We only wanted a bit of fun!

Oh dear, some of the lads aren’t talking to me. I’m in the doghouse, in the dog poo even.

Well, I thought what we did was funny and so did my mate Amanda. I mean, have you ever been to a football match? Not the American game where huge hunky guys look even huger and hunkier thanks that sexy armour they wear! No, that boring game in which twenty or so hairy sweaty blokes run around in baggy shorts, swearing like troopers whilst kicking a ball backwards and forwards between them.It just needed lightening up a bit.

Anyway we agreed to turn up at the match because some of our friends were playing. Apparently it was the final of some local village competition. Now I’m not talking about a big stadium game. Not even a little stadium game. We met on the village green and stood in the middle of a row of onlookers who were spread out along a white line at the edge of the pitch.

Now, put yourself in our position. It’s cold enough to freeze the do-da’s off a brass monkey. The game was going nowhere with not a single goal being scored in over an hour. And then the ball dribbled straight towards Amanda and me.

We didn’t need to look at each other, we didn’t even speak. We knew what had to be done and we did what came naturally!

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I tapped the ball toward Amanda and then ran back a bit. Amanda nudged the ball back to me, I kicked to Amanda and we were away. At last we were having fun! Both teams came lumbering after us as we ran all over the green and beyond. The footballers tried all sorts of moves to get their ball back, but our footwork was too nifty for them and all they did was trip over their own feet and bump into each other!

Then Amanda pointed towards the abandoned football pitch with its two empty goal net things. We knew what we had to do.We ran straight for the pitch and Amanda booted the ball high into the sky right over the heads of the lads. They just stood there looking up, helpless to do anything. It was like slow motion. Then it fell from the sky right above me. I just butted it with my head and the ball shot straight into the centre of an open goal!

Now, there are two schools of thought about what went on that day. The football fans say that we ruined the most important game of the season. We say that thanks to us it turned out to be the most entertaining game of the season. Right now the jury’s out, but I’m sure we’ll have the last laugh – just as we did on the day!

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Aging - it's just a matter of time

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I so wish this Sunday Scribblings prompt hadn’t come up. After all what do I know about aging?’ I’m still a kitten, a rosebud!

And then it hit me. In 2010 I’ll ............I can’t bring myself to say it..........I’ll hit the big three-oh!

You know what that means. Gravity will begin to take control where taut flesh once ruled. Bits which are now peeping upward will start to head south (do Australian and New Zealand woman’s bits head north? I’ve often wondered)

I’ve just looked in the mirror. What I’ve been calling laughter lines are beginning to look like the start of wrinkles! Help, wrinkles. I need to get some lotions and potions. Baby cream won’t be able to keep up. Wikipikipoo says that I need (listen to this) Alpha Hydroxy Acid which helps to dissolve the intracellular glue that holds the dead cells together on the skin. Eeek!

I’m getting shorter, I know I am. Old people shrink and I’m starting already. And my ears are growing. I look like bloody Dumbo! I’ll be flying soon.

Eyes. My eyes. Can I still read a car registration plate from 25 yards? Err, no. My hair. I spotted a grey one the other day. It’s only a matter of time until it looks like my granny’s. Soon I’ll be off to the pensioner’s hair dresser for a blue rinse and a curly perm over a nice cup of tea and a digestive biscuit.

And I’m shrinking. Oh no, I said that just now. I’m repeating myself!

Did you hear about the old couple on the beach? She said to him ‘what do you think of my flip-flops?’ He said ‘Shut up and put your bikini back on’

This is all too depressing so I’m stopping right now!
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Let Bill decide!

This is my first go at proper fiction - most of what I've written up 'til now has been more or less factual! Hope it's OK.

This is the prompt on Fiction Friday this week. Setting: An office building - A secondary character says: “Look, somebody has got to make a decision.” Your main character offers a solution.

'Tea break ladies’ chirped old Bill as he pushed his trolley into the typing pool. Bill had been doing the tea round for ever, or so it seemed. ‘What shall I have Bill, a piece of that cake or one of those chocolate biscuits? Help me decide!’ said Carol.

Ten minutes later and Bill heaves his trolley into the post room. ‘Hi Bill’ called Jim. ‘Help me decide Bill, which of these new logos should I pick for the franking machine?’

Morning girls and boys he shouted. Suddenly all went quiet in the call centre as they all took off their headsets and formed an orderly queue for their elevenses! ‘Bill’ said Julie ‘We can’t decide who should represent our department in the bowls contest next week. You chose’

Next stop was packaging. ‘Tea up lads’ called Bill. George put down his roll of tape. ‘Thought you were never going to get here Bill. A word in your ear mate’. George cupped his hand close to Bills ear. ‘Can’t make my mind up mate. Who should I take to the company party tomorrow night? Sue or Brenda? It’s not easy being in such demand!

'Bill tapped on the boardroom door. No reply. He tapped again a little louder. ‘Come’ called a voice from within. Bill pushed open the fat mahogany door and wheeled his trolley to the back of the room. ‘Coffee ladies and gentlemen’ he called. ‘Hang on one minute Bill’ said the MD. ‘Before we break for coffee we need a decision on which of these two designs we should go with. Somebody has got to make a decision. We’ve been scratching our heads for ages and we are split down the middle. So Bill, you decide’.

It had been a typical working day for Bill. It seemed that no one could make a decision without Bill helping them. On his way home he wandered into the Frog and Sparrow for his nightly pint. ‘Evening Bill’ yelled the landlord as Bill strode toward the bar. ‘What’ll it be? Bitter tonight or a drop of lager?’‘Ooo’ said Bill ‘Can’t make my mind up. Tell you what, you decide’.
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Beige - not the most exciting colour!

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True Colours Thursday is all about Beige this week. It’s All Rinkly Rimes fault – she suggested it. Watch out for Rosey’s Revenge!!

I was racking my brain (should that be wracking? not sure) Anyway I was really having trouble thinking of something beige. ‘Beige’ I said to myself, ‘beige, beige, beige’

The only thing that came into my mind was Beijing! But that’s not a colour. Then I remembered that there was a Chinese Restaurant called Beijing and I was sure the sign above the door was beige. And it is!
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I was eating a bowl of peanuts yesterday. They looked beige so I photographed them. Then I remembered something funny that happened a couple of weeks ago. We were in the pub (again) and a lady started choking on a peanut. ‘Yes’ I shouted. ‘Fantastic, I can practice my Heimlich manoeuvre!’

It was suggested that maybe a simple slap on the back might be the first course of action, so that’s what I did. I have to admit I gave her quite a hefty wallop but it seemed to work.

Unfortunately it wasn’t just the offending nut that shot out. So did her false teeth and they landed plop in the middle of her husband’s spaghetti bolognese.

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A couple of year’s back I was given a CD called Big Beige Car. Yawn or what? It should have been called Big Beige Bore. So depressing. It’s by an outfit called The Lennings. Aren’t they the little critters who jump off cliffs? They must have heard this CD too! Oh no, they were lemmings!Gosh - I hope I haven’t offended any Lennings aficionados, or any lemmings for that matter!!

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So, next week it’s Scarlet! Yipee! Lippy at the ready.

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Where did you come from?

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This week on Sunday Scribbling we have been given the words 'I come from......' That set me off!

People often discuss what they would like to come back as in a future life. Me? I like to try and work out where I came from.

Obviously I know where I came from when I was born, but previous lives are fun to ponder on.

For instance, when I was little I had two front teeth. I still have two front teeth of course, but when I was little they were somewhat prominent. Not just that, by my dear mother always made me take a carrot to school in my lunchbox. Needless to say all my friends were convinced that I was descended from rabbits!

When I was little older I discovered boys. I was always a bit awkward with boys, and whilst I’d prefer not to go into detail, I was known for getting my arms and legs all over the place. So much so that I got known as the octopus!

More recently my knitting has been the cause of considerable mirth among my friends. I wear so much wool that I was told the other day that I must come from a family of sheep!

Tell you what though; I’d love to have been born an Empress. The Empress of Eastbourne! All those robes and jewels. People would bow to me. The only time they do that now is when I deliberately drop something when I see a good looking bloke and he bends down to pick it up!

Actually I do happen to know that my family comes from a long line of yokels. I love that word! Yokel. According to the dictionary, yokel is an offensive term which insults a country dweller. But I like the word. It doesn’t insult me. My family didn’t always have money. My grandfather was a gardener which probably explains my interest in things horticultural. My grandmother was ‘in service’, she worked at the big house in the middle of her village. Yokels!

So this is where I think I came from;

Rabbits

Octopuses

Sheep

Empress

Yokels

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Green things!

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It's Green this week on True Colours Thursday. What a bit of luck!

Tuesday I went to a St Patricks night party at the pub and everything was green! I helped behind the bar and had to wear a massive green tee shirt. There's a couple of photos of me holding it down there. There is no way you are going to see me wearing it!

Sorry these photos are a little out of focus. I'm not much of a photographer at the best of times, but after a Guinness or two taking pictures becomes something of a challenge!
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This is my friend Chris in her Guinness hat

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This is Chris modelling this years Guiness hat!

and this is my enormous shirt!.

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Next weeks colour will be beige. Now what on earth will I do with that?

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dear past me, dear future me.

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It's Sunday Scribblings time again!.!.

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A hole in your pants

just look at you!
Grubby knees
and just one shoe

The loudest voice
it's always you!
a piercing scream
and a giggle too

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A lucky hand

your cards were good
you reached your goal
I knew you would

Those fabulous legs
just look at that wiggle!

Wonderful hips
and you’ve still got that giggle!

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Voodoo something to me

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I’m having a go at Fiction Friday this week. The prompt here is always a sentence which starts you off on a fictitious story. I won’t say what it is because it’ll spoil my merry little tale!

As you know there’s nothing I like more than a bit of knitting. And despite what a certain fella has been telling you, I really am getting pretty good at it, even though I say so myself.

A friend of mine has recently had a baby. Can’t say I envy her, babies aren’t really my thing, but she’s really chuffed. Not as ‘chuffed’ as she was when she was podgy-preggers, she was enormous then. I remember back in the summer when she was almost ripe, we went to the beach and I was seriously worried in case Greenpeace turned up and tried to refloat her.

As I was saying I’m a bit of a knitter and I decided to knit my friend’s baby a doll. I was staying away for a long weekend with a mate and we stayed in a posh hotel and I spent hours sitting on the balcony looking out at the sea with my needles a blur.

I was making quite a big doll. I didn’t mean it to be a big doll, it just kept growing and if I’m to be honest it was looking a bit ugly and I was seriously worried about it scaring the poor child rather than comforting it! When the day came to leave I’d just started the stuffing and sewing together process.

But when I got back home and unpacked my case I discovered the wretched doll had disappeared! I was certain I’d packed it. I must have dropped it and left it in the room. Maybe it had taken on a life of its own like Chuckie and gone off on its travels.

A few days later I got a call from the hotel. It seems that a businessman had rented the room after we had vacated it. He was staying several days. On the third day, he dropped something down the back of the huge leather armchair in the room, and he had to pull it away from the wall to get whatever it was back.

I’m told the ambulance crew arrived just in time. Seems he had a dicky ticker, you know, a weak heart and when he peered down behind the chair he saw what he thought was a voodoo doll complete with needles sticking in to it. He was convinced his ex-wife had planted it there!

Anyway, the hotel receptionist remembered seeing me knitting the doll and was able to assure him that it was a harmless unfinished child’splaything. (I’ll never forget the expression on her face the day she looked at it close up. I’m sure she shivered!) She told me what had happened and said she’d send it in the post to me.

That was two weeks ago and as yet the package has not yet arrived. I wonder where my doll is now?

Oh by the way, the prompt was 'During his third night out of town, a traveling businessman discovers a voodoo doll in his hotel room'.

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My violet

True Colours Thursday is all about violet this week. It doesn’t get any easier!

My immediate thought was ‘crocuses’ but then I thought ‘no, everyone will do crocuses'. But then I saw this little fella all alone in a sea of white ones and I couldn’t resist him!
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Another pretty violet flower is the Iris. Although it’s huge compared to the little crocus they are actually the same family – Iridaceae. Irises are grown in lots of colours and they are named after the Greek Goddess of the Rainbow who is also known as Iris. And in case you think I’m being very clever I’m afraid I have to confess that I looked all that up in Wickipickipoo!



Look – violet chockies! Well a violet box. Presumably those scrummy foil wrapped, sugar coated and nut-topped portions of heaven are actually chocolate coloured! You do get some with violet soft centres but I’m not so keen on those. It’s like swallowing perfume! Good for the ‘ole breath though!

I’ve agonised over whether or not I should post the next one, but I do love violet undergarments. So to spare the gentlemen’s blushes I’ve made it very small and turned it upside-down.

I’ve saved the best for last! I took this very short video in the Five Ashes Inn on Monday. It’s Teddy Elvis and he’s showing off his fabulous violet cloak! It only lasts twenty seconds or so and I’m certain you’ll enjoy it!

Well that’s it. Next week it’s green. Now that will be fun. I may even photograph my green wellies which I got to help me to reduce my carbon footprints!

An arresting performance!

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Sunday Scribblings this week wants us to write about 'Listen up' We don't say that here, but Keith reckons it's ok if we just say 'listen'.

This was so embarrassing. I was with my friends having a drink as I often do and the landlord, Jack flapped his hand in my direction. I thought he was giving me a little wave, so I waved back.

Then he did it again and put a finger up to his lips like you do when you want someone to say nothing. Odd I thought, then I realised he was discreetly beckoning me. Anyhow me and my big mouth. ‘Jack wants to see me’ I said. I instantly realised by the scrunched up look on Jacks face that I’d done the wrong thing. Mind you his face is pretty scrunched up anyway, but this was kind of double-scrunched.

So I changed the subject by way of a distraction, and then said I had to go and powder my nose. That’s a funny expression isn’t it? My Mother always says it when she needs a pee. She doesn’t powder her nose at all!

So I walked over to the bar, checked that wasn’t being watched and stood with my back to it the way private detectives do in the movies when they want to pretend that they are not talking to anyone.

‘Tss tss - Rosey’ Jack hissed. I’m not sure if that’s how you spell a hiss but I’m sure you get my drift!

‘Why are you whispering? Jack?’I asked.

‘Shh’ another hiss. ‘Listen, I need to tell you something’.

I leaned against the bar and Jack approached my shell-like ear. He whispered something.

‘You’ll have to whisper louder’ I said, and several people turned in our direction.

Well, I couldn’t really understand what he was saying. It was like ‘listen carefully, this is very important’. Then he carried on and even accidentally spat in my ear which was not very pleasant.

I worked out that he was planning a surprise for some girl’s birthday, and knowing that our group are always the life and soul of the party he wanted us to start cheering and clapping when a male stripper dressed as a policeman arrived in the pub. I explained to my mates what we had to do.

I must state here and now that I don’t approve of such things. But I daren’t say anything against it because I get teased.

Anyway an hour or so later a ‘policeman’ came in. Quite a dishy one actually. That was my cue. ‘He’s here’ I said and we started shouting – well, I didn’t shout, but the others were shouting ‘strip strip strip’.

An red faced girl wearing a big badge with 21 on it and a pink helium balloon tied to her wrist was dragged from her chair and plonked down on a stool in front of him, then everyone except me formed a circle around them. Jack turned the music up loud. I did not particularly want to witness this lewd spectacle so I stayed in my seat.

Then someone said something behind me. I turned round and there was another policeman. ‘This is the Three Bells isn’t it?' he asked. 'If so they seemed to have double booked’

It was when the first policeman put his walkie-talkie to his mouth and starting shouting for assistance that I realised I’d made a mistake.

No one was watching me, so I slipped away.
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Mellow yellow

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I can't believe it! It's True Colours Thursday again, and today our colour is yellow - I've even given my header picture a hint of yellow!

This first pickie I took in the pub on Monday. It's a box of little yellow daffodils which you can wear if you make a contribution to Marie Curie Cancer Care. I'm wearing mine now - the daffodil that is, not the box!

Now I know you are excited. I promised to unveil the painting Giggles did of me in today's yellow post. Well I haven't forgotten but you will have to wait while I show you my other yellow efforts. NO PEEPING!!

Oh, this was funny. I saw a police car and I thought 'look, yellow'. I took a quick pic of it and then suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder (no, not water tap!). I turned round and at first I saw no-one. As you know I'm quite tall and when I peered down I saw a little policeman! They say that policemen get younger every year, but this one looked like a boy going to a fancy dress party! He was so sweet I felt like patting him on the head and tickling him under his chubby dimpled chin. Anyway he wanted to know why I was taking a photo of his little car. I supposed I did look a bit like a terrorist, after all I did have my sunglasses on and the collar of my coat turned up. Once I'd explained why I took it he seemed alright about it, but he did suggest I don't make a habit of taking pictures of cop-cars again!

Last week Keith did an article about Eastbourne seafront. He took a picture of the yellow trucks on the beach shifting the shingle in readiness for summer. His picture was DREADFUL! So I took this one to show him how it's done.

Roll of drums - fanfare - tug on the rope to drop the curtain, and here it is. Giggles picture of me. Cool eh? I'll be using it instead of my photo which I hate. You must drop by her blog by the way. It's a great place to visit, and certainly the most colourful one you are likely to come across.

That's it for this Thursday. Next week it going to be violet. Now that is going to need a bit of thinking about.

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It's no laughing matter

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There’s a club in Eastbourne called The Screaming Blue Murder Comedy Club. At least I think that’s what it’s called. Odd name really. Murder and comedy don’t normally go together! Having said that the compare did say to one of the acts ‘go knock ‘em dead’


So yes, I went to the SBMCC with a group of friends. Well, I can’t tell you – I’ve never heard bad language like it. And some of the so-called jokes were really rude. At least I assume they were jokes. I didn’t find anything particularly funny about them, but then jokes aren’t really my thing, not ‘my bag’ as they say.

Trouble is I don’t always get jokes. Actually that’s an understatement. I rarely get jokes.

For example or par exemple as they say in France. Oh, that reminds me, did you see Keith’s blog about on-line translators? Well I used one of them just then so I probably didn’t say ‘for example’ at all! He used to have a translator in the sidebar of his blogamy-jig but I noticed that it disappeared a couple of days ago. I guess he was worried about how his posts were translating!

Where was I? Oh yes. Jokes. I was going to give you an example of the problems I sometimes encounter in the hope you will tell me that I’m not as stupid as my friends think I am.

One of our group of mates works at the local crematorium. One night when we were all at the rub-a-dub (that’s cockney for pub by the way) I joked that she’s lucky she doesn’t work in 'dying trade', although hers was a bit of a 'dead-end job'. I thought that was quite amusing but the others just groaned.

Well that night she invited us all to her staff summer party. It was to be a barbecue at the crematorium. The others all laughed their heads off! Ok, I know it’s a little ironic having a barby in the crem, but not very funny. In an effort to join in I made what I thought was a mildly amusing comment. I simply wondered if we would be using the cremator thingy to cook our food to save that all that fuss trying to get the charcoal to light. Once again I was laughing and they were not.

Then John said ‘I’m not putting my meat in there – I’m fussy where I put my sausage’. And they laughed so much that Sandy started choking on her wine and John said she was having a coughing fit. Afterwards I realised he actually said ‘coffin’ fit, but even then I didn’t find it particularly funny.

Do you see what I mean?

Oh I just thought of something. The other day I said I would be unveiling the painting of me that Giggle’s done at the weekend. I didn’t forget, I just decided to use it in my piece for True Colours Thursday so you’ll just have to wait a couple more days.

So back to the crematorium thing. I did actually have the last laugh because I suddenly remembered a joke I’d heard some time ago.

There was an old man who always stirred a spoon of gunpowder into his cup of tea. One day he died and at his funeral were his wife, three children, six grandchildren and a fifty foot crater where the crematorium used to be.

We all laughed at that!
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