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Cloth Ears

I arrived home from work yesterday evening and Harry said “You had a phone call earlier, from the local mental centre.

“The where?”

The local mental centre

Having very recently done a course on mental health, my mind immediately turned to that. But, I didn’t remember giving them my home phone number. “You sure it was for me”? I asked.

Yeah. They asked for you by name.”

This had me a bit flummoxed. Also, I didn’t know the town even had a ‘local mental centre’… although I’m sure it must have, somewhere.

Intrigued, I pulled up the Recent Callers list on the phone and googled the number.

And I now have an appointment booked.

At the Luton Dental Centre.

Je suis revenu

Not that you’d know I’d been away.

But I have.

I’ve been down to the South of France to spend a week with the family. They are all still down there and won’t be home till the weekend.

But I am now back at home… scratching my mosquito bites.

How was your holiday, I hear you ask?

Well, it was OK. A bit too hot, maybe, but I kept out of the sun as much as I could.

To be honest, I was getting a bit bored after a while.

I always do.

Fortunately, we had a hire car, so we went out a few times. The picture above was taken on my phone, as we walked back to the car, after a hard day’s Geocaching.

My flights on SleazyJet were uneventful, save for the delays. But I was pleased to see that we had a pilot with a sense of humour on the flight home last night:

“For those of you on the left-hand side of the plane: if you look out of your windows you will see a lovely cloudless view of London. You won’t get a better view than that. And for those of you on the right-hand side of the plane… if you look to your left, you’ll see the heads of the people on the left-hand side of the plane, enjoying a wonderful view of London. I’m afraid you won’t get a better view than that.”

I had a window seat on the left-hand side and it was indeed a fantastic view. Being nighttime though, I didn’t recognise any of it.

Upon landing, I was disappointed to find that the free shuttle-bus to the train station, now costs £2.30.

I was annoyed even further when, having purchased my train ticket, I found that the gates were open at either end and I could have ridden for free.

And the final twenty-minute walk home from the station stretched to nearly double that, because my carry-on bag weighed more than twice as much as it had when I originally packed it – carrying most of Mrs M’s clothes as well, due to her needing to make space in her suitcase for all the extra stuff she’d bought out there.

But anyway, I’m back now and the dog is pleased to see me and the temperature is more comfortable and the bed… well, there’s nothing like your own bed, is there?

Now, where did I put that bite cream…?

Solo

Mrs Masher has taken the kids off to the South of France for a holiday.

I’m home alone.

As a consequence, I now have an aching wrist and blisters on my palm.

Y’see, we have this bush in the back garden. It’s horrible. And each year it gets bigger.
I’ve never liked it and have threatened to remove it on several occasions.
Mrs M, however, is quite attached to it.  “Don’t you dare touch my bush!” she says, each time I talk of maybe pruning it back a bit.

But, she is away on holiday and when she returns, she’ll find that her bush is gone. I’ll not mention it till then.
Meantime, I’ll have to get some better secateurs, that are easier to squeeze.

Mrs M rang me last night… just to check on the dog. “She’s fine”, I said. And she is… albeit, suffering in this heat, as we all are.

She rang just as I was preparing my dinner. “So, what are you having?” she asked.

“Well, as it’s Sunday, I’ve decided to have a roast chicken dinner. I’ve got chicken, roast potatoes , peas, carrots, Yorkshire pudding and stuffing.””

“You? You’re cooking a roast?  I don’t believe you.”

“Nope, I am. I’m just preparing it all right now”, I said.

Pop!  Pop! Popopop!

“Hold on…is that the sound of a film lid being pierced?”

“It might be.”

I love being home alone.

Jean Genie

As both of you know, I’ve long been a trendsetter when it comes to fashion.

Back in the eighties, my “Frankie’s Gone To Cricklewood” t-shirt was the talk of the canteen at work and my reputation for only wearing underwear from Bloomingdale’s has become the stuff of folklore.

And when plum-coloured, velvet frock-coats with four-inch lapels and 15-denier Harris tweed cuffs come back into fashion…

However, one fashion that I have never followed is that of denim jeans.

I wear denim jeans – of course – but I’m really not bothered about what make they are.

In fact, the pair of jeans that I normally grab out of the wardrobe, are Sainsbury’s own brand, that I bought in an emergency in Torquay, for six quid a few years ago.  I have worn them many times and not had one single person comment that they look cheap or crap.

Levi Jeans are the premium brand, of course, and lots of youngsters throw their hard-earned cash that way. At eighty-five quid a pair though, I’m sure they can’t afford to buy too many pairs.

The ones that astound me though, are the Levis with buttons on the fly rather than a zip. What’s that backward step all about? Because, from what I’ve seen, to have a wee, you have to undo your belt and waist button first, in order to undo the fly buttons. I’ve stood next to many a chap at the urinal, who has had to stand legs akimbo whilst taking a pee, in order to stop his trousers from falling to the floor. Indeed, only a couple of hours ago, whilst visiting the toilet at the cinema (took the kids to see Incredibles 2), I turned round to see a chap standing at the urinal, with his Levi jeans around his ankles. Then, as I washed my hands, I watched in fascination as he pulled his trousers up and went through all the rigmarole of doing up the fiddly buttons. Then – having got his trousers done up again – he wiggled them down, such that three to four-inches of his underpants were showing.

He walked out with a confident swagger… although, with his crotch around his knees, it looked more like a waddle and it left me thinking that fashion was so much more sensible back in the day, wasn’t it?

Now, where did I put that RELAX tee-shirt…

 

It’s not the winning…

… but the taking part, that matters.

That’s right, isn’t it?

Public Service Announcement

Our local Fire & Rescue Service has put together a series of very short videos, all with a World Cup theme.

Whilst – I’m sure – they had a lot of fun putting these videos together, they all have a serious and sobering message.

They’ve made the effort, so the least I can do is be a good sport and PASS IT ON

Enjoy.

One Ronnie

These are my glasses.

Or “spectacles” if you prefer.

I used to have really good eyesight and then… I hit 40.

Suddenly, I found I needed glasses for reading.

But as my eyes worsened, I then needed stronger ones for reading and close-up work and weaker ones for mid-range. My far-sightedness was fine, but even that weakened after a while. I found  I was carrying around several pairs of glasses with me.

And, it reached a point where I was balancing two pairs of glasses on my nose, whenever I needed to read really fine print or do very close-up work.

And so I made a decision to change and last year (might have been the one before), I opted (no pun intended) for Varifocals.

And what a boon they have been.

I should have done it sooner.

Can you see what it is, yet?

From this picture, you can probably guess what I have been doing today.

We last painted the front of the house, about ten years ago and it has been looking rather shabby of late.

Mrs M also wanted to change the colour: grey is the new magnolia.

Apparently.

First coat was done this morning and a second coat tomorrow.  We have to get it done by midday, because that’s when the sun works it’s way round to the front and the temperature becomes unbearable to work in. And my aluminium ladders become unbearably hot to stand on, I discovered today.

I’ve really got a lot on, tomorrow, so I’ll probably have to start about 7am.

Michelangelo had it so much easier!

Jammy bastard

When I am at work. I will have porage as a mid morning snack – as I have mentioned here before.

But at home – as I am today – I’m quite keen on tea and toast.

With jam.

And – as everyone knows – the best jam to have on toast, is apricot.

You are all probably also aware that the best apricot jam in the world, is made by my sister-in-law.

Unfortunately, she has run out, but this pot of French apricot conserve, is actually a pretty good substitute.

Ri… ring, ri…ri…ring

This is our home telephone.

Well, one of a set of three.

Like most home phones, it’s of the cordless DECT variety.

And it’s knackered.

We seem to go through phones like they are going out of fashion. I reckon I have to replace them every couple of years or so.

We’ve had all the makes, but none of them seem to last.

“Panasonic is a good make”, “I thought. These should last OK”.

But no. The ringer is gone and we can hardly tell when it’s ringing sometimes.

I wouldn’t mind so much, but we rarely use them.

Maybe I’ll go back to the old corded versions. With a wire.

They never went wrong.

Well, hardly.

 

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