I wrote the following a long time past and though the haircolour isn't factual I can say My wife and I often frequented the same early morning "discotheques".
I must also for completeness state that certain names have been changed to protect the "perhaps" innocent!
The Wife.
When the Question came forth,
I pondered a moment, and answered with a smile,
Oh! I work for a firm of Accountants,
A deathly hush hung, like a lead balloon around my feet,
The ears of the status grabbing dolly,
And the money grabbing mutton, flapped openly in the breeze,
Only there was no breeze,
Except for Hector trying quietly to disgorge his nasal passages,
I breathed uneasily and tried nonchalantly to change ground,
And what are you doing now?
Trying my best to avoid an Accountant,
Said the gritted teeth and forced answer,
Replying with some airy fairy story, the conversation turned,
I replied with what I thought was a modicum of humour,
‘Open to offers’, ha, ha,
The feet are shifting uneasily now,
Still at home?
Er, yes,
Can’t you tell by the tank top, corduroy trousers and Ken Clarke brogues,
Silence.
Would you like a drink?
I’d be delighted and Tracy and Noreen ‘ll have a pint of cider,
So, as I return three stone lighter, feeling like a sheep at shearing,
I’m offered a cigarette,
Refusing I sit and peruse my orange juice,
I feel the burning of eyes,
And turn to find Nelly Mutton bearing down on me,
Her treble chin singing a sonata,
And her heavily Polyfilla’d face cracking under the strain,
I turn to the girls,
In relief they’ve fled to the safety of the dance floor,
Searching the bar for refuge of any kind,
I find the boys are taking turns emptying the young ones guts down the lavvie,
So you’re an Accountant?
The ‘come to bed’ eyes and the pleadings of interest,
Drive a wedge in my brain,
What kind?
Certified!
I’d ‘bloody’ have to be,
So as I made my excuses and headed for the door,
A most beautiful redhead who entered as I did,
Happened to depart,
By the way have you met the Wife?
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Friday, 22 August 2008
Medalling or is it Meddling
Ever wondered how the English language develops or retards itself, just listen to the commentators at the Olympics, particularly those from across the water.
I'm sure the Oxford English will have if not now, certainly for 2012, the following verbs:
medal, meddle- to gain a lump of metal in a choice of three shiny colours particularly at worldwide sporting events such as School sports days, a mother in laws raison detre( though I might add mine is excluded from this definition!).
Podium - to medal and as appropriate survive elf and safety concerns by mounting various steps of differing heights without assistance.
Gold- The medal we Brits seem to have gained more of by some considerable margin than those ever so sporty chaps from the Antipodes!
I'm sure there are many more that will and can be put forward probably referring to the glories of those paid little to bring glory to our nation, in contrast to the definition for England Football Team- overpaid prima donnas with little passion, skill or will power. (that's done it guaranteed we'll win the world cup now!)
Friday, 15 August 2008
Doing something good
I've been thinking a lot lately (which as you would expect hurt quite a bit) about doing something good.
I don't mean being good, like not eating the 45th scone with cream and jam on, or making sure the car is clean, or not driving over the speed limit.
I don't mean doing something exciting, though it could be,
I mean doing something intrinsically good for both myself and fellow human beings, and I'm not looking to make a grand gesture (done that see Jogle) or give money by the bucket load (always heading towards being a bit short on that front, like everyone else).
So I had a thunk, and a think and rattled the old grey matter and thought what could I do, and then it struck me that I (we) had been through an experience that a lot of people had and that my actions at the time might help someone else if I shared them.
In 2005, as you may well know, we suffered through the pain of miscarriage and as a result I wrote a poem as a release from my personal pain. I wrote it for me totally selfishly and to get me through a particularly rough time and never considered it for any other purpose.
So having done my thinking I have sent my poem to the miscarriage association, the website details of which are shown below and they have considered it worthy of publishing, (see the support section). I've looked on the website and can safely say that they do a brilliant job with little or no recognition,(I certainly wasn't aware of their existence).
My thought for today though is whatever you can do, even if it is merely helping an elderly person across the road (of course ask them if they wish to cross first) please do it, you never know who you might help or how someone will benefit, but I do know that it makes you feel good!
www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk
I don't mean being good, like not eating the 45th scone with cream and jam on, or making sure the car is clean, or not driving over the speed limit.
I don't mean doing something exciting, though it could be,
I mean doing something intrinsically good for both myself and fellow human beings, and I'm not looking to make a grand gesture (done that see Jogle) or give money by the bucket load (always heading towards being a bit short on that front, like everyone else).
So I had a thunk, and a think and rattled the old grey matter and thought what could I do, and then it struck me that I (we) had been through an experience that a lot of people had and that my actions at the time might help someone else if I shared them.
In 2005, as you may well know, we suffered through the pain of miscarriage and as a result I wrote a poem as a release from my personal pain. I wrote it for me totally selfishly and to get me through a particularly rough time and never considered it for any other purpose.
So having done my thinking I have sent my poem to the miscarriage association, the website details of which are shown below and they have considered it worthy of publishing, (see the support section). I've looked on the website and can safely say that they do a brilliant job with little or no recognition,(I certainly wasn't aware of their existence).
My thought for today though is whatever you can do, even if it is merely helping an elderly person across the road (of course ask them if they wish to cross first) please do it, you never know who you might help or how someone will benefit, but I do know that it makes you feel good!
www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk
Monday, 11 August 2008
Minor inconveniences
Have you ever had one of those months were everything seems to happen in slow motion with just a little bit of inconvenience thrown in?
Guess what August is that month! So far I have lost my wallet (in London) including all credit cards, debit cards, stamps etc and return train ticket from said Capital city, left my keys in the door and gone to work, and enjoyed a barbecue in the rain.
Having thought about it the last one is just an English summer!
Everything is as if it is on hold and somebody is taking the wee wee at the controls, almost weirdly it's as if I can see the results I want but not how I get there, which is very odd for August.
I have a solution let's just start the month afresh with a smile, a laugh and just go for it,
All together now, repeat the mantra for a slow motion month,
Bugger it, Bugger it, Bugger it, I'll sort it myself!
or if you prefer if the mountain won't come to Mohammad, then.....
Guess what August is that month! So far I have lost my wallet (in London) including all credit cards, debit cards, stamps etc and return train ticket from said Capital city, left my keys in the door and gone to work, and enjoyed a barbecue in the rain.
Having thought about it the last one is just an English summer!
Everything is as if it is on hold and somebody is taking the wee wee at the controls, almost weirdly it's as if I can see the results I want but not how I get there, which is very odd for August.
I have a solution let's just start the month afresh with a smile, a laugh and just go for it,
All together now, repeat the mantra for a slow motion month,
Bugger it, Bugger it, Bugger it, I'll sort it myself!
or if you prefer if the mountain won't come to Mohammad, then.....
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Madness
Why oh Why oh Why????
Why is it that sporting bureaucracies such as the England Cricket team never learn.
Is the destruction of Botham, Flintoff et al not enough??
Why take away the very essence of your best player by making them think!
They are not capable, like all geniuses, they do not think about what they are doing they merely play, so why, why , why give them the captaincy???
I hope for all our sakes that KP keeps his nuts and doesn't as those before become a grey shadow of their former selves.
P.S. Although Michael Vaughan was past it as a player and is another in essence destroyed by the captaincy, even for a Lancy you have to say the boy done good!!
Why is it that sporting bureaucracies such as the England Cricket team never learn.
Is the destruction of Botham, Flintoff et al not enough??
Why take away the very essence of your best player by making them think!
They are not capable, like all geniuses, they do not think about what they are doing they merely play, so why, why , why give them the captaincy???
I hope for all our sakes that KP keeps his nuts and doesn't as those before become a grey shadow of their former selves.
P.S. Although Michael Vaughan was past it as a player and is another in essence destroyed by the captaincy, even for a Lancy you have to say the boy done good!!
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Summer Daze
A cloud like a cotton wool duck, sailed gracefully across a turquoise sky,
The dashing flit of a house martin blinked past,
Bumble bees spread pollen drunkenly from stamen to stamen,
The sun peered shyly over the horizon,
And the wind sighed gently from time to time,
The sweet smelling sound of willow on leather echoed the clink of tankards,
Children playing and the lovers’ laughter failed to disturb the maiden deep in her novel,
The boats on the river ebbed upon the tide and the eight sped past,
A Peacock his fan bared for all to see, strutted as a landlord on his domain,
The man with the camera peered in through the window of the antiquarian book shop,
And humming a simple tune the busker thanked his latest patron,
The bus driver, shirt sleeves rolled in nonchalant fashion, drew away from the stop,
At the same time a student head bowed in concentration, worked on,
Butterflies lay basking upon the nettles,
As sun worshippers lounged upon an emulsioned beach,
The sparrows ran squawking into the dust baths in the borders by the roses,
The ladybirds sampled the green fly,
Ice cream cornets sang as they filled with the chocolate from the ninety nine,
The stranger listened as the bobby in his peaked cap gave him directions,
A young woman in a floral sun dress pushed a laden pram among the cobbles,
As the horse and trap clattered state like behind,
The bells on the church steeple climbed the hour,
And graves full of long gone memories stood silent below,
A stoat his mouth stuffed full with rabbit hurried home,
The salesman sat, mobile phone glued to his ear and perspired in his air conditioned car,
As the berries on the hedgerow ripened,
And I sat quietly the great oak shading me and watched.
Racing
The dashing flit of a house martin blinked past,
Bumble bees spread pollen drunkenly from stamen to stamen,
The sun peered shyly over the horizon,
And the wind sighed gently from time to time,
The sweet smelling sound of willow on leather echoed the clink of tankards,
Children playing and the lovers’ laughter failed to disturb the maiden deep in her novel,
The boats on the river ebbed upon the tide and the eight sped past,
A Peacock his fan bared for all to see, strutted as a landlord on his domain,
The man with the camera peered in through the window of the antiquarian book shop,
And humming a simple tune the busker thanked his latest patron,
The bus driver, shirt sleeves rolled in nonchalant fashion, drew away from the stop,
At the same time a student head bowed in concentration, worked on,
Butterflies lay basking upon the nettles,
As sun worshippers lounged upon an emulsioned beach,
The sparrows ran squawking into the dust baths in the borders by the roses,
The ladybirds sampled the green fly,
Ice cream cornets sang as they filled with the chocolate from the ninety nine,
The stranger listened as the bobby in his peaked cap gave him directions,
A young woman in a floral sun dress pushed a laden pram among the cobbles,
As the horse and trap clattered state like behind,
The bells on the church steeple climbed the hour,
And graves full of long gone memories stood silent below,
A stoat his mouth stuffed full with rabbit hurried home,
The salesman sat, mobile phone glued to his ear and perspired in his air conditioned car,
As the berries on the hedgerow ripened,
And I sat quietly the great oak shading me and watched.
Racing
Reverse Psychology
All I have to say is don't read the rest of this post it's drivel!!!
Have you ever noticed the huge positive of saying to someone you "must" do something, whether it be, come home on time, eat your tea, or dance a foxtrot.
Inevitably the answer will be that the exact opposite will be done!
Simple fact of human nature, it damages our egos something chronic if we aren't allowed to make our own decisions.
Why was I not told this before I had kids! Or more to the point why is it never explained that a child has an ego from the age of 3 weeks!
It's damned hard work having to think in reverse psychology land to get anything done, in fact so much so that I'm thinking of writing a book entitled Stick out your bottom lip or throw yourself to the ground, (101 reasons to drive a parent mad) and that's just what I did to my Mum, never mind what my boys are up to.
Did it work? Have you got to here? If you have let me know and I'll make that reason 102!
Have you ever noticed the huge positive of saying to someone you "must" do something, whether it be, come home on time, eat your tea, or dance a foxtrot.
Inevitably the answer will be that the exact opposite will be done!
Simple fact of human nature, it damages our egos something chronic if we aren't allowed to make our own decisions.
Why was I not told this before I had kids! Or more to the point why is it never explained that a child has an ego from the age of 3 weeks!
It's damned hard work having to think in reverse psychology land to get anything done, in fact so much so that I'm thinking of writing a book entitled Stick out your bottom lip or throw yourself to the ground, (101 reasons to drive a parent mad) and that's just what I did to my Mum, never mind what my boys are up to.
Did it work? Have you got to here? If you have let me know and I'll make that reason 102!
Friday, 1 August 2008
Long time no ramble!!
Greetings , and welcome to the first of perhaps many further ramblings from the mind of a seemingly middle aged Yorkshireman.
Given the day is of great import to the White Rose clad amongst us it seems an appropriate time to return to publishing inane drivel on the net.
You will see to your right a link to my very last ramblings which I'm led to believe were all in a good cause and of some amusement to my public if only for the food references on a daily basis.
I can safely say that since those exploits, I've sold the velocipede and ridden a grand total of 25.2 miles (mostly with troublesome sons for company), put on around a stone in weight, had trouble getting my arse out of bed on a morn and generally been a pain in it, to all and sundry.
I've changed jobs, somehow lost money in doing so, continued to support the Giants in their demise, bought 3 season tickets for the football for £100, "revised" certain parts of the garden, gained 3 more "offspring" in the form of laying hens and still found time on occasion to bake ginger biscuits.
The world as a whole has gone from a semi-joyful nuthouse (if you ignore the wars and the turmoil etc) to a full blown funny farm run by television "personalities" and people who would be king for a day. Credit crunch, recession, redundancies, oil prices, fuel poverty, negative equity you name it we've got it all and if you add into the mix global warming and the fact no team from the British Isles made it to Euro 2008, God help us we really are knackered and all that in a year.
Still though plenty of reasons to be cheerful, we are starting to get our own eggs, my silly tan lines have all but disappeared, it's stopped raining, smog etc is likely to make the Olympics in China a great springboard for the 2012 Olympics, Boris Johnston keeps us all amused in his role as London Mayor and we have a Chancellor whose eyebrows don't match his hair!
Anyway that kind of sums up what's changed since I last blogged, so next time maybe I'll have something more portentous to say (that is if I can spell it!)
Given the day is of great import to the White Rose clad amongst us it seems an appropriate time to return to publishing inane drivel on the net.
You will see to your right a link to my very last ramblings which I'm led to believe were all in a good cause and of some amusement to my public if only for the food references on a daily basis.
I can safely say that since those exploits, I've sold the velocipede and ridden a grand total of 25.2 miles (mostly with troublesome sons for company), put on around a stone in weight, had trouble getting my arse out of bed on a morn and generally been a pain in it, to all and sundry.
I've changed jobs, somehow lost money in doing so, continued to support the Giants in their demise, bought 3 season tickets for the football for £100, "revised" certain parts of the garden, gained 3 more "offspring" in the form of laying hens and still found time on occasion to bake ginger biscuits.
The world as a whole has gone from a semi-joyful nuthouse (if you ignore the wars and the turmoil etc) to a full blown funny farm run by television "personalities" and people who would be king for a day. Credit crunch, recession, redundancies, oil prices, fuel poverty, negative equity you name it we've got it all and if you add into the mix global warming and the fact no team from the British Isles made it to Euro 2008, God help us we really are knackered and all that in a year.
Still though plenty of reasons to be cheerful, we are starting to get our own eggs, my silly tan lines have all but disappeared, it's stopped raining, smog etc is likely to make the Olympics in China a great springboard for the 2012 Olympics, Boris Johnston keeps us all amused in his role as London Mayor and we have a Chancellor whose eyebrows don't match his hair!
Anyway that kind of sums up what's changed since I last blogged, so next time maybe I'll have something more portentous to say (that is if I can spell it!)
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