Head Rambles

Archive for the 'The Family' Category

When balls have dropped

Grandad May 11th, 2008

I rue the day I taught that bloody dog to play tennis.

Now that summer is here [albeit temporarily?] she is insisting on several games a day.

She starts off in the early afternoon. She finds a tennis ball, and there are a few around, and then drops it. The sound of a tennis ball bouncing on the floor is common these days.

If I ignore her, she picks it up and drops it again, because she likes the bouncing noise.

If I continue to ignore her, she gets pissed off and starts throwing the ball at me.

Yesterday was the worst. Herself was nagging me over something or other, and the nagging was accompanied by the sound of a tennis ball constantly bouncing. It did my head in.

So I give Sandy a game. She always beats me and leaves me knackered. She then takes a short rest and the whole thing starts all over again. We’re up to about five games a day now.

I am a shadow of my former self. Sandy is as fit as a fiddle.

Afterwards, as the sun is going down, she heads off to sleep with Bruno.

sandy2

Or maybe Teddy.

She’s a randy fickle bitch.

Finding Granny

Grandad April 3rd, 2008

I was talking to herself earlier.

“D’you know,” says I, “but your blog is doing very well?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s getting a hell of a lot of traffic, all of a sudden.”

grannygraph

“But I haven’t written anything in ages.”

“I know,” says I, “but they are all people searching for the word ‘granny’.”

She laughed. “I expect they are all looking for a grey haired old woman called Mavis doing her knitting, and instead they find a fag smoking old cow.”

“Tell them all to fuck off,” she added.

Charming…..

Guest Post - Sandy talks about herself

Grandad February 7th, 2008

Hello ereodvbyy. My name is Snadyy and my daddy, Gnadard is ltnetig me wrtie tdaoy.

My feinrd Wjodoa wotre and aeksd me to tlel you some tginhs aubot mlseyf.

You will have to eucxse my wnitrig. My grmaamr and puciounttan are good but I hvae dfiuftcily sillepng.

I dnot know who my real mmmay and daddy are basuece I never met them. I dont mind tohugh beuscae I lvoe Gandard and Gnanry vrey much. Tehy love me too and look aetfr me vrey wlel.

My fuortaive game is tennis. Gadnard and I hvae gaert fun pnailyg tnenis, but he is gtniteg a bit old now so I dont ask to paly for too lnog. I ask for two or trehe short gaems a day ietasnd of one big one, so he can get his braeth bcak.

I lvoe the car. Aiytmne Gadanrd divres awynerhe, he aaylws brngis me with him. I sit bisede him and give driiectons. Somtieems if he is terid or dnruk, he ltes me dirve. I lvoe taht. It is garet fun but it meaks peploe srate at me.

I hvae a very good fenrid who lives up the lnae. She is celald Fizz. I see her as otefn as I can, but Garnadd keeps bnolckig my hole. It is the only tnhig I do not lkie auobt him.

I hate luod niose. I hate it wehn there is tnuhedr or fokirewrs. Tehy mkae me feel all fnehtirged and dzizy and I hvae to hdie in a dark part of the husoe uitnl they stop. Gdanrad and Garnny mnid we very well thugoh and cofmort me when taht hnapeps.

I am married to Bruno. He flowlos me aunrod all the time, and stemimeos I do not seapk to him.

snadybruno

And now I hvae to wrtie to my bolg fnerid and ask him to wrtie aoubt hmsilef. He is caleld Bertie and he lives with Eignlsh Mum

Is there no remission?

Grandad February 1st, 2008

33 years.

That’s 396 months.

Or 12,053 days.

Or even 289,278 hours.

Quite a long time.

That’s how long we have been married.

What crime merits a sentence like that?

get_out_of_jail_free_card

In search of Sandy’s hole

Grandad January 12th, 2008

Our Sandy has a hole and she keeps climbing through it.

I keep blocking it up but she just makes a new one.

Our Sandy is very intelligent. She is computer literate, she reads a lot [she likes the Irish Times, and Margaret Forster], she has a wicked sense of humour and frankly would outclass Bertie or Dubya at any quiz show, even if they acted as a team.

There is one thing she is ignorant about though, and that is traffic. She can cope with anything else, but she doesn’t understand the concept of being run over. If the gets onto the main road, she will happily amble up the middle of it while cars miss her by inches.

I live on a lane, as you know. If you go up the lane, you will find the house where Fizz lives. Fizz is a little white terrier, and is Sandy’s friend. Sandy likes to visit her friends and so she keeps getting out.

Unfortunately, if you go down the lane, you come to the main road which is full of lunatic drivers, boy racers, exploding buses and women drivers. It is a damned dangerous place if you’re not careful. And Sandy isn’t. And she goes down there sometimes.

I would love to leave the gate open so Sandy could visit Fizz anytime she liked, but I can’t take the chance. I don’t want her to end up as a long smear on the main road, because I love her.

sandy1
Not a very good photo

Our boundary is very long. It mostly consists of hedging and trees and I like that. I hate concrete walls. They are too suburban for the countryside. But hedges and trees are damned difficult to seal off against a determined dog, so I spend my time filling in gaps with bits of wire netting.

I have to go out now and re-fence a stretch in the middle of a clump of bushes, because that is where she keeps getting out now.

It’s a right pain in the hole.