Tag Archives: Husbands

That Was The Week That Was (II)

22 Aug
The Hub in pre-rabbit days

The Hub before he was brutally savaged by a rabbit

The story so far: one broken husband and one disdainful rabbit combine to make one weary of constant Ow-ow-ows from the Hub.

*

Monday 11 August

My monthly visit to Write Out Loud at the art gallery, an open mic poetry night.

The Hub refused to go to A&E.

*

Tuesday 12 August

Tea and toast with Friend Pam at Olive Café in Edgeley, a joint-church venture which is doing remarkable well.

The Hub refused to go to A&E between his groans.  I began to feel a tad irritated.

*

Wednesday 13 August

The Hub refused to at least visit the doctor but had me feel up his swollen shoulder.  I began to plot ways of making his suffering even worse.

Spud went out to a pre-results party with his friends so they could all be nervous together instead of in their separate homes.

DSCF1367The Hub and I went to church. 

Yes, you did that read that right – the arch-atheist Hub and I went to church.  New Chapel in Denton where, the Hub had discovered via the magic that is the internet, his great-uncle John Ellor, who died in Egypt in 1918, had his name on the Sunday School Roll of Honour for those who died during the Great War.

A wonderful couple – she works as the church secretary – called Christine and Barry pulled out all of the old records and we found lots of relatives from the Hub’s father’s side – and his grandparents’ 1927 marriage certificate.  To actually touch their signatures was emotional even for me, who has no blood connection.  It’s the first time the Hub has had a good time in church since he married me 29 years ago.

Ah!  Just realised why he’s never been back…

2:15 a.m.

I woke up to hear the Hub creeping downstairs…on his way to A&E to get his swelling checked out.  He was in agony and unable to sleep.  It was worth going in the middle of the night to avoid the I-told-you-sos, and because it took less than an hour for the Hub to be checked over, x-rayed and told that his scapula might be broken but he was so badly bruised that it was impossible to tell.  Take ibuprofen and try not to be too smug in your wife’s face or you might end up back here with  a definite broken scapula.

*

Thursday 14 August

Morning

Made with love

Made with love

Results day.  Spud arrived home exhausted but too excited to sleep; and starving.  He had a breakfast of 2 eggs and 3 toast followed by 6 lots of cheese and crackers.

Spud slept all day.

Evening

Spud’s friends arrived for drinks-before-the-real-boozing-starts-in-town (Manchester) celebration.  We have known most of the boys for the last seven years and they are a lovely lot, so we cracked open a bottle of champagne with them, drinking from paper cups because Spud insisted.  Then we went off to bed and they went out about ten p.m.

*

Pre-drinks before the real drinks

Pre-drinks before the real drinks

Friday 15 August

6:05 a.m.

Spud crept in.  Spud slept all day.

9:15 a.m.  I went out for the day to Llandudno, on the church charabanc. 

I went on a boat!  A three-year old girl loved it; her older brother screamed the whole time. 

I went on the beach as the tide came in.  So I wasn’t on the beach for long.

A beautiful Welsh beach

A beautiful Welsh beach

I went on the country’s longest pier – a mile and a half, I think. 

I went on the tuppeny slots, just like I did on Welsh holidays as a child. 

I discovered you can’t slice a scone without a knife but it tastes just as good when buttered, creamed and jammed with a spoon. 

I got home at six-thirty and I was in bed thirty minutes later.*

If I'd had the money, I would have bought the boys - all three of them - one each of these onesies

If I’d had the money, I would have bought the boys – all three of them – one each of these onesies

Saturday 16 August

Tory Boy phoned: I’m at the hospital with suspected appendicitis.

*

Come back soon for the final, exciting instalment – is Tory Boy fit to burst?

 

That Was The Week That Was (I)

19 Aug

 

Such a good looking boy...

Such a good looking boy…

Hello Readers.

I don’t know if you remember me – I used to blog.  I’ve been so busy lately, however, I haven’t had a chance – well, we’ve had a couple of weeks here at Tilly Bud Towers!  A bruised scapula from chasing a rabbit; a septic appendix; and a hysterical teenager.  Not to mention exam results and poetry readings.  I’ll break it down into diary form or it will take up a third of the page just to repeat, ‘…and on Suchaday we…’  It will probably take a couple of days to regale you – you know I can never make a long story less than Lord of the Rings length.

Saturday 9 August

In the week prior to a week-last-Saturday, First World War anniversary fever hit me hard.  The Hub, Spud and I attended a candlelit walk around the park on Monday 4th, along with several hundred others, following a piper and six flag-wielding WWII veterans.  A short service followed before the Last Post was played, and all candles were extinguished at eleven p.m., to signal the moment one hundred years ago when Britain began to be at war with Germany.  It was incredibly moving.

I don’t know if my non-Brit readers know the story of Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey, but it is worth repeating:

A friend came to see me on one of the evenings of the last week [...]. We were standing at a window of my room in the Foreign Office. It was getting dusk, and the lamps were being lit in the space below on which we were looking. My friend recalls that I remarked on this with the words: “The lamps are going out all over Europe, we shall not see them lit again in our life-time.”

From Grey’s memoir, published in 1925

DSCF1354To commemorate the start of the war, my church held an open morning with the theme, The Lamps Are Going Out.  As I was one of two people organising it, I spent the whole week working with my friend Pam The Great Administrator (she’s amazing and must only be spoken of in capital letters in my hearing) to collect artefacts, set up a slide show, arrange for costumes, rehearse poems and heavily promote the event.  The last bit worked especially well because we more than quadrupled our usual Saturday morning numbers.  Actually, it was even more than that, only I don’t know the correct term for ‘five times as many people came into church than is usual’.

We expected two tables of old bits on display but we had six.  Some people brought a table’s worth alone, and stayed with their stuff to chat to visitors and explain the (fascinating) history.

Pam baked delicious Anzac biscuits.  The children decorated glass candle holders.  We had period music playing in the background.  And Spud and I gave two readings of poems written between 1914-1919.  The whole event was a huge success, not least because it reminded us of what was sacrificed, at home and abroad.  Spud remarked to me that, as he was just eighteen, if he’d been born a hundred years ago he would probably have been off to war with all of his pals.  A sobering thought.DSCN3284

Sunday 10 August

Morning

Church followed by Stockport Writers.  It was my turn to chair.  I wanted to take the August meeting so I could use the theme, The Start of the War.  I hadn’t considered, three months earlier when I put down my name, that it came back-to-back with yesterday’s event and I woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of Thursday night, realising that I had nothing prepared.  Two hours and one irritable Molly later, it was done: I pared fictional and actual events down to their bare essentials – e.g. the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand became An angry teenager with a gun - and used them as prompts.

Afternoon

I had been in five minutes and had just poured boiling water into three mugs when there was a knock at the door.  A neighbour had seen a runaway rabbit and called at my house because I was on the corner and therefore would probably know who it belonged to.  With logic like that, it’s hard to believe we can win a raffle, never mind two world wars.

Still, I’m a sucker for a scared pie filling so I went out to help, calling for my pretty assistant the Hub to come along: animals love him and if anyone could catch it, it would be him.

Turns out anyone couldn’t catch it, including the Hub – it sat in a shrubbery patch, snaffling the carrots we used to entice it and ignoring the umbrella-thrashing we gave the bushes in an attempt to frighten it out.  The last we heard, it had eloped with a runaway pig and they had set up home in Tamworth.

The poor Hub didn’t have such a lucky escape: it was raining and he slipped on some cobbles, landing flat – hard! – on his back and breaking his watch, to the amusement of those neighbours who had come out to watch us chase the rabbit but felt no need to join in.  Or to help him up.

When I got him back inside, Spud was in a spin: having had a late night, he had only just got up.  He came downstairs to find half-made tea, still warm; the car in the drive; the back door unlocked; but no parents.  He tried calling us but our phones rang inside the house…he was creeped out like only a half-asleep teen with a vivid imagination can be.  The Hub would have laughed if it hadn’t hurt so much; but he refused to go to the hospital.

The Hub wasting away because of my neglect

The Hub wasting away because of my neglect

*

Tune in again – date to be determined because the excitement is still ongoing.

Coming soon: A day trip to Wales

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Part Prompt/Two Parts Silly

28 May

 

Click on the image for source

If you were one part human, two parts something else — another animal, a plant, an inanimate object — what would the other two parts be?

Before I started my weight loss programme (not a diet; I don’t do diets), I was one part human/two parts Maltesers.  Now, I am mostly one part human/two parts hungry.

The Hub says I am one part human/two parts vampire i.e. sucked the life right out of him.

Scratch that, he didn’t say anything of the sort.  But he did offer to slice me open to find out.  Consider me one part grateful/two parts terrified.

*

Here’s a prompt response I found in my drafts folder:

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT! What’s your favorite way to spend Saturday night?

A movie, a large packet of cheese & onion crisps and a glass or three of JC Le Roux’s La Chanson.

I’m writing this post at seven-thirty on Saturday night, in bed with a hot water bottle.  No, the Hub is not giving me the cold shoulder because I was mean about him one too many times (like there’s a limit…); I sneezed today and put out my back.  The power of snot.

Talking of my favourite wine, Number One Son bought me a bottle for Mother’s Day.  Then helped me drink it.

Now he’s Number Two Son.

*

Think about an object, an activity, or a cultural phenomenon you really don’t like. Now write a post (tongue in cheek or not — your call!) about why it’s the best thing ever.

Writing responses to WordPress prompts is the best thing ever because it allows me to make fun of the most off-the-wall people on the planet.

No, really.  They are as much fun as dieting.

*

Your local electronics store has just started selling time machines, anywhere doors, and invisibility helmets. You can only afford one. Which of these do you buy, and why?

I think I’d buy the invisibility helmet.  I like the idea of walking around scaring people when they see a headless body.

And think of how much weight loss that adds to my non-diet…  No one can call me fathead any more!

*

The friendly, English-speaking extraterrestrial you run into outside your house is asking you to recommend the one book, movie, or song that explains what humans are all about. What do you pick?

Of course, it would be an alien that spoke to my headless body, wouldn’t it? Because it wouldn’t know I was weird.

And the book – as you regular readers must surely know – would have to be Ender’s Game, in which we earthlings kick some alien butt.

Damn aliens, coming over here and stealing all our humanity.

*

When you do something scary or stressful — bungee jumping, public speaking, etc. — do you prefer to be surrounded by friends or by strangers? Why?

I prefer to be safe in my bedroom, not jumping off or on to platforms, thank you very much.

You are all welcome to crowd in, of course; but I get the window side of the bed.

*

You’ve been given the superpower to change one law of nature. How do you use it?

Crisps and Maltesers would be one of my five-a-day.

Do you not know me at all, WordPress?

*

What’s the one guilty pleasure you have that’s so good, you no longer feel guilty about it?

Tormenting WordPress Prompters.

Oh, and breaking wind…there’s no smell, now I eat properly.

What?  Nobody comes here for the dainty English refinement – you know that, right?

More On Doors

5 Mar

I remember another time a doorway exchange caused some confusion.

We were living in South Africa and we had a dog who had given birth to five puppies but who had no interest in caring for them.  She escaped at every opportunity and the Hub was at his wits’ end (admittedly, he didn’t have far to go), trying to persuade her to feed her pups.  

One warm Saturday morning (so, any Saturday morning; this was South Africa), Scamp sneaked out again and the Hub, watering the garden, spotted her doing her snake impression across the kitchen threshold.

We had new neighbours.  Their first impression of the kind of people we are – misogynistic husband; downtrodden wife – came when next door’s wife heard my husband scream, ‘Get in the house and look after your babies, you stupid b****.’

Warning: This Blog Is About To Get All Soppy*

14 Feb

*Which is so out of character, I seriously considered starting yet another blog, for my weak days.

Today is St Valentine’s Day.  The Hub and I never celebrate it.  He’s thoughtful of and caring towards me.  He gives me love notes, flowers and little gifts all year round.   You’ve heard me boast about it.  He can also be a great big jerk sometimes, but that’s marriage for you.

The Hub doesn’t believe in St Valentine’s Day.  He thinks that people shouldn’t need a special day  to show their love; they should show it all the time.

That puts me in a bit of pickle: I’m not a romantic like the Hub and my way of showing my love is not spitting in his dinner when I’m mad at him.  He doesn’t think that’s particularly in my favour.

So, I did what I always do when I’m confronted with an emotional conundrum: I wrote a poem. Enjoy, and don’t think too badly of me.

*

What’s Love?

For Paul, the love of my life

 

What’s love?
It’s your hand holding the sick bowl, wiping my face.
It’s crying for someone who gave you a lifetime of grief;
because I loved her and you love me. It’s letting me hate you in
hormonal periods. It’s sitting, sweating in your undies
because I’m cold and won the fight over the central heating.
It’s playing taxi. It’s calming me on kitchen days. It’s buying
takeaways when the wallet can’t take it but soothing failed.
It’s tolerating my beliefs, so crazy to you. It’s your gift of two
beloved boys, knowing they displaced you, and not caring.
It’s golf balls at Christmas and Shakespeare at fifty.
It’s doing what I ask when you really don’t want to.
It’s putting me first.
It’s time, not money.
Sometimes, it’s money.
It’s the everyday ordinary and the occasionally sublime.
It’s blaming the world for my setbacks, when you know it’s
really me. It’s sending me to South Africa, France, Widnes.
It’s love notes in my laptop, my diary, the fridge.
It’s accepting my fat. It’s rejoicing when I’m slim.
It’s rocking a colicky baby all night then working all day.
It’s no sleep. It’s sore feet.
It’s working too hard, too long, too far away.
It’s coming home again. It’s trust. It’s not eating burgers
because there’s steak at home. It’s knowing what matters.
It’s hard times, unhappy times, tragic times.
It’s staying together.
It’s you and me, two kids and thirty years.
It’s you.
That’s love.

*

*

That’s got to pay off at least a year’s supply of hearts written on milk bottles, hasn’t it?

Happy Thanksgiving

28 Nov

From ahajokes

We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in the UK but I have had lots of nice news lately so I saved it up for today.

Tory Boy was headhunted

He received a phone call out of the blue from the office of the MP he helped get elected in Lancaster in 2010, offering him a job.

Although he loves working in production, he’s fed up where he’s living because he works peculiar hours and hasn’t had a chance to make friends; and he’s still in lodgings at 23.  As he intends to have a political career at some point, it seems like a good move; particularly as he has lots of friends in Lancaster and knows the area well.  

Of course, the job is only guaranteed for eighteen months, because there’s an election coming up.  If ever there was an incentive to get someone re-elected, it’s having him as your boss.  He was smart to hire TB.

He will be home for a week before starting his new job in mid-December.  That’s the bit I really like.

Spud had his first offer

Of a place at University, from  Birmingham.  He is delighted, although Sheffield is his first choice.

Birmingham is a good university.  The only negative is that he’s afraid he might start speaking with the local accent.  The thought horrifies him.

I found a lump

Which turned out to be another lymph node.

It is ALWAYS better to get these things checked.  You will avoid unnecessary anguish and sleepless nights.

Today is my brother’s birthdayKev & Jabba

Happy birthday, Brother-who-never-reads-my-blog; and congratulations on surviving childhood with me for a sister.

You readers all know me as a good girl; but when we were kids our parents owned a little grocery shop.  Bwnrmb and I slept in one attic and boxes of crisps slept in the other.  Having two years’ seniority, I used to send him to forage for our midnight feasts…and I never got caught…

I don’t mind saying ‘sorry’ now, because he won’t read my apology (he ranks somewhere in the region of the Hub in my list of people I can offend without a thought).

Sorry for all the spankings you took on my behalf.

Not.

Doctor Who

The fiftieth anniversary episode: The Day of the Doctor.

Need I say more?

Amazon

In Protest: 150 Poems for Human Rights

My complimentary copy arrived.  I read it.  Powerful, moving, evocative and provocative.

I feel honoured to be included.  

I learned two new words

I love them:

snollygoster   Noun: Slang. a clever, unscrupulous person

borborygmus  Noun: a rumbling or gurgling sound caused by the movement of gas in the intestines

Perfect descriptions of the uninvited guest on Thanksgiving, don’t you think?

Amazon

Writing Our Faith

Another book I’m in…and the editor used my piku on the back cover. Shriek!

The Hub

Because he’s a great husband.

But you know the drill…don’t tell him I said so.

eattt fanksgiving

eattt fanksgiving (Photo credit: jelene)

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Joke 976

24 Nov
Marital Blitz (1959) ... Top Tracks for Rod St...

Marital Blitz (1959) … Top Tracks for Rod Stewart …item 1c.. Maggie May …item 2.. How to keep your marriage vibrant after many years. (December 16, 2012 / 3 Tevet 5773) … (Photo credit: marsmet546)

“Honey,” says a husband to his wife, “I invited a friend home for supper.”

“What? Are you crazy? The house is a mess. I haven’t been shopping, all the dishes are dirty, and I don’t feel like cooking a fancy meal!”

“I know all that.”

“Then why did you invite a friend for supper?”

“Because the poor fool’s thinking about getting married.” 

*

From ajokeaday.com

Joke 935

14 Oct
Never, ever, think outside the box

Never, ever, think outside the box (Photo credit: Mrs eNil)

A man looks at his wife of 25 years and says, “Honey, 25 years ago we had a cheap apartment, a cheap car, slept on a sofa bed and watched a 10-inch black and white TV; but I got to sleep with a hot 25 year-old blonde every night.  Now we have a $300,000.00 house, a $50,000.00 car, a nice big bed and plasma screen TV; but I am sleeping with a 50 year-old woman.  It seems to me that you are not holding up your side of things.”

The wife, being a reasonable woman, said, “Go out and find a hot 25 year-old blonde…and I will make sure that you, once again, will be living in a cheap apartment, driving a cheap car, sleeping on a sofa bed and watching a 10-inch black and white TV.”

*

From Jokes Monday

Weekly Photo Challenge Catch-Up

12 Sep

Checking my Daily Prompt folder, I discovered I have 224 prompts to answer.  I thought I’d better make a start.

WPC: Curves

The Hub and I celebrated his 21st birthday in our second home.  We had been married four months and still had our figures:

Paul's 21st 6 Cortosa 1985 1

WPC: Fleeting

My love for the Hub was fleeting.  It lasted as long as the time it took to develop this photograph:

Pauls21st1985004

WPC: The World Through My Eyes

I see the world through eyes that are still this young:

Pauls21st1985002

WPC: Companionable

We have always been companionable, so long as I tell him what to do and he does it:

Paul's 21st 6 Cortosa 1985 2

In return, I have to wear a green headdress at all times.

WPC: Foreshadow

Here’s a foreshadowing of our relationship:

Pulsarcrash1987001

WPC: An Unusual Point Of View

Here’s an unusual point of view – the Hub is telling me what to do:

Paul Linda UK Germany holiday 1988

Don’t worry: it was only which section of the paper I could have.  Natural order was soon restored:

PaulBikeAccident1987001

Joke 880

20 Aug
Difference between Men and Women

Difference between Men and Women (Photo credit: -LucaM- Photography WWW.LUCAMOGLIA.IT)

  • When women are depressed they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. It’s a whole different way of thinking.
  • When a man gives his opinion, he’s a man. When a woman gives her opinion, she’s a bitch.
  • Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Dogs are a man’s best friend. Now you know which sex is smarter.
  • The only way to understand a woman is to love her – and then it isn’t necessary to understand her.
  • To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot and love him a little. To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.
  • A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn’t. A man marries a woman expecting that she won’t change and she does.
  • Men marry because they are tired; women because they are curious. Both are disappointed.
  • A woman will always cherish the memory of the man who wanted to marry her; a man, of the woman who he didn’t.
  • There are two times when a man doesn’t understand a woman – before marriage and after marriage.
  • Only two things are necessary to keep a wife happy. One is to let her think she is having her own way, and the other is to let her have it.
  • Married men live longer than single men do, but married men are a lot more willing to die.
  • Any married man should forget his mistakes – no use two people remembering the same thing.
  • Some husbands are living proof that a woman can take a joke.
  • A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
  • If you women knew what we were thinking, you’d never stop slapping us.
  • Can you imagine a world without men? No crime and lots of happy fat women.

From hehe.at

 

Why The Globe Is The Best Theatre In The World

13 Aug
Shakespeare's Globe, London (rebuilt 1997)

Shakespeare’s Globe, London (rebuilt 1997) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We interrupt our scheduled post to bring you this breaking news:

The Globe rocks.

Before we went to London, the Hub phoned the Globe on the QT and asked them, as it was my fiftieth birthday treat, if they would arrange for the cast to sign my pre-paid-for Macbeth programme.

The Globe said it would see what it could do.

I used my voucher to collect my programme in the shop instead of the box office, not knowing about the Hub’s request.

The Hub asked me about my programme when I got home: cue sadness all round when the plot was discovered to have gone awry.

The Globe, being the Best Theatre In The World, wasn’t having that and, without a word from us, popped the programme in the post.  It arrived this morning.

The Globe really does rock.  And so does the Hub.

Click on the photos to see close ups.

Blogging, The Happy Medium

8 Aug
London

London (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Write up a mid-year “State of My Year” post.

Finally, a prompt I can take seriously!

My year has been great.  I’ve done lots of fun things, including several visits from people who I had never met before they arrived; but we all finished the visits as fast friends.  Though one finish couldn’t come fast enough, if you know what I mean…*

*I’m kidding.  Everyone was lovely; you know

London

London (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

I can’t resist the easy joke.

I’ve been to the theatre five times; eaten in restaurants at least four times – three of them in the space of a week.  I didn’t eat out three times in the previous three years but I made up for it in July.

I’ve had a fair few poems published this year. I finished editing my South African poem collection.  I gave a poetry recital and I’ve got two more planned for next month, as well as a workshop I’m going to run.  I’ve signed up for a local creative writing course in September.  I got my blogging addiction under control; so much so, I practically gave it up for a while, but now I’ve found a happy medium.

My boys are doing well.  Tory Boy enjoys his job; he’s coming home for ten days for my birthday (oh, and the Hub’s).  Spud was in three plays in six months and had the lead in two of them (I will never tire of boasting about that).  He had his first paid acting gig (a post will follow when he sends me some photos).

My husband really loves me.  So much, in fact, that he’s sending me away.   That’s where I am now, as you read this – in London with Spud.  Speaking of dead weight, I’ve lost over a stone.

My year so far is gooooooooooooooood.  Though I do miss Maltesers.

London Underground

London Underground (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Is the glass half-full, or half-empty?

The glass is brimming over and making a mess on the table.

London underground

London underground (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Tell us about a time where everything you’d hoped would happen actually did.

My husband offered to send me away and then made sure he did.

Oh, sorry; I didn’t realise it was supposed to be about me.

A multi segment panoramic image of the London ...

A multi segment panoramic image of the London skyline from the Bermondsey banks of the Thames. Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When you gaze out your window — real or figurative — do you see the forest first, or the trees?

I see the tiny back gardens as I whizz past on the London Express.

So, not so much trees and forest as wet washing and cement.

Globe Theatre - London

Globe Theatre – London (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We each have many types of love relationships — parents, children, spouses, friends. And they’re not always with people; you may love an animal, or a place. Is there a single idea or definition that runs through all the varieties of “love”?

Unselfishness.

Thank you, darling Hub, for this trip; for making sure I have a special treat for a milestone birthday; for making my dream come true.  I love you.

So much so, I might be nice to you when I get home; if I’m not too tired or menopausal, that is…oh…wait…I see why I’m being sent away….

Shakespeare's Globe Theatre

Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre (Photo credit: n_willsey)

 

Joke 861

1 Aug
Boat-plank illustration

Boat-plank illustration (Photo credit: HikingArtist.com)

Apologies for the formatting; I’m not sure what’s going on and I can’t fix it.

Gordon died.  His wife Susan went to the local paper to put a notice in the obituaries. The gentleman at the counter, after offering his condolences, asked Susan what she would like to say about Gordon.

Susan replied, “You just put, ‘Gordon died.'”

The gentleman, somewhat perplexed, said, “That’s it? Just ‘Gordon died?’  Surely, there must be something more you’d like to say about Gordon. If it’s money you’re concerned about, the first five words are free. We really should say something more.”

Susan pondered for a few minutes and finally said, “O.K. then. You put ‘Gordon died. Yacht for sale.’ “

*

Another one from yachtpals

Globe Trotter

31 Jul

And so the 50th birthday celebrations continue!

First of all, an illustration:

You’ll find more illustrations like this at Mark’s blog.  Hit the pic to access it.

That’s my way of saying ‘thank you’ to everyone who offered me a place to stay if I could get there.

I can’t tell you how touched I was by your generous offers; or how desperately the Hub tried to make it happen (a little too desperate for my liking; but that’s an earbashing for another day).

Finances, however, want me to celebrate in modest style; and so I will have to decline your kind offers.  I’m so sad about that.  Thank you, thank you, thank you all!

The Hub, keen to get me out of the house, won’t let me be sad for long,  He has managed to make me deliriously happy on a budget and without Maltesers: I’m going to London to visit the Queen.

The Scottish Queen, that is; from centuries ago: Lady Macbeth.

Okay, that was a long-winded, round-the-houses, you-readers-have-a-life-you-know way of saying that I’m going to watch Macbeth at the Globe!  The Globe! The Globe!

A reconstruction of the Globe Theatre in Londo...

A reconstruction of the Globe Theatre in London, originally built in 1599 and used by Shakespeare (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been once before and it is on my bucket list to do again.  In fact, it will always be on my bucket list; I will never get enough of the Globe.

The Hub is not going with me, but fear not – I won’t get lost in London because Spud will be there to hold my hand.  We will take the train (a two-hour express) down next week Thursday; see some sights; and then book into our hotel-come-hostel-come-student digs thing (told you we were on a budget).  We could have saved more money by taking our own bedding but I don’t want to carry it for two days.

I will get no sleep because I’ll be too excited but I’ll manage the breakfast they promise; and then we will head to the theatre for our tour and exhibition (pre-paid), before standing as groundlings.  Groundlings pay a fiver to stand (often in the rain) to watch the show.  It’s the only way to experience the Globe – I had a seat last time but gave it up to be a groundling, squeezing in to lean on the stage during the second half of the performance.

I have so much to look forward to: flea pit hotel; theatre pit in the rain; smelly armpits if it’s sunny (menopause symptoms stink).  

I have the best husband!

 

Joke 847

18 Jul
All teeth

All teeth (Photo credit: Garrette)

An alien boy and his father were visiting earth and found themselves in a mall. They were amazed by almost everything they saw, but especially by two shiny, silver walls that could move apart and back together again.

The boy asked his father, “What is this, Father?” The father, never having  seen an elevator, responded, “Son, I have never seen anything like this in my life, I don’t know what it is.”

While the boy and his father were watching wide-eyed, an old lady in a wheel chair rolled up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls opened and the lady rolled between them into a small room.

The walls closed and the boy and his father watched small circles of lights with numbers above the walls light up. They continued to watch the circles light up in the reverse direction.

The walls opened up again and a beautiful young woman stepped out. The father said to his son, “Go get your mother.”

*

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