Tag Archives: people

Daily prompt – communication


There has been a little lull in the bar at Boofuls Towers for the last couple of days. Although we are run off our feet we have at least had the last couple of evenings to catch our breath and even to, wait for it…watch a bit of telly!

So. While I’ve been deliberately doing nothing I decided to have a catch up with my little blogette. Sitting down in front of my computer and pulling the keyboard towards me I pondered on what little tales from the last week or two I should delight you with. Um…er…sigh…I know! Er….maybe not…*drums fingers on desk*. Ok, I admit it, I’m all out of ideas.

It’s not that nothing has happened. Quite the opposite, so much has happened I’m in sensory overload. Ask me anything more difficult than my own name and I’ll be stumped.  Even poor old Douggie the doggie has had to take a back seat as we’ve been so busy. He’s definitely been short changed in the walk and training department. Mind you, with all that hot weather we had he hasn’t really been up for much.

Anyway, enough waffling. In my attempt to find something to talk about I went to the Daily Prompt page for inspiration.  The prompt was ‘communication.’

Communi-bloody-cation? Can I pick another one?

I spend my whole life comm-bloody-unicating! I’m trying to get a break from that! “Can you tell me where to go today?” Yes indeed I can tell you where to go, you can go and….”   I say brightly and then notice Boofuls giving me a stern look as he knows what’s in my head and is praying I don’t say it out loud.

So here’s a typical conversation:

Me: “Hello, room service.”

Guest: “We don’t need anything today, thanks.”

Me: “Ok, have a great day.”

Fast forward to five hours later just as we raise the first forkful of our dinner to our mouths. That’s on the days we get dinner, usually we grab a sandwich in between all the mayhem…*knock knock* “Can we have a toilet roll, and some milk pots, oh, and some hot chocolate and oh yeah, some of those little biscuits. No one came into our room today. *shocked face*

Me: “We came to your room. You said you didn’t need anything.”

Guest: ” Well we didn’t then.”

Me:  “Yes, but we top everything up in the morning for the day.  The staff go home at lunchtime.” *sigh* sits down eventually to another cold meal.

Yet another card payment has failed just now when Boofuls has put it through. That from the pious family who are going to visit a whole list of churches recommended to them by their parish priest. The ones with the rude, silent, dirty look giving, not able to answer when asked a direct question kids. That includes the one who whispered to her dad that she wanted to see the dog she’d seen on the website and when I brought him to see her her face didn’t even twitch, she totally ignored me and the dog. It was like he was invisible.  He should have peed up her leg!

Am I communicating a vibe?

It’s August.  I’m tired, grumpy and sick of being nice to chuffing morons. We haven’t had a day off for months. And if one more person ties my net curtains in a knot, nicks stuff, damages stuff and says nothing or hangs their knickers out of the window to dry I’m going to punch ’em (the person,  not the knickers).

……………………………………………..dog walk break

So…It’s a couple of hours later, I’ve just been in the bar with the most delightful and funny couple. We have chatted and had a good old laugh about, well, nothing really. It was fun.

That reminded me about the lady who came to stay a couple of nights ago. She turned up very late, 10pm. She looked a little bit odd. I thought maybe she’d had a bad journey so I asked her a bit about her day. She was clearly struggling to control her emotions. I asked her if she was ok. The floodgates opened. This poor woman was here to visit her mother and she was worried sick about her. She told us the whole sorry tale. Hugs were exchanged and after a while I showed her up to her room. She seemed much calmer and able to cope.

Reflecting on all of this while I was out with Douggie I have realised that actually, the majority of people are lovely. When we’re busy it’s so easy to get overwhelmed and irritated with all the small stuff. I’ll still be glad when it all calms down though. Roll on October!

 

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It’s all very cosmopolitan


You may or may not know that before Boofuls, Lashes and myself relocated to the best bit of England we lived in a small northern town that had it’s heyday in the time of the Victorian cotton boom.

It is still dirty, grim and industrial.  Attitudes are still pretty much fixed in the Victorian era. Fair to say we haven’t missed it much (at all). It  does have some nice moorland around it though which can be lovely when it’s not raining, which is almost always.

Since we’ve lived in Devon I keep being reminded about the contrast between our northern home, all very Lowry-esque and our new home. The work of a local artist who’s work I like very much, Yvonne Coomber  sums up in an instant how I feel about living here. It’s light, bright, colourful and jolly. Sums it up beautifully!

Source: http://www.thelowry.com/gifts-and-souvenirs/prints-and-limited-editions_standard-prints/the-fever-van-1935
Source: http://www.thelowry.com/gifts-and-souvenirs/prints-and-limited-editions_standard-prints/the-fever-van-1935

 

I was chatting with a fellow dog walker today about how attitudes  differ in different parts of the country. Where we used to live you really didn’t see  gay people around. If you did then it was a talking point. “Oooooh, he’s gay you know / a shirt lifter/a poofter/ a lino carrier. Whatever the term used, it was never complimentary and the gayness of that person became the thing that defined them as in:  “You know, gay Steve.”
Just as an aside: Do you remember when gay used to mean happy?

Down here there are so many gay people that it’s just a normal thing. It doesn’t become the thing that defines them, they are just another person. I like that. What on earth has anyone’s sexuality got to do with anyone except themselves?

However, it’s not all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. We are right in the heart of UKIP country.  In the north there was a massive Asian community and while there were race issues the majority of the people all just got along nicely. Down here it is rare to see a non white person. If you do, you notice it. That causes massive racism.

I suppose everywhere has it’s down side.

One nice old lady who walks here dog became a hissing, spitting harridan at the thought of Syrian refugees being homed a few miles away. I’m not going to repeat the things she said as it was just too vile but I did point out that if my home had been destroyed, my family had been murdered and I lived in daily fear then I didn’t think it was unreasonable to try and find a better life elsewhere and I hoped that I might get shown some compassion. Let my tell you that those words fell on some mighty stony ground! Now when she starts a discussion about ‘Pak..’ I can’t even bring myself to type it…Asians, it starts with “Well I suppose you’re all in favour of it but…” Well, I probably am. We’ve only got the one world and we’re all in it together so why don’t we all just try and get on?

That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

Gi’ ‘n’ tonc dahling


It’s all a bit of a whirlwind lately. Here I am just about to tell you all about Boofuls’ birthday on 4th July and it’s nearly August! 

They weren’t fibbing when they told us July and August were busy, busy months, our feet haven’t touched the floor for weeks!

Anyway, without further ado…

The birthday bash.

Since it was Boofuls’ birthday it seemed a good idea to invite some of the local hoteliers around  for a few drinkies and to make a few new friends. Invitations were sent out and every single person accepted. In our wisdom we thought that we’d make it an afternoon ‘do’ as it was a hoteliers school night and we all had to be up early the next morning.

What on earth was I thinking? This lot can party like there’s no tomorrow.

The sun shone, the patio was decorated with tubs of flowers and umbrella’d tables. It all looked lovely. One by one the guests turned up – heavily laden with bottles of champagne, prosecco, wine, beer and cider. Why oh why did we buy so much booze? They all brought enough to sink a battleship. 

Or so I thought.

As the afternoon wore on I realised that everyone except me had drunk their own weight in alcohol. I’d decided several days earlier that I’d be staying on the wagon for this one. One of us needed a clear head in the morning. I was glad I stood by my decision. Fair to say that Boofuls had a great time.

There was much ribaldry, banter and laughter, the wine flowed like water.

One woman had to be carried home and half an hour later so did her husband.  they run a five star establishment round the corner.  I’m absolutely sure they managed to get a decent breakfast out to their guests as they are consummate professionals but I’m also pretty sure they would have gone straight back to bed after.

The afternoon turned into evening, the music played,  the conversation flowed as easily as the wine and a great time was had by all.  As the evening came to a close, Boofuls and I were sitting in the bar with a couple of German guests having a conversation via Google translate – which was hysterically funny.

Just after the clock struck 11.00 pm  two other guests walked into the bar. Two middle aged, knocking on the door of elderly, ladies who had been competing in a bridge tournament. I’m going to call them Strident and Curly.

Strident burst through the bar door; “Where’s the party? We know there’s a party, we saw it from our bedroom window. Where is it? HAVE WE MISSED IT? Oh Blahddy hell! Never mind. Get me drink!”

Clearly three sheets to the wind, I think it’s fair to say they’d also been partying.

The Germans looked at me unnerved by the somewhat wild and dishevelled looking woman shouting at me and staggering across the room.

Curly, waddled unsteadily behind her on her chubby, inebriated legs, collapsed on the sofa, and in a manner amazingly like Patsy Stone from Ab Fab, leaned off the chair arm, almost sliding to the floor and said wearily, “Gi’ ‘n’ tonc,  Dahling’.

“I’m sorry ladies. It’s gone eleven, I can’t serve you.”

Strident  answered, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only us, no one will know.  Just get us a drink!”

“Sorry ladies, can’t do it, we are only licensed till eleven.”

“Well don’t sell it to me, then  just GIVE me the blahddy drink” announced Strident stridently.

Once again I refused to serve them, at which point they took great umbrage, got unsteadily to their feet and declared;  “Oh, we might as well just go to Blahddy bed then, THEY’VE  (the Germans) have got a drink! So unfair!” They staggered angrily out of the bar. 

The Germans, who’d managed to get the gist of what was happening, and we ignored the complaining as it faded into the distance and carried on with our chat.

Before too long we trotted off to bed ready for a bright and early start the next morning to prepare breakfast for all of our lovely guests. Funnily enough, two of them didn’t make it down for breakfast. I wonder why?

 

 

 

A pot pourri of, er, stuff


What’s been occurring at Boofuls Towers in the last few days?

Loads.

But since I’m working on the basis that I’m sick of moaning and I’m sure you’re sick of hearing me moan I’m not going to mention most of it. Suffice to say that we’ve learnt a lot about human nature in the last week or two and most of it has not been very nice. One notable exception has shone through and as normal it’s been Peewee Winklepop who has totally impressed us with her dignity, honesty and friendship. Thanks, Winklepop.

Moving on.

Lets go back in time: *wwwwweeeeooooooweeeeooooowwweeeeeeeeee wavy lines change the picture to bank holiday weekend*

Remember that Douggie and I were entering our first dance competition?  We did it!!

We didn’t win but we did manage to get placed in both classes. It was BRILLIANT!! Such a lot of fun – I think I’ve discovered that I’m a total show off – and so is Douggie. Being in front of a table full of judges and adjudicators didn’t phase us at all, we just enjoyed ourselves. Douggie, while he wasn’t exactly twinkle toed, plodded through the routine with a big soppy grin on his face while I bounced around like a, lunatic trying to coerce him to join in.

Here we are with our rosettes for first 6th place and then 7th place.  I can’t wait for the next one! We have a video of it but I haven’t seen it yet. I’ll post it when it’s ready.

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I’ve now done my final week’s shooting at the studio. Now it’s just a big empty shell. Here is a memento of my last shoot. *sob*

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Funnily enough, the last shoot was of a proper little brat. I couldn’t her out and get the shutters down behind her quickly enough. it took the sadness out of it for me and made me feel relieved I don’t have to do that again.

 

During the last week I shot a few photos of Douggie with some of my props. I’m not sure he was impressed with the first one teeheehee. I should call him Doris!Copyright

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As a consolation prize for humiliating him in the studio I took him for  a nice long walk on the moors and of course he got muddied up to the eyeballs.  He was so muddy  that there really was no choice but to give him a bath. Funny thing about Douggie, he’ll get in the bath but he won’t get out of it. He sat there glaring balefully at me for a good half an hour while I tried to tempt him out with treats and by rattling his dinner dish but no,  he stayed there till Boofuls came home from work. If looks could kill, eh?

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Summer’s here at Boofuls Towers and the little birdies have come back to nest in the barn again. I’m not sure if they are swallows or swifts but they are very pretty. I’ve been doing impressions of them. Do you want to see them?

Ok. Here’s my impression of a swallow:

*gulp*

Here’s my impression of a swift:

Wanna see it again?

Oh yes! Every one’s a winner, folks!

 

Cutting off my nose


In a previous life, the life where I was always smartly dressed, wore full make up and high heels and never looked like a bag lady, I did a lot of work with people and personalities.

Broadly speaking we used to split people into six main character groups which were; dramatics, classics, naturals, gamines, ingenues and romantics. It makes it so much easier to understand people when you know roughly where they’re coming from. In it’s simplest terms it’s a way of describing personality traits.

At the dramatic, or yang, end of the scale you have the straight talkers. Cross one of these and you’ll get both barrels. Boom! You’ll wonder what the hell hit you but at the end of it they’ll carry on as if nothing had ever happened, once they’ve said their piece  it’s over and forgotten about.

At the other end of the scale are the  more yin characters. They’ll fester, brew and sulk until they’ve managed to sort it all out in their head and their heart. Cross one of these and you’ll know about it for the rest of your life. They might forgive but boy, will they remember.

Most of us have elements of both.

My Boofuls is a full on dramatic. He inadvertently scares some (actually, quite a few) people with his brooding looks and forthright manner. Me, I know what he’s like under the surface and it makes me laugh when people say they feel intimidated by him. He’s a pussycat really.

Me, I’m a bizarre mixture that had a whole team of image consultants flummoxed with my curvy figure, childish humour  and impetuous adventurous streak. In the end we settled in a mix of natural and gamine i.e. boyish ( but with huge knockers ). What I have got though is a yin streak a mile wide that causes me to stew on events that I should really just put behind me.

Like what I can hear you asking.

Well, I’ll tell you.

Like at the dog club the other week when they royally pissed me off. I’m trying really hard not to rant about it and bore you with the whole story.

So, because they’ve royally pissed me off I’ve decided that I’m not going back to that particular dog club – even if that means missing out on the demonstration in a couple of weeks that I really want to take part in  and Douggie the Doggie not gaining his gold medal award for obedience.

Talk about cutting off my nose to spite my face. It’s ridiculous but I just can’t bring myself to go back because I’m still so angry.

My grown up head knows that I’d be far better telling them in no uncertain terms that I think they’re a bunch of idiots who couldn’t run a piss up in a brewery. Ok, I probably shouldn’t word it quite like that but you get my point. As it is, I mildly registered my discontent and slunk out never to return.

If this was anyone else I’d be telling them not to be silly and have a word with the club  but oh no, this is me, let’s get the sodding carving knife out and lop my nose off instead, that’s a far better idea.

Pathetic.

There are times I really wish I was more yang.

 

 

It’s been an odd few days


It’s just been a bit………y’know, odd.

Today I saw a tree, a proper big, planted in the ground tree, with a chain and padlock around it. It’s a poor do when people are chaining trees to the ground.  During the same walk I happened to be walking behind a group of young lads. Another young lad approached from behind, overtaking me and turning left away from the group.  Imaging my amazement when of of the group picked up a sizeable rock and was about to hurl it at this poor unsuspecting boy. Just as he was about to throw it he saw me watching and changed his mind, angrily throwing the rock back onto the ground.

WTF???? What kind of dickhead feels the urge to throw rocks at total strangers for no reason at all?  It would have brained this poor lad if it had hit him.

Relieved that the event had come to nothing I carried on my way. Only to hear that  the same group of dickheads had changed direction and were now right behind me – I could tell it was them by the monosyllabic conversation littered with four letter words at full volume.

What? What do you mean ‘Pot calling the kettle black?’

Yes I use four letter words, and  in copious amounts when the mood takes me, but never in a public place or in earshot of sensitive or young souls – with the exception of Winklepop but she takes it with a pinch of salt.  Can we get back to the story now, please?

Scared that I’d be next in line for half a brick round the back of the head, I hotfooted it back up onto the main road as fast as my little legs would carry me, grateful that I had a huge dog in tow. I know he’s as soft as butter but they didn’t and that was how I liked it.  Anyway, we got back in one piece with me still in shack at what I’d just seen. Honestly, people never cease to amaze me and usually not for good reasons.

Douggie the doggie has still got sore paws from his misadventures on the not so dog friendly after all beaches in Torquay. The sharp rocks cut his little feet to ribbons. He still has to wear a little space boot on one of his paws when we go out.  He looks like a part dressed doggie spaceman.

The cut feet put paid to my plans of lovely long morning walks while we were away. The poor dog was mincing along saying ‘ow, ow, ow’ with every step.  Never mind, it was nice to see Boofuls’ brother and spend some time in the English Riviera. I love Torquay.

It quickly became apparent on holiday that taking a dog away is somewhat more difficult than taking a baby on holiday. Just as much paraphenalia but not as welcome in most places.  That wasn’t a problem when the sun was shining and we could sit outside various cafes and restaurants but became a bit more problematic when it rained.  Thank the lord for canopies, I say!

Does it sound like we had a crap week? We didn’t. We had a lovely time, just not as expected. Pictures will be posted some time soon but now I have to stop chuffing about and get on with catching up on my work.  Bye for now.