Monday 26 December 2011

There are Moments....

a martyr
I love my husband, really. After 30 years of marriage he still makes my tummy muscles squeeze when I see him unexpectedly, but there are moments. Sometimes in the middle of the night. I have told of my dislike of spiders here so here's another little story. Same bed, same people, different night.

I was sound asleep, I know this because when Mr M grabbed my arm and shook me awake it was a bit scarey. He was whispering my name with an urgency in his voice that we rarely hear. He isn't the sort of person to panic or rush around shrieking. I don't do it often but I have had my moments over the years.

So.

I am now awake, sorry I am now AWAKE!!! staring into the darkness as my husband whispers "Why has a spider got nine legs?"

WHAT?

"They don't have nine legs," I replied, "they have eight."

"Oh, that's what's wrong with it." he said, then turned over and went back to sleep.

Did I say that I am now AWAKE? Well I am. I had tucked the duvet in around me but now I have to shake it vigorously then turn on the bedside light and examine it carefully incase a nine-legged spider is clinging to the cover. I beat the pillows and check the floor around the bed too.
I didn't get much sleep at all while Mr M slept for the rest of the night like a baby!

Friday 23 December 2011

paint it red

My beautiful daughter moved to Manchester to be with her then boyfriend and within a year had found them a lovely little house in Failsworth. The boyfriend (he never was a keeper even if he is good to know) decided that buying a house was too much like commitment for him so my daughter went ahead on her own and they moved into the house ans settled down. One of the first things she did was paint the window frames and the window sills. These were in need of a new coat of paint so she chose Liverpool red, as you do when you are young. She sanded and rubbed down the frames and sills and primed and undercoated, just as her friend who was a painter and decorator told her. She painted the front gate too. Then she went in and had a shower and settled down to the TV because it was Saturday night and the boyfriend was working at the pub.
The following day she popped down to the corner shop for the papers and on her way back a neighbour from across the road shouted to her "Hey! I want a word with you!"
My daughter was a little apprehensive as the voice didn't sound too friendly. She smiled and waited. The woman crossed the road and said
"You want to be careful painting stuff like that. I opened my curtains this morning - and I'm not saying I was drunk or anything you know? but when I opened them I thought my head had exploded! All that red! you could have caused a stroke!"
Then she grinned and began to laugh before remembering that she had been drinking the night before.
My daughter had made a new friend who was jolly good to her later on.

Sunday passed quietly and on Monday my daughter went to work and was really puzzled because everyone kept laughing and saying how they liked her earrings when she wasn't wearing any. When she got home the boyfriend was there and as she paused to admire her painting handiwork she said "Do you think I should get some nail polish that colour? or should I just use the paint?"
"Beats me," he said "I'm still wondering why you painted your ears."

She rushed to a mirror to discover that she had two perfect dots of paint, one on each ear and no idea how they got there.

Wednesday 21 December 2011

Do you want Santa to visit?

Something was said yesterday that triggered a memory. I thought it should be documented so here it is.

When Mr M and I first became 'Us' I took him on a tour of the relatives. He discovered that I have a lot of cousins and we are still involved in each others lives, even if only in a small way.
I have an app
I took him to meet Mr and Mrs Bluefunnel (I have explained their name here). Mr Bluefunnel was recuperating from an operation and was spending a lot of time resting on the settee. All the Christmas decorations were up and the tree was next to the end of the settee.
Mrs B was doing her usual thing of looking after everyone, especially Mr B, and brought us a cuppa and a slice of cake together with a plate of mince pies and a plate of biscuits.
"Is there anything else I can do?" she asked
"There is one thing love" said Mr B "Could you turn the tree around please?"
"Well, yes, of course" she replied, getting up from her chair to do it straightaway "but why?"
It's just that all the chocolate ornaments are empty on this side, so if you turn it I can reach the others while you are in work."

There was a pause - one - two - and then she hit him with a cracker. A Christmas cracker not a nut cracker.

All the silver paper was still there looking as though it was full of chocolate but he had carefully removed and eaten the chocolate.

"Do you want Santa to come here on Christmas Eve?" she asked sternly. "Yes," he replied in a subdued voice.
"Well he won't come at all if you do things like that! I've a good mind to stop your pocket money AND tell Santa you're on the naughty list!"

That was thirty years ago and I am delighted to say that he hasn't changed at all.

Saturday 17 December 2011

Home for the Holidays

Yesterday Mr M was on afternoon shift. This means going into work for 2pm and leaving work at 10pm. It has always been the shift I most hate because I can never get anything started before he goes. I always feel there isn't time to start, even if the task will only take an hour I have great difficultly getting going because all too soon he will be picking up his bag and his coat and going out through the door.
Yesterday was no different. He went off to work and I had to make sure I stayed awake until it was time to collect Miss M from the school across the road. We ate Lincolnshire gingerbread cookies and drank milk and talked about Santa visitng the school and giving her a Winnie the Witch book and some chocolate, and also we watched Christmas 24 channel. We like this.
Pretty soon Mummy arrived home from work and then Daddy arrived, surprising us because we had forgotten that he finished early on a Friday. Daddy pointed out that there was a card to say that the post office had tried to deliver a parcel but no one was in - they lied, again. He offered to run down to the sorting office - about 300 metres away from our house - and collect it for me. As it was Mr M's present I said yes please.
Miss M and Mummy went home and then her Daddy brought the parcel so I thought it would be a good time to wrap it, while Mr M was safe in work until 10pm. The time was 6.15pm.

wearing his wedding tie
I got the wrapping paper, the cutter and the sticky tape and as I cut the paper the front door opened! Mr M was home!

I did the "shrieeeeek" "Stay there!, don't come in this room! go and sit on the sofa and watch the TV for five minutes" I threw the paper over the gift and rushed to welcome him home and to explain in my normal, non shrieking voice that I was wrapping something for him and I didn't want to spoil the surprise.
"That's OK," he said "I don't mind sitting here and waiting. I am Home For The Holidays. I don't go back to work until January second."

I was so excited, I didn't know whether to kiss him first and then do the happy dance or do the dance and then kiss him so I kind of kissed him then danced then went back for more kisses - daft eh?

I wrapped his present. I made a cuppa and then we had fish finger sandwiches for our tea YUM!
Having him going out to work has always been something I hate. I would love to have him around all the time and I love it when there are holidays and we can just be. When he is not here I have this affliction, we call it emptyarmitis. So now I have him home with me until january 2nd

~happy dance~

Thursday 15 December 2011

What she doesn't want for Christmas

Taking Olivia back to Rainbows
Miss M was worried the other day. I hadn't seen her for a few days because her daddy had time off from work  - something to do with taking the days before he lost them at the end of the year. She was with me in the breakfast room and while she was putting her shoes on she confided
"I'm very worried Grandma."
"Oh dear," I said "What's worrying you sweetheart?"
"It's Santa, I think he might bring me a real live Unicorn." She looked at me to see if I was paying attention. "I don't want a real live Unicorn, Grandma, Where would I put it?"
My brain immediately threw its hands in the air and ran around screaming in my head while my body remained perfectly still. How to cope? How to cope!!! Then the part of me that is most like my mother said
"Stop worrying, he won't bring you a real live Unicorn sweetie, because Santa doesn't give real live animals as gifts. He only brings toys and games and sweeties. Never live animals of any kind."
Wasn't that brilliant? It is exactly what my mother would have said and it came out of nowhere. Thank you Mum.
"What I really want is a toy one that is the same size as a real one, Grandma. He could bring that, couldn't he?"
GULP!!!
"Well, where would you put it? you do realise that a real, full size Unicorn is taller than Daddy don't you?"
"Really?"
Oh yes, as big as a shire horse, you remember the shire horses at the farm?"
"Really?"
"Yes, ask Grandpa"
Well, she did ask Grandpa if real Unicorns were as big as shire horses and he said he didn't know because he had never seen one but she should ask Grandma because she used to be a Girl Guide Leader and knew all about these things. If grandpa said Grandma was right then that was enough.
I am telling you these things to forewarn you and give you some extra ammunition and a little more wriggle room because these grandkids can be sudden can't they?

Sunday 4 December 2011

Chinese whispers

When my children were small we lived in an old water mill just outside the village of Raglan. When you live in or near a village you either take part in village life or you exist on the periphery. My children went to the village school and I was involved in every aspect of village life. Junior Football club? my boys were there and I was on the touchline. Cubs Scouts, Brownies, playgroup I was there. The Scouts and Guides in Raglan are, or used to be, Church units and had a Church parade once a month. I was in the church choir, a member of the WI and the young wives group and I was a committee member of the Village Hall Committee. All this evolved over time but when I first went to the church the children were quite small and this is where my story begins.

Eldest Son was five when we moved to the mill and it wasn't long after this that I started going regularly to church. I took the children with me and they were always well behaved, unless one of them dropped their collection money and started to giggle. That didn't happen too often. They enjoyed the hymns most of all because they liked to sing. With everything else that was going on in their lives they needed to be able to make noise.
One day I heard Eldest son talking to his teddy bears. He had two that he loved deeply one was called Baba, the other had no name. Until now. "Look Baba, this is Gladly. He's a church bear."

Gladly? where did that come from? I chose my moment carefully. I didn't want him to know I had been eavesdropping so I waited until he mentioned the bear by name and then asked why he had chosen that name.
As is usual in such moments Eldest Son gave me a scornful look as though wondering how his mother could be quite as stupid as that and said "Like the bear in the song, Mummy"
"Oh," said I "which song is that?" He sighed, his mother was obviously denser than even he had thought. "The one we sing in church, Mummy, you know." and then he sang to me
"Gladly, my cross I'd bear"

This story has been brought to you through Sian at fromhighinthesky. please visit her blog and enjoy all the other stories in the series.

Saturday 3 December 2011

Mr Movember

I just have to share this.

http://vimeo.com/33022252

My eldest grandson is the young man with the Movember Moustache right at the beginning. He won £100 and he has raised money for the male cancer charities.

~Proud~