cold tits and warm tits


I came across this post just now and it made me smile. I hope it makes you smile too.

Tripping Over Pebbles No More

Winter’s here!

Well, I say winter’s here but it’s been a balmy 9 degrees for the last few days. That is all set to change later in the week though when the wind from Siberia is set to swoosh its way down at a rapid rate of knots bringing its pal, snow with it.

That’ll turn a few warm tits into cold tits.

Rude?

I’m not being rude. Let me explain, dear reader.

Many years ago when Boofuls and I were trainee microlight pilots our instructor was the late, great Tony Wells, otherwise known as Uncle Dumper.

The name came about when Boofuls gained his pilot’s licence, I was still circuit bashing,  and we would want to go off flying together, which of course we couldn’t do in a microlight with a baby in tow so we’d say to Tony, “Can we dump her her on you for an hour?”…

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And the special today is…


Munki is away for a couple of weeks. She’s gone back to that land of perfect potato pies and flattened vowels. It’s been a bit quiet here at Boofuls Towers without her. Quiet but strangely liberating.  I’d forgotten how simple life is when there are no children to consider. Feeling  a bit lightheaded  at the freedom we are enjoying, Lashes and I decided a night at a grown up restaurant was in order.  There is a very good fish restaurant in town that is so expensive you need to sell a kidney to afford to eat there but we decided that as a special treat we’d go. Who needs two kidneys anyway?

Boofuls was somewhat less keen to go as he has a well known allergy to prawns and was scared of dying. I assured him that he would be perfectly safe as a restaurant of that calibre probably has some stringent food hygiene procedures in place and are well used to dealing with allergies. Just to be on the safe side we mentioned his allergy as we went in. You’ll be glad to know he didn’t die and wasn’t even a little bit ill.

Lashes and I ordered a magnificent starter of mussels, prawns and scallops. Boofuls refused to kiss me just in case I contaminated him. He opted for stuffed mushrooms, always a good choice.

Main courses were more mussels for Lashes, monkfish for me and cod and chips for Boofuls, we thought he’d be fairly safe with that.

As my monkfish was placed on the table Lashes began to smirk. “What are you laughing at?” “Your fish, turn the plate round.”

Curiosity got the better of me and I turned the plate round to see what was causing so much hilarity. I saw it instantly and burst out laughing. My monkfish looked exactly like..er…um…lady parts.

Quick as a flash Lashes said,” Mum, it’s the snatch of the day!” I nearly choked on my sauvignon blanc.

That fuelled a very silly discussion about the restaurant putting up a specials board.

SNATCH OF THE DAY 

Mermaids Minge or Triton’s Tuppence

We laughed till we couldn’t breathe. So much for a grown up and sophisticated child free night out.

On a different note, we had a family from Brazil stay with us last week. Really lovely family, the father is an A & E consultant and heart specialist.  I literally bumped into him as I came running out of one of the bedrooms singing,  thinking that I was in an empty house. We both nearly jumped out of our skin. He composed himself as I stood there holding my chest and said to me, “You no worry, if your heart break I can fix.” Hahahaaa what a star.

I reminds me of the murder mystery party we had a few weeks ago. What a disaster. One of the guests, a chap from Thailand who doesn’t speak much English and reads even less really threw himself into his part as an English vicar. He was hysterical and hammed it up brilliantly for his audience.

One of our other guests, an English man, highly educated and well travelled behaved like an absolute moron and ruined the game for everyone, at one point throwing down his character booklet and storming out.

It just goes to show, a language barrier does not need to be a barrier to communication and being a native speaker does not mean you will be able to communicate with your peers. It’s all about attitudes and respect.

Grandad! This is really important


Young Munki has had a friend round to play this afternoon. Munki and her friend have had quite a boring afternoon. It’s really cold so they can’t play in the garden for long, they can’t be bothered with anything really. That’s never a good thing.

At one point they came in from outside for the umpteenth time, leaving the door wide open yet again. “Grandad! We need you to do something.” His reply was that he was working and to find something to do. “Grandad, this is really important! You need to stop working and do this for us, it’s really important. With a huge sigh he turned to Munki and Anna.

“What’s so important that I have to stop work and do this immediately for you?” “Well, Anna’s cat ran away in 2016 and we need you to make a poster about it in case anyone has found it.”

“I beg your pardon? You want me to stop working to make a poster about a cat that went missing two years ago?” “Yes, someone might have seen it.” It was about point when Boofuls suggested that Munki might like to create and print a poster on her own computer. Her reply went a bit like this. “I’VE TOLD YOU I CAN’T PRINT ON MY COMPUTER!!!” She might as well have added, ‘You stupid man!’

Munki is getting to the stage where she likes to live dangerously, It was certainly dangerous for Boofuls, I thought he was going to have a stroke! He went bright red and huffed a bit before gaining control of himself and suggesting that they might like to find something else to occupy their time with.

Moving on – in other news. My friend Kery saw a poster advertising a psychic night in a local cavern. Yes, you did read that correctly it was a cavern and not a tavern.  There is a place nearby that has caverns, stalagmites, stalactites, eerie rock formations and very good mood lighting. Actually, a perfect location for a night with the spooks.

We coughed up our £25 each and turned up at the appointed hour excited and ready to receive spectacular evidence from beyond the grave. chairs were set out theatre style and the mediums worked from the front of the cavern. Shame that, we couldn’t see a damn thing.  The show started – with a man and his guitar singing a song about Torquay.  I’m trying to be kind here – it was utter rubbish.

It went along the  lines of: ‘Here’s a town called Torquay, it’s next to the sea, let’s go, you and me, to a town called Torquay. Like I said, utter rubbish. Kerry, being from Essex and very outspoken voiced her opinion in a stage whisper that would have woken the dead.

“What a load of facking’ rubbish. I ain’t payin’ good fackin’ money to sit through this fackin’ shit, Fack me. I could fackin’ write a better fackin’ song than fackin’ that. “Ere, cam on – let’s go and get a fackin’ drink.

So, we went off into the reception area where various mediums had set out their stalls to do mini readings for a fee of £8 each. “Well, it’s gotta be fackin’ better than that fackin’ shit in there. Let’s have a readin’ aht ‘ere.” Of course her volume control is non existent and disapproving heads turned towards us from every direction. I giggled with embarrassment and looked at the floor.

She went off to have her reading, with the man in the clown-esque suit while I sat and waited for her. As I sat, a woman came and sat down next to me, plonking a laden tea tray in front of me. “You’re sharing  a pot of tea with me”, she said in a voice that brooked no argument. Inwardly I stated boldly that I don’t like tea but one look at her face told me that I was better keeping that opinion to myself.

The woman poured me a cup of tea and then proceeded to tell me that she was furious because Wales had been kicked out of the rugby so she got drunk that afternoon and her friend made her come here tonight and it was all rubbish. Then she began to tell me in great detail all about the rugby game. I was effectively her prisoner.

Best night out ever. Worth 25 quid of anybody’s money this lot.

Eventually Kerry came back, thank God. “Let’s go back into the cavern, I suggested, it’ll be a different medium now so it might be better.  We went back into the cavern and managed to get a seat very near to the front so we could at least see what was going on. It was a different medium but sadly, no better. Her whole demonstration consisted of leading questions, wild guesses and a string of names.  The ‘evidence’ consisted of things like,” You’ve had a lot of problems lately haven’t you?” Well, who hasn’t?  “Can you take the name, Margaret? No? Look around for it, you’ll find out at some point.” What a load of tosh.

You will have already guessed that Kerry was still not impressed. She sighed loudly and often. Leaning over to me from time to time to tell me what a load of old shite it was. For my part I just sat quietly in the freezing cold cavern telling myself I wasn’t cold and making the most of the time by doing my pelvic floor exercises.

The best part of the whole evening was the very camp gay medium who saw his own breath and commented, “Did anyone else see that? Oh my God! I thought I’d passed and come back as a message.” Heh. For a second I lost count of my pelvic floors.

As nights out go it probably wasn’t the best one ever.  For future reference, if I ever go out with Kerry again it will be somewhere with plenty of background noise so if she isn’t impressed the sound of her disapproval will be lost in the general hubbub. On the plus side….nope, can’t think of one. It was purgatory from start to finish and it cost me £25!

 

 

 

 

The kid’s way too clever


“Nanny! Nanny! Come here a minute, I want to tell you something.”

I popped my head into Munki’s bedroom with a sigh thinking it was more bedtime procrastinating.

“Yes, what is it? Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I’m doing an experiment but it’s a secret, I can’t tell you what it is yet.”

That was how we left it, I didn’t push for details and she didn’t offer any. In fact, rather than try and keep me talking as she normally does, she hopped straight into bed.

Fast forward to first thing this morning when she greeted me with a big smile telling me that her experiment was now complete.

“Did it work?”

“No Nanny.”

“Oh, ok. You look very happy about it. Can you tell me what it was now?”

“Yes. My tooth finally fell out yesterday and I wanted to find out if the tooth fairy was real or if you grown-ups just made it up so I decided not to tell any grown-ups about it to see if the tooth fairy still came. She didn’t. I proved she’s not real, didn’t I?”

Dammit! The child is too clever. What to reply?

After a moment’s deliberation, I decided that the game was up and trying to brazen it out was probably not the way to go, she’d proved her point.

“Ok you clever little Munki the tooth fairy is nanny shaped and here is a pound for you.”

Her little eyes lit up as she eagerly accepted my gift. “Thanks, Nanny!”

She’s so clever to have worked out a plan and carried it out as she did and I’m really proud of her…and just a little sad that that little piece of childhood magic has ended for her.

Why do they grow up so fast?

Social Whirl and Family Ties


Wow! Our feet haven’t touched the ground in the last week or so.

Visitors from up country have been replaced by more visitors from up country to be replaced by yet more visitors from up country.

Yeah? So? You own a B&B I can hear you saying.

Very true, we do. Paying guests coming and going is one thing. Personal guests coming and going is so much more exhausting!

Don’t think this is a complaint. It’s been absolutely lovely having friends and family coming to stay. Especially my brother who hasn’t been before.

It’s fair to say we have a bit of a precarious relationship with him and his wife so I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

I fretted.

Would they like the room? Shall we eat in or eat out? If we eat out what kind of restaurant are they going to want, I didn’t want to insult him by going to the cheapest place in town or put him in a difficult position by going to an expensive restaurant. How much time were we expected to spend with them? Were we supposed to spend all day or just part of the day. I didn’t want him thinking we were hijacking their holiday or ignoring them when they wanted to spend time with us. What about breakfast? Shall I offer them the works or simplify it as they were the only people here. Shall we eat with them or treat them as paying guests and wait on them hand and foot?

You get the idea. There wasn’t a single aspect of their stay I didn’t fret about.

It was very stressful.

They brought their six year old granddaughter with them and she made everything so much easier. She and Munki got on like a house on fire so they had a whale of a time and you know what they say…happy kids = happy adults.

I know you’re dying to ask me, how was it then?

It was brilliant. I suspect we were all a little bit tense, and trying that much harder to make it work. And it worked! We ate out (carvery, wins every time!), we laughed, we chatted we indulged the kids. What we didn’t really do was rake over old ground or bring up our tumultuous past. It went so well that they are talking about coming down again in October!

I haven’t always had the best relationship with my brother and his wife for all sorts of reasons. I have often felt like I have lost both of my brothers, my younger brother died three years ago.

I was thrilled a few months ago when I discovered that he quietly follows me on Facebook, he rarely comments on anything but I know he’s there and taking an interest and that is massive. I always thought he really wasn’t interested in my life.  Knowing that, and having had the last few days has rebuilt our relationship a little bit and I couldn’t be happier about it.

Roll on October !

I have wonkers


Lashes, Munki and myself were having one of our deep, emotionally mature and intelligent discussions the other day about growing pains. Oh ok then, we were having a multi generational girly chat about absolutely nothing and having  a lovely time doing it. Boofuls gave up trying to join in and beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of his computer desk so he didn’t have to try and make sense of the flow of consciousness emanating from us.

It seems the Munki, having reached the grand old age of nine, is suffering from growing pains. Blimey, growing pains, that takes me back. When I was a child any ache, pain, twinge or tenderness was put down to growing pains. Basically, unless a limb was hanging off or we were projectile vomiting it was dismissed as growing pains.

Nowadays it’s put down to old age.

Anyway, Munki was describing  a particular pain that she was suffering from  while rubbing her midriff.  I mentioned that she’d had a stitch in her side the previous evening while we were walking the dog, could it be like that? Her reply was, “Oh yeah, it’s like that but now I have one ‘coz”…and then she stopped talking to gather her thoughts.

Lashes and I, at exactly the same time, exclaimed, “Wonkers? You’ve got wonkers?  Well we’d better call an ambulance then. Wonkers can be really dangerous.”

The number of times me and that girl say exactly the same thing at the same time is downright eerie, anyway, I digress.

Poor old Munki  couldn’t catch her breath for laughing.  Then it progressed on to wonkers being a body part and in which part of the body they would be located.

When I told her it had to be down the side she and Lashes both gave me a funny look. “What, Nanny?”

“Well, love. Didn’t you realise that people have two of everything down the side and one of everything down the middle?  So, if you have wonkers, it has to be down the sides.”

It was so funny watching them mentally work their way round their bodies, well Lashes did it mentally, Munki had to touch her ears, eyes, nose and mouth before she got the idea and then  as comprehension dawned their eyes widened and they both said ,  “OHHHHHHH YES!!” at exactly the same time. That’s obviously a family trait being handed down from mothers to daughters.

It’s great living with three generations of us in the same house, we never know what’s going to come out next.

Doggie and Kitty Revisited


Here’s a post from 2012. It was taken when Douggie the doggie was just a few months old and Shazza the kitty was about six weeks old.

I tried to repost the original but I couldn’t work out how to do it and it’s too ute a piture to just let it go so here it is:

Douggie & Shazza

They quite liked each other then but now that Shazza is all grow up she hates Douggie, even though he tries his best to be friendly, in the way that most dogs do. Funnily enough she seems affronted by his attention.

Golden retriever puppy and cute kitten

Crazy Golf


A couple of weeks ago I had an itch that I really needed to scratch. As I’m writing this I’ve realised it was substantially more than a couple of weeks but just go with it…Stupid thing, I really, really wanted to go and play crazy golf after dark so the course would be all floodlit. Why? No idea. Crazy golf is nowhere near the top of my list of things I want to do, in fact I’m not sure it’s even on the list but it sure was at this point.

It was just before Christmas, a couple of weeks before Munki was due to go off up country to see her northern family.  The idea of going for a game of crazy golf was floated, “Anyone fancy a game of crazy golf after tea? I’ll be fun.”

Silence all round. “Oh, go on, it’ll be fun.”

“Maybe tomorrow”, Lashes piped up, much to my irritation. “Don’t patronise me or fob me off, I’m not six. That’ll be a no then.”

The itch got stronger and stronger. Every night I walked past the floodlit course with Douggie the doggie and really wanted to go in and play.  It is on our normal evening stroll route, I wasn’t getting all weird and going out of my way to gaze through the railings like Tiny Tim through the sweet shop window. It’s amazing how many people don’t play crazy golf at night and in winter. The course was always deserted.

“Pleeeeeeease can we go and play a game of crazy golf? Pleeeeeeeease?”

Eventually Boofuls caved in and nine year old Munki felt sorry enough for me to tag along because I lured her with the promise of photos with the lions, tigers and monkeys on this jungle themed course.

Off we trotted. It was fun! We had the entire place to ourselves on a  cold, clear and bright evening. Parts of it were a bit tricky as the flood lighting didn’t reach every part of the course. Watching Munki try to retrieve her ball from the water in the pitch black was brilliant, highlight of the evening – well almost but I’m coming to that.

Eventually, we got to the end of the course,  I was tired.  At that point I was still post op riding round on my buggy so being on my feet for the best part of an hour was hard work. It’s fair to say I’d got the crazy golf well and truly out of my system.

It was with a great deal of relief that we finally reached the final hole. This is the one where you return your ball by whacking it into a huge shed like construction with a slope and a small hole in the middle. If you manage to get the ball into the hole you win a free game, it’s almost impossible at the best of times. It was pitch black. No chance of getting this in there then I thought to myself. Skill and finesse had no place here.  I gave the ball an almighty whack and sent it flying into the black void. Two seconds later a loud bell rang out! I’d only been and gone and done it!

The chap sitting behind the counter looked up, shocked. Probably half as shocked as the rest of us. If I hadn’t been so tired I’d have done a happy dance. Munki anted to go and do the free game immediately, I told her we’d save it for a post Christmas treat.

Here are just a few photos of the evening. One of those simple and uncomplicated family times that are so precious. Even if I did have to beg, plead and bribe to get it haha.

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Drectly


Since coming to live in Devon we have discovered that all of the tradesmen seem to work for the same company – Drectly.

We have come across Drectly plumbers, Drectly electrical, Drectly interiors, you name it. They all have one thing in common. Every time you phone them to book an appointment, every one of them tells you – I’ll be there Drectly.

Drectly can be any time between one hour and in the case of one Drectly plumber, three months and still no sign of him showing up.

It’s a very laid back approach to business, a bit mañana but with added pasties and cider.

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