Head Rambles

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.

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.

• Around the garden , The Family
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Grandad December 16th, 2007

We brought the dog for a spin yesterday.

And when he had finished spinning, we put him through the tumble cycle.

I don’t know whether he liked it or not, but he is one hell of a lot cleaner now.  He had been almost black with dirt.

I never mentioned Bruno before.  He is our other dog.

Sandy and Bruno are very much in love.  They sleep together whenever possible.  They are the perfect couple.  It is a marriage made in heaven.

For some strange reason, Sandy is very shy about being photographed with Bruno.

That is why this photograph is a rarity.

 
Bruno and Sandy

• The Family
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Grandad November 19th, 2007

I don’t think I’m going to get much done today.

I am minding Puppychild.

she is in great form, and is chatting away nineteen to the dozen.

That would be fine, but she is also throwing tennis balls around the room for the dog.  So the dog keeps shooting past me and then collapsing on the wooden floor.  Dog-breaks don’t work very well on wood.  So, between tennis ball whistling past my ears and a dog that keeps collapsing in a heap of fur, I don’t think I’m going to be able to concentrate on much.

Breaking news - she has just decided that there is a crocodile in the house somewhere and has gone off looking for it.

I hope she doesn’t find it…….

• Around the house , The Family
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Grandad November 11th, 2007

Our K8 has come up with a new meme.

And, bless her little cotton socks, she has passed it on to me.

She wants me to write a post that uses every tag. It’s all very well for her - she only has a few. I have loads. The cow!

Now I may be getting old but I find these difficult. I had a hard days blogging yesterday, as I had a good rant on a podcast to America. That was after I did my post on Cully and Sully.

So today I went for a ramble around the garden, trying to think of a topic. No go. There was no inspiration around the house either, and I’m damned if I’m going around the village or around the town for something so trivial.

Back in the 70’s life was a lot simpler. There were no computers or Internet, or even television so there were no memes. I had no irritating daughter in the family either. We found our pleasures in simple things. I remember learning to drive so we could go on holidays touring in the West, with no worries about flying and Global Warming. We had such simple sports as children in times past, like watching spiders spin their webs, and the designs they’d make. We’d go for rambles through the woods and have picnics of tea and spam sandwiches. We were a lot healthier for it.

Nowadays, work is the new religion and people have lost the use of their imagination. People only get worked up over celebrities and smoking out corrupt politicians. They panic over property prices and have lost sight of the soul of life.

No.

I can’t think of anything.

I elect not to do it.

I’m going to file this under Uncatagorised.

Maybe Sixty should have a bash at this?

Or how about Kirk at Just Thinkin’? I haven’t tagged him before.

And it’s a while since I annoyed Grannymar!!

F*cking memes….

• America , Around the garden , Around the house , Around the town , Around the village , Back to the 70s , Cully & Sully , Election , Getting old , Global Warming , Health , Holidays , Internet , Learning to drive , On the road , Podcasting , Politics , Property , Rambles , Rants , Religion? , Smoking , Television , The Family , Times past , Tourists , Uncategorized , Web design , computers , spam , sport , work
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Grandad October 25th, 2007

I’m a bit addled in the head today.

I’m looking after Puppychild for the day, because K8, TAT and LaughingBoy have urgent matters to attend to.

Puppychild is the most adorable child. She is very funny and at that age where she can amuse herself. She has already come up with a couple of comments that have made me wet myself.

The only problem at the moment is that she has a book. She loves that book. It’s a book of fairy tales with nice pictures. There is a little button in the corner of it, and when you press the button it plays a little tune.

And the problem is that she insists that it is ‘bwoken’. It’s not.

But she keeps pressing the button and saying “it’s bwoken”, so that damned tune is playing non-stop.

It’s doing my f*cking head in.

• Around the house , The Family
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Grandad September 23rd, 2007

Today is officially Grandad’s Day

They’ve called it National Grandparents Day, but I know they mean me.

It took a bit of persuading to get Bertie to call it. It involved a few Yen, Roubles and Dollars, a briefcase and Celia Larkin, but he got the €20 in the end. That bloke will do anything for money.

I’ve been told that if I go into St Stephen’s Green and run around like a tool, I’ll get a certificate signed by the Lord Mayor of Dublin. Be still, my beating heart! He can f*ck off. I have enough certificates, signed by better psychiatrists people than the Lord Mayor. I’ll send Puppychild in on the bus and she can run around for me.

The great thing about today is that the daughter has to pay homage yet again. We can screw her between birthdays, Christmas, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and now Grandparent’s Day. There is no such thing as Daughter’s Day, so it’s all one way traffic. About bloody time. We suffered enough when she was growing up.

And that goes for the rest of you too. You have to pay homage to me and Herself. We will accept the usual financial donations in lieu of gifts.

Please don’t insult us with anything less than €100.

You have to do it.

It’s the law.

• The Family
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