Category: Family (page 1 of 3)

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…?

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.

Wakey Wakey!

This is our alarm clock. It’s probably about 15 years old or more, but still going strong.

The good thing about it, is that it has two alarms: one for me and one for the current Mrs Masher.

The first alarm is mine and goes off at 5am, with a very annoying Beep Beep, Beep Beep… If I’m not awake before it goes off – which I usually am – then I tend to wake as soon as that first Beep Beep, goes off. No snoozing: straight up and out of bed.

Because I’m annoying like that.

The second alarm is for Mrs M. It’s the local radio station and it’s pretty loud. She will sleep through the first five minutes of it and then doze for another five before finally dragging herself out of bed.

Unbelievably though, I’ve known her to sleep right through it before now.

Walkies!

These are my walking boots.

They really were made for walking.

And I walk in them everyday, when I take the dog out.

They’re a bit heavy, but so VERY comfortable – now that I’ve broken them in.

But, I’m not the only one who loves my boots (or beewwts as they are known elsewhere).

Saber adores them because, when she sees me pick them up, she knows it’s THAT time.

Lost without it

This is my Swiss Army knife.

Well, one of them.

This is the larger of the two that I own.

The smaller one doesn’t have quite so many appendages, but it practically lives on my person. I carry it everywhere and it is always handy to have.  As it is always upon me though, I sometimes forget I have it… which is why it annoyingly got confiscated at Gatwick airport, a couple of years ago. Still, it made for a good gift the following Father’s Day.

Its bigger brother (featured above), lives on my desk and – again – is invaluable.

So much so, that a couple of years ago, I gave one to my Dad for Father’s Day, in the hope he would also find it as useful.

He did, and like me he carried it everywhere… which is why he had it confiscated at Heathrow Airport.

You can probably guess what he got for Father’s Day this year.

You get what you pay for

This is the calculator that I use at work.  I took it out of my desk drawer specifically for this photo. And I wrote SHELLOIL on it, because it would have been infantile to have written BOOBS… and – contrary to popular opinion – I am a grown up.

I bought this calculator… actually, I didn’t – my parents bought me this calculator to do my college exams with.  I remember going into Dixon’s with my mum, and I remember her wincing at the price when I picked out the one that I wanted.

But, I’ve always been one to look after things and so this calculator – though it’s somewhere around 38 years old – still works perfectly. And it even still has the original instruction manual, tucked into its imitation leather, plastic wallet.

It got me through my electronics exams.

It got me through my Radio Amateur’s exam.

It even got me through the mathematical questions they suddenly threw at me, at my job interview for the GPO/British Telecom.

OK, yes, I’ve had to change the batteries and clean up the PCB, but on the whole, mum, I think I got your money’s worth.

Woof!

Well, I haven’t posted any pictures of muttley for a while, so what better opportunity than during a blogging challenge?

Saber is about 14 or 15 months old now and she has more energy than the Duracell bunny.

She eats like a horse and is costing a small fortune to keep.

But, she’s also dragging Mrs Masher and I out of our armchairs and onto long walks… which can’t be a bad thing.

Aaaahhhhhtchoo!!

It’s that time of year, again.

As a child, I never suffered from hayfever and I would ridicule any of my school-friends that did: “C’mon”, I’d say, “It’s only a bit of pollen!”

When I reached adulthood though, it suddenly hit me and I fully understood the torment that my friends had gone through.  I then suffered with it for many years.

As I got older, the symptoms started to reduce slightly each year, and nowadays I only really get it if the count is high and I am on my bike: pollen up the nostrils at 60mph, is bound to have an effect!

This year though, I have started suffering from it quite badly again.

And I’m not alone, as both kids also have it pretty bad.

Today, I have made the first of – what I am sure will be – many trips to the chemist, for some much needed relief.

The price of these medications seem to go up each year, but, as I’m sure any fellow sufferers will agree, it’s a price well worth paying.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

It’s been a tiring old weekend, with lots getting done and we needed to kick back a bit.

So, this afternoon, we had some family over for a barbecue and a few drinks.

And then a few more drinks.

Now, I’ve liked whisky for a long time and our sideboard has many bottles in it, that have been bought me over the years.

And whilst I’m partial to a nice scotch, I find Irish that bit smoorther.

This one was unopened and was shouting out to be uncorked… Mick and I didn’t want to let it down.

A fair afternoon’s work, I’d say.

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