Friday, August 30, 2013

Camping de-luxe

Camping de-luxe............. more in-tent tales of the unexpected!


Packed and ready for an adventure me, My Man and Jack the Dog were looking forward to our first camping holiday. Never mind that My Man hadn't organised the borrowing of a decent tent as he said he would, so he had to rush to his step-dad's and borrow his one and a half man fishing tent instead.  Nothing was going to spoil our fun. We were off to join No1 Daughter and her bloke of the time and their two friends and toddler in the New Forest. We'd already planned what we would do as soon as we arrived so while My Man blew up the mattress I was began to prepare that traditional camping grub of egg, bacon and beans. We were so looking forward to our grub, it being a treat because I don't do fry ups at home (actually, don’t do anything) the smell as I’m cooking always makes me want to throw up.

Anyway, up went the tent, in went the mattress. Only just though, the tent being somewhat on the small size you will remember and the mattress on the large. Whew, lucky. Now it needed blowing up. So as My Man began The Big Puff, I had the bacon sizzling and......oops-a-daisy, someone had forgotten the eggs. ' Oh ha ha ha. Aren't we silly billies?' Beans and bacon it is, then.

The mattress was proving to be difficult. My Man blew and blew and yes, he huffed and puffed. He blew with his mouth. He blew with the foot pump, he blew with an electric pump. I saw him look at me, I knew he what he was thinking. A windy fart, that’s what. All the others had arrived, eaten and settled down for an evening’s socialising but Mark was still blowing. Three hours after his first puff and swearing like a trooper, exhausted but still smiling bless ‘im, he threw himself on to the mattress in exasperation when out of one corner he heard a hiss. A big hiissssss. Oh yes, a hole!

Hey, not a problem as everyone rallied round donating foam mats, rugs, blankets and whatever else could be found to make us comfortable. Ha ha ha. How we all laughed.

And time for bed. I opened the car boot for my pj’s (can’t go au natural in a tent!). No night clothes. No day clothes. No clothes at all. NO BLOODY CASE!
 
'My Man, come here, deeeaaarrr'.
'What's up?'
‘Where’s the case’, I whispered feeling very, very, silly.
'What case?'
'The case with the clothes in?'

The case with the clothes was sat on the bedroom floor back in Knutsford.  Blame is not being apportioned here (yeh, right). Suffice to say I’d done the packing he should have done the carrying. But, oh how we all laughed. Ha ha ha. So much fun! It was a classic and all part of the carry-on-camping adventure. We said. At least we had our wash bags and the clothes we stood in. No1 Daughter promised to buy us knickers and underpants the next day, which she did. My Man’s were Woolies best. Serve him right. Mine were New Look. Laahvly.

I couldn’t get pictures of My Man in his Woolie's keks out of my mind, oh boy, so I wasn't paying heed to where I was walking and tripped up the kerb, breaking the strap on my best and most loved, most expensive of all time, Red or Dead sandals. I had nothing else to wear so borrowed No1 Daughter's spare rubber flip-flops -  she’s a size 8 and I’m a 5. So what, flip-flops won’t be a problem, will they? Not like they’ve got sides or backs just a post for me toes and that can’t make a difference can it? Might look daft but heh, we were camping so anything goes. Well it didn't matter, that is until I grew big fat juicy blisters between my toes. I didn't complain though, even when they burst and blood poured forth. I was strong, I was a woman and it was another experience. Off we went to the chemist, bought a huge box of plasters and wrapped me trotters up before travelling far and wide to buy a new pair of sandals. Camping was turning out to be quite an expensive adventure. But we still laughed.

Jack the Dog wasn't enjoying himself quite as much as everyone else. The toddler in the company was quite naughty and kept insisting on ramming his trike up Jack the Dog's bum. Not surprisingly, Jack the Dog didn’t take to kindly to this. A trike for cryin’ out loud? Unfortunately, the toddler was also called Jack and frequent shouts of ' Jack. Stop it' and 'Jack. Leave him alone' put poor Jack the Dog in a state of total bewilderment. Eventually, his tail between his legs (better than a trike) and with a heart-rending look of great sadness he went to hide in No1 Daughter’s tent.
  
The last night of camping was party night. It was No1Daughter’s birthday. Happy Birthday Daughter!  I devised what I thought a clever game of ‘drink badminton’. A plastic beaker full of wine had to be held between the teeth when a shot was being played. The aim was not to spill any. It didn't matter whether a goal was scored. It was a brilliant way to exercise and we ran around for all we were worth. Eventually, in various states of collapse, everyone was declared a winner because everyone spilt wine and nobody had not!

Six o'clock the following morning and I was in need of a wee. Getting dressed in the so-called tent was not easy, even with a helping hand from My Man. I'd well overdone it playing badminton (not the wine as some would say, that was mostly on the floor) and was having trouble putting one foot in front of the other. Halfway to the loo-house I, realising I would never make it, swung a leg round and stumbled back towards the tent. Focusing all my energy on reaching the car, I rocked, like both legs were peg-legs, along the path, even managing a ‘good-morning’, to one daft, healthy’ proper walking camper. Getting to the car I stood up straight and with one last lurch, I fell, naye reader, I crashed, right across it, stomach first, arms stretched over the roof, hanging on with all my might. I sized up the situation and thought if I was very slow and very, very careful I could edge my way around the car boot to the tent. Bravely, I let go and promptly fell flat on my back. I couldn’t move and there was My man, all folded up in the one- man tent, watching this performance with sheer joy before eventually coming out to drag me back in. What to do? What to do? Aarrgh, stop the bus! I still hadn’t been for a wee and was getting close to wetting me knickers! There was nothing else that could be done. Emergency! Emergency! I sent My Man to get the catering size mayonnaise bucket (with lid, empty, thank god, and washed),his mother, against his remonstrations of, ‘she can’t use that!’, had thoughtfully provided. It certainly wasn't easy in that tiny space but being a goer and desperate I proved him wrong, quite admirably really. I then, with the dexterous movements only a lady such as myself can manage and without spilling a drop, handed the full bucket, not clean and without lid to My Man. He took it off me and actually asked what I wanted him to do with it. I told him. Nicely. He wondered if his mother wanted the bucket back and he wasn’t joking!

We went for a day to Lyme Regis where a seagull kept teasing Jack the Dog. I wanted a photo, so camera in hand I positioned myself into what I thought would be the best angle. Yer know, all arty farty, I thought. Ready to shoot, as they say, I sat back on my haunches leaning so far back I hit the floor, arms and legs akimbo and looking for all to see - and there were many -  like a dying hippo.

The last days of our adventure were spent at No1 Daughter’s bloke’s parents. It was the first and only time we met them. We were all sitting outside under the stars, drinking wine, chatting quietly and enjoying the peace of the evening when suddenly all hell broke loose. Jack the Dog raced across the lawn chasing the cats. I chased after Jack the Dog. The cats jumped on the fence, Jack tried to jump on the fence, I, unknowingly jumped on a plank of wood. The plank was only half balanced on some steps. I went flying, feet first, landing a couple of inches away from the greenhouse.
    
What an adventure and what a laugh!




Thursday, August 29, 2013

Camp-bridge Folk


Camp-bridge Folk  (Festival)  Extracts from a letter to someone

I'm typing this cos holding a pen whilst writing and you being able to read that writing would be near impossible. My fingers are behaving like spoilt children. They're all over the place and won't do a thing I tell them! They start the day fairly orderly, folded over looking just like giant cornish pasties and then all hell breaks loose:).
Well I'm finally recovering from our camping adventure to Cambride Folk Festival. Oh, how we laughed when we tucked into our cosy, luxurious little tent on the first night! Well, not so cosy - it was freezing and I went to bed fully dressed with the very fetching addition of My Man's socks, not so luxurious - the ground was as lumpy as a teenager's acne'd face, but definitely little as our butler, (No. 1 Son) and maid, (No. 1 Son's ex-girlfriend) couldn't put up the larger tent we were supposed to be sleeping in! That one had an en-suite. Ok, not so much as an en-suite, more of a spare compartment where I was planning on using my especially bought wee-wee bags (recommended by Amazon buyers, no less) thereby, solving my public toilet phobia. Isn't it wonderful the stuff you can buy nowadays? You can also get poo bags, but I didn't primarily cos they are expensive, also cos Mark objected (probably because he'd be in charge of disposal), and I know the butler and maid would not have wanted to muck in. Honestly, staff these days. We did laugh though. On the first night. It's amazing what gin and tonic can do.

The bands on that night were brilliant and we danced ourselves silly. No, that can't be right. We were silly to start with. We did dance - a lot. I also tripped over some bags (that's my story), falling flat on my back. As I went down with my arms outstretched, I saw Mark, my new friend, the maid, the butler and Uncle Tom Cobbley an' all watching with grins as wide as a an alligator about to be fed. I laughed too. Well, it didn't hurt and if I can bring a smile to the faces of those around me it's worth it. I'm soooooo hardy and it's amazing what gin and tonic can do. Wink. Next morning I had the biggest, blackest bruise I've ever, ever seen in my whole, extremely short life!

Our camp was a bit of a distance from the main festival site so double-decker buses were laid on to take us back and forth with an organiser counting everyone boarding for upstairs. He'd safely got to about 32 and oh dear, I just couldn't resist it. " 88 two fat ladies" shouted Big Mouth Pauline, following that up with a couple more bingo calls. Before you could say "Oooone huuuunndred annnnnnnnnnd eighteeeeeee" (to mix the darts and bingo lingo), the whole bus joined in. It was very funny, albeit naughty. I think the bus driver enjoyed all the frivolity cos he took us for more than a ride - around a roundabout - several times! It's amazing what gin and tonic can do. He received a well- deserved round ......................................of applause.
Oh I must tell you about the person stood in front of us in the marquee. I say person cos I and the maid were confused for ages. Tall, slim, non-existent hips, V body but there were the sparkly earings, be-ribboned pony -tail, bling hairslides and plenty of make-up, eye-liner, nail varnish, the lot. It was Mark who pointed out the big feet. Then again I know plenty of women in size 8's (not me, I hasten to add,I'm a dainty 51/2) but the hands, the hands! Shovels! He could have been a grave-digger with those. What really gave the game away though, was the mass of grey, curly hairs on his neck.With Mark having the very same and me being an expert neck shaver ......... well, nuff said! Whatever floats yer boat.
So, a good time was had but I doubt we'll be doing it again. Not in a tent anyway. No matter how luxurious and no matter if I had my own private privvy! No matter how much gin and tonic.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Blind Dating


Blind Dating (i)

One blind date I went on lasted oh, for all of an hour. On the phone he said he looked like Robert Redford.   Oh I know, warning bells and all that but a gal’s gotta take some chances. Anyway, I suppose he did look like Robbie, in a fat, cheap, I'm a dick sort of way.  Not a good start so I could only hope the evening would bring a pleasant surprise or two, that was until, while on our way to the pub, he kept singing three words of a song I’d never heard of.  Over and over again, just the same three words. Eventually I asked him why didn’t he sing the whole song? He said he didn't know any of the rest. So, the three words it was. I was going to say I wish I could remember them but I don't so I'd be lying. We drove by The Smoker at Plumley and he wanted to know if I ever drank in there.  'Yes', I answered and at which he promptly did a U-turn and took me home.  Apparently, I was too posh.


Blind Dating (ii)

He was good looking, well-dressed, polite, intelligent and fun and I thought my luck was in. Not bad for a sort of blind date having met playing racing on the motorway going home from Newcastle - my friend was driving while I was busy giving the Royal wave. Anyways, we’d joined up for a coffee at some services or other and he and I arranged to meet in a pub in Knutsford the following evening.  He was in insurance and oddly perhaps, the TA but I wasn't going to let that spoil the evening. Somebody has to do it, be patriotic ‘n all that. He openly admired my legs (well they were good…..haha, were!) and thought my stockings were very sexy, very silky looking.  Would I mind if he touched them?  Hmmm.  Well, why not?  What harm? After all they were in the middle of a busy pub. Oh go on then. He touched my knee. Ooo, they felt as good as they looked, he told me. What make?  Charnos.  What colour?  Amethyst.  Where from?  Broadbents.  Well this was different.  Was he planning on buying me stockings instead of the usual flowers or choccies?  A bit retro that, I thought, you know WW2 and GI Joe? Does this mean another date? It could have done but no. I mean, whilst I did admire his frankness I just couldn’t see myself going along with his idea. I wasn’t the only one as it seems his wife couldn’t either so she left him. He wanted the stockings for himself. Turned out he liked dressing up in women’s clothing. Bah!


Blind Dating (iii)

He told me he had brown hair.  It was grey and to go with it he wore a pink v neck jumper over a navy polo shirt and light grey slacks with light grey shoes. Apart from that he was a pleasant enough bloke, I suppose, if you like that style........and he was a crap driver.


Blind Dating (iv)

Having heard a description of me from her friend Tracy, Sir Reginald Boldnuts (not his real name but he was a Sir), asked for my phone number and called me up for a date. I, for a laugh, accepted. He picked me up in his green MGB - very nice - and took me for a drink.  He was quite distinguished looking and beautifully dressed. He had a commanding presence being over six feet tall, broad shouldered, straight backed.  But then there was the white hair and the voice. BOOM BOOM BOOM!  In 1950's BBC radio queen's English. TWO G AND T'S PLEASE, MY GOOD MAN. Oh dear. Let's sit down shall we, in that room at the back…….. there…..in the corner?
The niceties over, talk of his estates, yacht etc, he got down to brass tacks.  What he enjoyed more than anything was to wake up in the morning with a nice warm woman lying next to him and hearing the baa of his sheep on his land. He wanted to know what I thought.
'Oh no!', says I .  'Kick 'em out by three. Can't be doing with sharing me bed and me brekkie. Nooooo!!!  Kick 'em out.  With a great big boot up the arse'.

He gave me his card should I change my mind.

Wanker.


Blind Dating (v)

He told me had an aeroplane. He didn't stop telling me about his aeroplane. The whole evening I listened politely while he talked about his bloody aeroplane. For crying out loud, I wish I’d never said he could park it on my drive. I thought he should get in his aeroplane take off and never land but I was too polite to say so. I even said thankyou when he dropped me off. And can you believe it? He didn’t ask me for another date!!!!! 


Friday, August 16, 2013

Just got back from Skirtland (we took the High Road), so haven't got the energy to write about anything but I wanted to try and find out why is it that quite a few people, thousands as it 'appens, have told me they've posted comments on my blog but the comments are nowhere to be seen. If anyone can sort me out (arsenic?) I'd be very happy to pour them a gin and drink it. Cheers m'dears.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Talk Telephone

Talk Telephone

When I pulled up at the traffic lights in my funny, green 2 CV, especially at pedestrian crossings, I use to pick up my phone and chat away. Ok, what’s so smart about that you may ask? Well believe me, it got people staring everytime and they were obviously puzzled. I’m sure they were asking themselves if I was I off my head and if I was how come I was allowed to drive? That’s because my phone was a black, ancient Bakerlite, the sort with the massive handset and an old-fashioned dial with holes for each letter and number which was stuck on a huge black base. You had to shove your fingers in the relevant holes (ooerrr) and turn the dial and hard luck on your fingernails. So, making sure I could be seen picking up the huge receiver, I’d dial up then natter away until the lights turned red when I'd carefully, with a goodbye, replace the receiver and drive away.

I did take it into the square in Knuttyford one day and did much the same thing only this time I had to take it out of my (big) bag and rest it on a post while I dialled.  I was walking and it was heavy. When I finished my  ‘call’ I returned the whole thing to my bag and walked on.  For the life of me I didn't dare look to see if anyone was watching. I know I would have become embarrassed and blushed for England and I didn't have an engine beneath me to make for a quick get-away.



Sunday, August 4, 2013

The Unspoken

The Unspoken

Writing my last post has made me realise bad language had reared it’s ugly head long before I embraced it with a passion.  When I was about nine or ten years old I wrote all the swear words I knew - which were many by that age due to a highly- tuned ear and an older brother, hah and not forgetting Tony - in lipstick pinched off mum, on my bedroom mirror. How dared I? I must have been in trouble of some sort as I was very angry with mum that day and this seemed a perfectly expressive way to show it even though I  was quite aware I was being naughty. Very naughty! 

Even more daringly (and more stupidly), I went out without cleaning them off first. Aaargh! God knows how I dared to go back in and face the wrath of mum, oh no, much worse, maybe even dad. Managing to sneak past The Parents I ran up to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. What did I see? Not a word of any kind in sight. Somebody, and I know not whom to this day, had cleaned the mirror back to it’s original shine. Be still my beating hear. Saved! Mightily embarrassed, I remember going downstairs expecting some at the minimum a good talking too but not one word about my unladylike behaviour was said. The episode was The Unspoken….forever.


Saturday, August 3, 2013

It's Not Cricket

It’s Not Cricket

Da-de-da, dum-da-dum, la-la-la. I was probably about 5yrs old, singing my heart out and typically, lost in my own little world in my own little bedroom. Continuing to sing, tra-la-la-la, I began to skip down the stairs, my sweet, sweet tones growing louder and louder as I reached the bottom step. La-la-la, de-de-de-, fe-fi-fo-fum, fum fum fuc fuc fuckFUCK. I flung open the door to the living room, stepped in and dramatically flinging my arms right out,I made my grand finale. Oh God, I can see it right now. I stood, poised like a star-in-waiting (and still waiting, unfortunately) in front of my lovely turban-headed mum, herself having just been lost in her own world whilst black-leading the fireplace (we lived in a very old house with a very old fireplace). She had turned to face me, mouth almost wide enough to swallow her own face as with all the breath in my very young body I belted out

                                      "FUCK OFF!"

"Where did you pick those up from?", she demanded to know, I think as calmly as only mums know how but certainly I can remember a weird look on her face.

Mumbling “what?”, from the corner of my mouth because, now tired with all the effort of performing, I had shoved my thumb in its usual resting place when speaking, the other corner of my mouth.

"Those words. The ones you were just singing.”

Honestly, I could see something wasn’t quite right, mum was rarely without a big smile, but I didn’t have a clue what. She wasn’t smiling then, that’s for sure. Taking my thumb out for a brief moment I told her, "I asked our Colin and Tony Miller if I could play cricket with them and Tony Miller said ‘fuck off’.

"Don't ever let me hear you say them again", she said and went back to her black-leading
"Ok", says I, returning my thumb to where it belonged. Centre stage of La Bouche! 

That reminds me of virtually the only French I ever made use of after 2yrs of being Paulette in Miss Walton’s class. I’d tease mum when she rabbited on, which was fairly often (heh, I can hear you. J) with “ferme la grande bouche”. She didn’t have a clue, “Oh, stop it”, she’d say, always with a hint of a smile. To this day I still don’t know if that is actually correct but it worked for me and was a great one to use against a bad-tempered welsh-speaking dad who didn’t like foreign food, especially curry. “I’m not eating that muck”, he’d say. He was very proud of his Welsh heritage, was my dad and it’s a shame that we only found out after he died that he was actually of Indian and English descent. Not a spot of Welsh blood in him. I wonder what he’d have said. “Ooh, I love curry, I do”. He was a very contrary man.

                 
We grew up knowing the only person in our house permitted to use bad language was dad when he was in a bad mood and then it was a case of ‘bloody’ or ‘bugger’ and he was permitted because he was head of the house which he frequently informed us. Actually, he’d tell us he was Head Serak. I reckon that’s Welsh! Mum would occasionally say ‘damn and blast’ which I always thought was like a little song. Not that I’d dare sing that. No, I’d learnt my lesson. We could never have said God, either. Never. Mum was firm on that one.
Hard to believe though it is, No1 Son and No1 Daughter were brought up in a strictly non-swearing household. Honest! Although their dad would, out of sheer devilment and to their delight, suddenly say, “bloody bugger sodface”. I’d feign shock and tell him to behave, they’d go,” aah dad, you can’t say that”. “What?” he’d ask, “What did I say?” “You know. You said naughty words”. “I didn’t did I? Tell me what I said”. "Nooooo. We can't do that". And on it would go until one of my beautiful, perfect children would give in and with a quick look at me, the words would spurt out, “bloody bugger sodface”.

It wasn’t really until 1984 I started to swear. George Orwell didn’t predict that one did he? What turned me on, so to speak, was an extremely intelligent, erudite, confident young woman who worked in same office as I. It was the middle of a morning in the middle of the office and she was bemoaning about something or other. I have no idea what as all I could hear was ‘fucking’. I was so shocked. I mean she was stone-cold sober! No excuse! It was at work. Open plan office. Quiet as a turned off telly. An office full of serious people doing serious things in a serious nuclear industry. And she said THAT WORD. Aaarrgh! Oh, how I loved it. I was mightily impressed. The effect on me was so great I swore then to swear! And I do, as and when necessary J

Having said that, there have always been three words that I have found embarrassing to say, not including the ‘c’ word which I would never say. S H 1 T is one. In my day it was sugar! I once heard a very respectable, well-turned out older lady say that word and it sounded just so wrong! Pure filth spewing from her delicately painted lips. Yuk.
At that same serious office with the same serious people in the same serious nuclear industry as I mentioned earlier, I’d stupidly told someone the other two words that made me blush to high heaven. One day, my head down, busy working, I heard my name called, “P”. I looked up to find quite a gathering of men which could have been very welcome but readers, they were not. One of them said those two words and all of them laughed their daft heads off as they watched my face turning redder than the apple of my eye, redder than a post office van, oh for God’s sake, redder than redder! Yes, that red. Since then I’ve made myself say those words out loud to cure myself of blushing. 

Oh, you want to know what they are? Sorry, I may be blush cured but I can’t give you jam on your bread.



Thursday, August 1, 2013

Hello, is it me you’re looking for?

This is what greeted callers to our landline when the answerphone switched on…………sung by me in a very bad Lionel Ritchie way so I thought it a good starting point for my first ever blog. Because of course, you are looking for me and here I am!

 I’m going to write about nothing in particular, whatever takes my fancy and hopefully floats your boat.  Random stuff from tales (tails?) about Bo the Dog (her of the anals) to Mahler’s 8th with something for everyone and anyone to laugh at or mull over. Fun and laughter has been a big part of my life and I want to share some of the crazy things that have happened to me and mine. Look out for the ‘Angela’ story..………………It was a bleak winter’s night as we were crossing the moors, dark as a witches hovel and to make matters worse, a torrential rainstorm was thrashing down on our old Renault 5 when suddenly…………….

Sadly, there is just one story where there is absolutely no fun to be had but because I shall be writing about me and mine I feel I should start off with it. It’s been a tough year here at Turner Towers as the saddest, most heart-breaking thing ever has happened, my No1 Son Paul died last May.  I wrote a piece  The Guardian printed recently which you might like to read so here’s a link and a pic of Paul taken on my wedding day:-