tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60712102360502613142024-02-19T13:03:30.304+00:00Random Pearls Of WisdomRandom Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-67011007361145044362014-11-29T11:01:00.000+00:002014-11-29T11:04:35.855+00:00Party SeasonMy Blog has sat dormant for a long time, in fact it's been 1 year and 8months since I last posted.<br />
I really lost the will to write anything and to be honest after a period of realisation that there are so many people out there writing and so little traffic or people visiting, I just thought what's the point.<br />
<br />
For some random reason I thought I'd log in and was surprised to see a reasonable amount of traffic and a bit of a surge in visitors over the last couple of months. This is no doubt down to increasing numbers of bots and spam traffic but nevertheless it did make me wonder whether anyone new had discovered my random ramblings.<br />
<br />
When I read back some of my old posts, I still find myself chuckling away and think the pieces are quiet well written and flow well. I'm glad I've captured tales such as <a href="http://forty-not-out.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/blueberry-smoothie-incident.html" target="_blank">The Blueberry Smoothie Incident</a> and others as although I have fading memories of this event - the post takes me right back to the evening in question and helps me remember my kids when they were younger and the usual ensuing chaos we face as a family.<br />
<br />
My daughter is now heading towards 15 years old, and today starts her first part-time job as an assistant at children's birthday parties. She's really looking forward to dressing up as a fairy and assisting the other characters - this is the equivalent of having to make the coffee, as you have to work your way up until you become the star Princess attraction.<br />
<br />
This reminded me so much of her own younger years where she was always dressing up and would spend all her days in her pink princess castle as the cutest 6 year old ever. Of course that's the twinkly memories, the fact she was also a little brat who had the biggest tantrums I've ever seen also rears it's ugly head.... But it is amazing how that thought is suppressed as time passes and the rose tinted spectacles make it seem so much more angelic.<br />
<br />
I still recall her fifth birthday party which was a complete disaster with the party games. You know if you are honest, you usually try and fix it so your own child at least wins one game at their own party - well on this occasion it all went pear shaped. She won nothing, and as the games progressed her bottom lip trembled and the tears flooded down her face. It culminated in a diva-esque performance of the highest calibre.<br />
<br />
As a parent who likes to at least seek some revenge for these moments of scarring I've had to endure - I kindly reminded her of this performance as I wished her luck heading out of the door to her first children's party. Hope it goes well, I said. Let's hope you can handle the tantrums - to which she replied, yeah no problem Dad - I wrote the book on them, remember!<br />
<br />
Don't I just. Good luck my little Princess x<br />
<br />Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-27729677889543520062013-03-11T15:24:00.001+00:002013-03-11T15:24:49.954+00:00Go-Compare<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Isn’t it nice to see some daylight at the start and end of the day!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I can emerge from my grumpy, vitamin D lacking winter hibernation and look forward to another glorious summer….. Can’t I?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Last year’s blind optimism ended pretty quickly when after a couple of unseasonal high temperature weekends in March….it then rained for about five months solid.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I had no sooner dusted off my Barbeque, shorts and straw trilby and the cats and dogs started falling out of the sky. My garden was ruined, although to be fair that wasn’t actually helped by the real dog using my beautiful lawn as a toilet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">In fact the place now looks like a quagmire where acidic puppy pee killed spots of grass which have turned into clumps of mud and now have the churned appearance of a ploughed field. No thanks in part to her hundred miles per hour running round and round in circles, with cartoon slipping feet when she is told to “come here” and consistently disobeys every command. It really is only a matter of time before I resort to rugby tackling her. However, I suspect this would end up with me face down in the mud and the dog triumphantly doing another lap of honour while barking the doggy version of “one nil to the Labrador”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">In other news, my Pet Insurance, Car Insurance and House Insurance have all increased to the point where I must be single handily funding the industry recovery. Combined with life insurance, health insurance and gas boiler insurance I was beginning to wonder if there could possibly be any more insurance out there. ……Then I got our travel insurance renewal form through along with the AA breakdown insurance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">On the subject of increased payments – my electricity direct debit just went up to £80 a month. It is incredible. I swear to god it was £19.50 in 2003. I’m not even joking – and yes I do have copies of every previous bill from 1994 onwards. You never know when you’ll need them. In fact I might start burning them to save some electricity of an evening. What could go wrong? – I’ve got house insurance anyway, right?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">It did also get me thinking about renewable energy. If only I could harness the raw power of Labrador! I’m thinking giant size hamster wheel with a bone on a piece of string just out of reach. Hook it all up to a drive wheel and I could sell megawatts back to the national grid. (I’ve checked my Pet insurance – there is nothing to say this isn’t covered)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">My idea could be franchised. Households up and down the country, nay….the world could benefit from my ingenuity. Hang on; my wife’s just said she’ll kill me if I even think about it. I think she’s also just checked my Life Insurance policy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Ah, now there’s an idea – why doesn’t someone market Divorce Insurance?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-82113445032074627952013-01-12T14:25:00.001+00:002013-01-12T14:25:41.438+00:00Poetic Interlude
I blog about my family and how much life can suck,<br />
I poke fun at myself and how I’m such a schmuck,<br />
I daydream of escaping and that sometimes gives me hope,<br />
I blame the stress of parenting (start of the slippery
slope)<br />
<br />
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Not getting any younger, but convinced I’m still a looker,</div>
I strut my stuff in Asda like a middle-aged old hooker,<br />
Catching the eye of the checkout girls, they get my full
attention <br />
The problem is they’re far too young, or heading for their
pension.<br />
<br />
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Except the girl in the bakery, who always has a laugh</div>
She’s got great buns and perfect baps and a whole loaf or a
half.<br />
Of course I am a married man and wouldn’t dream of cheating,<br />
Besides my wife has a rolling pin for flirty husband
beating.<br />
<br />
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I don’t get out much these days, there’s no escape for me</div>
Except to walk the bloody dog as soon as I’ve had my tea<br />
It’s always cold and miserable and usually it’s raining,<br />
We have a dog who misbehaves, despite its blooming training.<br />
<br />
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I guess it’s just delinquency or perhaps a bit resistant</div>
So fits right in to our bizarre dysfunctional existence.<br />
With <st1:stockticker>ASD</st1:stockticker> and OCD and
other weird afflictions<br />
Specialist schools, psychologists and enforced life
restrictions<br />
<br />
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We struggle on from day to day despite strange looks from
others</div>
The judgemental masses, ignorant or plain rude mother
f***ers<br />
Yes, we are the ones whose child is kicking out and
screaming<br />
I’m sorry if this affects your life so perfect and so
gleaming<br />
<br />
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You see our son has Autism and thinks in different ways</div>
Changes and sensory overload bother him most days<br />
A meltdown means that he has reached a point of no return<br />
He’s not misbehaving, naughty or kicking off for fun<br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
Family life is stressful for everyone at times,<br />
It can seem like a sentence worse than that for crimes<br />
Take solace with some laughter and see the funny side<br />
And a healthy doze of wine or rum helps to stem the tide<br />
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-46464266240020402692012-12-12T14:30:00.003+00:002012-12-12T14:30:58.076+00:00Not The End of The World<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
12/12/12 – Had to write a blog post today if only because of
the strange date. If only I had thought about it earlier I should have taken a
photo at twelve minutes and twelve seconds past twelve and then it could have
been 12:12:12 12/12/12</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Enough of this inane numerology, who cares anyway,
especially if the world ends as predicted by the Mayans on the 21<sup>st</sup> .
I just hope if Armageddon does occur, that it’s after my works Christmas lunch,
otherwise I could have saved myself £30 !</div>
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<br /></div>
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More significantly it’s only fourteen days til the big day
itself. Yeah that’s right I said fourteen, I know for the rest of us it’s only
thirteen but my other half has a birthday on Boxing Day and boy does she have a
chip on her shoulder about it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is only one thing worse than getting a combined
present and that’s getting a combined card. I did once actually buy a Happy
Xmas / Birthday combo card for a joke early on in our relationship and I’m
still getting pelters for it now.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So while everyone else chills out on Boxing Day and looks
forward to doing very little, I will be hearing the same old sob story of how
we never do anything special on her birthday, blah blah blah. Either that or
I’ll be getting dragged around every single shop in town looking for a bargain
in the sales, which will ultimately result in her conclusion that nothing in
the sale is what she really wants, followed by another treck round all the
shops again looking at the non-sale items. This is why Boxing Day is so called,
as couples everywhere end up in a mass brawl usually starting around 2.15pm.</div>
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<br /></div>
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This is only slightly more preferable to full Armageddon.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Anyway, in other news, two of my presents for the kids that
were ordered in good time online are now reported as out of stock and unlikely
to be delivered until mid January. You can apologise all you like Mr internet
based company spokesman, but they are no bloody use to me on the 17<sup>th</sup>
January, so take your order and stuff it where the sun don’t shine. Grrr.</div>
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<br /></div>
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After embarrassing myself with a massive alcohol shopping trip
last year, where the checkout girl gave me a direct referral to alcoholics
anonymous, I am now opting for a different strategy. Instead of filling my
trolley until it exceeds its weight limit, every other day, I am stopping off
and picking up a little here and there. This was going great until I realised
the same woman on the self service til has taken the security tags of
individual bottles of Rum, Whisky and Vodka in the last five days. I can tell
she’s now secretly judging me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Incidentally, I must confess to necking a good chunk of the
rum already which is always the danger when turning your kitchen worktop into a
bar for the upcoming festive season. Cheers. Eat, drink and be merry !</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-41346559150128182152012-11-27T14:42:00.002+00:002012-11-27T14:42:40.536+00:00Car Share<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve spent the last 20 years driving to work on my own,
until I recently offered a lift to a colleague who’s just moved in to the next
street. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Well, I couldn’t just head off to work every day while
watching them standing in the pissing rain by the bus stop or leave the office
with a jovial “cheerio” knowing full well it would take them three times as
long to get home.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now I have inadvertently found myself sharing my personal
time and space while trying to ensure I don’t make any etiquette faux-pas. This
also has its drawbacks.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have to make polite conversation. I don’t want to make
polite conversation at 7am, even with my own family. Silence is very
uncomfortable in a car with a relative stranger.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I can no longer sing along to the Radio at the top of my
(very poor) voice, although I did find myself almost bursting into the chorus
of Florence and The Machine this morning, before hurriedly muting myself.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I, like many other drivers sometimes pick my nose. It is a
disgusting habit, I know. But who was I offending before – no-one. Now I have
to be sure that little scratch of my nose, doesn’t lead to a wayward digit
entering my nasal cavity.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In the mornings, I may be partial to occasionally breaking
wind. In my own little environment, it would only be me suffering from last
nights chile con carne. Now if I feel something brewing, I have to hold it in for 30 minutes.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have also found my morning commuting time very useful for
running through scenarios in my head, talking to myself and orating examples of
how I would introduce meetings etc. Now I will arrive for morning meetings
unprepared or without my usually polished and pre-planned quick witted ripostes to the
bosses demands.</div>
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<br /></div>
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On the return journey I quite often called my wife via the
built in blue tooth system, to check if milk or bread was required on the way
home. However, I’m very wary of this now as to be honest there have been occasions
where cross words may have been exchanged. Can you imagine my passengers
thoughts if on phoning home my wife starts ranting at me for leaving my boxer
shorts lying in the bathroom or has a hissy fit about the fact I’m running
late?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I like my music. I have good if not eclectic taste but
appreciate that not everyone may share my passions. Do I just play Echo and The
Bunnymen’s complete back catalogue all week regardless?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this point, I should also probably confess to being
particularly aggravated by others bad driving which usually results in me
swearing at the dickhead doing twenty miles an hour in front of me to hurry the
f*** up. Do I just enrol in an anger management course now – or buy one of
those car machine gun accessory buttons to reduce my use of expletives?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could be at risk of being misconstrued as a nose picking,
foul mouthed, unsociable, wife hating, bad tempered bloke who farts, talks to
himself and listens to thirty year old music.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Shit....Was that the sound of a penny dropping?</div>
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<br /></div>
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By the way it’s only day three of the car share. Wish me luck!</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-42049635756660775792012-11-06T18:48:00.000+00:002012-11-06T18:48:33.341+00:00The Third Degree<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><a href="http://adventuresofamiddle-agedmatron.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">@ageingmatron</a> - The intriguing writer and vicar’s wife has
tagged me to take part in a Q&A session. As always, I am happy to oblige.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Where do you do most of your writing / blogging?</strong></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Well, to be honest I am writing this at work. Now I know I
shouldn’t be, but in my defence the defective network drive is down...<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">again.
</i></b>So technically it’s the ICT department’s fault that I have resorted to skiving.
That, plus<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i></b>I’ve also already spent half the day on the internet. At least
this way people think I’m busy knocking up the latest business strategy. I may
even make a random pie chart on my other screen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>What books were your childhood favourite?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I recall reading all of Enid Blyton’s twenty odd famous five
books and somehow wishing my council estate had fields, gypsy caravans and
lashings of ginger beer instead of concrete, a vandalised swing park and
diluting Ki-Ora.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The Lord of The Rings also provided a fantastic backdrop of
escapism with almost the same level of hideous creatures and villains that
roamed the estate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Who is your favourite fictional character?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">The name’sh Bond... Jamesh Bond. Anyone who has the
magnetism to attract Honey, Pussy and other exotically named women, gets to
drive an Aston Martin, drink Vodka Martini’s and travel the world while dressed
in a nice suit really has it all.</span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Have you ever googled yourself and been surprised at what
you’ve found?</strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Well because I write under a nom-de-plume, this doesn’t
really apply. I could divulge my true identity, but then I’d probably have to
kill you – or wrap you naked in a fur coat and exchange espionage tips if you
are a female Russian counterpart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>What is your favourite time of day and why?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Without a shadow of a doubt it is 3pm (or 2.30pm if I can
get away with it) on a Friday as I turn up the stereo and zoom out of the
office car park. Still living for the weekend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Who would play me in a movie of my life?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Tom Cruise...however I would insist he wore heels, not that
I’m a transvestite but I want to ensure my 5ft 10” is not undermined in any
way. Actually he might not be too happy at being directed by me to stand up
straight, but he’d be on the short list.</span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>One material possession I could not live without?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Tech is so indispensable these days, my smart phone is so
important whether it’s to interact on social media or listen to my favourite
tunes on the go. I’m not saying I couldn’t live without it. I could. In fact I
would be happy leading a simple life, back to nature so to speak.....but there
had better be a bloody good wi-fi signal.</span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Have you ever been naked in public?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Think I fessed up to being drunk and naked in an earlier
blog post, only to be relieved I hadn’t actually been running up and down the
street, like my “friends” had pretended for a few days afterwards.</span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>What is your dream car?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">This has changed as I’ve aged. It used to be a Ferrari. Then
it was a Porsche. Then an Aston Martin. Due to the current economic downturn,
it’s now anything that runs on chip fat, is cheap to insure and doesn’t have
holes in the floor. So, I guess I’ll stick with my Mondeo until the recession
is over, then I want a Buggatti Veyron.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>What/Who/where was your first proper kiss?</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Apart from snogging my own arm....go on admit it, you did
the same. I actually started pretty early and remember full tongues and
everything with a girl in Primary 7 after the school disco. In the words of the
verve “She knew my feelings were jangled and frayed, she took me into a wind
blown alley way, she showed me a world a boy should see, I’ll thank her till
the day I die”</span><br />
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-36389131595075197932012-11-01T14:46:00.000+00:002012-11-01T14:46:05.454+00:00Treat or Trick<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had my first ‘festive’ turkey lunch today (1<sup>st</sup>
November)....wonder how many I will manage between now and actual proper Christmas
dinner. God it really is starting earlier every year. The hollowed out pumpkins
haven’t even decomposed to mush yet.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Speaking of which or should that be witch. Halloween came
and went without too much incident. Daughter dressed up as a blood soaked bride
and went around with a deranged look that can only be described as a cross
between Jack Nicholson in The Shining and a zombie. I think she’s setting her
stall out early for future husband persecution, probably aided and abetted by
my other half’s leading example.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Son, being typically autistic, did not want to dress up in
any ‘normal’ outfit and bizarrely designed his own costume which consisted of a
plain black helmet, a plain back chest plate and a sword. While you have to
admire this creativity, I have no idea what any of the neighbours thought he
was dressed as and am only grateful that my aforementioned wife had to craft
this creation from nothing more than cardboard, paper-mache and black paint to
his exacting standards. This is doubly difficult when you consider many of these
images and specifications are pictured absolutely clearly in his head and can
be misinterpreted and cause meltdowns of epic proportions because the back of
the helmet is two inches longer than it was supposed to be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought I had escaped any involvement, only to be told he
was expecting a Minecraft pumpkin to be carved. This sent shivers down my
spine. How many times would I have to try to get it as he wanted? Would it even
be possible to carve some extravagant creation with my limited kitchen knife
set and power drill? Luckily for me a Minecraft Creeper is a very simple block
character shape, so disaster was averted once again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As my own brood left for their trick or treating expedition.
I was left to dish out the sweets to the masses of little spooks, ghouls and
witches arriving at our door, while trying to control our monster Labrador from
going berserk every time the bell went. Still, at least I got to stuff my face
with Haribos and mini bounty bars.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After listening to the usual Halloween based jokes and
pretending to laugh, one eight year old completely surprised me when I asked if
they had a joke to tell.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes”. “Why do Squirrels swim on their backs?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Err, I don’t know.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“To keep their nuts dry”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tonight it’s back to IKEA assembly following six weeks
waiting for a blooming carpet to arrive. No rest for the wicked.</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-19191525831897772562012-10-12T09:41:00.002+01:002012-10-12T10:10:40.057+01:00Changing Rooms 2<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Decorating....again. I bet you’re sensing my state of
ecstatic enthusiasm ?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This time it’s my Son’s bedroom. On the face of it this
should be relatively straightforward, but with consideration of his autistic
behaviours is a minefield because of the changes and upheaval.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Changes in his routine, changes in the colour of the walls
and the carpet, changes in the furniture and to his room layout. Changes in his
Dad’s normally mild mannered behaviour (well ok, scratch the last one).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Decorating = Expense + Hassle x Stress</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Presenting your ASD child with a paint chart that has an
inordinate amount of colours to pick from is putting them under increased
pressure straight away. It overloads them with information and makes choice
selection incredibly difficult.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s also a danger that they will home in on one colour
that isn’t really suitable and no amount of persuasion will make them change
their minds. I was dreading him choosing bright pink or battleship grey. As
much as I want him to be happy, the thought of painting a ten year old boy’s
room in “Fuchsia” just doesn’t sit comfortably with me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, following some discussion. Well, ok, after about two
weeks of tentative negotiations that Ban Ki-Moon would have been pleased with,
he ‘chose’ a dark teal blue. Only he wanted the whole room painted in it. A
further two weeks of persuasion.... and some begging, managed to convince him
that one dark wall and three lighter would be better.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Repeat for Carpet, Furniture and Bedding and trying to
ensure that the colours suited each other, I’m sure you can appreciate the
difficulties. This is only compounded further by his tendency to change his
mind at various points in the process.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So it was all agreed, and I must paint this weekend as the new
carpet is scheduled for next Friday. (I’m not allowed to paint after the new
carpet gets installed....let’s just say I have ‘previous’)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was in the DIY store on Sunday and noted there was plenty
paint and so didn’t bother picking any up. Instead I nipped in past work yesterday,
and initially panicked as they didn’t seem to have any of the teal colour. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A bit
of further investigation and I noticed one single tin right at the back of the
shelf.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I leaned in with one arm, stretched right to the back and as
I removed this last solitary tin of paint with some relief and satisfaction......
I dropped the bloody thing and it burst all over the floor. I am now standing
in Homebase with one teal blue shoe and half a paint splattered trouser leg.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I stared at my beloved expensive Chelsea boots I only
bought last month and a paint blob ran down my other trouser leg, my other
overriding concern was that I really needed this paint.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I headed for the customer toilet, leaving a trail of
footprints that even the apprentice CSI officer wouldn’t have any trouble spotting,
only to find there were no tissues or
paper towel in the gents or the disabled toilet either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meanwhile, a helpful assistant confirmed there was no paint
in stock and to try middle of next week.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had to then drive another ten miles
to the nearest B and Q in hope and desperation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Luckily they had some. I did get some funny looks though; I
must have seemed like the best dressed painter and decorator in town, what with
my one blue shoe and splattered effect pinstripe trousers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe I should have opened up my shirt sleeves and pretended
I was Laurence Llewelyn Bowen?</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-42190136088398570422012-10-02T14:08:00.001+01:002012-10-02T14:08:40.597+01:00Time to Hibernate<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Autumn is officially here. What’s that you ask? How can I be
sure?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, apart from the darker nights and leaves blowing
everywhere, I’ve started cooking comfort food again. In the same way some weather
forecasters predict apocalyptic winters because the cows are sitting in the
lower field or the red berries are appearing early, my craving for stews,
roasts, red wine and cakes can only mean we are heading for the depths of a
bleak, cold winter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not content with a hunk of roast beef and half a tray of
Yorkshire puddings to myself last Sunday, I moved on to beef olives and mince
and tatties this week too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once, the braised steak comes out – it’s officially time to
put the patio furniture away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As part of my own Autumn lent, I also decided to use up all
the eggs and flour that were sitting around and made some rock cakes with my daughter
at the weekend. Despite my best efforts – they didn’t look anything like rock
cakes and splodged out on the baking tray, resulting in one kind of big joined
up flat mess. Once prised apart, they were remarkably tasty however and as if
to prove a point – I made a second batch, determined to show my daughter what
went wrong. Result was a second tray of splodged out cake mix. At least I’m
consistent.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My Son also arrived on scene and proceeded to complain that
he didn’t like them because I had added coconut and then insisted he wanted a
fairy cake. I explained we hadn’t made them, but once he gets it into his head
there is no changing his mind. So a batch of fairy cakes was whipped up and came
out okay. Even I can cope with equal quantity recipes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, the appearance of Nigella on TV has further ignited my
cooking passion. Her descriptions of creamy peaks, while standing with her
chest sticking out is clearly the stuff of legend. If you can get past how
perfect her life must be, she does have some quick and easy recipes – none such
more as her latest coffee ice-cream which when served up in a brioche bun sounds
like it could be my favourite sandwich of all time. (Excluding my head in her
cleavage)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Further proof if any should be needed that Winter is coming
is the appearance of the Next Christmas book....and what parents of primary school
age children haven’t already ordered their cards from Studio?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just to further reinforce how close we are to hearing Jingle
Bells being sung at school carol concerts, the X-Factor run in has begun.
Remember this programme exists primarily <s>to make a vast amount of money for
Simon Cowell et al</s> to provide us with the Xmas number one.</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-10231913771860867552012-09-23T16:04:00.000+01:002012-09-23T16:04:13.347+01:00Three Wheels on My Wagon
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I think I might have
a flat tyre,”</i> announced my other half.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Well you either have or you haven’t…it’s a bit like being
pregnant really, there’s no in-between.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Ok then, I have a
flat tyre”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Did anything happen that contributed to this flat tyre?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Well, I might have
driven over a concrete island thing in the car park”.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Err,…don’t mean to sound repetitive here…. but either you
did drive over something or you didn’t?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Ok then, I drove over
a concrete kerb thingy in the car park”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Would that be the concrete delineator that you are not
supposed to drive over then?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Yes, that’ll be it”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
How did you manage to drive over something that is supposed
to separate the lanes?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Well, it kind of just
jumped out at me and before I knew it the back wheel of the car had clattered
it”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Was this like a major bang, or just a scuff?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Oh, it was just a
scuff really”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
(Inspection of tyre in driveway now points to a gaping hole
in the sidewall of the tyre.)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
This “scuff”… it must have been a hell of a scuff to
puncture the side of the tyre.</div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Well, now you mention
it… the car did bounce off the edge quite firmly”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Did you think about stopping to inspect for any damage or
anything?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Yeah, I just took a
look once I got home”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
So, that’s fifteen miles on a flat as a pancake tyre and you
never noticed anything was wrong?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Stop picking on me…you
always blame me for everything, it’s not my fault”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
No, never is…just like the time you reversed into that
parked car.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“You always bring that
up; it wasn’t my fault someone parked behind me”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
(Thinks to myself, God give me strength)..Ok, who was
driving the car?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“That doesn’t matter,
if it had been you it would have been a different story”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Yes dear, that’s correct. I wouldn’t have driven over the
bloody concrete divider in the car park. If I had made a (very rare) error of
judgment, I would have stopped had a look at the tyre and possibly taken it to
the tyre service centre which is about 200 yards from the mall car park…….And,
by the way before you move off you are supposed to check your mirrors to see if
anyone has parked behind you.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“That was years ago”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Ok, fair point. What about the alloy wheel you buckled last year
that cost me £175 to replace?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“That wasn’t my fault
either, there was a pothole”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
You don’t <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">have</i></b> to drive through them at high
speed though.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I was not going fast”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
That’s right dear, the wheel just buckled itself. You do know
in over twenty years of driving I have never ruined a wheel.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Oh here we go; Mr
Perfect doesn’t ever make mistakes”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
That’s not the point.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Just change my tyre
please”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Thirty minutes later, oil stained jeans, grease covered
hands, scuffed knuckles, red faced and slightly embarrassed, as I couldn’t get
the wheel off…. I am driving fifteen miles on a flat tyre back to the mall tyre
service centre. “That’ll be £114.99 please sir and you might want to get that
alloy checked out, looks like you may have damaged the edge driving it on the
flat tyre – did you not think to put the spare on?”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Arrrrrrggggghhhhhh.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-64429968998448568902012-09-14T10:48:00.003+01:002012-09-14T12:27:45.943+01:00Warning !Last week I went shopping and bought some celery. Its okay,
I’m not a celery-holic or anything like that; it was just a routine purchase. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
On the back of the pack was a helpful Allergy Information
Warning, which read “Contains Celery”.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Now, I’m all for providing valid information to those
unfortunates in society who need reminding that their coffee may be hot, or those
products with nuts in them may contain nuts, but this is surely taking the
piss. What else could celery possibly contain?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I think warnings like these are missing a trick here. It’s
not what is blindingly obvious we need to be told but the hidden less obvious
consequences. Such as</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
“Using this condom incorrectly may result in at least 16
years of parental responsibility costing approx £200,000, two and a half years
of very little sleep, projectile vomit on your once prized designer shirt and
will change your sexy, vivacious, horny partner into a rabid foaming at the
mouth, frigid wreck who will consequently blame you for everything for the rest
of your life.”</div>
<br />
“You may have used this scalpel sharp; five bladed razor
successfully for the last three weeks without incident, but you will slash yourself
deeply before today’s job interview/important meeting/wedding and spend the
rest of the morning with half a toilet roll stuck to your lower chin”<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
“Monopoly may result in one player taking everything far too
seriously, following the rules to the letter and tipping the board upside down
in an explosion of rage prior to screaming they hate you and filing for divorce
(especially on Christmas day after a glass of wine) Play responsibly”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
“While this automobile has been provided with indicators on
each corner to assist other road users in understanding your intended direction
at roundabouts, if you are a spotty face jumped up young executive and choose
not to use them, you may be bludgeoned to death in a road rage incident”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
“While Sky Bet claims to be a fair gambling organisation,
you will at one point have pocket aces, throw all your money in the pot only to
lose to someone who wins the hand with three 2’s following the River Card
miraculously favouring the other player. Either that or you will be surprised
to learn that 11 even numbers will come out in a row, thus defying probability
when you have just doubled your stake repeatedly on the appearance of an odd
number in Roulette”</div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I think if I had known all of these things, my week may have
been a little easier.</div>
What helpful warnings would have assisted you?Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-57228870539848032892012-08-28T14:04:00.003+01:002012-08-28T14:04:41.837+01:00The tooth, the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, I couldn’t resist after my last post title and two
trips to the dentist this week, could I?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My avoidance of <s>masochists</s>, I mean dentists started
many years ago when I was unlucky to have a flat above a dental surgery. I’m
not sure whether he was actually a serial killer or not, but the screams coming
from the chair were almost as bad as the last time I was in a maternity unit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As if that wasn’t bad enough, there was a workshop down in
the basement where he made all his false teeth moulds. Having sneaked into it
one day, my flat mate and I were not only horrified at the various paraphernalia
but the overall hygiene of the place was horrifying. Cue my avoidance of any
dental appointments for the next several years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, when I became a parent we had to register our
daughter for a dentist and due to NHS shortages this ended up being at a
private practice, where they agreed to treat the children as NHS patients if
the parents registered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Following an initial examination where he commented things
didn’t look too bad, a couple of x-rays later had him shaking his head and taking
sharp intakes of breath like a greedy car mechanic trying to rip off a
customer. The conclusion – eight fillings in various places over a six week
period of appointments and a £350 dental bill. Oh, and a tendency to set off
metal detectors.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That was about ten years ago, and I have continued to go
along for regular appointments ever since. It goes okay for one or two, and
then he must think that he hasn’t had any money out of me for a while and finds
something that needs replacing. Even, when I protest that he did the work so it
shouldn’t need redone, he just smiles and secretly imagines the pound signs and
his next holiday to Barbados.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This last visit, I made the mistake of telling him I now had
private dental care. A cash cow if ever there was one for dentistry. Oh, well
he says rubbing his hands.....it has been some time since we had full x-rays
done. Again, cue head shaking, umming, ahhing and a couple of problems with
existing fillings come to light. After waving an x-ray in front of me and
convincing me that two teeth needed doing, I turned up for the first
appointment last Monday.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This tooth has given me no trouble at all, but following an uncomfortable
half hour of drilling, poking, clamping and sticking that bloody cotton wool
tampon like tubes in my mouth – I’m free to go. The result,.... I have had
nothing but pain from the tooth all blooming week, it’s very sensitive to cold
/ hot, although and he assures me it will settle down soon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Second trip to the dentist yesterday to finish off another
miserable Monday and after hacking about at me for what felt like hours, he announces
that if this doesn’t work then root canal treatment may be required. I had
hoped it wasn’t trial and error on his part by this time, especially since he’d
just drilled out the previous blooming filling. At least this one isn’t hurting
the same.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I left the surgery, I overheard someone trying to book an
appointment only to be told the dentist was on holiday for three weeks in
September. Looks like he was topping up his beer money again.</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-85469352364126701472012-08-24T19:27:00.003+01:002012-08-24T19:27:40.275+01:00The woof, the whole woof and nothing but the woof
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
While chatting on Twitter last week, two of my fellow
Tweeters mentioned they were thinking about getting a dog. A <st1:place>Labrador</st1:place>
in fact.</div>
They are no doubt used to my inane tweets about having to
walk the dog, it chasing the cat, licking my feet or inflicting pain in my gentleman’s
area with its blooming massive heavy paws !<br />
<br />
As I’m now clearly an expert in dog ownership and it’s a big
decision to make, they even asked for my balanced opinion on the matter. Of
course, the question of impartiality raises some conflicts of interest on my
part bearing in mind my previous pre-dog owning post<a href="http://forty-not-out.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/walkies.html" target="_blank">"Walkies"</a> and <a href="http://forty-not-out.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/ok-so-shes-bit-of-dog.html" target="_blank">"Ok so she's a bit of a dog"</a><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Reading those back now, I could be forgiven for being a
little pessimistic about the joys of dog ownership. Funny, the joys of
parenting are another closely drawn parallel….</div>
<br />
Anyway, most of my Nostradamus style apocalyptic predictions
actually did come to pass – so I wasn’t completely barking, if you pardon the
pun.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
It does cost a lot of money to own a dog, the ongoing food
bills, worming, vaccinations, insurance all adds up….and that’s before the
chewed skirting boards, plasterboard, pee-ruined rug, chewed phone cables and
garden destruction!!! Oh, and the trip to the vet for stitches when she was bit
by another dog before we had the insurance.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
We also seem to have acquired not only the most expensive
bitch in the litter, but also the most hyperactive, excitable, sees-another-dog-and-goes-berserk
<st1:place>Labrador</st1:place> out there. Walking her is very difficult, at
times embarrassing, especially when all the other dog owners look at you as if
your one is the naughty kid in school. However, we are used to that with
actually already having the child with <st1:stockticker>ASD</st1:stockticker>
that everyone thinks is uncontrollable anyway, so perhaps the dog fits right
in.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
In all seriousness, I’m told that Lab’s generally are a bit
mental until they are a couple of years old and apparently settle down into
very steady pets…. or was that one of my wife’s other assurances. Hmmmm?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
There are some positives (I’m told). Our autistic son loves
the dog and has great interaction with it. She helps to get him out of the
house and away from his computer. My wife says this works for her too and she
has enjoyed having something else to do through the day. Although it has almost
continually pissed down with rain this year – so you need to add waterproofs
and wellies to your expenditure plan.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
For me, I don’t really mind the dog….. but I do mind the
commitment. I guess I didn’t really want to be saddled with the responsibility
of having another weight round my neck. It is a big decision, especially if you
have time constraints and as the age old saying goes…dogs are for life… a bit like
kids and we know how much they don’t come with adequate small print. However,
it doesn’t stop us having them, so I guess it should be the same for dogs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Of course, being a lazy git, I always found the cat great to look after. You don't have to walk cats !</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Anyway, as far as my balanced opinion goes.........Personally, anyone considering a dog needs to weigh up their circumstances, lifestyle and must never watch Marley and Me or the Andrex adverts while doing so.</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-57760818068164268032012-08-07T13:43:00.003+01:002012-08-07T13:43:56.977+01:00Goodbye Summer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
First day back at work following holidays and doesn’t feel
too bad. That’s me ready for the long haul until Christmas, summer is
officially over – well did it ever really start?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ok, I’m exaggerating we still have the rest of August and
hopefully September for a few nice days, but then I will be ready for the run
into the festive season. Let’s be honest, as parents you have to start
planning, budgeting and ordering the must have toys around October these days
anyway. I mean do you remember the scramble for Wii’s a few years ago?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before I depress you too much, I ‘d better change tack. This
is my lack of summer sunshine, vitamin D
deficiency and impending SAD pessimism taking over already.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a brighter note, I’m strutting around looking resplendent
in my new Italian Chelsea boots. Oh, I like a nice pair of shoes. Don’t get me
wrong, I’m not the male version of Imelda Marcos or anything – I only ever own
a couple of pairs at a time, but with them and my new white shirt, I have that
“back to school” feeling. Yes, I know I’m 42 and it’s not really like being
back at school – but I like to start off fresh after my holidays with some new
gear. It’s a bit like getting a new uniform, bag and pencil case.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Speaking of which, my daughter starts secondary school after
the summer and I took her to WH Smiths for some bits and pieces. £34 later, yes
that’s right, I said THIRTY FOUR POUNDS. Ok, there was a calculator in there,
but throw in a few biros, pencils, highlighters, stupid over priced erasers
that will be no use whatsoever, a geometry kit, a pencil case with Skulls on it
and some coloured gel pens – that’s all you get.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m almost 100% certain I could have got the equivalent gear
in Asda for less than a tenner. Don’t get me started on the school uniform
itself and her choice of very questionable length skirts or her “Zombie
Killing” school bag. I did try and explain that it wouldn’t really be like St Trinian’s
– but I think she has other ideas.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Actually, once the kids go back to school – that really
signifies the end of summer and impending Autumn doom and gloom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did, I mention there’s only 139 days til Christmas?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Reaches for Prozac)</div>
Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-18735139528566007972012-08-01T11:03:00.002+01:002012-08-01T11:03:47.590+01:00National Lampoons VacationWell my Center Parcs woodland holiday village experience
came and went quite quickly last week. I am officially all swimming, cycling,
field archery, tree trekking and zip wired out. Back to work for a rest next
week.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I actually enjoyed getting out in the fresh air and cycling
around, up and down the hills – well the down was a hell of a lot easier than
the up to be fair.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Our son coped relatively well with the experience, although
was never going to be able to take part in any structured group tasks due to
his frustration and outbursts. However we managed to do a “treasure trail”
which involved cycling around looking for clues, only hampered by me telling
him to go down hill and then up to the right – only for him to go up hill and
down to the left. This is a good example of where even simple communication can
be picked up incorrectly due to the way the autistic brain can process
information or where they only hear parts of a sentence and end up with a completely
different message received.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
He, of course, threw his bike down and shouted at the top of
his voice to me that I was a stupid idiot and it was all my fault, much to the
amusement of about twenty or so people who must have thought this was the brat
from hell. But we’re used to that. His only other misdemeanour was to shout at
mum she was a “f**cking idiot” for doing something equally as misinterpreted by
him later in full earshot of another disapproving audience as we left the
village centre. C’est la vie.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
My daughter insisted we took a kayak on the lake and we had
a lot of fun paddling in different directions at the same time. Olympic
teamwork was not high on the agenda unless there’s a medal category for
worrying ducks and heading for other boats inadvertently. Which we were very,
very good at.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
When we hired the sit on vessel, the guy did say we would
get a bit wet from the waist down, however I had jeans on and was completely soaked
through by the time we finished and had to walk around like John Wayne before cycling
up hill in wet denim – not a pleasant experience. I’m sure everyone thought I had
wet myself.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I diced with death on the flumes and canyon rides, escaping
the trains of kids who seemed to ignore the “one at a time” rule and somehow
always caught up with me half way down – causing impending panic as I imagined
six of the little blighters landing on top of me at the bottom. Fortunately, no
lasting damage was done.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Apart from the organised mayhem, the woodland lodge settings
were very relaxing and quiet – and I even managed to barbeque without setting
fire to the surroundings, which is a plus for future visitors and the elusive
red squirrels that I am yet to see. We had a little rabbit that kept visiting
our lodge and there was a pheasant that came close a couple of times – had we
been in the true wilderness this could have provided dinner, but I don’t think
the park rangers would have approved.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
So, apart from the five hour drive each way and the lack of
any meaningful, warm sunshine it was a good experience. Would I go back,
probably, but not before I’ve had some Mediterranean sand in my toes. Now where’s
the holiday brochures……</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-59548497989373285632012-07-19T14:21:00.005+01:002012-07-19T14:21:48.515+01:00Changing Rooms<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My house currently looks like a bomb has hit it. Now, we are
not normally an untidy lot and the self-employed cleaner (otherwise known as
the wife) keeps on top of things fastidiously. However I am in the midst of
refurbishing our daughter’s bedroom and the resultant debris fall out zone
extends throughout the whole dwelling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have disassembled furniture taking up most of the family
room, part-disassembled furniture still in the room and the contents of
underneath her old cabin bed strewn over the hall, my bedroom floor, the living
room and son’s room. How can stuff that fitted in the smallest bedroom suddenly
take up most of the rest of the house?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Furthermore, daddy’s little girl is resisting throwing
things out like her life depended on it and is clearly one of that hoarder type
personalities who may very well end up with her own house full to the ceiling
with books, newspapers, old school work from primary two and her own body
fluids kept in plastic bottles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I mean once you’ve looked at one scribbly sketch from when
she was seven, you’ve kind of looked at them all. Surely one or two
representative pieces of her “artwork” could be selectively chosen and kept. I
think she possibly considers that if she does turn into a world renowned artist
that her early work could be worth a fortune at auction one day. (Trust me it
won’t) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She has every soft toy she ever had and doesn’t expect to
part with any of them. We have even roped in the grandparents to hijack their
loft to store these things in perpetuity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite these slight hurdles, I also still have to paint the
room using no less than three different colours, remove the existing carpet,
curtain pole and light fittings. All immediately prior to replacing all of the
above and trying to work out where the massive expected cargo load of IKEA
furniture boxes are going to be stored.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meanwhile, I have put together the new bed, which will have
to be dismantled again prior to painting and the carpet being fitted - before
being reassembled again.....and we are going on holiday for a week......Arggghhh
– who planned all this chaotic mayhem?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, okay it was me. But it seemed like a good idea at the
time. However, like a shark smelling blood, at first sight of a colour chart
the self-employed cleaner has driven herself into a frenzy and is now talking
about decorating the bathroom and family room. Casually dropped in “While
you’re at it”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yeah, like I’ll just squeeze it in to my wide open schedule.
Maybe I should stick a broom up my butt and sweep the floor at the same time.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-23636033571276164572012-07-09T11:43:00.001+01:002012-07-09T11:43:03.972+01:00Edinburgh<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back to work with a bump following an extended long weekend
which involved a brief visit to Edinburgh. I always like the feel of the
Scottish capital in the summer, yes it’s full of Americans buying tartan
outfits by the dozen and posses of Japanese with camera shutters clicking away,
but there is a nice buzz about the place. I think its called atmosphere, yes
that’s it. The Castle, The Ghost Tours, The Zoo there’s something for everyone</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s especially lovely in the sunshine, where you can soak
up some rays in Princess Street Gardens or quench a beer al-fresco outside a
local cafe bar. However, it bucketed down with rain this time and so outdoor
pursuits were limited except for the die-hard umbrella and cagoule brigade.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you are ever looking to fill a few hours indoors, the
National Museum is highly recommended by me, following our last rain soaked
visit to Edinburgh a couple of years ago. This time however, we ventured to a
place I hadn’t been before – The Real Mary King’s Close. Underground narrow streets,
passages and tiny rooms that once provided residence to Edinburgh’s medieval population
before being built over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s Kind of like a cross between factual documentary and a most
haunted experience, but not quite as scary as the underground vault tour you
can take at midnight. Anyway, my twelve year old was impressed and thought the
tour guide did a great job, and I, despite slight claustrophobia and vertigo
survived to fight another day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our other great venture was to another of Edinburgh’s world
famous tourist attractions, that’s right Ikea. The historic blue and yellow
facade, hewn by hand from ancient sandstone....., well not really. Anyway, we
had a look around trying to inspire my daughter who is about to have her
bedroom re-done. She wasn’t convinced before we got there and thought I was
pulling her leg about the Swedish meatballs, but in the end found some stuff
she liked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I agreed to do up her room, I was thinking a lick of
paint, a few nik-naks and some new curtains – however we are now looking at a new
wardrobe, drawers, bed frame, carpet, lighting....otherwise known to Dad’s
everywhere as ££££’s, a week of decorating and cursing while having to re-assemble
the wardrobe correctly for the third time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We should have just gone to the Zoo. In fact if you didn’t
have to book three years in advance to see the bloody Panda’s, I might have
managed to escape the room revamp for another couple of months.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-5934790117070133962012-06-29T13:33:00.003+01:002012-06-29T13:33:49.500+01:00Birthday Blues<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, the end of another working week is near and my
odometer of life has also clicked round to another digit. Forty two years......and
counting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My best moment of the week was when someone at work asked my
age and didn’t believe I was <i>that</i>
old, which in a backhanded way was a compliment I suppose.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t tend to celebrate my birthday these days, in fact
not for a long time really. It’s just another day, but people insist on buying
me cake and sending me cards with footballs on them. I’m forty bloody two for god
sake, I don’t play with footballs anymore, I don’t go fishing and I’m never
going to have a red sports car either. The one apt card I received just had a
picture of a large glass of beer on it, now that I can relate to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am the proverbial grumpy old git these days. Everything
annoys me, people irritate me and I just don’t seem to have the enthusiasm for “fun”.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wish life was a bundle of laughs, but it’s not. It’s
bills, it’s hassle from work, it’s having to walk the dog when I just want to
read the paper, it’s dealing with a pedantic autistic 9 year old, a “Dad, Can I
have..” 12 year old and a PMT laden 40 year old.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes I just want them to leave me alone. Patience is
not my virtue and I guess I have become increasingly less tolerant of repetitive
situations and maybe just a bit fed up with life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, sometimes I have a moment of clarity and I feel
incredibly guilty for being angry at them. I realise I should be grateful for
still having the opportunity to be on this planet and I remind myself that my
brother died at the age of 21. I have been here twice as long as he got to be,
and yet here I am moaning and groaning about how crap everything is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When he died, I was 26 and actually used that as a driver
for myself to live my life in a better, more positive way and this worked for a
while. Somewhere along the way, this mantra has been lost and gradually
overtaken by frustration and apathy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can’t foresee myself ever being entirely happy with the
cards I’ve been dealt, but I need to find some way to appreciate life a bit
more. Perhaps I need more “me” time or a change of scenery now and then.
Perhaps I just need to man up and stop feeling sorry for myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps, I need to start celebrating birthdays properly and start
having some “fun”.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-29805883582057612182012-06-23T18:59:00.001+01:002012-06-23T19:08:24.001+01:00RainIt never rains but it pours. In fact, it seems to have been
pouring down here for weeks and I am becoming distinctively fed up with it.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
We are obsessed with the weather in this country at the best
of times, but rain brings an aura of emotive, depressing drudgery with it. This
is summer, I should be basking in vitamin D loaded sunshine to cheer me up and
prevent me developing rickets, but alas, it is not to be. It’s wet, miserable
and I’m even inadvertently humming tunes about the rain. I haven’t quite
resorted to umbrella swirling, Gene Kelly style singing in the rain yet but it’s
not far off.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
The Who tell us “Only love can make it rain” while Prince
insists rain is purple and only wants to see us bathing in it. The great Echo
& The Bunnymen believe “your hurricanes have brought down this ocean rain”
and even The Beatles who probably started the whole rain thing “run and hide
their heads” if it comes.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Bono screams its “raining, raining in the heart” towards the
end of One Tree hill and even Madonna feels it on her finger tips and hears it
on the window pane.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Adele more recently wanted to set fire to it, and I’d like
to do that too, at least we would get some heat for a bit. However, The Cult
confirm “here comes the rain, here she comes again” so there really is no escape and they
love it too apparantley.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Actually so do the good old boys from the Alarm who also love
to feel it in the summer time. Travis, however pose the rhetorical “Why does it
always rain on me?”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
In my ramblings of rain soaked desperation, that’s
actually quite a good little play list and has cheered me up no end. I think to
finish it off I will add my beloved elbow’s Great Expectations which is a most beautiful
song and starts off with the very apt “and if it rains all day, call on you, I’ll
call on you like I used to. Slide down beside you and wrap you in stories,
tailored entirely for you….”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
If you are fed up with the rain, or looking for a tune or
two, go listen to these</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
The Who – Love, Reign O’er Me</div>
Prince - Purple Rain<br />
Echo & the Bunnymen – Ocean Rain<br />
The Beatles – Rain<br />
U2 – One Tree Hill<br />
Madonna – Rain<br />
Adele – Set Fire to The Rain<br />
The Cult – Rain<br />
The Alarm – Rain in The Summer Time<br />
Travis – Why Does it Always rain on Me?<br />
Elbow – Great ExpectationsRandom Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-86752376959724643962012-06-08T14:20:00.001+01:002012-06-08T14:20:09.406+01:00School Trip<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My daughter’s P7 school trip is coming up and they are going
away for five days to some adventure site with canoeing, zip wires, hiking etc.
This will be the first time she’s been away for more than two days and will no
doubt be a lump in the throat moment for me as I wave her off on Monday
morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Come to think of it, it’s already sticking in my throat a
bit, but that’s more to do with the all the stuff I’ve had to buy. There was a
list of essential items sent home from school which covers all eventualities
from an unexpected heat wave to a more realistic hypothermic climatic event.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you explain to a fashion conscious twelve year old they
need a warm fleece and a cagoule in case it gets cold or rains, they look at
you like you’ve just told them the end of the world is nigh. “But I can’t wear <i>that</i>, what will all my friends say?”
Well, they will either all be wearing the same or sitting there soaked to the
skin catching pneumonia wishing they had sensible parents – duh. (Disclaimer –
I say sensible in the loosest term)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fortunately, we bought her funky wellies last winter because
she made such a song and dance about having a pair in the first place – and then
proceeded never to wear the bloody things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our list now includes indoor shoes, outdoor shoes, wellies,
shoes to throw away after canoeing, waterproofs, jumpers, sun-cream, rucksack,
thermos flask, sandwich box plus old clothes for outdoor activities and good
clothes for travelling / peer pressure, toiletries to cover all eventualities
but also with the caveat that only one small holdall is allowed ?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unless someone has invented a Tardis like case then this is
not going to work. I suppose we could make her dress up like the Michelin man
and wear three days of clothes on top of each other.....A bit like trying to
travel on a budget airline for a week long holiday with a cabin bag.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I ended up having to buy the biggest holdall possible from
the local Argos and so she will just about be ok, other than the fact she may
not be able to carry it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is also great gnashing of teeth because they are not
allowed to take mobile phones with them. “It's not fair, how will I cope” Hmmm,
let me see. You’ll just have to speak to each other face to face, instead of
What’s Apping or Face-Timing, you know like we used to do when I was your age.
“What you didn’t have texting or nothing? like how old are you ?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m ancient, positively decrepit, a relic of the distant
past, the good old days and the way it was all rolled into one. Well, actually I’m
not. It just seems like it to her, all things being relative. Einstein’s great
theory of relativity which says something along the lines of if you are young,
then ergo your parents are massively old, stupid and know nothing of your
world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I hope all these twelve year old techno-freaks will
survive a few days in the wilderness without their digital television,
computers and mobile telecommunications devices.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Me, I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet. Well
actually, I’m not. I know there will be a big piece of something missing from
the house, even if it is the chaotic annoying bit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe these school trips are not only for the kid’s
independence but also the first step in preparing us parents for the fact that
one day they will leave home. See I’m going all melodramatic and forlorn
already and she’s not going until Monday.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-84794830739051740012012-06-04T11:29:00.003+01:002012-06-04T11:37:39.197+01:00New ShoesPicking a new pair of trainers can be a minefield with our
son. He likes his old trainers you see. They are the same kind as he had
before, and almost the same style he had before that. He kind of likes things
the same. He doesn’t like change. Any change.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
At first he resists leaving the house and finds any excuse
to delay the process. He refuses to get dressed, takes an hour to eat
breakfast, or says he’s just finishing something off on Minecraft. His list of excuses
are legendary, he could write a book called 101 ways to avoid doing something
you don’t want to.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Following extended negotiations, bribery etc we manage to
leave, but only on the proviso, this will not take any longer than
forty-minutes. God I hope there’s not a queue.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
We arrive at the sport shop and the first problem soon
becomes apparent, there are no black Nike’s with green stripes. Now, I am as
stubborn as anyone when it comes to trainers – I’m an adidas man, always have
been, always will be, so I can understand his brand preference, but why must it
be a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">green </i>swoosh ?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
There are black ones with a black swoosh. What about these? “Nah,
don’t like them”. There are black ones with a red swoosh. What about these? “Nah…Well,
maybe…..Nah, they’ve got laces, I want Velcro” Ok but you have to learn to tie
shoelaces sometime. This immediately puts more pressure on him and you can see
the body language changing, so I backtrack quickly.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
What about these ones? Look, they have a green stripe, ok
they are white but they have Velcro. “Hmmm…..yeah, Ok then I like them”. It’s a
small miracle, he’s picked a pair, we are sorted. Excuse me; do you have these
in a size 2?</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Five minutes later, assistant returns and apologises, sorry
these only start at size 3. Oh crap, just when we thought it was in the bag.
Another potential meltdown point, we pacify him for a second or two and quickly
thinking on my feet I ask what Nikes they have in his size with Velcro. A few
minutes later, the guy appears with two boxes and I’m praying by this time one
of these will hold the answer.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
First box opens and they have laces. Er, I thought we said
no laces. He doesn’t like laces. Son is now rocking back and forth, meltdown
approaching fast. That could just be enough to push him over the edge.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I wait with baited breath for the second box to open, I’m
ready for the kick off, I’m ready to leave the shop in a hurry, I’m ready for
the stares and for the embarrassment. By a stroke of luck, or fate or a
butterfly flapping its wings in New Zealand, the second box opens…… they are size
2, they have a green stripe, they have Velcro…. but…. there is a touch of blue
in them…….. “…..Yeah I like those Dad”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Relief, at least temporarily. We have the trainers. I almost
want to punch the air, he hasn’t noticed we’ve strained over forty minutes yet
either…. and we still have new swimming shorts to pick. Yeah, he likes his old
shorts too, the ones with the green and the blue pattern on them, The ones he
got two years ago and still wears because he couldn’t find another pair that
were the same last year…..Here we go again….</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-73229330598291578082012-05-31T15:53:00.001+01:002012-05-31T15:53:14.980+01:00Parents Night<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Parent’s night has come and gone. My last one at daughter’s
primary school before she heads up to the academy. She’s been a great credit to
herself over the years and has achieved ‘Golden’ status more times than I care
to remember.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Parents night is a breeze, we wait for half an hour because
they always overrun, only to be told how the teachers look forward to “these
ones” because they are easy for them. Pleasantries aside, we are in and out of
there in less than five minutes, with glowing reports of how great our daughter
is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our son was at this same school for three years. His
autistic disorder meant he could not cope with mainstream and they could not
cope with him. I spent those three years of my life almost continually battling
with the establishment to either explain to them how autism needed to be
adapted for or defending his rights. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We went through two headmistresses, three
classroom assistants and two special needs one to one teachers. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My e-mails and letters are the stuff of legend, no matter
how clever they thought they were being I responded clinically and defended my son while slashing through their waffle and exposing their lack
of knowledge and at times sheer incompetency.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had so many meetings, reviews, urgent summonses, illegal
exclusions and downright avoidance of responsibility that it almost drove us to
despair. As a professional, well informed individual who is tough in nature, I
have no idea how some parents cope with this shambles. We felt stigmatised,
alienated and discriminated against.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At times it was regularly suggested that his challenging
behaviours were a result of naughtiness or insinuations about our parenting
methods were made. For this I have to be even more grateful for our daughter’s
performance than anything. She stood as testament that we, the parents of the
child from hell were not at fault. Without her we would have been subject to
even more criticism, blame and probably more social work scrutiny.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If our parenting was ever in question, we were lucky in some
respects to be able to say, look at our daughter, look how she behaves, how she
responds, how polite and eloquent she is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For parents with children who are all autistic, they won’t
have this yardstick for others to measure them on and I would imagine the
pressure must be even greater.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To you and other parents who are fighting bureaucracy or
policies that do not deliver what they say and who have to cope with crap day
in, day out.....Try not to let those bastards get you down. You know your child
better than they ever will, but they will always think they know better.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Parents of autistic children tend to become very well
informed about the condition. Initially this can be part of the denial phase
where you franticly search for every little bit of information trying to
convince yourself that your child doesn’t have the condition. This quickly
progresses to scrambling around to understand entitlements, policies and
current practice and is further reinforced by the realisation that many
professional teaching staff know very little about ASD or its complexities as
far as individual presentation goes. This drives you to become an expert in
your own right and soon you learn where to take information from and who offers
the best explanations. Undoubtedly this is provided by other parents – or more
valuably by those who have learned and adapted to live with the condition.
Their insight and perspective means a great deal to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course the internet can be your enemy too, and there is
far too much nonsense out there, be it outrageous hypothesis or sheer
exploitation. In truth, we may never know why our children have this condition,
nor fully understand, but we must cope with it and the difficulties it brings.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-47454636212915411752012-05-25T10:05:00.004+01:002012-05-25T10:05:52.322+01:00First BBQ<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Following some of the coldest, most miserable weather I can
remember for May, the sun has finally hit the sky and we have had three great
days. Well great for all of you who weren’t stuck in an office all week.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time I have travelled home and had supper, the sun
has passed over the house next door and only a small sliver of sunshine is left
across the bottom corner of my garden. Still quite pleasant though, and nice to
sit out even if it’s only for twenty minutes or so.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However, last night I got home about 5.30pm and could smell
the enticing whiff of smoky barbeques resonating from various back gardens. As
I drifted into a hypnotic state drooling at the thought of grilled meat, it seemed
like a good idea to go and fire up my own BBQ.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The cover had torn during the winter and when I removed what
was left of it there was more dust, rusty bits and spider webs than I was
expecting. The grill was slightly, ok more than slightly manky with the remains
of the final cooking last year and the lava rock looked like it had degraded to
dust.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No problem I thought, a quick brush down, soak of the grill,
replacement briquettes and we are good to go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course, being completely stupid, I’m still dressed in my
finest work trousers with shirt and tie which of course became tarnished with
grease, rust and black marks only seconds into my mission. Cue first batch of
cursing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I attempted to clean the grill, only to find out we had no
brillo pads and so left to soak in very hot water while I shovelled out the old
lava rock. A family of slugs had moved in to the bottom of the grill pan, and I
must admit that even I was beginning to be put off the idea by now. I gloried
on, removing dead and living creatures and went to the shed only to find there
was no replacement lava rock. Curses.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
OK, I thought, while the grill pan is soaking – I’ll nip to
Asda, pick up some sausages, burgers, buns, lava rock and I’ll be back in a
jiffy. Well despite the fact that the supermarket has had barbeque food in
store since the 3<sup>rd</sup> February (a bit ambitious for Scotland) there
are only about three sausages left on the shelf and no kebabs or anything else
worth having. Furthermore despite selling gas barbeques they have no lava rock.
More cursing and a trip to Homebase now required. Time is moving on here and it’s
close to 6.15pm and I’m now hungry and irritated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I get to Homebase, there is <b><i>one </i></b>person on the till
and I’m in a queue of five people who are all carrying out major decorating
projects, complete re-landscaping of their gardens or requiring assistance with
carrying their newly acquired patio sets. I get home at 6.40pm.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wife hasn’t even washed the grill for me because she was
doing something else far more important. Cue some harsh words, slight argument
and she may have used the words ”you can stuff your burgers then”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So by 7pm, I’m sitting in the garden (now in the shade) on
my own eating frozen beef burgers with processed sliced cheese, and a few of
the worst sausages I’d ever tasted wishing I just hadn’t bothered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the upside, it was tranquil, no-one was bothering me and
I had a beer in my hand. Tonight I think I might just go straight for the beer.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-72581629847573434412012-05-21T19:42:00.001+01:002012-05-21T19:46:25.551+01:00When I was a boyI watched the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qrCRPnqlms&feature=relmfu" target="_blank">Halfords</a> seventies inspired TV ad on youtube
the other night and it really reminded me of my own childhood right down to my
beloved Raleigh <a href="http://forty-not-out.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/bike-for-sale-like-new.html" target="_blank">Grifter</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I grew up on a city estate but was lucky to escape to the
small town where my grandmother lived almost every weekend, where a harbour,
two small rivers, numerous woods and fields replaced the concrete jungle and
hard play areas I was used to.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I had a completely different set of friends with a spread of
a few years between us and that always ensured a variety of ‘experiences’ as I grew
up. The oldest ones always set the pace and probably drove many of the rites of
passage. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
We spent a considerable amount of time in the woods, playing
cowboys and Indians at an early age, right through to full teenage making out
sessions and everything in-between. We had rope swings over the river, “death
slides” across a steep embankment, dens built in the trees or bushes and an
inordinate amount of matches / firelighters and penknives.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
We weren’t a bunch of raving arsonists either, well apart
from the time we inadvertently set one of the hay bales on fire. In truth we
were a bit naughty, but I remember making campfires responsibly by finding a
clear area and using stones to build a surround – we knew to be careful. There
was the odd occasion where the temptation of spraying lighter fluid got the
better of us.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
As for the knives, well these days kids all walk about threatening
to stab each other. Back then, you had a knife for carving your name in trees
and for gutting fish, cutting line and you could just walk in to the local
sports shop and buy one without anyone batting an eyelid. Those fishing trips
were always hilarious with people throwing worms at each other, running away
from the local gamekeeper or stuffing a brown trout down someone’s pants.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Every time we went out someone always ended up soaked either
by being pushed in the river, jumping into the harbour or falling off the rope
swings.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
I also remember we all used to gather empty refundable
lemonade bottles from our respective houses and club together to buy sweets
from the corner shop…. or sometimes 10’s of Regal King Size when they still
sold them to twelve year olds.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Camping in the dark in the woods was also incredible as a
kid. I remember bravely setting off with one of my friends as the others all
chickened out. We were full of bravado and it was all great, setting up the
tent and filling up with food as the sun was setting. By the time it got dark,
we were absolutely shitting ourselves, not helped by my mate’s older brothers
collapsing the tent at <st1:time hour="23" minute="30">11.30pm</st1:time> in a
horror attack reminiscent of the Blair Witch Project.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
As I look back with nostalgia at all those experiences, I realise how different childhood is these days. So, what of my own children. Well, I have to say they have
never been <s>fishing</s> poaching, <s>camping</s> trespassing, <s>built a fire</s>
burnt anything down or <s>pushed anyone in a river</s> tried to drown anyone. I
must be doing something right. </div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6071210236050261314.post-19627454288260172192012-05-17T14:07:00.001+01:002012-05-17T14:59:03.751+01:00I am Lazy<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Following my confessions of indoor Frisbee playing and
thoughts about walking the dog on a treadmill from my armchair, I have realised
I am officially a lazy git.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am the kid who was led to believe that by the turn of the
century we should have had robots doing the housework, serving you drinks and
washing the car. Personally, I blame the programme “Tomorrow’s World” for
introducing us to all these labour saving concepts and thereby brainwashing me
as a child.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having said that, I am also guilty of failing to take
advantage of the many technologies that do exist to make our lives easier. For
example we still do not have a dishwasher. I defend this by suggesting it’s far
more environmentally friendly to wash your dishes by hand. In doing so, I am of
course single handedly saving the planet. My wife will say that I’m just a
tight git who won’t buy one. I’ll leave you to make up your own mind.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, now I have confessed to being a tight and lazy
git I might as well ask for some other offences to be taken into consideration.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It struck me this morning that despite having an annoying
warning message flashing at me on the car dashboard every day for the last six
weeks, I still haven’t got round to changing my brake light bulb. I mean we are
not talking huge expense or a major inconvenience here, all I have to do is
stop past Halfords and spend about two minutes in the boot of the car and yet
it remains undone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In fact, bulb replacement must be one of my weaknesses.
Again, I tell you no lies; my fridge light has been out for at least six months.
Someone (My Cuntry Manor) was posting pictures of inside your fridge on Twitter
the other week and I couldn’t join in, because my fridge was too dark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Furthermore, my cooker hood bulb went out over a year ago,
leaving my hob in relative gloom. Even worse, the oven light, you know the one
inside the oven hasn’t worked for as long as I can remember.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t mention Christmas lights either, half the bulbs on the
tree were not working last year, although in my defence I couldn’t find any
suitable replacement ones in Homebase after I was nagged incessantly for half
of December.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that covers all my lack of bulb replacements, I’m glad I’ve
got that off my chest. Oh crap, just remembered one of the table lamps in the
bedroom too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure I have time to go into all the torches, toys or
other things that are lying around needing batteries nor the set of shelves we
bought from IKEA four years ago that are still sitting in the bottom of the
wardrobe waiting to be put up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In fact, I was also supposed to touch up all the internal
woodwork varnish last year but I think the wife has forgotten about that , or
is just keeping quiet about it because <i>her</i>
bloody dog has chewed half the skirting boards.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I may have to stop this confession as I’m starting
to recall even more grievous acts of sheer laziness that I had no intention of
uncovering and must have been successful in forgetting them altogether in the
first place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m beginning to think I must have Spanish blood or the most
advanced case of <span lang="ES-TRAD">“mañana</span>,
<span lang="ES-TRAD">mañana</span>” syndrome in
the western world.</div>Random Pearls Of Wisdomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09578615842958988257noreply@blogger.com2