Can I do it 'Til I Need Glasses?.............

My big brother Les was always in trouble when we were kids.

Even today, at our weekly Family Lunch, you will hear Mumsie cry,

"You're still not too big for a good hiding!"

He winds her up, he teases her, he playfully sits on her knee and 'forces' her to stroke his very hairy legs.

She squeals, she laughs, she cries, she swears at him, but he won't give in 'til she tells him he's the best son in the world.

When he was in his 30's, he lived away from Lincoln. One weekend he came home to attend a family party.

He stayed at my parents' house in his old bedroom.

I lived the other side of the City, so I stayed there too.

We had a great time at the party, got back to Mum and Dad's and all went upstairs to bed.

After about five minutes, Les shouted,

"Muuuuuum, Muuuuuuum. Quick Mum come here!"

Worried that he was feeling ill, or had one of his famous, regular, copious nosebleeds - she jumped out of bed and sped across the landing and into his room.

He put on his best 'Little Boy' voice and said,

"Canna have a drink of water, Mum, canna, canna?"

I could hear the slap from my room!

**************

One night we had gone to bed very late, after returning from a day at the seaside.

Les was about 12, I was 7.

Mum came out of the bathroom and went in to say "Goodnight" to my brother.

He was hiding under the covers......

I heard her say,

"I've told you before. Don't do THAT! It'll make you go blind!"

I wondered what he could possibly be up to.

"Can I do it 'til I need glasses?" he asked.

Trying not to laugh she said,

"You already wear glasses, now settle down."

From beneath the covers, he brought.............

and a ..................

You naughty bloggeroos! What did you think I was going to say?

For another of my brother's escapades see here

Stars in my Eyes................

Regardless of any skills we may or may not have, most of us think there is ONE GREAT TALENT hidden inside our souls.

Some of us think we could write a best selling novel.

Some of us think we could wow Simon Cowell with our rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".

Me?

Oh, that's easy - I was BORN TO DANCE.

(Okay, stop laughing at me you lot - it's MY vision!)

Yes - I know I'm in my 50's

Yes - I know I have problems with my joints and wake up so stiff that it takes me 30 minutes , 2 cups of coffee, and 2 painkillers before I can get out of bed.

We're not talking reality here - we're talking Dreams and Imagination. (Of which I have bucketloads!)

As a little girl I wanted to be ....................................

A Bluebell Girl

or a .................

Can-Can Dancer

or better yet,...........................

one of the Tiller Girls at the London Palladium!

When I was a child, Len was our local greengrocer. He made his deliveries by horse and cart.

Three times a week Len and a German lady who worked for him, would ride round our streets selling fruit and vegetables, most of which they grew themselves on a nearby small-holding.

They were such characters! Sadly, Len and his wife could have no children themselves - but they loved kids and made time to chat to us and give us toffee apples and the like.

Not hard to believe, but I was a real chatterbox. Len always asked me what I'd been up to and never tired of my endless tales of what I'd done.

Everytime I finished my nattering he would say,

"What a long tail our cat's got!"

(I always laughed loudly, even though I didn't understand it. Then again, neither did the German lady who was with him!)

One day, I was aged about 4, the conversation went something like this.............

Len: Now then, young Susie. What have you been up to?

Me: Mummy has been teaching me to skip with my skipping rope.

Len: Did yer Mum do it first to show you how?

Me: Yes, Uncle Len. She did.

Len: I thought so. I see the council are laying new pavements!

We all laughed. (Mum could never be described as 'skinny')

Len: Skipping, eh? That'll make you fit.

Me: I hope so. When I grow up I'm going to be a dancer on Sunday Night at the London Palladium.

Len: Are you really? You need really long legs for that.

Me: I have look here!

I lifted my dress and bent over

Me: See! They go right from my shoes - straight up to my bum!

As if the memory of the embarrassment wasn't enough, years later the German lady became my Mother-in-Law!

When Words are Not Enough!

My Mum absolutely adores children, and we all had a lovely childhood.

I have one brother and one sister.

Les is 5 years older than me, and Mandy is 5 years younger.

I've not written a humorous post today, but I hope you'll enjoy it, nevertheless.

One of the best things about having a 5 year age gap is, that as pre-schoolers, we all had the benefit of Mumsie's undivided attention all through the day.

When Mandy went to school, Mumsie didn't know what to do with herself! She decided to become a childminder.

In those days, this wasn't regulated the way it is today, and minders were called "Aunties".

Even today, we can be walking round town, and there will be a cry of,

"Cooeee, Aunty Aud!" and one of her charges will run up and give her a hug.

She always found great ways to keep us amused, and never complained if we made a mess.

Mum would make great games to play - she would put up the ironing board on a low height, rifle the pantry for tins of food and play shops. Sometimes she'd throw a blanket over the clothes horse and we played tents!

The garden these days is well tended, with neat lawns and fences. It was a different thing in our childhood; there would chalked out hopscotch and the grass threadbare from all the playing!

We would play skipping - with a "borrowed" bit of clothesline, tied to the fence at one end, Mumsie at the other end, turning the rope for us.

She would always find activities to do. She taught me to sew and knit, and once she made a cardboard 'loom' and taught me to weave.

One of my earliest memories from when I was about 3 years old, is finding some red dead nettles near Daddio's shed. (See pic) I thought they were absolutely beautiful, and picked a handful for Mum.

As all good mummies know, on such occasions, we beam a grateful smile to our offspring, and put such 'treasures' in water in an eggcup.

I would pick some everyday all Summer long each year, right up 'til I started school aged five. Every time, Mum would gush with thanks, and put them in the windowsill.

************

Fast forward through time..................

I got divorced in my late thirties, I really loved my job, but I didn't earn much money. I wanted to buy a house, but I could only get a tiny mortgage. I saw just the right house, quite near Mum and Dad, and close to my sons' school.

It had been repossessed, and needed loads of work, but I put in an offer and was delighted when it was accepted!

That was the good news, the bad news was that it had been rented out to really bad tenants. They'd had three dogs, and the place smelt awful and was filthy!

To give you an idea on the state of the place - it took a whole afternoon for my Aunty Bert (her name's Bertha!), me and Mumsie to clean the kitchen floor. (Did I mention it was filthy!)

Mum and Dad weren't in much of a position to help me financially, but they gave loads of practical help.

All of my family gave tremendous support, but especially Mum.

(Dad, like most men of his generation, happy to put up a few shelves - but doesn't do 'emotion' :O)

A few days after I finally moved in, I wanted to get Mum something special, but couldn't find the right present. Nothing could say what I truly felt.

I was going to my parents for the weekly Saturday Lunch. As I went to get into my car, I spotted some red nettles growing under the hedge. I knew I'd found my present!

I picked a handful, and carefully laid them on the passenger seat.

When I arrived, with my face beaming, I held them out to Mum. She smiled all over her face, and hugged me. As she was putting them in an eggcup, Daddio came into the kitchen, and asked,

"What have you got there, Manageress?" (His pet name for Mum!)

" Never you mind!" she said to him. "I've just got THE best present, but you wouldn't understand."

Then she wiped the corner of her eye on her pinny, and put the 'flowers' in the windowsill.

**************

I'm working on a post for you all about Family Planning, it's one of my hints and tips posts that you like so much, with loads of pics. Don't forget to pop back will you?

The Lie-in, the Ditch and the Wardrobe.........

Or...............the day I went missing..............

This story has almost nothing to do with Narnia, other than the fact that, as I was an avid reader as a child, and sometimes my imagination would get the better of me. (Nothing new there, then!)

It was the wonderful Summer of 1966 and England had just won the World Cup............

It was the six week long Summer Holidays from school.

My brother was almost 16, I was 10, and my sister, ("ickle ditder") was 5.

My brother, Les was an apprentice butcher but he had Tuesdays off.

Mumsie was at work, so we had a young woman called Georgina who came round to look after us.

I shared a room with Ickle Ditder, Mandy. She would drive me mad! I have always loved my bed - Mum never had a problem getting me to go to bed at night.

Not only was I keen to get into my bed - I was just as keen to stay in it too!

One day, I promised Mandy that if she went down quietly for breakfast, allowing me to have a lie-in, I would play hide and seek with her later.

When I eventually got up, Mandy, Les and Georgina were all out in the garden.

I crept down to where they were, hoping Mandy didn't see me. I wanted to go in and finish reading my book "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe." Whenever I wasn't sleeping I was usually reading - Mumsie used to call me "Bookworm Belinda."

Georgina, Les and Mandy were all digging a ditch. Some of the other local kids were there too.

Three years earlier we had had the Cuban Missile Crisis, and there had been a genuine threat that we could have been involved in a nuclear war.

People were still worried that it may still happen. There were nuclear shelters featured everywhere - on TV, magazines and newspapers.

My parents have a huge garden, and we convinced them they we ought to dig a shelter. They were humouring us, of course, but at least it would keep us out of mischief!

We'd torn pictures and plans from newspapers, and so it was, that we began to dig our shelter.

Daddio showed us where we could build it and suggested that we should begin by digging ditches where we would eventually put the walls of the shelter. He knew that we would soon get fed up with this project.

The area just happened to coincide with the bit of the garden that he needed digging for growing potatoes. (Ooooh Daddio - you're naughty!)

Nobody spotted me behind the gooseberry bush, so I decided to leave them to it - much too much like hard work!!

I went into the living room where it was nice and cool and picked up my book.

Half an hour later, Ickle Ditder came in to find me.

"Come on then, play hide and seek with me." she pleaded.

I closed my eyes, Mandy hid behind the sofa.

I strung the game out a bit - she always hid in the same place.

(Except when she was three and sat herself in an enormous open drawer with her eyes closed, convinced that made her invisible!)

"You hide now" she told me.

I set off upstairs, "Where shall I hide?" I wondered.

Taking the idea from my book - I decided to hide in the wardrobe in Mum and Dad's bedroom.

They had an old utility wardrobe - the sort that closes with a key.

I studied it for a minute and realised that if I half turned the key, I could get inside the wardrobe, and then carefully pull the door closed and push the lock the rest of the way with my finger. This closed the door.

Never one to miss the chance of a good read, I had also taken my book and a torch in with me.

"She'll never find me in here," I thought.

This was a sort of 'spare' wardrobe, there was plenty of room for me as all that was in there was

Mumsie's fur coat. (100% Genuine Nylon)

Her one and only ball gown (This was altered slightly each Christmas, to make it look like a new one!)

And last but not least my ballroom dance dress. (I took Old Time Dance lessons in those days, eventually perfecting the art of curtseying in the Military Two Step without catching the heel of me shoe in me frilly knickers!)

Not only did she not find me, when she got fed up of looking, she went out into the garden and forgot all about me.

I was ok for about 20 minutes, then the battery went in the torch. Then I panicked, then I cried. Then I panicked again!

In the meantime, one of the lads noticed I was missing. With the precision of a Major General, Les organised the Search Party.

Dennis, Sue H, and two Kevins went to look for me on the nearby playing field. (I'm not sure where my BBF Carol was, I think she had the mumps!)

Georgina and Les went in to look in the house.

I was quite hysterical by the time they let me out of the wardrobe.

Still, at least I'd finished my book in peace, but it's no wonder that I get claustrophobia!

The Nuclear Shelter? We never did finish it....................................

.............................But we did have a lovely crop of potatoes!

When a BFF really means Forever!

My BFF (Best Friend Forever) is Carol. I have been round to her house today, and as usual, she made us a lovely lunch!

I truly cherish her friendship.

I have mentioned Carol in my blog before. You may remember a previous post regarding our old shared twin tub washing machine that we kept in our garden.

This was way back in the 70's when we had bought our first marital homes next door to each other.

We called the washer "Animal" as it was completely uncontrollable and left such puddles on the floor it had to be kept and used outside.

Carol and I have been best friends since we were 3 years old - that's over 50 years of friendship and laughter we have shared!

As children, we lived around the corner from each other and had met on the swings at the nearby playing field.

We would play together at least three times a week whilst her Mum and my Nanna had a good old gossip.

Imagine our excitement just before our fifth birthdays when we spotted each other across the hall at the "Putting your Name down for School Day."

We went to that School for 6 years.

Even though we had never been placed in the same class until our final year, we were friends all that time.

We ended up at different senior schools, but they were quite near each other, so we were still able to walk to and from school together.

Some people thought we were joined at the hip. Others assumed we were sisters!

We went on to share all the usual teenage problems - spots, first love and the like.

We were each other's Chief Bridesmaid and once married, lived next door to each other for a few years.

We've seen each other through.........

new love and broken hearts,

miscarriages and childbirth,

prosperity and adversity,

achievement and loss,

parenting and most recently grandparenting.

Through all the many other stages in our lives, I can't remember one serious disagreement.

Nowadays when we are together although we bemoan our ageing minds and bodies,

we giggle at the way we each wander off topic,

can't remember what we were saying,

and click our specs together in greeting!

Life's never about WHAT we have, but WHO we have, that makes our joy complete.

Don't you agree?

P.S. I've now included this pic of the pair of us. It was taken at Woburn Abbey in 1967 on a Children's Trip organised by our local Pub. Funny to see that Carol was taller than me in those days. We've always call this photo "Two Monkeys and Two Parrots."

.

Audrey's Party & the Number 11 Bus

Before I continue rambling on about our Fun & Frolics at Mum and Dad's house, I forgot to add something to the bottom of the previous post about the imaginary bus of our childhood, so here it is.

It's about the red pebble in Mumsie and Daddio's house. The one stuck in between the bricks in the passage, otherwise known as the Number 11 Bus, the pretend bus of our childhood.

I mentioned that the passage had always been a bus, I repeat "always". It still is! Not literally of course. But, because it still is the bus, everytime one of the family go up the passage we "press the bell" to "stop the bus". (Did I mention some of us are on medication?)

This is great fun, particularly on a Saturday afternoon when we're all leaving there, each of us pressing the bell when we get to "our stop". Mumsie always sees each of us off, and it drives her mad!

I know that I've mentioned before that we all go to my parents house for Saturday Buffet Lunch, otherwise known as "Audrey's Party". (Audrey is Mum's name).

This doesn't just happen occasionally, this is every Saturday. ALL OF US.

Apart from Mumsie and Daddio there is........................

My brother and his wife

My sister and her husband

Me

My son and his wife and baby daughter

(My other son, wife and children who live away come about once a month)

Neice number one and her boyfriend

(Sometimes Neice number two, her husband and little boy who also live away.)

Taylor and George - 2 delightful little boys, grandsons of my Brother-in-law.

It's absolute bedlam, all the men congregate in the living room and us girls in the kitchen. The children fit in where they can.

As you can imagine, when we're all there - there's a lot of mobiles going off intermittently.

Mum recognises each and every ringtone and message bleep. When we're eating our lunch, my mum sits just a bit away from the rest of us, enough that she can see us. (A bit like a teacher in charge of a class.)

As everyones' conversations are going on, when someone's 'phone goes off, Mumsie puts her hand up to halt all the chatter. Then she listens and when she's worked out whose 'phone it is, so as not to put a break into anyone's ramblings, she just points to you.

Last week seemed a particularly busy Saturday mobile-wise, and throughout the chatter four 'phones all went off in quick sucession...............

Mandy's 'phone goes off

Mum holds up her hand to halt the chatter, listens for a sec, then points to Mandy

Laura's 'phone goes off

Mum points to Laura

Annmarie's 'phone goes off

Mum points to Annmarie

My 'phone goes off

Mum points to me.

"Bloody Hell", Mum says "I feel like I'm conducting the flaming Orchestra."

In my next post, I will be telling the tale of my partner, Liam, God rest him and his imaginary girlfriend.

I bet you can't wait!!!!

"Come on George" and Other Imaginary Friends

Did you have an imaginary friend? I did, (more of mine later) and my sister had a great one. He was a football player and went by the name of "Come on George". My sister is 5 years younger than me, but I was a bit of a weedy kid anyway and acted quite young for my age. My sister's name is Mandy, instead of calling her 'Little Sister', I called her Ickle Ditder. I had a speech impediment, awww!







So she's about 3 and that makes me 8 at the time. It was a nice sunny day and after a few groans I agreed to play her favourite game with her, "George", and a giant stuffed rabbit who we called "Mr Rushby" owing to him bearing a strong resemblance to our favourite neighbour. (Although Mr R didn't have quite such long ears :o)






The game began where we got ourselves on a pushalong Mobo scooter; Mandy at the front of the footboard and me precariously balanced behind her with each of my arms trying to keep her in place. Mr Rushby is squatting on the handlebars. (The rabbit, not the neighbour!)




Now this is where the game took such strange turns and quirks that it's obvious to see in hindsight that one day I would end up on mood controlling medication. (Or my "Comical Pills" as Daddio affectionately calls them.) Of course, I swear that I just went along with Mandy's instructions.






Right, so off we go out the back door and into the passage. The passage is open each end to the elements and runs from the back yard to the front garden. The passage is the number 11 Bus, not just this particular day - ALWAYS*.(see below)










Embedded in the brick wall between the courses of bricks is a shiny red pebble. This is the bell button that the bus conductor pushes to let the driver know when to stop, simple really!










I also double up at the bus conductor because I've got the right type of bag strewn across my chest - the driver is invisible.









Even though we had the scooter we had to catch the bus because it was too far to scoot, at least 5 yards!













We arrive at our destination, Sincil Bank Football Ground, otherwise known as the Front Doorstep. (Up the Imps!!!)


















So, our little tiny bums are seated on the even tinier doorstep. Oooooh what I wouldn't give for an executive box!









"There he is," shouts Ickle Ditder. "Coooooeeeee, George!" She's waving frantically looking over at her imaginary hero as he runs onto the 'pitch', scowling at me til I join in.




I do the ref's whistle to start the match - I can do a REALLY LOUD whistle through my fingers. (God, I'm talented!)



"Come on George! Come on George!" we shout encouragingly. Ickle Ditder looks to the 'pitch', groans and puts her head in her hands. "That was wubbish!" she declares. "Let's go 'ome."





The game has lasted about 2 minutes, .......not each way, ...........2 minutes in total.


Mumsie is smiling fondly out the front window.




I look at her in disbelief, "What a waste of time" I shrill.




We get back on the scooter, then the 'number 11 bus'. The imaginary bus drops us off at the back door.








Mumsie hands us a glass of Kia-ora.

"What's up wi' you?" she asks me.

I repeat myself, "That was a complete waste of time!"






Mumsie says, "Never mind, George might play better next time. "





With this, staring blankly towards the horizon, she puts her hand in her pinny pocket, takes out a small brown bottle and tips out what looks like an orange "Smartie". She takes a gulp of my Kia-ora.














"Besides, sometimes the fun's in the journey"


Do you like my new image?










To be continued.....................................................................