Mum

I appreciate that I haven't posted much recently but I've been tied up with my mum.
Historically she has suffered from a 'trapped nerve' pain and this has got worse recently. After an unrelated trip to see her favourite consultant at the hospital, and me describing all the events surrounding this added pain, the consultant decided that he was going to x-ray.
It turns out that she had broken her femur, hence the pain, and has been walking on this leg for so long that the crack has started to heal. As one doctor said to her 'we have no idea how you did that, they don't make them like you any more.'
She has been offered to have the break reset and pinned but she has refused because she can't stand the thought of having an operation at her age and doesn't want to spend any more time in hospital. She is about to discharge herself.
If we went to war I'd want her on my side!

Love Is All Around You

Repost 2

Here's a topical post from May 2005:

Why does everything involve a headache nowadays?

Up with the lark for a bit of tennis, then, having converted Alastair to their Merlot, off to Chateau des Hospitaliers to buy some of their delicious wine. Wine tashting over, we then scoot over to Jill and Harry's for lunch. It's just non stop eating and drinking this month. Where do we get the energy?

A & M leave at around 4.00 pm and then after a dip in the pool we collapse.

This evening I watched the Champions League final. I'm supporting Liverpool, but AC Milan were clearly the better side and at half-time were 3 - 0 up. It was so one-sided that it became embarrassing and I started to lose interest. Zut alors! Liverpool pulled two goals back and the game became interesting again. They got a third, three all and everything to play for. Extra time and still stalemate, and so to that most painful and gut wrenching decider, a penalty shootout. Liverpool won 4 - 3 on penalties and are crowned champions of Europe. Good effort lads, even if Milan were the better team.

Repost 1

I came across an old post from 2008 today and, for a bit of fun, decided to repost it:

So there I was in Intermarché, in a sanctimonious mood, preaching to Peter H (above) about smoking and weight. Peter, who used to be slim, also smoked like a chimney. He now waddles a bit lot. I told him that a doctor had once said to me, "Let's deal with the smoking first and then deal with the weight increase later." Peter thought for a minute, looked me up and down and said, "They didn't do a very good job with the weight, did they?"

***

I'd heard this before and frankly didn't really believe what I'd heard. Did you know that since the introduction of the Euro in 2002 they don't use cheques in Belgium anymore. Everything's cash or card. Not many people know that, except the Belgians of course.

The Olympic bloody flame

I know it's my fault, I shouldn't watch it, but I was so bored of the Olympic flame coverage this morning that it sent me into a deep depression.
We have another 70 days of this rubbish.
This however cheered me up enormously.

WTF

I love technology but even I was bewildered when we bought our current house to find three fire alarms, one on each floor, which are wired into the mains.
For a relatively small house this seemed a bit over the top. The nearest that we'd previously come to such technological miracles was an electronic egg timer that we'd bought from Lands' End.
Anyway, the other day, one of them started to beep, and after much fiddling and cursing I managed to dismantle it and replace the battery. I can't quite  figure out the need for three alarms never mind the need for battery and mains electricity because frankly I'm not so risk averse but so far so good.
At 04.15 this morning, with ne'er a flickering flame in sight, one of the bloody things went off. I say one of them because until my fire-fighting buddy Jan figured it out I was dozily trying to turn off the wrong one. What a racket, what an assault on the senses and needless to say I spent the next thirty minutes in bed worrying and trying to figure out what had set it off.
I need my eight hours of uninterrupted sleep and that little incident made me very grumpy.

Do as I say

For anyone who saw it, I thought the wealthy, socialist Hollande looked very comfortable in his effete and decadent surroundings at his inauguration ceremony yesterday.

Self indulgence

My bum's going to be sore by the end of today.
First I have to wade my way through the papers which admittedly doesn't take that long, then there is a Grand Prix to watch and then some end of season football which decides the championship.
That's several hours of self indulgence.  So much to do but all of it sedentary so not good for my health in terms of a lack of exercise and unnecessary stress and strain on the heart.
Maybe I should go the whole hog and eat chocolate as well.

Got a light mate?

Did anyone watch the so called lighting of the Olympic flame?
What total and utter tosh. I can't believe that anyone takes it even remotely seriously. I was in stitches. It makes the pomp and ceremony of the opening of parliament seem normal.
'Vestal Virgins' standing around (why are they there?) in mock Grecian garb waiving their arms around in some pseudo dramatic way whilst the high priestess Ino Menegaki lights the flame.
Young men in skirts in some totally ridiculous dance. Then, to top it all the bloody flame when out. Thank god for Swan Vestas I say.
Pass me the sick bucket, but wait until I've stopped laughing at the utter stupidity of it all.

A bit of pomp and a lot of laughs

I'm a monarchist. I can't see anybody, elected or not, doing a better job as Head of State. But I must admit to having a good laugh at some of the pomp associated with yesterday's opening of parliament.
For goodness sake they should do away with some of the stupid titles of people who make up the queen's retinue. Black Rod would be my first to go especially as the position is very definitely a white man.
The poor schmuck who carries the Cap of Maintenance. What's that all about?
Princess Ann in full male navy uniform is something like Black Stick in waiting. What a load of bollocks.
The Queen looks stupid (sorry maaaarm) wearing a crown, robes and reading glasses (get her back in civvies) whilst reading the speech which I understand is written on goatskin. The ink of which takes three days to dry.
When it's all finished, the Crown and Sceptre and of course the Cap of Maintenance get their own carriage complete with high ranking military personnel and outriders for their ultimate trip back to the Tower of London.
One of the carriages had two footmen at the back, on the outside, hanging on for grim death and if that doesn't look stupid enough they have another smaller, younger chap cosying right up behind them, hanging on for even grimmer death.
It's hilarious. Lots of pomp and good for a laugh. Long live the Queen!

A very mean pearly queen

The one on the left is saying, "Nah, I want her to fall."

You hum it and I'll play it

I was under strict instructions last night not to spoil it for the others. Let me explain.
As part of my ongoing education Jan decided to take me to a concert. The Northern Sinfonia, playing in Ripon Cathedral.
Grief, talk about the great and the good of Yorkshire. I've never seen so many Alice bands, pearls, ruffled collars and solicitors in mufti as there were there last night. The county set had all turned up in their finery and I felt quite scruffy in my jeans. They probably thought that I was one of the farm workers.
The band leader was Janus Piotrowicz who looked a real miserable git but people seemed to like him cos they clapped as he came in.
Anyway, the band played three pieces during the evening and they kicked off with Overture The Hebrides by Mendelssohn or Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy (1809-1847) to give him his real name. That was alright.
After that was the boring bit where I dozed off twice. Jan was really looking forward to Mendy's Violin Concerto in E Minor. A woman came on called Alexandra Soumm but nobody seemed to mind that she'd arrived late because they all clapped her effort at getting there. Fair enough.
Bits of it were alright and it went quickly enough but what I didn't like was her encore. It was rubbish. It was so bad that the band didn't even play with her. They just sat and watched. I guess they were so pissed off that she'd arrived late and people still clapped her, I don't know.
Anyway, there was then a break and you could go and get wine. I assumed that people were getting bored by now and thought about drowning their sorrows but even though I'm not terribly religious it didn't feel right getting pissed in church so I gave it a miss.
The next bit was better (but longer) and Alexandra didn't show up for this bit either so I guess she had a bus to catch to get back to Moscow.
Symphony no 6 in F major Op.68 Pastoral was good, a bit long but good. Jan nudged me as I started to clap in time to the music but nobody else seemed to mind. This bit was written by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770- 1827) and, as you know, it's split into five 'bits'.
As I soon found out, etiquette dictates that you don't clap between 'bits', no matter how much you like it. That seems strange to me but anyway when in Rome.........
It all ended at 9.30 which didn't really seem like very good value to me especially as one of them turned up late and left early but everyone else seemed quite happy.
Jan thought I was very good and that I behaved myself really well, so as a treat she warmed up a Morrisons Chicken Jalfrezi curry when we got home. The perfect end to my night of culture.
Written by Alexander Federico Hampshire (1948-and still going).

A little sweetie

We're busy entertaining family at the moment so here's a picture of our youngest grandchild to keep you (me) happy.

I need yum yums

So we're walking through Morrisons getting some provisions for my mother and, with no help from me (OK, I did get some yum yums - £1 - a delicious sugar glazed type of twisted do-nut for the uninitiated), Jan starts whingeing about the amount we spend on food and, wait for it, how I'm a bad influence. This is a remark solidly aimed at me.
Can I point out that the trolley, with the exception of the yum yums, contained many items that Jan had chosen and had absolutely nothing to do with me.
Now, I'm always ready for an argument but not usually in public so I said, "fine darling, lets stop shopping and head to the till."
"No, I haven't finished yet," said the sage, "I've got more things to get," leaving me bruised from the earlier assault and somewhat dumbfounded.
Anyway, not yet satisfied that we'd spent enough, Jan directs me to drive to Lidl.
£40 later, this time I didn't even put a pounds worth of yum yums in the trolley, we head out of the door.
Is it any wonder that men ignore women and/or find them incomprehensible?
Confused.