A Bird in the Hand.................

Following my previous post about my brush with the Law, I've remembered another time when I was very nearly arrested.

(Why does it always happen to me?)

During the 1970's I worked as a Dental Surgery Assistant. I absolutely loved it!

One Thursday afternoon, my left eye became very red and sore.

"What's wrong with your eye?" asked Mr Stewart, my boss.

"I don't know. It came on just after lunch." I replied.

"Let's have a look," he said and pulled me to the light of the window to see it better.

In those days, we wore no gloves, no masks, and no eye protection. Mr Stewart thought that I'd got some amalgam in my eye. (The silver stuff that fillings are made from.) He could see a sore bit on the underneath of my eyelid, but no amalgam.

To be on the safe side I was sent up to A&E to get it checked out. The nurse examined my eye. There was nothing in my eye as far as she could tell. My eye was washed out, cream was applied, and she bandaged my eye.............................

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I think she was new to the job!

I was told to keep it bandaged and return to A&E the following Monday.

The next day, I went to work, as usual. Mr Stewart had been called back to Edinburgh as his father was ill.

After I'd telephoned his patients, I took the opportunity to catch up on the dental supplies order.

About 11 o'clock, the receptionist said that there was someone waiting at the front desk to see me.

It was Nanny Fanshawe.

Nanny worked in one of the large rural Lincolnshire houses. The previous week, her employer, Colonel Jones, (not his real name) had been in to have his teeth cleaned.

He was a lovely chap, he looked exactly as you would expect a Colonel to look like. He always reminded me of Sir Basil on "The Herbs" TV programme.

Before he left the surgery, as always, he shook our hands with gusto. On this visit, he asked Mr Stewart if he would like a brace of pheasant.

"I'll get Nanny to drop some off for you next week." He said.

So, Nanny was here holding a brace of pheasant. I thanked her, not having a clue what to do with them.

After she'd gone, there was some blood on the floor from the pheasants. I swiftly cleaned it up, before it frightened any patients away, but the blood went all over my dental coat.

I popped my head round the door of the other dentist who worked there and asked him where to put them.

"Can you put them in the freezer upstairs?" (They lived in a flat above the surgery.)

"I don't think that's a good idea - they've still got their feathers on!" I told him.

"I don't know what to do with them, any ideas?" he asked.

Then I had a thought, "Shall I pop round to my brother's shop and ask him to pluck and draw them for you?"

My brother worked in a butcher's not far from the surgery.

"Good idea, off you go!" he said.

So there I was walking up Lincoln High Street, bandage round my head, blood all over the front of my white dental coat, swinging a brace of dead pheasant.

No wonder a policeman stopped me and wouldn't believe what had happened 'til I got him to come with me to my brother's shop!

Because of the bandage round me head, I spent the whole weekend not being able to join my mates and go out dancing.

I was so blinkin' fed up!

Even more so when I returned to A&E on the Monday morning. I saw a doctor this time.

He told me not to worry....................................

It was only a gnat bite, after all!

I've Been Framed!

Excuse my whispering won't you - I'm in hiding.

Have you ever wondered, do only funny things happen to me? Or is it my medication making me think that everything's funny?

I bet you're wondering why I'm here hiding quietly behind me old Northern Upholstery sofa aren't you?

Hang on a sec - let me just have a quick look to see if they're gone.

ALL CLEAR! ALL CLEAR!

Goodness me! This is no way for a fifty-something Granny to behave.

Oh my God! I feel nearly as guilty as when I accidentally let my Library book become overdue!

Oh the shame!

Oh the humiliation!

(Good grief - I can be such a Drama Queen!)

Hang on a sec, I've left me "baccy" tin near the net curtain. I just need to do my Lara Croft bit (rolls deftly across the tufted Wilton grabbing my ciggies off the window sill.)

Crikey! I can hardly stop my hands shaking!

What a night I've had. (Oooh, I've not said that for a long time ;O)

Well, it started off just like any other evening; I cooked me tea, trimmed me bush and counted me money (again!)

Usual boring stuff.

We've had such beautiful sunny weather today, but you know how it is - the sunshine shows up all the dust and dirt you may have missed. I noticed that my large vintage Mickey Mouse print needed a good clean.

I took it off the wall and fetched the Mr Sheen.

I cleaned it.

I cleaned it again.

Then I realised that two of the marks were on the inside.

It was in one of those clippy frame things, so easy to open it up.

I laid it all out on the rug and began to clean it.

How could I have been so stupid?

Because the rug is so springy..............................................

CRRRRRAAAAAAACCCCCK!

Yes! I know I should have had more sense - but I honestly thought it was made of perspex.

"Well, flippin' 'eck!" I said to myself, (or something similar.)

I ran into the kitchen and got my rubber gloves, some kitchen towel, and a Sainsbury's bag.

I quickly cleaned up the broken glass and put the bag by the front door ready to go out to the bin. (My bins are at the side of the house.)

I went to put my gloves away, and spotted my Country Living mag. on the dining room table.

Forgetting all about the rubbish bag, I sat down for a good long read with me cocoa and a couple of Wagon Wheels.

Before long, I'd nodded off, errrr.. finished my mag and cocoa. It must be bedtime I thought, unable to see the time on the clock as I wasn't wearing my 'distance specs'.

I went to check the front door was locked and realised that I hadn't taken out the Sainsbury's bag.

I popped me slippers on and walked out to the wheelie bin.

I lifted the lid on the recycling bin, and tossed in the bag.

In the split seconds that the bag was leaving my hand, all at the same time....................

I noticed how dark it was

I saw the lack of house lights

I realised that this HUGE bin had been emptied this afternoon

The noise was horrendous and sounded like loads of windows being broken.

As bedroom lights came on up and down the street, and dogs began barking, I crept back into my house.

The clock in the hall read

3.00 a.m.

(Doesn't time fly when you're enjoying yourself?)

"Surely, I wasn't dozing that long?"

I checked the living room clock - Yep, definitely 3.00 a.m.

I sat down and waited 'til the lights went out over the road and the dogs had stopped barking.

I looked out the window.

Guess what I saw driving slowly up the avenue?

DON'T TELL MUMSIE, WILL YER?

Mission Unpoochable!

Before I write today's posting, I would just like to say "Thank you" to those bloggeroos who left me such kind messages about my previous posting. I really appreciated them.

Most of you won't know that I am a dog lover, always have been. That said, I don't own a dog at present.

A dog wouldn't fit in with either my health issues or my lifestyle. (I often travel up to see my youngest and his family and they have dogs of their own.)

When I was married we always had at least one dog. One day, we heard that there was an 8 month old English Springer Spaniel on "Death Row" at our local Dog Rescue Centre.

We decided to go and see if we could give her a home. In hindsight we should have realised that she was going to be a handful as when we got there, the Kennel Owner had to get her down from the garage roof for us to have a look at her!

She was adorable, and we brought her home. Her name was "Magic". We soon found out why; if the front door was open even just a quarter of an inch - she disappeared!

We changed her name to "Polly". She really was very hard to handle, so when we heard that a couple we knew were looking for a spaniel to train as a gun dog, we contacted them to see if they thought she was suitable.

To cut a long story short, "Polly" went to live with them. After her training she proved to be an excellent gun dog, and went on to live a long and happy life.

I'm writing this post as I saw two images that really made me chuckle, and I share them with you now.

I'm sure some of you will know just how this owner felt when he came home from work to discover this!

And, finally.........................................................................

Excuse me, wont you? - I've got an idea where to look for my lost umbrella!

What Happened to my Previous Post?

Hello Everyone,

Because I pulled "Laughter Really is the Best Medicine" (my previous post below) and have now reinstated it isn't showing in Google Reader.

Please feel free to leave any comments here, or on the post below.

Laughter REALLY is the Best Medicine

I originally uploaded this post a couple of days ago, but I got a very nasty comment from someone (anonymous of course) so I took it off my page.

However, I thought it best to reflect for a couple of days before deciding what to do, as I was very angry and upset.

My decision is this.........it is MY blog about MY life, so whoever you are - if you want a different blog..................

WRITE YOUR OWN AND DON'T CRITICISE MINE!

Before I begin, I genuinely apologise in advance if anyone really should be offended at any perceived lack of respect for such a serious subject.

Please understand that both Liam (my late partner) and myself have had to deal with some really awful events in our lives, both physically and emotionally.

One thing we always had in common was that we invariably resorted to humour as a way of coping with situations that would have otherwise been unbearable.

Some people resort to alcohol, some to drugs, some to other coping mechanisms. We used humour and the power of laughter.

To give an example of how our sometimes black sense of humour, helped us to cope and try to stand back from some things that happen in life, I will tell the following stories........

On the day Liam was to attend his first round of chemotherapy, of all the things he could have worried about, he couldn't decide what to wear.

He almost always wore a sweatshirt or t-shirt. It was a cool day, and as the nursing staff may have needed access to his veins, he finally decided to wear a long sleeved shirt with button cuffs.

"How do I look?" he asked.

I really couldn't have had my brain in gear when I replied, "Drop dead gorgeous!"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth - I wished I cut have cut out my tongue.

Realising the irony in my statement, he looked at me with mock sadness, exaggerating a pouty bottom lip and asked,

"Can I just be 'gorgeous' instead?"

We both fell about laughing!

In the car on the way there, I tried to apologise for being so insensitive.

He just smiled and said, "Don't worry about it, Swamp. It was really funny! I thought you were getting me back for when it was your turn at the Cancer Clinic a couple of years back."

We both started giggling at the memory of it........................

Over the years I have had four lumps in my right breast. None of them were anything sinister, thank goodness.

Obviously, whenever I find one, I go straight to the GPs, followed swiftly by an appointment with the Oncologist. (Three cheers for the National Health Service!)

I had an appointment at the Breast Clinic, (thinly disguised as a portacabin.) Never having been married, Liam wasn't very good at this sort of thing, but under protest he accompanied me.

When we arrived there, I could see that it really unnerved him. He'd not been prepared for seeing some very poorly ladies, some wearing headscarves, waiting for their check-ups.

He looked so uncomfortable, bless him, I began to wish that I'd not pressured him into coming with me.

We both tried to distract ourselves, pretending we were reading magazines. A nurse came out to the Waiting Room carrying one of those huge thermos flasks that dispense hot water, along with tea, coffee, milk, sugar and a plate of biscuits.

"I'm sorry we're running so late, please help yourselves." she announced.

Liam looked relieved, now he had something to do,

"D'you want a cup, Swamp? I'm having one."

"Yes please." I replied.

He made two cups of coffee and brought them back to our seat.

Drinking his coffee, he was smiling, trying very hard to stifle a laugh.

"Come on, out with it!" I said. "Something's tickled your chuckle muscle."

He whispered in my ear, "For a minute, I couldn't remember how much sugar you take. What a good job I didn't ask.......................................

'One lump or two?"

Oh, How I miss that NAUGHTY man!

I welcome your comments, even Mrs Anonymous. But I'm not removing this post and sorry if I offend.

All God's Gifts Around Us...........

I am now back from my very enjoyable holiday with my youngest and his family and, as promised, here is a follow up from one of my previous posts The Monkey Made Me Do It

You may remember that in that post, I shared with you, my dear Bloggeroos, my struggle to come to terms with my secret addiction to Coco Pops.

Well, I said I would give them up - and I did!

Not only that, but I have managed to stay 'clean.'

I did have one really bad day when I had to call my BFF Carol to come round to my house.

There were no Coco Pops in my pantry, but by the time she got here, I was standing in my kitchen holding a bowl of cornflakes, very tightly to my chest.

After she had whacked me three times with my Vileda Pro Mop and promised me a Wagon Wheel, I resignedly gave her the offending cereal, and she dropped it in the wheelie bin outside.

Phew! - that was a VERY close call!

Anyway.............where was I going with this tale?

Errr, oh I remember...........

All those Coco Pops have done untold damage to my body.

The only way I can get into my best pair of jeans is to lather me bum in Nivea Creme and gently ease them on, lying flat on the bed, using my three, very best, tortoiseshell handled shoe horns.

So, I have decided to get fit and drastically alter my diet.

Most importantly, I need to get back to my "Five a Day" fruit consumption.

Before I share my new diet with you, I would just like to share this old picture of me and my little pals placing our fruit and veggie offerings on the Harvest display years ago.

No! I'm not the one holding the marrow.

I donated 2 tins of Heinz Spaghetti and a bunch of rather limp celery.

The picture was taken at the Lincoln Salvation Army Harvest Festival 1967.

I'm the one with the black buttons down the front of my dress. (I wasn't wearing my Junior Soldier uniform, as I'd attended an Anglican Baptism earlier that day.) The little girl standing next door but one to me, with only her cute little head showing, is my Ickle Ditder Mandy.

Three of the other girls weren't only friends - they were also charges of my Mumsie's, as she used to be a Childminder. (Or "Auntie" as we called minders in the 1960's !) The three of them were sisters and had many cousins, one of whom was called Glenn.

I went on to marry Glenn in 1975, and he is the father of my two sons.

Although we divorced in 1994 and Glenn has since remarried, he is still very much part of my family. He still visits my parents, invited them to his wedding last year and remembers to give cards and presents to them for birthdays and Mothers'/Fathers' days. Glenn and his wife Rosemary are also invited to our (very frequent) family gatherings.

Anyhooo...........I digress.

Here is my 'Five a Day, Get Fit' Diet.

You must consume at least five of the following, one from each group...............................

APPLES GROUP

ORANGES GROUP

BANANAS GROUP

STRAWBERRY GROUP

GRAPES GROUP

If you tire of the fruit, you can add any of the following......................

Of course, changing my diet won't solve the problem on its own, so I have taken up a new, very sporty hobby.......................

It's called "Extreme Ironing" - D'ya think it'll catch on?

Losing Our Marbles?

As I've finished my packing in plenty of time before I jet off to my Spring Retreat - (Millionaires' Row Filey, Yorkshire,) I thought I'd just tap out this blogpost for you.

I won't be gone long and as soon as I get back, I will be giving an update on how I'm doing with my Coco Pops addiction.

Many of you will know of my BFF Carol. We have been friends since we were three years old.

Over the years we have got up to all sorts of pranks and scrapes.

The following tale is a prime example of our fearlessness, recklessness, and some may say, downright stupidity.

One particular day, we were in the school playground. We decided to play "Fairies". We each took our arms out of our cardigan sleeves, and fastened the top button.

We ran round flapping our arms gently, the sleeves acting as our "wings".

We got a bit bored at this point, so we looked around for a game to join in with.

First of all, we watched and wondered about joining in a game of 'kiss chase'.

This game had always been our favourite. There were already loads of girls chasing the boys.

We wouldn't get a look in, so it wasn't really an option.

So, we left them to it!

Then we saw a game of marbles going on. We wanted to join in, but Carol and I had no marbles.

We solved this problem by each of us retrieving from our pockets some brightly coloured gobstoppers we'd bought half an hour ago.

We had 3 each, enough to muscle in on the game.

For a while we got away with the substitution until it started to drizzle with rain, and the boys noticed that our 'marbles' were changing colour!

They shouted at us.......

"Booooooo, booooooooooo! Clear off!"

Then we saw some kids doing handstands.

It looked like fun but I wasn't too keen. Nevertheless, we both tucked our dresses under the leg elastic of our knickers to protect our modesty. I did the little hop and skip required on such occasions, but my nerves got the better of me, and I was unable to do it. As always, Carol managed to do two handstands!

My lifelong fear of Earth's gravity is a terrible thing!

Carol and I looked around us to see what else caught our fancy. We both spotted the tree at the same time and with great enthusiasm we announced in unison,

"LET'S CLIMB THE TREE!!!!"

This was a brilliant idea, particularly as we still had our dresses tucked up into our knickers.

We started pulling at the lads who were in the tree, trying to 'persuade' them to get out of the tree and let us have a go.

They were trying to kick us away and shouting "Geroff!"

As I was pulling at one lad's jumper, Carol poked me with her elbow,

"Watch out! Now we're in trouble"

We saw the headmistress running over towards us.

Boy! was she angry.

"I can't believe my eyes!" She hissed at us.

"Carol and Susan, I presume?"

Carol and I stood there, head bowed, shuffling our feet and trying to avoid her gaze.

"Yes, Miss." we whispered in reply.

"Your reputation precedes you. I hear Miss Newton had to take you two to task only last week whilst I was at a Conference." She raved.

"Well?" she barked, "What have you got to say for yourselves?"

"Sorry, Miss." we chorused.

"Stand up straight the pair of you! I wish you would behave yourselves." she continued.

"Go home, now!"

Even though she had banished us, we showed little fear and walked towards the school gates, giggling.

She called after us...............

"Oi!"

We stopped and turned round.

She shouted after us............................

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"GRANNIES OF YOUR AGE SHOULD KNOW BETTER, AND FOR GOODNESS' SAKE TAKE YOUR DRESS OUT OF YOUR KNICKERS!"

SPONSORED BY TENA LADY