Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 In Pictures (Part II)

In April I was mad for The Hunger Games:

And looked like I might have taken part at one point, thanks to my ten year-old niece’s skill with my make-up bag:

May brought sunshine for the first time in 2012, so we cleaned up our garden:

It was just as well the sun came out; Spud was beginning to rot:

Great rejoicing in the Bud house when City won the Premier League Title:

And when our babies turned four:

Spud had his school prom in June:

I had poems displayed in three Bolton shop windows:

We watched the Olympic Flame come through Stockport:

June rained a lot but it brought us the Diamond Jubilee so we didn’t mind:

Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 In Pictures (Part I)

The prompters suggest we use twelve photos to illustrate the year.

Ha!

You will be visited by four posts of photographs, the first to arrive when the clock strikes one…um, make that ten-fifteen.

In January, I talked about hair:

A lot:

A real lot:

February, there was more hair: mostly the lack of it on my side of the family:

The Hub liked February because my readers started a Save The Hub support group, owing to my alleged meanness to him:

I went to Spain in a manky cardi and was goosed by a brass monkey:

I went to the library with my writing group:

March brought one glorious but brief moment of having a clean and uncluttered lounge.  I knew it wouldn’t last so I took a photo to help me through the down days:

And a Happy Mother’s Day wish from my sons:

 

Joke 648

The worse fish (fake!) (Photo credit: The PIX-JOCKEY’s FAKE SHOW by Roberto Rizzato)

What kind of money do fishermen make?

Net profits

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What do you get if you cross a salmon, a bird’s leg and a hand?

Birdsthigh fish fingers

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What TV game show do fish like best?

Name That Tuna

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Where do fish wash?

In a river basin

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What do you call a literary fish?

Salmon Rushdie

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What part of a fish weighs the most?

Its scales

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What fish do road-menders use?

Pneumatic krill

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Who sleeps at the bottom of the sea?

Jack the Kipper

 

Water, Water Everywhere

If there were a real Fountain of Youth, would you drink the water?

Bottled water fills an aisle in a supermarket (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No.  One should drink bottled water in foreign climes, or risk the two bob bits.

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You’re having a nightmare, and have to choose between three doors. Pick one, and tell us about what you find on the other side.

A WordPress Prompter holding a glass of foreign water with my name on it.

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What’s your ideal Saturday morning?

Filling up plastic bottles with our good Manchester tap water.

Are you doing those things this morning?

No.

Why not?

It’s Sunday.

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Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t been able to. 

Dear Mum,

I hope you are comfortable as a pile of ash in a wooden box in the ground in Widnes.

I told you not to drink the water.

Love, Tilly x

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What is your worst quality?

Using my dead mother as a comedy prop.

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Tell us about a time when you had to choose between two options, and you picked the unpopular choice.

I could have chosen not to use my beloved dead mother as a comedy prop for a WordPress prompt post, but I just couldn’t help myself.

I am my dead father’s daughter.

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If you were asked to spend a year living in a different location, where would you choose? 

In the States, under an assumed name after I was hounded out of Britain by outraged mothers who mistook my affectionate ribbing of my mother for a disrespectful poke.

Why the States?

They sell bottled water.

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Joke 647

House on Fire Ruin II (Photo credit: snowpeak)

A jobbing actor comes home to find his house has burned down.  His sobbing, injured wife is standing outside. “What happened, honey?” the man asks.

“Oh, John, it was terrible,” she weeps. “I was cooking, the phone rang.  It was your agent.  Because I was on the phone, I didn’t notice the stove was on fire.  It went up so quickly.  Everything is gone; we’ve lost everything!  I nearly didn’t make it out of the house.  The poor cat is—”

“Wait, wait!  Back up a minute,” the actor says. “My agent called?”

 

Now That The Festive Season Is Over…

…I am enjoying the restive season

My middle-aged bones are not what they were.  I could once prepare for Christmas throughout the whole of December, look after a big house and a small family, host as many as twenty-two people for Christmas Dinner and four grandparents for a week, throw in a New Year’s Eve party with guests sleeping in the lounge, bakkie and their own tent in our large garden, manage the cooking, cleaning and washing, and still wear make up and a big smile at the end of it.

Now, five of us for Christmas Dinner and my legs ache, my back creaks, my tired body slept until nine this morning and make up?  Forget it.  The Hub knows what I look like with a naked face.  If he doesn’t like it, he can hobble through the door.

Roll on grandkids, when my sons can start hosting Christmas.

PS That NYE party when guests camped in our garden?  They woke on New Year’s Day to find their tent smothering them.  Our Doberman had chewed through the ropes in the night.

English: Christmas is over 2 It must have been some kind of party in Gillingham around New Year’s Eve 2010. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For more Six Word Saturdays go here.

Joke 646

There are two fish in a tank.

My 10G Fish Tank (Photo credit: Miwok.)

One turns to the other and says, “Do you know how to drive this?”

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Thanks to Gabrielle Bryden for letting me use this one.

 

Christmas Menu

The Hub usually takes a better picture than this but he was in a hurry for his dinner

As I’ve done nothing but eat since Christmas Eve, I have nothing to tell you.  

Unless I go with what I’ve been eating.  

That’s what I’ll do.

Here is our Christmas Dinner Menu (sans forgotten starter):

• Turkey
• Gammon
• Chicken
• I forgot to put out the sausages, though I did cook them

• Cauliflower (for those who don’t like Cauliflower Cheese)
• Cauliflower Cheese (for those who don’t like cauliflower on its own)
• Broccoli
• Parsnips in honey
• Carrots
• Peas
• Green Beans
• Sprouts
• Mediterranean Vegetable Mix (because it looked tasty)

• Mashed Potatoes (using the good margarine)
• Roast Potatoes (cooked in the meat fat)
• Homemade Yorkshire Puddings (because the Hub prefers them)
• Shop-bought Yorkshire puddings (because Spud prefers them)
• Homemade Gravy (using the meat stock – all three)

• Homemade Apple Pie
• Rhubarb Pie
• Alison’s Fantastic Cheesecake (she always makes a huge one for the Hub at Christmas)
• Chocolate Fudge Cake
• Toblerone Cake
• Frosted Fancies
• Assorted Sponge Cakes
• Bakewell Tarts
• Cream

Is it any wonder I’ve done nothing since Christmas Day?

Apart from our traditional Boxing Day Buffet, that is.  

That list is even longer, so here’s an illustration instead (without puddings):

Boxing Day Savouries

Like a reformed Scrooge, it is always said of me that I know how to keep Christmas well.  If my guests explode when they leave, that’s down to them being guzzleguts.

Joke 645

Cover of Poker Face

How do you make Lady Gaga cry?

Poker face.

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By the comedian Shazia Mirza

 

The Drooping Housewife

Pajama (Photo credit: Ramona.Forcella)

Apologies that I have not yet responded to your comments or visited your blogs.  I am what is technically known as ‘knackered’.  

Quite apart from the Christmas build-up and all the work involved, we have had a lot of (welcome) visitors, including on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day.

Tory Boy arrived late on Sunday night and left at seven this morning – the first time in about six years that he hasn’t worked Christmas Eve and Boxing Day.  I was afraid I would oversleep and miss saying goodbye so of course I woke up every hour and I feel like a zombie this morning.  I managed a couple of hours on the couch, when I fell asleep watching TV.

I have decided to take a pyjama day.  I promise to wash and brush my teeth so I don’t smell, but I’m not getting dressed.  I’m going to catch up on some TV and eat leftovers.

You are welcome to visit, but bring your dressing gown and slippers.

 

Joke 644

The Swimming Cat. (Photo credit: Counselman Collection)

A French Cat, Un Deux Trois, and an English cat, One Two Three, went for a swimming race round a lake.  Who won?

One Two Thee, because Un Deux Trois Quatre Cinq.

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By the comedian Jo Brand

That Was Weird

I had a lovely Christmas Day.

It was weird.

Usually, the boys wake us around seven.  We have never had enough sleep the night before.  For the first time, it was gone eight (that was particularly weird for me – I get up around six every day).

Usually, I insist that discarded wrapping paper goes straight into bags for recycling.  This year, I let it pile up on the floor and the dogs played in it.  The mess was soon cleared up afterwards.

Usually, it takes us about two hours to unwrap all the presents.  We take turns, decipher the clues we have written for each other, and thank the giver.  That didn’t change.  We once spent Christmas with a family who dived in to the presents in a frenzy, opening everything at once.  It took eight people fifteen minutes, tops.  It might be fun but there was no laughter at bad guesses and daft clues, no gratitude from the receiver for the effort made by the giver.  We like to savour our gift-gifting.

Usually, the Hub has to go back to bed for a couple of hours; yesterday, he didn’t, though he did doze on the couch while I made dinner.  That’s normal.

Usually, we don’t walk the dogs on Christmas Day, the only day of the year they don’t get a walk.  Yesterday, because it has rained so much in the last two weeks, we took them out while it wasn’t.  It was the Hub, the Nephew and me.  Lovely.  

It’s not so lovely trying to find dog poo in the dark, but I’ll gloss over that bit.

Usually, we have a starter.  Yesterday, I only remembered it as I was about to dish up, so we didn’t.  No one cared.

Usually, I am a terrible stress head about making Christmas Dinner.  Last year I cried because the roast potatoes were too big.  This year, not only were the roasties perfect, but I didn’t stress at all, timing everything just right.  The only wee bit of stress was when the boys came to help and I had to leave the kitchen while they squabbled about stupid things.  It was liking watching an all-male version of my marriage.

Usually, I finish my dinner, Christmas or otherwise.  Yesterday, I was the only one who didn’t, and who didn’t have seconds.  That’s ten pounds I’ll never put on.

Usually, we pull our crackers after dinner.  Yesterday, because of lack of space, we pulled them first and ate with paper hats on our heads,  Most jolly!

Usually, we watch a film after dinner.  Yesterday, for the first time in years, we didn’t.  We watched Doctor Who – of course – and other Christmas TV specials. Usually, we’re too stuffed to laugh, but The Royle Family took care of that.

Usually, I fall into bed on Christmas night around eleven, as the one and sometimes two glasses of wine kick in.  This year I drank Buck’s Fizz.  A whole bottle, without it going to my head.  Rather impressed with my hard head, I have just looked it up and it is one part alcohol to two parts orange juice…I still have a soft head.

All in all, a lovely day.  I love the routine of Christmas; don’t you?

 

Joke 643

Drunk Zebra Crossing near British Museum (Photo credit: Paul Nicholson)

I’ve been reading some statistics on the most common way people walk when drunk.  

It’s staggering.

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Thanks to my friend Shanaz for this one.

Today

Merry Christmas to all,

and to all a good time!

Joke 642

christmas paint (Photo credit: cassie_bedfordgolf)

Knock knock

Who’s there?

Mary

Mary who?

Mary Christmas!

Nativity (Photo credit: Secret Tenerife)