Is 31st March already. Very cold wind. Rain. Ugh. But yesterday I had phone call from France, and piping voice ( grandson, 5 years old), saying 'Hello Nana, thank you for the eggs'! (Heart melts Comme D'Habitude) Glad to hear Easter Eggs and assorted goodies duly arrived. (Recall from previous blog The Great Packing Procedure). Piping voice continues 'My baby brother has eaten all his already'. This is other grandson,who is two, and also comes to the phone equally piping and delicious.They are scrumptious beyond belief. They are half-french, and bilingual already, especially the eldest. Amazement!!! (I know, there is no such word). Have prolonged conversation with eldest grandson, who is becoming very well informed about rugby, and supports France. I hasten to add he supports England where football is concerned. I wish I could see more of them.
Have spent today dressing up for photographs (No No! Not those sort of photographs!)
Don black dress, black boots, black beret and adopt various tragic poses for video accompanying my lament 'The Web Widow Blues', which will soon join the others on Youtube. Mission Control near Geneva is in charge, and has received photos by e-mail, which took aeons to send. Also computer keeps going down, which is interfering with the general flow. After looking at photos decide need to chop a couple of inches off hair, as look decidedly witch-like, and not Rapunzel like as I fondly imagine.
Easter is looming, so expedition to local market town proposed for tomorrow. Two has announces he wants to buy the film 'Vassitar'. I profess this is a new one on me, and after some probing, discover he wants to get 'Avatar'. I don't think this is really his cup of tea, but hey ho.
Am surprised to feel so worried about Wayne Rooney, following the announcement he has Hurt His Ankle. In my opinion he should have been mothballed until the World Cup.
Discovered that son of acquaintance from past-life, was part of Oscar winning team for the sound on the Hurt Locker! Once again, Amazement! Found this out because I occasionally check on web-site for village where lived before. Am also playing around with Face-Book, but am confused by bits of it. Hoping fog will clear eventually. Two is currently watching Deal or No Deal, (Creature of Habit) before setting to and making scrambled eggs. Presume okay for him to munch eggs again, as Bowel Problem is resolved.
Will end now, unless have Breaking News later.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
Red Letter Day continues...
Still Tuesday March 30th. Two has lost the slightly pained expression he has been wearing since his Nasty Problem materialised. Followers will know that this has been on-going for some considerable time. The Wily One has become Much More Chipper now.
I drive him to the doctors to collect his armoury of medication, and on the way back find myself following bus up hill. Bus stops, and I prepare to signal and overtake, whilst keeping Eagle Eye on bus in case IT indicates and pulls out, which it duly does. Two flies into frenzy, and regretfully so do I. Sharp Snapping ensues between us, as I point out that I am focused, aware, and tense as a coiled spring whilst driving, ready for anything. (I did not overtake bus.) Two relapses into sulky silence, and I gain my revenge by Engaging Fifth Gear on the National Speed Limit section of the drive home, and gliding smoothly into car park. Also park straight, as enraged.
Nice Cup of Tea follows altercation, and Two switches on TV to await Countdown (featuring lady in figure hugging dresses) and then Deal Or No Deal, which he thoroughly enjoys as he likes to see people lose money.
It has been drawn to my attention that somebody kindly (I hope) wishes to add a comment to my Blogs, but was unable to do so. I am, as we speak, putting this right, and will enable this feature.
Second helping of the Famous Home Made Cottage Pie tonight. Is definitely Cottage, as made with minced beef. Might watch The Diving Bell and the Butterfly tonight, although Two has no desire to see this film because it has sub-titles. Lordy Lordy. I am married to a Philistine.
I drive him to the doctors to collect his armoury of medication, and on the way back find myself following bus up hill. Bus stops, and I prepare to signal and overtake, whilst keeping Eagle Eye on bus in case IT indicates and pulls out, which it duly does. Two flies into frenzy, and regretfully so do I. Sharp Snapping ensues between us, as I point out that I am focused, aware, and tense as a coiled spring whilst driving, ready for anything. (I did not overtake bus.) Two relapses into sulky silence, and I gain my revenge by Engaging Fifth Gear on the National Speed Limit section of the drive home, and gliding smoothly into car park. Also park straight, as enraged.
Nice Cup of Tea follows altercation, and Two switches on TV to await Countdown (featuring lady in figure hugging dresses) and then Deal Or No Deal, which he thoroughly enjoys as he likes to see people lose money.
It has been drawn to my attention that somebody kindly (I hope) wishes to add a comment to my Blogs, but was unable to do so. I am, as we speak, putting this right, and will enable this feature.
Second helping of the Famous Home Made Cottage Pie tonight. Is definitely Cottage, as made with minced beef. Might watch The Diving Bell and the Butterfly tonight, although Two has no desire to see this film because it has sub-titles. Lordy Lordy. I am married to a Philistine.
Monday, 29 March 2010
Suffering after-effects of jiving!!!
Wake up Monday morning, can still feel slight pain in thighs due to Much Leaping About on Saturday night. Have decided to re-name posts in future, but for record is Monday March 29th 2010. Am trying to get audio download onto this blog, is rap I recorded some time ago. I know is unusual for lady of my advanced years to rap, but why not? Am still puzzled as to who Melanie is. (see last blog). Hope she isn't eighty-five, but have horrible feeling might be.
Youngest daughter and The Feckless One, hereby re-christened The Thoughtful One, are flying off to Sri Lanka tonight for eight days. Well-deserved holiday.
Am now linked with Facebook!!! Spend hours navigating round Internet, and am a little confused, but persevering. Is amazing what you can do. Am currently trying to find old school-friends. (very old now).
Is dismal and raining here. Two is getting into a lather trying to download the rap onto this blog. Plus he still hasn't opened his bowels properly, which tends to make him ratty.
Youngest daughter and The Feckless One, hereby re-christened The Thoughtful One, are flying off to Sri Lanka tonight for eight days. Well-deserved holiday.
Am now linked with Facebook!!! Spend hours navigating round Internet, and am a little confused, but persevering. Is amazing what you can do. Am currently trying to find old school-friends. (very old now).
Is dismal and raining here. Two is getting into a lather trying to download the rap onto this blog. Plus he still hasn't opened his bowels properly, which tends to make him ratty.
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Diary date 27th March 2010
Sunny day, but Chilly Wind. Off to supermarket(yawn). Two is busy stocking up on dates and bananas (yawn), while I ferret about in the candle and bric a brac section to alleviate boredom. Eventually finish shop and head home. Check e-mails and discover daughter-in-law near Geneva has popped another of my tracks onto YouTube. Very excited again, and immediately have a look. The track is called 'The Inebriate Wife', and she has cleverly manipulated the video bit so it goes all wibbly and wobbly in manner of intoxicated object. Am very impressed.
As evening approaches I begin to wonder what to wear for 'Night at Pub'. Have discovered is singer tonight, Steven Shane, or is it Shane Steven? Anyway am assured is very good. Try on little black number from charity shop, and seems okay. Unfortunately reveals ruched arms and need to wear cardigan or similar. Try wrap-around thingy, and seems to work. Apply polyfilla etc. etc. and eventually wander downstairs where Two is chuckling at something on TV. Completely ignores me, which is par for the course. I usually ask him to confirm I am not looking mutton dressed as lamb, but have decided his opinion is not on the whole to be trusted. Check appearance in mirror and discover dress has poked up into hump effect at the back, which is never a good look. Pull dress down, but immediately I move the hump re-appears. Seems to be copious amount of material in back of dress. Must have narrow back as well as narrow head. Decide to change as even I am a little too young for Dowagers Hump. Put on straight skirt and white top. Is better. Teeter over to pub etc.....
Settle at bar waiting for show to start, when two people across the room start waving at me wildly. Without my glasses am unable to make out their faces, little more than distant blur in fact, but decide best option to wave wildly back. The husband from Wildly Waving Pair comes up to bar and says to me 'Hello Melanie'. 'I'm not Melanie' I say. He seems so sure, I am tempted to Be Melanie for him, but feel this will certainly cause even greater confusion. He is peering at me closely, and I have distinct feeling have fallen down rabbit hole. 'Oh God no' he suddenly says, 'You're not Melanie. She's not Melanie' he shouts across to his wife. Jane, behind the bar is nonplussed, as indeed are we. 'You're the spitting image of her' the man goes on, 'Honestly, you have a double'. After apologising again, he retreats and I left wondering, who is Melanie. Will she come in? Will she be younger than me, or what is more likely, much older? Spend evening waiting in trepidation for arrival of doppelganger, who sadly (or not) fails to materialise.
After all this excitement, the singer swings into action with medley of songs from fifties and sixties. He will, he informs us, cover all the decades in course of evenings entertainment. Sadly the pub is nowhere near as busy as last Saturday, but the two rather prim looking ladies who always arrive and imbibe two glasses of white wine each, are esconced in corner, and begin their lip-synching, prior to more uninhibited swaying as the alcohol kicks in. Singer is good, and begins to circumnavigate room. Approaches me (always in the line of fire), and thrusts microphone in my face to sing chorus. Recoil and this gets a laugh, but secretly wish had amazing voice and could dumbfound everyone with thrilling solo. Alas have not got amazing voice, so sing-a-long quietly like everyone else.
By midnight, as always, a few more people have drifted in, and the singer is encouraging people to Get Up and Dance. I am always itching to dance, but relucant to be The First On the Floor. Jane the barmaid is obviously hatching plan to get me up and dancing, (worrying thought, am I dancing buffoon?). There is a chap at the bar called Trevor, who is a regular, and is also obviously itching to dance. Two is neither an extrovert, nor a dancer, and never shows the slightest inclination to Get Up and Leap About. Jane suddenly makes executive decision and pushes rug on floor out of the way. 'Come on Val, come on Trevor' she shouts, and There is No Escape. Trevor and I take centre stage to 'Johnny Be Good', which is extremely fast. Jiving with comparative stranger is no easy thing. You never know when they are going to twiddle you round, or suddenly twirl you underarm and back again. I do my best, but one of my shoes with vertiginous heels is losing the slingback bit, and I have nightmare vision of crashing to ground in heap of broken brittle bones. Somehow we manage to get through number, (actually I enjoyed it), and then launch ourselves into second jive routine, again at breakneck speed. Trevor thanks me in gentlemanly fashion, and I totter back to chair, thankful at least to be in one piece.
Amazing really, pub is microcosm of life in Derbyshire Dales. The people are Very Friendly, Good Natured, and Intent Upon Having Fun. Good for them. If have to be dancing buffoon somewhere, here will do nicely.
Home at 1 am. Remember to put clocks forward and retire to bed. Back is aching a bit, but soon fall asleep to strains of 'Johnny Be Good' in sub-conscious.
As evening approaches I begin to wonder what to wear for 'Night at Pub'. Have discovered is singer tonight, Steven Shane, or is it Shane Steven? Anyway am assured is very good. Try on little black number from charity shop, and seems okay. Unfortunately reveals ruched arms and need to wear cardigan or similar. Try wrap-around thingy, and seems to work. Apply polyfilla etc. etc. and eventually wander downstairs where Two is chuckling at something on TV. Completely ignores me, which is par for the course. I usually ask him to confirm I am not looking mutton dressed as lamb, but have decided his opinion is not on the whole to be trusted. Check appearance in mirror and discover dress has poked up into hump effect at the back, which is never a good look. Pull dress down, but immediately I move the hump re-appears. Seems to be copious amount of material in back of dress. Must have narrow back as well as narrow head. Decide to change as even I am a little too young for Dowagers Hump. Put on straight skirt and white top. Is better. Teeter over to pub etc.....
Settle at bar waiting for show to start, when two people across the room start waving at me wildly. Without my glasses am unable to make out their faces, little more than distant blur in fact, but decide best option to wave wildly back. The husband from Wildly Waving Pair comes up to bar and says to me 'Hello Melanie'. 'I'm not Melanie' I say. He seems so sure, I am tempted to Be Melanie for him, but feel this will certainly cause even greater confusion. He is peering at me closely, and I have distinct feeling have fallen down rabbit hole. 'Oh God no' he suddenly says, 'You're not Melanie. She's not Melanie' he shouts across to his wife. Jane, behind the bar is nonplussed, as indeed are we. 'You're the spitting image of her' the man goes on, 'Honestly, you have a double'. After apologising again, he retreats and I left wondering, who is Melanie. Will she come in? Will she be younger than me, or what is more likely, much older? Spend evening waiting in trepidation for arrival of doppelganger, who sadly (or not) fails to materialise.
After all this excitement, the singer swings into action with medley of songs from fifties and sixties. He will, he informs us, cover all the decades in course of evenings entertainment. Sadly the pub is nowhere near as busy as last Saturday, but the two rather prim looking ladies who always arrive and imbibe two glasses of white wine each, are esconced in corner, and begin their lip-synching, prior to more uninhibited swaying as the alcohol kicks in. Singer is good, and begins to circumnavigate room. Approaches me (always in the line of fire), and thrusts microphone in my face to sing chorus. Recoil and this gets a laugh, but secretly wish had amazing voice and could dumbfound everyone with thrilling solo. Alas have not got amazing voice, so sing-a-long quietly like everyone else.
By midnight, as always, a few more people have drifted in, and the singer is encouraging people to Get Up and Dance. I am always itching to dance, but relucant to be The First On the Floor. Jane the barmaid is obviously hatching plan to get me up and dancing, (worrying thought, am I dancing buffoon?). There is a chap at the bar called Trevor, who is a regular, and is also obviously itching to dance. Two is neither an extrovert, nor a dancer, and never shows the slightest inclination to Get Up and Leap About. Jane suddenly makes executive decision and pushes rug on floor out of the way. 'Come on Val, come on Trevor' she shouts, and There is No Escape. Trevor and I take centre stage to 'Johnny Be Good', which is extremely fast. Jiving with comparative stranger is no easy thing. You never know when they are going to twiddle you round, or suddenly twirl you underarm and back again. I do my best, but one of my shoes with vertiginous heels is losing the slingback bit, and I have nightmare vision of crashing to ground in heap of broken brittle bones. Somehow we manage to get through number, (actually I enjoyed it), and then launch ourselves into second jive routine, again at breakneck speed. Trevor thanks me in gentlemanly fashion, and I totter back to chair, thankful at least to be in one piece.
Amazing really, pub is microcosm of life in Derbyshire Dales. The people are Very Friendly, Good Natured, and Intent Upon Having Fun. Good for them. If have to be dancing buffoon somewhere, here will do nicely.
Home at 1 am. Remember to put clocks forward and retire to bed. Back is aching a bit, but soon fall asleep to strains of 'Johnny Be Good' in sub-conscious.
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Diary date 26th March 2010
Get up early to discover Two has munched his way through entire box of dates, a banana sandwich and some rhubarb crumble. This would seem to suggest on-going battle with bowels. Wonder if his problem might be side-effect of medication, as takes so many different pills. He informs me he also took a couple of laxative tablets before going to bed, and zilch happened.
Watched the film Hurt Locker last night and was gripped by the unbelievable tension. Literally had hands over ears anticipating explosions, but very very good film, makes you think about war and the effect it has on the combatants. Pleased lady director got oscar, well deserved.
Am so chuffed today to discover daughter-in-law near Geneva has uploaded two more of my songs (well, one song, one spoken piece) onto Youtube! Cannot resist peeking to see how many 'hits' they are getting. Would be fantastic to get even 100!!!
Have decided to order book 'Blogging for Dummies' as don't fully understand how this all works. Hopefully will arrive tomorrow and will gain insight. Am technophobe extrordinaire, clicking on buttons willy nilly. Would like to follow other blogs, but can't quite work out how. Hopefully book will provide answer.
Is Saturday tomorrow, still don't know what is on at pub. Will be there though, regardless.
Watched the film Hurt Locker last night and was gripped by the unbelievable tension. Literally had hands over ears anticipating explosions, but very very good film, makes you think about war and the effect it has on the combatants. Pleased lady director got oscar, well deserved.
Am so chuffed today to discover daughter-in-law near Geneva has uploaded two more of my songs (well, one song, one spoken piece) onto Youtube! Cannot resist peeking to see how many 'hits' they are getting. Would be fantastic to get even 100!!!
Have decided to order book 'Blogging for Dummies' as don't fully understand how this all works. Hopefully will arrive tomorrow and will gain insight. Am technophobe extrordinaire, clicking on buttons willy nilly. Would like to follow other blogs, but can't quite work out how. Hopefully book will provide answer.
Is Saturday tomorrow, still don't know what is on at pub. Will be there though, regardless.
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Diary date 25th March 2010
Still can't believe am on Youtube! Is amazing! Keep going in to look at it, seems incredible to one born in the age of steam radio!
Decided to parcel up Easter Eggs and gifts for grandsons in Paris, so went down to post-office and procured large put-it-together-yourself cardboard box. Hand this to Two, who has missed his vocation as a Wrapper and Packer. He uses the same methodical and careful procedure as when lighting fire, except the surgical gloves are not brought into play. He is a bit upset at the moment because the blackbird has temporarily vanished, and I wonder if it is something he said. After all, who knows what he tweeted, could have been insulting in blackbird. He begins to assemble the box with immense care and much crawling around on the carpet. He begins at 12.20 and finishes at 1.45. I fight to remain silent, as I cannot assemble box myself. The only time I attempted anything remotely practical, was when I bought a self-assembly set of shelves, and the result was hilarious. It had a pronounced list and had to be taken apart and re-jigged. But the box is ready to have the Easter Eggs, some clothes, a DVD and two small walkie talkies placed therein. Bubble wrap is brought into play, and Two then spends another 30 minutes juggling everything around, and then re-siting everything and shaking his head. I can see the post-office will be closed by the time it is ready to go, but still I manage to Keep Quiet. At last I am allowed to put the address on, and assume we can now pop out to post it. Alas no, the super-strength parcel tape is fetched, and several more minutes spent assiduously sticking this on at every weak point. Of which there are many. At last we are in the car and heading for the post-office, where it is weighed. The man behind the desk calculates the cost and unleashes a Sharp Intake of Breath. It is going to cost £31 to send it, more than the contents are worth I imagine. He helpfully suggests I divide the contents into two smaller boxes, which will be much less expensive. I am aghast at thought of Two grappling again, probably for many hours, and so I send it as it is.
Am now watching Countdown in manner of OAPs or rather IMPS all over country. Am becoming increasingly disgusted at clothes worn by new female replacement for Carol Vorderman. Her dresses are extremely tight and cling to her contours eagerly. It must give the old boys out there a thrill, but does seem inappropriate for day-time TV, mainly aimed at older generation. I feel a letter to Channel 4 coming on, or am I joining ranks of Grumpy Old Women?
Must mention have noticed small but perceptible improvement in skin since starting New Regime. Might be wishful thinking of course, but am hopeful that youthful elasticity is starting to make comeback.
Have not asked Two about his constipation recently, but he does lock himself in the loo for quite long periods of time, so can only imagine is still having struggle. Also zoo-like miasma not noticable after his visits, which is usually a good indication.
Bought Little Black Dress in Charity Shop yesterday, which I forgot to mention. Sniffed armpits and decided can get away without washing it, so may wear on Saturday night at pub. Not sure what entertainment is this weekend, must check on board outside. Also have bought snazzy black tights with pattern in attempt to compete with Mrs Mateus Rosy, who is nothing if not inspiring. Quite fancy wearing suspender belt and stockings, but cannot find suspender belt anywhere.
Is nearly time for Glass of White Wine. Two is crouched over laptop studying racing form. I do think he over intellectulises this. For the amount of time he spends on this, I would have thought we should be getting rich off the proceeds when he places a bet. Of course he may be getting rich, I wouldn't necessarily know as is Closed Book to me. As long as we are not losing money. But again, I wouldn't know this either as Two very secretive, which is not best thing in married state.
Decided to parcel up Easter Eggs and gifts for grandsons in Paris, so went down to post-office and procured large put-it-together-yourself cardboard box. Hand this to Two, who has missed his vocation as a Wrapper and Packer. He uses the same methodical and careful procedure as when lighting fire, except the surgical gloves are not brought into play. He is a bit upset at the moment because the blackbird has temporarily vanished, and I wonder if it is something he said. After all, who knows what he tweeted, could have been insulting in blackbird. He begins to assemble the box with immense care and much crawling around on the carpet. He begins at 12.20 and finishes at 1.45. I fight to remain silent, as I cannot assemble box myself. The only time I attempted anything remotely practical, was when I bought a self-assembly set of shelves, and the result was hilarious. It had a pronounced list and had to be taken apart and re-jigged. But the box is ready to have the Easter Eggs, some clothes, a DVD and two small walkie talkies placed therein. Bubble wrap is brought into play, and Two then spends another 30 minutes juggling everything around, and then re-siting everything and shaking his head. I can see the post-office will be closed by the time it is ready to go, but still I manage to Keep Quiet. At last I am allowed to put the address on, and assume we can now pop out to post it. Alas no, the super-strength parcel tape is fetched, and several more minutes spent assiduously sticking this on at every weak point. Of which there are many. At last we are in the car and heading for the post-office, where it is weighed. The man behind the desk calculates the cost and unleashes a Sharp Intake of Breath. It is going to cost £31 to send it, more than the contents are worth I imagine. He helpfully suggests I divide the contents into two smaller boxes, which will be much less expensive. I am aghast at thought of Two grappling again, probably for many hours, and so I send it as it is.
Am now watching Countdown in manner of OAPs or rather IMPS all over country. Am becoming increasingly disgusted at clothes worn by new female replacement for Carol Vorderman. Her dresses are extremely tight and cling to her contours eagerly. It must give the old boys out there a thrill, but does seem inappropriate for day-time TV, mainly aimed at older generation. I feel a letter to Channel 4 coming on, or am I joining ranks of Grumpy Old Women?
Must mention have noticed small but perceptible improvement in skin since starting New Regime. Might be wishful thinking of course, but am hopeful that youthful elasticity is starting to make comeback.
Have not asked Two about his constipation recently, but he does lock himself in the loo for quite long periods of time, so can only imagine is still having struggle. Also zoo-like miasma not noticable after his visits, which is usually a good indication.
Bought Little Black Dress in Charity Shop yesterday, which I forgot to mention. Sniffed armpits and decided can get away without washing it, so may wear on Saturday night at pub. Not sure what entertainment is this weekend, must check on board outside. Also have bought snazzy black tights with pattern in attempt to compete with Mrs Mateus Rosy, who is nothing if not inspiring. Quite fancy wearing suspender belt and stockings, but cannot find suspender belt anywhere.
Is nearly time for Glass of White Wine. Two is crouched over laptop studying racing form. I do think he over intellectulises this. For the amount of time he spends on this, I would have thought we should be getting rich off the proceeds when he places a bet. Of course he may be getting rich, I wouldn't necessarily know as is Closed Book to me. As long as we are not losing money. But again, I wouldn't know this either as Two very secretive, which is not best thing in married state.
Diary date 24th March 2010
Am pleased, no thrilled to report that daughter-in-law near Geneva has successfully uploaded my song 'Ello Princess' onto YouTube. She is genius and I am very excited when log on and hear it! Is sung by Two, whose singing voice is a little reminiscent of Max Bygraves, but as is comedy song doesn't matter. Wrote it some time ago and was played on Radio Berkshire when I lived in South. Hope it gets some 'hits', but am aware of huge volume on YouTube. Perhaps should rally friends. Hopefully Daughter-in-Law will be able to upload other pieces, especially parody on 'Brief Encounter', which used to have them Rolling in the Aisles. Have wealth of material, as used to do gigs in former life, and miss excitment and fun of being creative.
Two makes Cottage Pie for supper, bringing me back down to earth. He is fanatical about following recipes, and worries I have peeled the wrong amount of potatoes, as stipulates one and a half pounds in recipe. (I am potato peeler but not creative person in kitchen). Turns out I have in fact peeled just the right amount, but this is more luck than judgement. Eat supper watching Egg-Heads, and then listen to song on YouTube again. Is fantastic, am out there in the ether!
Wonder if my material would go down well in pub? Don't see why not, but am quite nervous at prospect. Watch this space.
Two makes Cottage Pie for supper, bringing me back down to earth. He is fanatical about following recipes, and worries I have peeled the wrong amount of potatoes, as stipulates one and a half pounds in recipe. (I am potato peeler but not creative person in kitchen). Turns out I have in fact peeled just the right amount, but this is more luck than judgement. Eat supper watching Egg-Heads, and then listen to song on YouTube again. Is fantastic, am out there in the ether!
Wonder if my material would go down well in pub? Don't see why not, but am quite nervous at prospect. Watch this space.
Diary date 20th March 2010
Arrive at pub early as requested, once again am decked out in vertiginous......etc etc etc. Have found dress in wardrobe never yet worn, and am feeling very daring, as has low neckline and is just above the knees. Hope will be lost in crowd and not viewed as Mutton Dressed as Lamb. Unfortunately crowd not yet arrived, nor has band, so keep coat on. An hour later band arrive and order drinks at bar before laconically setting up equipment. Am not sure what to expect as racy name implies something a little Out Of the Ordinary. Transpires Rex and the Foreskins, or Four Skins, ( I don't know which), are three very middle-aged gentleman, comprising accoustic guitarist, drummer and vocalist. Also have very young girl singer on board, so strange mix. After much Faffing About, crawling under seats putting plugs into sockets, they begin. Pub is really filling up now, so consider taking coat off, but hold back for a while. They start with some Irish folk-sings, and this is a Sing-Along, but unfortunately I don't know the words. Nor do most of the punters, although some are making extraordinary movements with their mouths in order to indicate they Do Know the Words. Things hot up, and they break into some more popular and well-known numbers from the Beatles, Rolling Stones etc. Pub is filling to bursting point, and I take off coat. Atmosphere is great with hearty singing and swinging of glasses in manner of German Beer Festival. By half-past ten it is impossible to exit pub through front door, bodies jammed in like sardines. I suddenly see Mrs Mateus Rosy fighting her way in through crowd, and am pleased to note she is still looking svelte and Gok-like in zebra striped dress and fishnets. Think perhaps fishnets and stripes may be fashion faux pas, but she carries it off. Evening grows ever more riotous as various people come up and sing. We have spirited and excellent rendition of 'No more a Rover', ( I think that's what it's called', to the accompiment of bashing of glasses and fists on tables, then a delightful ditty entitled, 'The MacAlpine Fusiliers', which I take to be an anthem to builders.
At half-past one we crawl home exhausted, but in my case, happy. They say pubs are closing at rate of fourteen a day in the UK, but our local is swinging! Long may it last. Goodnight.
At half-past one we crawl home exhausted, but in my case, happy. They say pubs are closing at rate of fourteen a day in the UK, but our local is swinging! Long may it last. Goodnight.
Diary date 19th Match 2010
Has been quiet uneventful week, but tonight is Elvis at pub. Have always loved EP as is part of my early teenage years. First record I bought was Jailhouse Rock, but sadly best friend Diana sat on it, from which it did not recover.
At 8.30 we are ready to go, and once again I am in the vertiginous heels (different pair this time), teamed with (as they say in the fashion mags), white jeans and wrap-around top to hopefully disguise how far my bum has dropped. Not so much 'Does my bum look big in this?' as 'Where has it gone'? Am considering investing in padded knickers to re-create sexy silhouette of yore.
Teeter into pub and immediately encounter Elvis, weaving sinuously across the floor clad in black leather. He is warbling 'Don't be cruel', one of my favourites. He is suprisingly supple for one of reasonably advanced years and reminds me of someone (other than Elvis that is), but can't for the life of me think who. For a while think it is Dick Van Dyke, but eventually realise that bizzarely is Robert Helpmann, who was the child-catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Remark on this to Two, but is lost on him. Pub not over-full, which is a pity, nevertheless Elvis is going through his paces with enormous energy. Sound system is pushing out about a million decibels, and once again Two is Wincing. At the end of his first set Elvis leaves the building, and goes to have fag in garden. (I am also having fag in garden). A good half-an-hour passes and then the Build-Up to his second set begins, with pounding (and I mean POUNDING) music and flashing lights. It builds and builds, until wisps of smoke start materialising from hearing aids, and ear-drums generally approach perforation point. Two wears agonised expression, is shaking head and clutching ears. I advise him to avoid looking at flashing lights in case triggers 'Funny Turn'. Ear-splitting music reaches crescendo and suddenly Elvis bounds into the bar, spectacularly clad in jewel encrusted white satin with obligatory stand-up collar. This is his Las Vegas set,incorporatin much vigorous arm-thrusting and a risky slow descent to the floor with leg out at right-angles. I am intrigued as to how he is going to get up again, but has obviously practised a lot, and rises with control and dignity. He actually has a very good voice and has the mannerisms of EP off to a T. He now starts to sing 'Love me Tender', which I don't think comes from the Las Vegas period, but never mind. He slinks across the bar towards me, ( I am thrilled), glances at Two to ensure he isn't the jealous type (no danger there), and then serenades me, gazing all the while into my heavily mascared eyes. I gaze back, determined to make the most of the moment, then glance at Two, who I regret to say is smirking in a most peculiar way. Ignore this, and give my heart a few pats to indicate to Elvis the fluttering he has induced. He smiles and moves on. Second set ends, and pattern emerges as before, except this time Elvis springs into action wearing red satin suit encrusted with .......etc.etc. I am puzzled as to where is actually springing from, as no door in adjacent bar. Conclude must be changing costume in garden and climbing in through window.
Night ends with self dancing with complete stranger to strains of Teddy Bear, another old favourite. Regretfully find myself making clawing motions with hands and emulating growling during 'don't want to be your tiger, tigers play too rough passage'. Wonder now what must have looked like, but best not to dwell. Tried it out in front of mirror at home, which is a big mistake, so have decided to delete from memory bank.
All in all, fantastic evening. Tomorrow night is Rex and the Foreskins. Apparently highly popular and we are advised to Get There Early in order to find seat.
Social life definitely on Up and Up.
At 8.30 we are ready to go, and once again I am in the vertiginous heels (different pair this time), teamed with (as they say in the fashion mags), white jeans and wrap-around top to hopefully disguise how far my bum has dropped. Not so much 'Does my bum look big in this?' as 'Where has it gone'? Am considering investing in padded knickers to re-create sexy silhouette of yore.
Teeter into pub and immediately encounter Elvis, weaving sinuously across the floor clad in black leather. He is warbling 'Don't be cruel', one of my favourites. He is suprisingly supple for one of reasonably advanced years and reminds me of someone (other than Elvis that is), but can't for the life of me think who. For a while think it is Dick Van Dyke, but eventually realise that bizzarely is Robert Helpmann, who was the child-catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Remark on this to Two, but is lost on him. Pub not over-full, which is a pity, nevertheless Elvis is going through his paces with enormous energy. Sound system is pushing out about a million decibels, and once again Two is Wincing. At the end of his first set Elvis leaves the building, and goes to have fag in garden. (I am also having fag in garden). A good half-an-hour passes and then the Build-Up to his second set begins, with pounding (and I mean POUNDING) music and flashing lights. It builds and builds, until wisps of smoke start materialising from hearing aids, and ear-drums generally approach perforation point. Two wears agonised expression, is shaking head and clutching ears. I advise him to avoid looking at flashing lights in case triggers 'Funny Turn'. Ear-splitting music reaches crescendo and suddenly Elvis bounds into the bar, spectacularly clad in jewel encrusted white satin with obligatory stand-up collar. This is his Las Vegas set,incorporatin much vigorous arm-thrusting and a risky slow descent to the floor with leg out at right-angles. I am intrigued as to how he is going to get up again, but has obviously practised a lot, and rises with control and dignity. He actually has a very good voice and has the mannerisms of EP off to a T. He now starts to sing 'Love me Tender', which I don't think comes from the Las Vegas period, but never mind. He slinks across the bar towards me, ( I am thrilled), glances at Two to ensure he isn't the jealous type (no danger there), and then serenades me, gazing all the while into my heavily mascared eyes. I gaze back, determined to make the most of the moment, then glance at Two, who I regret to say is smirking in a most peculiar way. Ignore this, and give my heart a few pats to indicate to Elvis the fluttering he has induced. He smiles and moves on. Second set ends, and pattern emerges as before, except this time Elvis springs into action wearing red satin suit encrusted with .......etc.etc. I am puzzled as to where is actually springing from, as no door in adjacent bar. Conclude must be changing costume in garden and climbing in through window.
Night ends with self dancing with complete stranger to strains of Teddy Bear, another old favourite. Regretfully find myself making clawing motions with hands and emulating growling during 'don't want to be your tiger, tigers play too rough passage'. Wonder now what must have looked like, but best not to dwell. Tried it out in front of mirror at home, which is a big mistake, so have decided to delete from memory bank.
All in all, fantastic evening. Tomorrow night is Rex and the Foreskins. Apparently highly popular and we are advised to Get There Early in order to find seat.
Social life definitely on Up and Up.
Diary date 14th March 2010
Mothers Day! My brood cannot be with me as they live so far away, but I have received cards, dvd's and a wonderful Pampering Box from my son, full of exquisite bath pearls, shower gel, and even a pair of fluffy slippers! I am a little puzzled by what appears to be a white belt included in the package and spend some time trying to work out what it is. Think it may be to tie round waist in shower and insert various bottles into for easy access, but seems odd. Finally dawns is for ex-foliating skin on back in manner of back scratcher!
Phone my Mum and she is pleased with nightgown, although cannot hear me as hates wearing hearing-aid. Conversation one-way, but sister interprets and Mum says she is writing to me. Sister is cooking her roast duck for lunch!
Don't really want to go out for Mother's Day lunch with Two, as not his mother.
Phone my Mum and she is pleased with nightgown, although cannot hear me as hates wearing hearing-aid. Conversation one-way, but sister interprets and Mum says she is writing to me. Sister is cooking her roast duck for lunch!
Don't really want to go out for Mother's Day lunch with Two, as not his mother.
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Diary date 13th March 2010
Another exciting night in store at pub, because it is a Country and Western singer. I reluctantly decide not to buy stetson and cowboy boots for the occasion, but am still secreting wads of tissues in my bag in event of Very Sad Songs. Once again Two is less than enthusiastic but nevertheless agrees to accompany me. With sense of deja vu I don the vertiginous heels and dig out frock with nice country neckline, i.e. very low indeed. Wish I had Dolly Parton's massive cleavage, but must content myself with Push-Up-Bra. Result is quite impressive valley between breasts, although most is due to Squeezing In Violently and Shoving Up Hard. Pub is nearly empty, which is unusual for Saturday night, and Country Singer proves to be aimiable old codger sporting black satin shirt festooned with guitars. Five of us wait with bated breath for the performance, which once again is abetted by overwhelmingly large sound system, and Two begins to look pained. The Country and Western Star proves to be a stranger to his purported genre, and sings a selection of pop songs whilst plucking ineffectually at his guitar to pounding backing tracks. Still, full marks for persistence, he wanders around, completely at ease, although sadly the expected hoardes fail to materialise. I can see Two wants to go home, but feel we can't leave and reduce the audience by almost half, so we sit it out. At one point the guy (whose name escapes me), plays The Sabre Dance, that well-known Country tune. I thought perhaps he had gone temporarily mad, but he recovers and carries on in same vein as before.
As the evening progresses, a few people drift in and things Liven Up. At midnight a small but jovial group are propping up the bar and singing along. By this time, Mr C & W is going extremely hoarse, but the alcohol fuelled group are shouting for more. It is evident he is on the point of Losing His Voice Completely and he Begs for Mercy. The small and jovial group however are having none of this, and he is forced to creak on. Eventually he informs us that We Are Cruel, sinks onto a chair holding his throat, and That is That. He is obviously close to point of total collapse. Back home I am only grateful that I didn't wear full country gear, as would be completely inappropriate. Retrieve unused tissues from bag and sympathise with Two, who is again shaking his head and complaining of Ringing In the Ears. Suggest utilises tissues to stuff in ears next time. Is Elvis Presley next week.
As the evening progresses, a few people drift in and things Liven Up. At midnight a small but jovial group are propping up the bar and singing along. By this time, Mr C & W is going extremely hoarse, but the alcohol fuelled group are shouting for more. It is evident he is on the point of Losing His Voice Completely and he Begs for Mercy. The small and jovial group however are having none of this, and he is forced to creak on. Eventually he informs us that We Are Cruel, sinks onto a chair holding his throat, and That is That. He is obviously close to point of total collapse. Back home I am only grateful that I didn't wear full country gear, as would be completely inappropriate. Retrieve unused tissues from bag and sympathise with Two, who is again shaking his head and complaining of Ringing In the Ears. Suggest utilises tissues to stuff in ears next time. Is Elvis Presley next week.
Diary date 9th March 2020
Off to local Market Town this morning, which is about ten miles away. This will be an endurance test for Two (The Wily One), being subjected to sitting in passenger seat for that long. One day in the not too distant future I realise that I may have to explain why The Wily One is called The Wily One. I am reluctant to lift the veil on this information, suffice to say, he has caused me a great deal of Heartache in the not too distant past. That is a Big Hint. For the time being, as already stated in earlier blog, Two is my second husband and we have been joined in matrimony for fifteen years. I have three children but Two has no progeny. My son and eldest daughter are both domiciled in different parts of France, and youngest daughter remains in the South East where she lives with The Feckless One.
It dawns on me this morning that I am a living cliche. I actually wake up and smell the coffee, that is to say, I sniff the jar every morning.
I have further concerns about my rapidly ageing body, in particular my arms, which have become ruched. This is never a good look, so I will attempt to Put On Weight, in the hope they will plump out. I must investigate which foodstuffs replenish arms.
We set off in the car, and the journey is accomplished but not without the usual Sharp Intakes of Breath, Winces and Sad Shakes of the Head. All this I ignore, as my primary objective is to purchase a Mother's Day gift for my Mum, who is 94 this April! She lives in a Granny Annexe with my sister in Buckinghamshire, and is still very sharp mentally. She does the Telegraph Crossword every day, and refuses to watch day-time TV until the afternoon. This is admirable, sadly I cannot say the same. I find a pretty nightdress in M & S, and box of sweets to accompany it, then Express Post to ensure it gets there in plenty of time. Can relax now.
It dawns on me this morning that I am a living cliche. I actually wake up and smell the coffee, that is to say, I sniff the jar every morning.
I have further concerns about my rapidly ageing body, in particular my arms, which have become ruched. This is never a good look, so I will attempt to Put On Weight, in the hope they will plump out. I must investigate which foodstuffs replenish arms.
We set off in the car, and the journey is accomplished but not without the usual Sharp Intakes of Breath, Winces and Sad Shakes of the Head. All this I ignore, as my primary objective is to purchase a Mother's Day gift for my Mum, who is 94 this April! She lives in a Granny Annexe with my sister in Buckinghamshire, and is still very sharp mentally. She does the Telegraph Crossword every day, and refuses to watch day-time TV until the afternoon. This is admirable, sadly I cannot say the same. I find a pretty nightdress in M & S, and box of sweets to accompany it, then Express Post to ensure it gets there in plenty of time. Can relax now.
Diary date 8th March 2010
Am still High as a Kite after night at pub, was very life enhancing, especially for one who has been socially bereft for so long! Decide to spend day typing on computer, and end up as usual cursing the vagaries of Word, which seems intent on trying to outwit and enrage me by suddenly changing to capital letters for no apparent reason. Ditto italics or bold. Cannot believe is my fault. Have decided to re-visit my days as performance person, and am going to try and put song written by self and sung by Two, onto YouTube. Hope YouTube not sole preserve of young. Decide to phone daughter-in-law who lives with son near Geneva, as she is whizz on computers, as feel the technology to put song on YouTube may be a tad advanced for moi.
Downstairs mid-afternoon, exhausted and frustrated by Word, and find Two plodding in from outhouse with coal, as fire needed. He looks like a primitive painting which might be called 'Man and Scuttle', and sighs a little, probably recalling days of yore when we had Gas Central Heating and pervading warmth at the twiddle of a thermostat. I watch as he artistically arranges coal and kindling in grate,and by the time he finishes, it almost seems a shame to set fire to it.
Eventually as fire achieves glowing proportions, I stare into it and wistfully recall appearance of Very Elegant Lady at pub on Saturday night. Although I had made an effort, she outshone me and everyone else, simply though effectively dressed as she was in black dress, (as in Little Black Dress), black tights, heels, and all this topped off with an immaculate blonde bob. Gok would be proud. I have decided to christen her Mrs Mateus Rosy, as she sank an entire bottle of said vintage, without appearing to suffer any ill-effects. Difficult to judge her age, but as they say, No Spring Chicken.
At 10 pm youngest daughter rings, and is Back Home From Night in Hotel, (whenever that was), and the feckless one is asleep in spare bedroom. We decide time has come to End Relationship, but again am not holding breath.
Downstairs mid-afternoon, exhausted and frustrated by Word, and find Two plodding in from outhouse with coal, as fire needed. He looks like a primitive painting which might be called 'Man and Scuttle', and sighs a little, probably recalling days of yore when we had Gas Central Heating and pervading warmth at the twiddle of a thermostat. I watch as he artistically arranges coal and kindling in grate,and by the time he finishes, it almost seems a shame to set fire to it.
Eventually as fire achieves glowing proportions, I stare into it and wistfully recall appearance of Very Elegant Lady at pub on Saturday night. Although I had made an effort, she outshone me and everyone else, simply though effectively dressed as she was in black dress, (as in Little Black Dress), black tights, heels, and all this topped off with an immaculate blonde bob. Gok would be proud. I have decided to christen her Mrs Mateus Rosy, as she sank an entire bottle of said vintage, without appearing to suffer any ill-effects. Difficult to judge her age, but as they say, No Spring Chicken.
At 10 pm youngest daughter rings, and is Back Home From Night in Hotel, (whenever that was), and the feckless one is asleep in spare bedroom. We decide time has come to End Relationship, but again am not holding breath.
Monday, 22 March 2010
Diary date 7th March 2010
Nothing to report today as exhausted after Big Night Out. Will recuperate and get back to you, as need to lie down a lot. Also back is hurting following energetic leaping about on dance floor in manner of elderly gazelle. Have suffered bad back since lifting huge plant pot some years ago, so Should Know Better. Two is periodically saying 'pardon?' and shaking his head, so presume has gone deaf.
Diary date 6th March 2020
Great excitment as prepare for Night Out At Pub. Select suitable clothes, (I hope), and totter there in vertiginous heels. The Big Bopper is Setting Up His Gear when we arrive, and then dons a leopard-skin jacket, crepe soled shoes, and swings into action. He performs Chantilly Lace complete with props, i.e. telephone, and the place is in uproar! Is wonderful! It is absolutely heaving with all ages, although mostly IMPS, (Important Mature People). The women are tricked out in their best, chattering, laughing, drinking, dancing, and having a High Old Time. The mood is infectious, and although Two looks a bit glum, I am thoroughly enjoying myself. Very good, extremely tall lady singer is also performing, and at midnight the Joint is Still Jumping! By this time the Big Bopper is sweating freely, but still game. He is indeed a Very Big Bopper, and I find myself worrying about sudden cardiac arrest, and try to recall recussitation techniques learned in previous life as medical secretary. Can't recall exact procedure, so content myself with making up possible obituary in event of sudden calamity. Get as far as, 'Here lies the Big Bopper, He sure came a cropper'. Luckily, The Big Bopper bopped on merrily with no visible signs of distress apart from the need to change leopard-skin jacket for another of similar ilk, but slightly longer. Am lost in admiration at all this, and totter home extremely late, with aching feet as result of leaping about in vertiginous heels. Will sleep in tomorrow. Two says his ears are ringing from sitting in front of the speakers. Next week is Country and Western night, so am thinking of taking big box of tissues as songs invariably sad.
Diary Date 5th March 2010
Draw back curtains revealing sunny but cold day. Can hear Two (The Wily One), snoring blissfully upstairs, interspersed with noises reminiscent of impatient horse. When he comes downstairs, cannot bring myself to inquire as to whether has opened bowels, but absence of zoo-like miasma in bathroom seems to indicate they remain firmly closed.
Discussion ensues as to necessity of purchasing circular stainless steel pedal bin for kitchen. Seems best choice considering miniscule proportions of kitchen. Have been using black bin bag but this is not satisfactory, (or aesthetically pleasing). Two says will need to go Further Afield than local town to find this particular item. I set off alone in search of pedal bin, convinced I will find one locally, and return triumphantly with gleaming stainless steel etc etc. Admit is not circular as specified, but oval proves to be much better fit in confined space. Two suitably impressed as now no need to Go Further Afield. Can report pedal-bin fully operational and feel great sense of achievement.
Whilst out I also collect my much needed new prescription glasses from optician, who informs me while fitting them that I have a narrow head. This worries me, as I now feel must look like Grebe. Have decided to avoid nodding in future to minimise resemblance to Nodding Grebe. The new glasses are varifocals, which are going to take a bit of getting used to. Optician advises me not to trip on way out, as is bad for business. They are also light reactive, so I can look very mysterious and glamorous whilst trotting about. Also good for reading in garden.
Am very much looking forward to tomorrow night, as entertainment at pub sounds promising. The Big Bopper is appearing, not the real one obviously, as you of a similar age to me will remember, he died in the same plane crash as Buddy Holly. Am quite excited about going out, as social life as recorded before, pretty grim. Will report back tomorrow, March 6th.
Discussion ensues as to necessity of purchasing circular stainless steel pedal bin for kitchen. Seems best choice considering miniscule proportions of kitchen. Have been using black bin bag but this is not satisfactory, (or aesthetically pleasing). Two says will need to go Further Afield than local town to find this particular item. I set off alone in search of pedal bin, convinced I will find one locally, and return triumphantly with gleaming stainless steel etc etc. Admit is not circular as specified, but oval proves to be much better fit in confined space. Two suitably impressed as now no need to Go Further Afield. Can report pedal-bin fully operational and feel great sense of achievement.
Whilst out I also collect my much needed new prescription glasses from optician, who informs me while fitting them that I have a narrow head. This worries me, as I now feel must look like Grebe. Have decided to avoid nodding in future to minimise resemblance to Nodding Grebe. The new glasses are varifocals, which are going to take a bit of getting used to. Optician advises me not to trip on way out, as is bad for business. They are also light reactive, so I can look very mysterious and glamorous whilst trotting about. Also good for reading in garden.
Am very much looking forward to tomorrow night, as entertainment at pub sounds promising. The Big Bopper is appearing, not the real one obviously, as you of a similar age to me will remember, he died in the same plane crash as Buddy Holly. Am quite excited about going out, as social life as recorded before, pretty grim. Will report back tomorrow, March 6th.
Saturday, 20 March 2010
Diary date 4th March 2010
Draw curtains to discover un-lamb-like day. Weather forecast predicts Extremely Chilly Wind, and Colder Than Yesterday. However, expedition to Derby still on. New timetable assures there is bus (at completely different stop) at 11.15. We arrive at correct stop in Plenty of Time. Have debate while waiting regarding spelling of word 'installments' in shop window. I say should be 'instalments' and decide to check in dictionary later. Standard of spelling generally quite poor these days.
Bus arrives on time, and we receive tickets from driver emblazoned with acronym OAP. Feel this is not best way to encourage sprightliness and upbeat demeanor. Would prefer something more subtle and respectful, as personally feel OAP has connotations of Doddery and Dribbling. Glance sideways at Two, and note is in fact dribbling, but attribute this probably due to Extremely Chilly Wind. Spend journey thinking up new acronym for senior citizens, and decide IMP sounds much better, as in Important Mature Person, hinting at possible mischeviousness, instead of Doddery and Dribbling. Will put forward suggestion to Powers That Be. Also dream up scheme whereby IMPS wear golden insignia denoting position in society, and is compulsory for young people to salute us.
As we approach outskirts of Derby, am alarmed to read message at bus-stop saying, 'Bleeding from the bottom'. I lean forwards and ascertain rest of message is advertisment for bowel cancer. Well, not advertisment as such, but you know what I mean. Image of Bleeding from Bottom remains uncomfortably uppermost in mind as we finally disembark at Derby. Extremely Chilly Wind much in evidence as passengers alight, eliciting Small Group Gasp, Dribbling and Doddering.
We dive into first shop to escape cold, where I purchase film 'Milk', true story of Harvey Milk the Gay Rights activist, which is reduced to £4. Also CD of Bruce Springsteen reduced to £4. Cannot lurk forever in shop and decide to explore further, although Frozen to the Marrow. Almost immediately we are stopped in our tracks by loud and extremely aggressive expletives from other side of road. Very angry man is haranguing other man, and things look ugly for a moment. Am intimidated by this, and we plunge into MacDonalds in search of hot coffee and cheeseburgers. Is packed, but manage to find seat, and settle down to meal. Am horrified moments later to hear strident female at next table shriek, 'Fight! Fight!' Watch in amazement as entire clientele rush to window to observe fracas in street. Resist temptation to join them, but screw head round and can just make out two female bodies, locked together on the ground, rolling past the window. Can distinctly see hank of hair in one female's hand. No sign of local constabulary, and baying crows stay at window laughing merrily and uttering yelps of encouragement. Am reminded of film 'Gladiator'. Decide to Cut Day Short and return home.
Home, and phone rings. Is youngest daughter struggling with further unreasonable behaviour of boy-friend. She has decided to spend the night in hotel, as Cannot Bear to Go Home. Tell her my opinion, which includes much use of words such as Irresponsible and Feckless, but am eventually accused of Harping On. Back down, assure love, support, and constant vigil at end of telephone if needed. Recover from this and watch Two going through fire-lighting process. He suddenly stops mid-meticulous placement of coal, and confides that his constipation has been going on for two weeks, and myriad remedies have failed to make a difference. I cluck sympathetically, and gently inquire as to whether this means he Hasn't Been for two whole weeks. 'No no', he says, sooty surgical gloves raised in horror. Feel I cannot pursue as do not want to hear gruesome details concerning straining, particles passed etc. Two then glumly relates tale of woman who ran a sweet shop and was an acquaintance of his dad's, who Had'nt Been for two weeks and subsequently died. Find it hard to imagine lady in sweet-shop confiding intimate details of this nature over the aniseed balls, but reassure Two that this is not likely to happen to him.
Meagre supper as food shopping not done in Derby. Scrambled eggs for me, but not good idea for Two in view of Binding. Later watch new film 'Milk' and agree Sean Penn very good in it.
Remember to check spelling of 'instalments' in dictionary. Am gratified to find am not mistaken.
Bus arrives on time, and we receive tickets from driver emblazoned with acronym OAP. Feel this is not best way to encourage sprightliness and upbeat demeanor. Would prefer something more subtle and respectful, as personally feel OAP has connotations of Doddery and Dribbling. Glance sideways at Two, and note is in fact dribbling, but attribute this probably due to Extremely Chilly Wind. Spend journey thinking up new acronym for senior citizens, and decide IMP sounds much better, as in Important Mature Person, hinting at possible mischeviousness, instead of Doddery and Dribbling. Will put forward suggestion to Powers That Be. Also dream up scheme whereby IMPS wear golden insignia denoting position in society, and is compulsory for young people to salute us.
As we approach outskirts of Derby, am alarmed to read message at bus-stop saying, 'Bleeding from the bottom'. I lean forwards and ascertain rest of message is advertisment for bowel cancer. Well, not advertisment as such, but you know what I mean. Image of Bleeding from Bottom remains uncomfortably uppermost in mind as we finally disembark at Derby. Extremely Chilly Wind much in evidence as passengers alight, eliciting Small Group Gasp, Dribbling and Doddering.
We dive into first shop to escape cold, where I purchase film 'Milk', true story of Harvey Milk the Gay Rights activist, which is reduced to £4. Also CD of Bruce Springsteen reduced to £4. Cannot lurk forever in shop and decide to explore further, although Frozen to the Marrow. Almost immediately we are stopped in our tracks by loud and extremely aggressive expletives from other side of road. Very angry man is haranguing other man, and things look ugly for a moment. Am intimidated by this, and we plunge into MacDonalds in search of hot coffee and cheeseburgers. Is packed, but manage to find seat, and settle down to meal. Am horrified moments later to hear strident female at next table shriek, 'Fight! Fight!' Watch in amazement as entire clientele rush to window to observe fracas in street. Resist temptation to join them, but screw head round and can just make out two female bodies, locked together on the ground, rolling past the window. Can distinctly see hank of hair in one female's hand. No sign of local constabulary, and baying crows stay at window laughing merrily and uttering yelps of encouragement. Am reminded of film 'Gladiator'. Decide to Cut Day Short and return home.
Home, and phone rings. Is youngest daughter struggling with further unreasonable behaviour of boy-friend. She has decided to spend the night in hotel, as Cannot Bear to Go Home. Tell her my opinion, which includes much use of words such as Irresponsible and Feckless, but am eventually accused of Harping On. Back down, assure love, support, and constant vigil at end of telephone if needed. Recover from this and watch Two going through fire-lighting process. He suddenly stops mid-meticulous placement of coal, and confides that his constipation has been going on for two weeks, and myriad remedies have failed to make a difference. I cluck sympathetically, and gently inquire as to whether this means he Hasn't Been for two whole weeks. 'No no', he says, sooty surgical gloves raised in horror. Feel I cannot pursue as do not want to hear gruesome details concerning straining, particles passed etc. Two then glumly relates tale of woman who ran a sweet shop and was an acquaintance of his dad's, who Had'nt Been for two weeks and subsequently died. Find it hard to imagine lady in sweet-shop confiding intimate details of this nature over the aniseed balls, but reassure Two that this is not likely to happen to him.
Meagre supper as food shopping not done in Derby. Scrambled eggs for me, but not good idea for Two in view of Binding. Later watch new film 'Milk' and agree Sean Penn very good in it.
Remember to check spelling of 'instalments' in dictionary. Am gratified to find am not mistaken.
Diary date 3rd March 2010
Delighted to find weather still in mode of Lamb, which is excellent because today there is to be An Expedition To Derby. Am showered by 9am and good to go by 10.45, if not exactly hot to trot. Two has been earnestly consulting bus time-table, and announces we shall drive down road, park car, and then catch the 11.20 bus to Derby. Bus passes at ready, (thanks to largesse of Government), we present ourselves at bus-stop and wait. And wait. I start reading time-table at bus-stop, and discover no bus to Derby passes here until late afternoon. Grit teeth as Two informs me is possible his time-table may be out of date. We re-trace our steps to car, Two chortling in infuriating manner at faux pas. It is decided we poodle into Matlock, as already out, nice day, etc.etc. Two is still chortling quietly, but assumes more serious expression as I start engine. Unable to drive due to medical condition, he continually criticises, tuts, and Sucks in Breath Sharply when I drive. As we approach Matlock he clears his throat and says, 'Can I ask a question'? Experience should have dictated I ignore this, and I do, but he goes on anyway. 'Why did you brake to reduce your speed from 40 to 30 when you knew the 30 mph sign was coming up'? This in tone which can be only described as pompous. I am in no position to answer, as am taking evasive action to avoid hitting man opening car door and emerging into traffic. This manoeuvre elicited Sharp Intake of Breath, which I ignore, and continue on and park, (Sad Shake of Head). As he departs for the Pay and Display I fight very real temptation to run him over.
We repair to local hostelry which appears to be frequented mainly by the Halt and Lame, and Two orders me hot chocolate, and for himself coffee and small whisky. Is this unsubtle attempt to convey state of nerves following journey? After calming libation, Two announces he will visit bus-station to obtain new time-table, and adds he needs to visit chemist. Mysteriously declines to enlighten me as to why, but surmise must be new surgical gloves, or possibly valium. Turns out remedy for constipation is needed. Refrain from remarking that my driving should be effective cure. Journey home uneventful, except for Slight Wince as I park.
Decision is made to re-programme visit to Derby for tomorrow. Light fire, eat supper and watch telly.
We repair to local hostelry which appears to be frequented mainly by the Halt and Lame, and Two orders me hot chocolate, and for himself coffee and small whisky. Is this unsubtle attempt to convey state of nerves following journey? After calming libation, Two announces he will visit bus-station to obtain new time-table, and adds he needs to visit chemist. Mysteriously declines to enlighten me as to why, but surmise must be new surgical gloves, or possibly valium. Turns out remedy for constipation is needed. Refrain from remarking that my driving should be effective cure. Journey home uneventful, except for Slight Wince as I park.
Decision is made to re-programme visit to Derby for tomorrow. Light fire, eat supper and watch telly.
2nd March Diary Entry
Up early and note March has indeed come in like lamb. Note to self, see if old adage holds true at end of month. Spend some minutes admiring sun glistening on fields, distant view of grazing sheep etc. but idyll cut cruelly short by faint sound of fart floating downstairs. Decide Fresh Air is order of day, and set off on own to village. We need bread, but end up buying lemon meringue pie, yoghurt, milk, bottle white wine, assorted confectionary and no bread. Discover to my delight new antique shop has opened during the snowbound months, and can't resist quick browse. Try not to gasp in horror at exorbitant prices, but discover box of art deco pipes and cigarette holders. Have great passion for art deco, but regretfully do not possess necessary panache to sport amber cigarette holder outside pub. Also came across North American Peace Pipe, which I am assured is genuine. May be useful at times of marital discord, 'anything Sioux can do' ................etc.
Return home to find Two tweeting in yard. Wonder if he is only man in country, possibly world, tweeting without benefit of computer. He has spotted a bird he is unable to identify, and there is a rush to consult 'Birds of Britain'. He presently announces it must be female blackbird, but has issues with size and colour of beak. I concur, and just then my mobile phone gives forth the mournful bleep indicating the battery is low, so escape upstairs to re-charge. Coming back down after 'Much Faffing About', I find Two has abandoned bird book, and seems keen to impart to me extremely complicated plot of film he watched last night. Half-way through incoherent (to me), explanation, his face suddenly changes and he says 'Oh no', or words to that effect. He is having One of His Turns, which are partial seizures related to his epilepsy. He developed this about five years ago and had two Grand Mal fits which were alarming to say the least. These are controlled by medication now, but he has these partial seizures which happen randomly. His jaw starts moving violently sideways in manner of over-exuberent cow chewing the cud, and his left eyelid bats up and down furiously. Following advice of neurologist I try to ascertain whether he is aware of me. I think he is, but he doesn't answer, and gradually comes back to normal. I write occurrence in diary as required by neurologist.
Day proceeds and by late afternoon temperature has dipped, and we need to light the fire. I have seconded this job to Two after I burned large unsightly hole in carpet, which necessitated purchase of hearth rug to conceal. Two is very efficient and extremely precise in placement of fire-lighters, kindling and coal. He wears surgical gloves for the procedure, a sight I find mildly disturbing. However splendid blaze is finally achieved. Spend evening in front of telly as usual.
Return home to find Two tweeting in yard. Wonder if he is only man in country, possibly world, tweeting without benefit of computer. He has spotted a bird he is unable to identify, and there is a rush to consult 'Birds of Britain'. He presently announces it must be female blackbird, but has issues with size and colour of beak. I concur, and just then my mobile phone gives forth the mournful bleep indicating the battery is low, so escape upstairs to re-charge. Coming back down after 'Much Faffing About', I find Two has abandoned bird book, and seems keen to impart to me extremely complicated plot of film he watched last night. Half-way through incoherent (to me), explanation, his face suddenly changes and he says 'Oh no', or words to that effect. He is having One of His Turns, which are partial seizures related to his epilepsy. He developed this about five years ago and had two Grand Mal fits which were alarming to say the least. These are controlled by medication now, but he has these partial seizures which happen randomly. His jaw starts moving violently sideways in manner of over-exuberent cow chewing the cud, and his left eyelid bats up and down furiously. Following advice of neurologist I try to ascertain whether he is aware of me. I think he is, but he doesn't answer, and gradually comes back to normal. I write occurrence in diary as required by neurologist.
Day proceeds and by late afternoon temperature has dipped, and we need to light the fire. I have seconded this job to Two after I burned large unsightly hole in carpet, which necessitated purchase of hearth rug to conceal. Two is very efficient and extremely precise in placement of fire-lighters, kindling and coal. He wears surgical gloves for the procedure, a sight I find mildly disturbing. However splendid blaze is finally achieved. Spend evening in front of telly as usual.
Friday, 19 March 2010
Diary date 1st March 2010
White Rabbits!
I am embarking on intensive skin-care regime, and if claims of cream are to be believed, skin will regain youthful elasticity in 4 weeks. Because I am Worth It. I am taking this action mostly because I needed new driving licence, which necessitated photograph. Girl in local chemist took photo, and asked me to push fringe out of way. Fringe last bastion of hope, and photo vile. Also not allowed to smile, so now have vile, fringeless old sourpuss photo on driving licence.
Bump into Next-Door-Neighbour whilst having solitary gin and tonic and fag outside pub. Ask if he and his wife would like to come round for drinks one evening. Next-Door-Neighbour looks down at me thoughtfully, he is preposterously tall, about six feet eight. 'We have a lot of demands on our time' he replies. Suitably shrivelled, I look at the ground. 'I am supposed to be retired' he adds loftily. 'We have a lot of demands on our time'. I hadn't expected my invitation to be interpreted as 'A Demand On His Time', so struggle to rally and am about to make craven reply, 'Well, if you find you can squeeze us in', when he relents and addressing the tops of the trees, says, 'Yes, well, it might be nice'. Am not holding my breath, chance of convivial evening seems remote. Two is no use, as he doesn't feel the need for social interaction, apart of course from with the birds. Actually, that hasn't always been strictly true, but again, I must Draw A Veil Over This.
Home, and open dry roasted peanuts and assorted snacks bought for drinks with neighbours. Ditto bottle of gin.
I am embarking on intensive skin-care regime, and if claims of cream are to be believed, skin will regain youthful elasticity in 4 weeks. Because I am Worth It. I am taking this action mostly because I needed new driving licence, which necessitated photograph. Girl in local chemist took photo, and asked me to push fringe out of way. Fringe last bastion of hope, and photo vile. Also not allowed to smile, so now have vile, fringeless old sourpuss photo on driving licence.
Bump into Next-Door-Neighbour whilst having solitary gin and tonic and fag outside pub. Ask if he and his wife would like to come round for drinks one evening. Next-Door-Neighbour looks down at me thoughtfully, he is preposterously tall, about six feet eight. 'We have a lot of demands on our time' he replies. Suitably shrivelled, I look at the ground. 'I am supposed to be retired' he adds loftily. 'We have a lot of demands on our time'. I hadn't expected my invitation to be interpreted as 'A Demand On His Time', so struggle to rally and am about to make craven reply, 'Well, if you find you can squeeze us in', when he relents and addressing the tops of the trees, says, 'Yes, well, it might be nice'. Am not holding my breath, chance of convivial evening seems remote. Two is no use, as he doesn't feel the need for social interaction, apart of course from with the birds. Actually, that hasn't always been strictly true, but again, I must Draw A Veil Over This.
Home, and open dry roasted peanuts and assorted snacks bought for drinks with neighbours. Ditto bottle of gin.
Diary date 28th February 2010
Downstairs at 7.30 am leaving husband (second husband, aka The Wily One, aka Two), snoring under most of the duvet. He gave me a hefty kick in the night, so examine leg for bruise and am surprised (very surprised) not to find one. He bashed me in the back the other night whilst (presumably) asleep. Am wondering if these nocturnal attacks are result of uncontrollable spasms, or vindictive. Also like to record that snoring in night rose to crescendo, culminating in gargantuan snort that nearly propelled both of us out of bed. Mention this to Two, who replies that when I am lying on my back, it is like being next to someone breathing through a drain.
Draw curtains on another grey day, then Two appears, has cup of tea, and disappears into yard, (yard-not garden), to replenish bird-table. Has become very keen on birds recently and informs me he has struck up quite a rapport with a blackbird. He stands inside outhouse door, purses up lips and whistles in (he imagines) manner of blackbird. Bird then whistles back. Is also learning chaffinch and tit I believe. The Farmer Next Door is not happy about the amount of food Two is shovelling onto the bird table, as this will Encourage Rats. Two scoffs at this, and reassures me that there are only field-mice in evidence. I think field-mice are okay, I envisage them swinging endearingly on ears of corn.
There is as usual, no plan for today. This is retirement, you do not need a plan. We watch television and I suggest maybe a lunchtime G & T at the pub, which is a footfall away. This is declined by Two, who is now hunched over his lap-stop studying the horse racing form. This is his Chief Hobby. There were others, but I must Draw a Veil Over These for the time being.
Draw curtains on another grey day, then Two appears, has cup of tea, and disappears into yard, (yard-not garden), to replenish bird-table. Has become very keen on birds recently and informs me he has struck up quite a rapport with a blackbird. He stands inside outhouse door, purses up lips and whistles in (he imagines) manner of blackbird. Bird then whistles back. Is also learning chaffinch and tit I believe. The Farmer Next Door is not happy about the amount of food Two is shovelling onto the bird table, as this will Encourage Rats. Two scoffs at this, and reassures me that there are only field-mice in evidence. I think field-mice are okay, I envisage them swinging endearingly on ears of corn.
There is as usual, no plan for today. This is retirement, you do not need a plan. We watch television and I suggest maybe a lunchtime G & T at the pub, which is a footfall away. This is declined by Two, who is now hunched over his lap-stop studying the horse racing form. This is his Chief Hobby. There were others, but I must Draw a Veil Over These for the time being.
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