came at me.<br />
<br />
well i waited till he got in real close,<br />
i was like, bring it brother, you wanna piece o' me?<br />
but i didn't say anything i just leaned back and looked right at him,<br />
not backing down or moving or nothin',<br />
and just when he thought he was going to butt me or whatever he thought he was <em>going</em> to do, <br />
that's when i used the element of surprise.<br />
<br />
i'm fast man, he underestimated my speed.<br />
that's a big mistake.<br />
stupid mistake in fact.<br />
i just, BAM! right up in HIS face<br />
and i bit him.<br />
bit his head nearly right off.<br />
hey, it was self defense right.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
it was like, <em>respect </em>man, you know?<br />
you gotta respect a dude that just goes all out like that,<br />
even when it doesn't work in his favour,<br />
but hey the guy went for it man.<br />
so,<br />
it was just me for a coupla hours.<br />
then they came and put this female in with me.<br />
she was all like glamorous and all and i admit at first i was like, 'whoa'.<br />
but i guess she'd kinda heard about my rep and stuff, it got around in there,<br />
and she wouldn't have nothin' to do with me.<br />
whatever right?<br />
<br />
think she was like a friend or relative of one of them other 2 guys, not sure.<br />
hey, she wasn't even my type anyway. <br />
i wasn't even that bothered to be truthful with ya.<br />
<br />
so it was kinda cool in there.<br />
atmosphere wise.<br />
guess she thought i'd make a play for her at some point, but man, i'm just not into the <strong><em>drama</em></strong> you know?<br />
all that aggression and violence, it'd just left me <em>cold</em>, you know?<br />
so,<br />
we hung out in separate shells.<br />
well actually she was in a diving bell and i sort of stayed behind a giant snail.<br />
not a real snail but good camouflage anyway.<br />
we never really did hit it off tho' who knows, if things had've been different?<br />
and then she got her eye on another dude and well she used to just stare at him in his tank all day.<br />
<br />
but it got to me, you know?<br />
i'm only human.<br />
what?<br />
oh.<br />
okay i'm not <em>human</em> but i'm only ....<br />
actually, what am i?<br />
i don't even know.<br />
but the thing is, i ain't unhappy.<br />
i'm content now.<br />
i got what i want right here.<br />
i got my own place.<br />
a nice bowl man, right here on the kitchen table.<br />
ain't nobody gettin' up in my face or making moves, you know what' i'm sayin?<br />
two squares a day and all found.<br />
and no hassles man.<br />
i got my own bamboo stalk in here, gives off aeration or oxygen or something cool like that,<br />
scientific like and everything.<br />
and i got my own blue stones in the bottom of the pad.<br />
i got a turtle thing that's kinda relaxing to look at. <br />
he aint real but then he don't eat any meat either, you know what i'm sayin'?<br />
i got this huge (fake) fish with a big mouth.<br />
i don't actually do anything with him.<br />
i don't hide out inside him or anything like that, but that's what he's for.<br />
i know that.<br />
i'm just not into that sorta thing.<br />
hiding out's not really my thing.<br />
i'm out there, you know?<br />
i'm a loner really.<br />
it's just the way i am man.<br />
i been around the block, know what i'm sayin'?<br />
i feel like it's just best now if i'm on my own.<br />
so,<br />
okay, <br />
just pay me no never mind y'know what i'm sayin'?<br />
don't pity me okay.<br />
i'm doing good.<br />
it's all good.<br />
<br />
you have yourself a nice day now, y' hear?<br />
<br />
<img height="194" id="il_fi" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT-NQyG-YfABfqpNLN0KZV8UfRTqqzfzEkXdrxCx1OEJQ6CugcD1vWyb34e" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="259" />Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-35375642626488917002011-11-02T07:59:00.000-04:002011-11-02T07:59:24.608-04:00a fish without a 'porpoise'i would get therapy if i had more time.<br />
but i don't.<br />
<br />
so to soothe the savage breast i'd heard that a fish tank can be very therapeutic.<br />
<br />
so i bought a fish.<br />
he's blue and he's a betta.<br />
a betta fish than yours. <br />
har har.<br />
he lives in a bowl because a tank seemed too extravagant for one little fella.<br />
he's called "goldy".<br />
my suggestion was to call him frank.<br />
as i thought that frank the fish had a nice ring to it.<br />
and he's anything but gold.<br />
but i was overruled by a 5yr old with very firm ideas on fish names.<br />
so goldy it is.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GRnpgGVqt3_kA-dbRk3ahGXBMTlflutzwNNqA_FYZVFggQD2am6ReRfQLKbgti2cf2CwxkLQ3QJxsCQGH2SiCVTthNo5kcBfQ__YvqmMCx4AhBI5RfCM9gHqGC8xjCP1ypx9w9AvQOY/s1600/October+2011+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1GRnpgGVqt3_kA-dbRk3ahGXBMTlflutzwNNqA_FYZVFggQD2am6ReRfQLKbgti2cf2CwxkLQ3QJxsCQGH2SiCVTthNo5kcBfQ__YvqmMCx4AhBI5RfCM9gHqGC8xjCP1ypx9w9AvQOY/s320/October+2011+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
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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.<br />
we can keep each other company.<br />
i didn't want him to feel alone.<br />
he swims to the side and peers through the glass at me when i approach.<br />
he looks almost hopeful.<br />
briefly.<br />
<br />
but<br />
goldy makes me sad. <br />
he has such a solitary and monotonous routine. <br />
there's nowhere to go and never a change of scene.<br />
and already i can't stand to look at him too much because he just has such a depressing existence.<br />
when he looks at me with a knowing blink.<br />
as if to say, <br />
this is it? <br />
is THIS all there is?<br />
<br />
i cleaned his bowl earlier because, between you and me, it gets pretty stinky.<br />
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.<br />
he's never once gone in it.<br />
i've never even seen him look in it.<br />
unless,<br />
maybe he goes in there when i'm not here.<br />
maybe when i'm at work he goes in there.<br />
hangs out in the back and just chills perhaps.<br />
and feels safe and secure.<br />
and even<br />
content.<br />
but <br />
i don't really believe that.<br />
<br />
i washed his little green turtle too, and put that back and then returned his lone, long bamboo stalk to its rightful place.<br />
and then i put frank, i mean goldy, back in his home.<br />
he did a completely frantic, panicked sort of loop de loop around the bowl.<br />
from top to bottom in as frenzied a swim as i'd ever seen.<br />
it was quite impressive.<br />
i thought he was excited to be home.<br />
'cos he'd been waiting patiently in a little container with air holes in the lid.<br />
the one he came home from the pet store in.<br />
<br />
i dropped in his 2nd feed of the day.<br />
a pinch of rank smelling pellets.<br />
and he ate one or two and then let the rest float slo-o-o-wly to the bottom of the bowl.<br />
<br />
then i sat down across the table from him to read the paper.<br />
i could've went in the living room and sat comfortably but<br />
well <br />
i didn't want to leave him on his own till i was certain he'd settled in again.<br />
<br />
and when i looked up again, frank, i mean goldy, was just,<br />
well he was just in a holding pattern.<br />
not swimming, not moving even,<br />
but just looking right at me.<br />
his little face about as close to the glass as it could possibly get.<br />
when i moved my hand towards the bowl<br />
he moved his tail in response.<br />
it's just the saddest thing.<br />
poor frank, i mean goldy.<br />
<br />
what a life.Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-28163458579603400802011-11-01T01:00:00.004-04:002011-11-01T01:00:06.812-04:00It's the most wonderful time of the year...... isn't it?NOVEMBER!<br />
yaaaaayyy for <span style="color: blue;">November.</span><br />
why?<br />
because it's nablowotsit, that's why.<br />
and we all know what that means don't we?<br />
?<br />
it means that everybody has to blog every day.<br />
<span style="color: red;">EVERY</span>body!<br />
<span style="color: red;">EVERY </span>day during the month of november.<br />
<br />
why?<br />
<br />
i don't know why, do i?<br />
somebody invented it and you <strong>HAVE</strong> to do it.<br />
it's compulsory or something.<br />
<br />
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 <strong>mark </strong>and who blogs over <a href="http://viewsfromthebikeshed.blogspot.com/">here,</a> asked me if i was going to blog in november?<br />
<br />
so how'd he know that i was even thinking about it?<br />
<br />
is he a long distance mind reader?<br />
or<br />
?<br />
maybe....<br />
sometimes i mistrust this little web cam that's on top of my computer here. <br />
when i'm not using it i turn it to face the wall behind it.<br />
just in case.<br />
well everybody does that right?<br />
right?<br />
but every now and again i come into the room and the little green light's shining.<br />
and it's pointing right at me.<br />
!<br />
weeeeeiiiirrrrrd.<br />
or what?<br />
and how do i know that when i'm sat here <strike>picking my nose</strike> posting on Facebook, or reading emails,<br />
that someone's not watching me.<br />
like Big Brother<br />
or even<br />
his little brother?<br />
who knows?<br />
<br />
but anyway welcome to november and my daily blog.<br />
theres going to be giveaways, prizes, fun, laughs, anecdotes, jokes and a few tears.<br />
well perhaps not quite.<br />
well okay, not even close.<br />
but i will try to write something.<br />
every day.<br />
ok well probably every OTHER day, <br />
or,<br />
most likely twice a week<br />
<br />
well i shall do my best.<br />
just dont pressure me.<br />
________________________________________________________________________<br />
p.s. why in the last few sentences have my apostrophes turned to this è and why have my question marks turned to thisÉ <br />
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.<br />
so can you just add your own as you read along please and thank you <br />
if you could just punctuate my contractions with your own apostrophes i would really appreciate it.<br />
ièd have put them in myself but you can see how thatèd confuse you even more canèt youÉClippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-80654502295737678972011-09-24T00:33:00.002-04:002011-09-24T09:00:45.137-04:00I love to go a wandering.....<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">we went to england this summer.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">during our visit we went to the <a href="http://www.lakedistrict.gov.uk/"><strong>lake district</strong></a><strong> </strong>for a few days for some R and R.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">and we all know what r and r stands for.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">don't we?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">rest and relaxation?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">you might have thought so.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">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?</div>i did not answer in the affirmative.<br />
because <br />
a) putting in good outdoor shoes would mean taking out some frivolous heels or sandals<br />
and<br />
2) i don't have any good outdoor shoes<br />
and, he wondered, what was i packing to wear in the event of rain?<br />
because it ALWAYS rains in the lake district.<br />
again, i ignored him because, basically, i wasn't planning on getting wet.<br />
<br />
so orf we went on our jollies.<br />
and had a rare old time.<br />
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 <strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portinscale">portinscale</a> </strong><br />
<br />
as i said i hadn't planned on being outdoorsy.<br />
it's not really me.<br />
i pictured myself in front of roaring fires at night, full english brekkies in the a.m.'s, <br />
pub lunches at lunch times and fortifying ales and meals in good hotels at night.<br />
i was taking books to read and magazines for the in between times.<br />
aahhh bliss.<br />
<br />
but have you met my husband?<br />
have you met my sister and her other half?<br />
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.<br />
that's a lake to me and you.<br />
i looked out the window and it was damp and drizzly.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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!<br />
so i was kitted out.<br />
and had no choice in the matter.<br />
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.<br />
well guess what?<br />
not today people. <br />
not today.<br />
anyway. i fell in and kept step as we walked.<br />
and walked.<br />
and walked some more.<br />
up hill, down dale, over meadow, across glades, through trees, past cows, more cows and lots of sheep!<br />
and guess what?<br />
we walked for miles.<br />
and miles.<br />
of course it was bloody marvelous and i loved it.<br />
and i want to do it again.<br />
but guess what?<br />
i left my brand new jacket in the luggage bin above my seat on the plane.<br />
but i did manage to bring my good, strong, sturdy shoes back with me.<br />
i loved being with my sis and my bro.<br />
and my sis in law and my bro in law<br />
and not forgetting my other half.<br />
who really is, my other half.<br />
i loved every bit of it.<br />
and now that i'm back here in canada.<br />
i wish that i could do it all again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCL1h5G13f5DQnaqBVaj1yHX6BZkjk2bjbEmnDzFdREzS0DVxuMhQH63kM0zTQSpl-rC85dfZbkgRy0HfyM5fvW8sy3b0IEAzXA2OdYNDO6G6w6PRfFtcNJoUBq1i8PuhbYyvGIuRL5Vs/s1600/before+at+the+lakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCL1h5G13f5DQnaqBVaj1yHX6BZkjk2bjbEmnDzFdREzS0DVxuMhQH63kM0zTQSpl-rC85dfZbkgRy0HfyM5fvW8sy3b0IEAzXA2OdYNDO6G6w6PRfFtcNJoUBq1i8PuhbYyvGIuRL5Vs/s200/before+at+the+lakes.jpg" width="146" /></a></div>this was BEFORE the 20K hike<br />
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</div><div align="left">The "team" midway during the hike</div><div align="left"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEh2W0kIiUm6RoyjVTfj0515fPbLE0fv7y7ZBRIRQPHaXnOZdJT_Pa7VOl5rrgIk5Ml3WjMIRiyxFwNw-EwOpnIg5ansguOR3nHlIYOrgRs_cpknKwK4dHmyQUzvuIcpdGUdZjsffQRA/s1600/262480_10150264602532182_516767181_7865783_3104505_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEh2W0kIiUm6RoyjVTfj0515fPbLE0fv7y7ZBRIRQPHaXnOZdJT_Pa7VOl5rrgIk5Ml3WjMIRiyxFwNw-EwOpnIg5ansguOR3nHlIYOrgRs_cpknKwK4dHmyQUzvuIcpdGUdZjsffQRA/s200/262480_10150264602532182_516767181_7865783_3104505_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXqRxoYYLAe0yRtnQBTWdnBTxDJL47SDQdnGII14z-ruudXtlcUceD93Qg4_CT4ZB7We2HRA18s298xnV0W0ssOV1PoQl58FZQspQz0Sj_UKfqOmHnuoHb3eFqvkSVuD7WiLy6mBvupyU/s1600/223047_10150264603687182_516767181_7865796_5576624_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXqRxoYYLAe0yRtnQBTWdnBTxDJL47SDQdnGII14z-ruudXtlcUceD93Qg4_CT4ZB7We2HRA18s298xnV0W0ssOV1PoQl58FZQspQz0Sj_UKfqOmHnuoHb3eFqvkSVuD7WiLy6mBvupyU/s200/223047_10150264603687182_516767181_7865796_5576624_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div align="left">me and me little sista contemplate the scenery and the meaning of life</div><div align="left"><br />
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</div><div align="left">this was at the start of the hike<br />
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this was what we went to see!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkiCfu8Mr0ZmUt8IosH1jRCkfPTqTc7qx07P78AwnwLtJaYi1BXnKIAHpqnWOU0ftau_SsguTAxjnKdUOvqnfWDuOo78ewgcVTc5hgnSdQhmAcq58E1ADixeTEZVxDLqos21SNpY-d7k/s1600/cat+bells.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkiCfu8Mr0ZmUt8IosH1jRCkfPTqTc7qx07P78AwnwLtJaYi1BXnKIAHpqnWOU0ftau_SsguTAxjnKdUOvqnfWDuOo78ewgcVTc5hgnSdQhmAcq58E1ADixeTEZVxDLqos21SNpY-d7k/s1600/cat+bells.bmp" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">and this is what i looked like when we got back.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm-d9bpsd8xpaNyhBytNLqGAY5GF997pw2pKsXceYXS5rjX3HRFrCDlTGh3jbA72zCLQEpWX90o0Y-0GNiCZnK96Hif4zOAXofAT6spIHVCUhPS4L2ehgspO09NnS0deMf-FrbQ2o9Bfg/s1600/216610_10150264609867182_516767181_7865864_7718477_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm-d9bpsd8xpaNyhBytNLqGAY5GF997pw2pKsXceYXS5rjX3HRFrCDlTGh3jbA72zCLQEpWX90o0Y-0GNiCZnK96Hif4zOAXofAT6spIHVCUhPS4L2ehgspO09NnS0deMf-FrbQ2o9Bfg/s200/216610_10150264609867182_516767181_7865864_7718477_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-48339485902960387932011-09-05T17:58:00.000-04:002011-09-05T17:58:42.838-04:00Sail on....<div style="text-align: center;">life has been so <strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">exciting</span></strong> and <span style="color: blue;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">hectic</span> </strong></span>here for the last <strike>5 or 6</strike> well OK, <strong>nearly 9 months</strong>, that i haven't had a minute to post anything.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">!</span><br />
i will pause, giving you time to digest that information.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">OK i just needed an opener.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>i've had a very busy summer (by way of changing topics).<br />
but tomorrow i shall go back to work.<br />
because i must.<br />
well all good things etc etc.<br />
<br />
moving right along - <br />
yesterday i went on a nice day out with a bunch of old friends.<br />
one of these friends arranged tickets to go on a boat cruise around Toronto.<br />
a tall ship in fact.<br />
what fun!<br />
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!!<br />
sorted.<br />
so we go to meet the bus at the appointed hour and my other half and i are the last two to arrive.<br />
keep 'em waiting, i say.<br />
and <br />
there's only one seat left! <br />
(bad planning on someone's part but we won't go there.)<br />
and<br />
the bus was full, and i mean FULL, of senior citizens.<br />
and i do mean senior.<br />
and <br />
i know i'm no spring chicken meself but still.<br />
and<br />
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.<br />
god forbid!<br />
what is it about seniors and the sands of time?<br />
oh they're running out?<br />
well that would explain it because they're bloody fiends i'm telling you when they want to go somewhere.<br />
and don't get in their way when it's time to get off the bus either.<br />
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 <em>'coming thru, coming thru</em>.'<br />
<br />
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.<br />
(no, i'm not lying.)<br />
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.<br />
so did i mention it was a trip of SCOTTISH seniors?<br />
och don't get yer kilt in an uproar ah ken that not all scots are canny! but i'm just illustrating ma point.<br />
jings!<br />
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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!<br />
and i don't mean haggis.<br />
and all about how since she'd had <em>accidents </em>in public when she wasn't prepared (!) she'd quickly learned the benefits of always keeping spare drawers in her bag.<br />
och it was riveting.<br />
i managed to sleep all the way back.<br />
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the boat cruise was fun.<br />
because the 8 in our group fell about laughing at each other.<br />
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.<br />
och we are so smug.<br />
and just slightly afraid that we're all going to be <em>'just like that'</em> one of these days.<br />
old that is.<br />
not wearing kilts and tams.<br />
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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.<br />
they (all the men on board that is) were bare chested.<br />
i'm not sure i get that.<br />
but not to worry.<br />
some of them were wearing little white sailor hats.<br />
as you do.<br />
their captain blew the horn as they came into view and our crew reciprocated with a friendly blast back.<br />
and all the passengers were hooting and hollering and blowing kisses to us whilst they danced to very loud music.<br />
so we were thrilled.<br />
and hooted and hollered and blew kisses right back at them.<br />
<br />
and we kept on waving as they sailed gaily by.<br />
bye, bye.<br />
<br />
then we turned around to see the shocked and scandalized faces of our fellow passengers.<br />
some very dour scots people.<br />
<br />
if only, i'd had me camera!<br />
<br />
ach well.<br />
<br />
aw goan yasell missus, gie's peace.<br />
<br />
did you miss me?<br />
;-)Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3193817821028926017.post-18083859422523932872011-01-06T20:04:00.001-05:002011-01-06T20:11:10.137-05:00My family coat of arms ties at the back.Today I went into an overdrive of procrastinating, skiving, time wasting and lolly gagging.<br />
<em>I don't really know what lolly gagging is to be honest but I feel it probably fits the bill.</em><br />
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.<br />
A very productive day was planned.<br />
Then: <br />
All of my good intentions went right out the window.<br />
A few years ago I got right into doing my family tree.<br />
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.<br />
I had a few clues and started digging.<br />
Which led me to find lots of people who were <em>very</em> <em>distantly</em> related to me.<br />
All kinds of weird and wonderful people are only an email away when you are doing your family tree.<br />
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.<br />
This is directly because one of our Southern family members was disgraced and forced to up sticks and come North.<br />
The aforementioned skeleton in the ancestral closet.<br />
<br />
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) <strong><em>any</em></strong> of these people I was now regularly corresponding with.<br />
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.<br />
It's funny how your Great Grandmother's sister's granddaughter can feel like a close relative all of a sudden.<br />
I told my brothers and sister about what I had been up to and about these new 'family' members I had found.<br />
To say they didn't share my enthusiasm might be a bit of an understatement.<br />
Never mind, I was undaunted.<br />
I knew they'd be just as fascinated as I was given the chance.<br />
So I gave them another chance.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
Would she mind putting a few people up? - <br />
- and did she mind that she'd never met them or even heard of their existence before now?<br />
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?<br />
(we were going to need a tent of some sort for the back garden, extra seats, food, drink, barbecues and such like.)<br />
It was only fair to give her warning.<br />
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?<br />
Could she help me to entertain and show these new 'relatives' around Newcastle while they were up visiting?<br />
You know at first it all didn't go over too well.<br />
I'm not quite sure why.<br />
But she came through like the trooper that she is (I know she's reading this) and we pulled it off between us.<br />
Soon enough though we realized that there are often good reasons why families are extended and live so far apart.<br />
And why it's often best not to 'interfere' in these things.<br />
It's not always good to alter the balance as such.<br />
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.<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
Until.<br />
Yesterday.<br />
When.<br />
Another distant relative in the South of England made contact!<br />
WHOO HOOO!<br />
Somebody I'd never met or even heard of before now!!!<br />
We were off to the races.<br />
Out came the abandoned volume of research, the online Genealogy websites were reopened and we have emailed back and forward sharing information all day.<br />
I have scanned and attached documents and certificates of census, birth, marriage and death. <br />
In effect I have shared my most intimate knowledge of my heritage and genes with a complete stranger.<br />
And naturally, we are now friends on Facebook.<br />
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.<br />
Because I value my life!<br />
<br />
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:<br />
<br />
<strong><em>"Jump into your genes...and dig up your roots."</em></strong><br />
and this one:<br />
<strong><em>"That's the problem with the gene pool: No lifeguards."</em></strong><br />
<br />
:-)Clippy Mathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15922234265229327474noreply@blogger.com20