Archive for the 'The Family' Category

Mandela and me

February 1st, 2011

It was the old Anniversary yesterday.

I forgot, but seeing as Herself forgot too, it didn’t make much difference.

Thirty six years!  Fuck!!

Nelson Mandela only did twenty seven years on Robben Island, and he got a Nobel Prize.

I did longer than that and what did I get?  Grief.

Nelson Mandela only did twenty seven years, and he became president of his country.

I did nine years more and what did I get?  Earache.

Nelson Mandela only did twenty seven years, and he got the adulation of the entire world.

I did a lot longer than that and what did I get?  A hole in the credit card.

If I had a chance to go back, would I do it all again?

Probably.

I’m a pushover.

Pigs and coincidences

October 21st, 2010

There are times when I wonder about coincidences.

I couple of days ago, for no reason at all, I began to think about our guinea pigs. Our K8 looked after them while we were on holiday in June, and I sort of, kind of forgot to collect them again. So she has been happily looking after them ever since.

Shortly after that, I got a comment on one of my musings from Sighs, of Guinea Pig Sighs fame. I hadn’t heard from him in a while which saddened me as I like guinea pigs with attitude, and I like having a guinea pig commenting on my site.

I thought it was a strange piece of coincidence that Sighs should comment on the very morning I had been thinking about our wee rodents, but dismissed it as just that. Coincidence.

Later on that afternoon, I had a phonecall from our K8. As usual, she wanted to borrow something and said se was calling over. I said that was fine, as I wasn’t doing much anyway. She then coughed quietly and asked if she could hold a funeral in the garden. Somehow, I knew what was coming next.

Poor wee Fizz kicked the bucket that morning.

Our garden is becoming quite a respectable graveyard. There are dogs, a cat and a rabbit buried there, and now a guinea pig has joined them. It was a moving funeral. Our Puppychild did a rather sweet oration at the graveside and then went off and played in a tree house I had built her. Kids are fierce resilient.

I’ll miss Fizz. Of the two, she was probably my favourite.

Fizz the Guinea Pig

Sleep well, little Fizz

National Grandparents Day

September 26th, 2010

Herself tells me that today is Grandparents Day.

Not being one who believes everything she says, I went on the Interweb to check.

Fuck me but there is a lot of confusion about it. Some say that Grandparents Day is [was] the 3rd of February. Another says it was the 4th of March. The Irish Times claims it’s this month but don’t say exactly when. The Catlick Church claims the 25th of July. However a few places say that the 26th of September is National Grandparents Day. That happens to be today, so I’m quite happy to run with that one.

The day is getting on a bit, and I haven’t seen a hair of the grandkids yet. I can only assume they are preparing a nice surprise for me. I hope it’s something nice like a voucher for free booze for the year in the local. Or maybe they are going to announce that they are going to do all my gardening for the year?

I don’t normally go in for all this shite about Valentine’s day and Mother’s Day and all those other fucking days that were invented by greetings card companies. I am prepared however to make a generous exception for Fathers Day and Grandparents Day. Those two are definitely days worth celebrating.

So now I am waiting for the offspring’s offspring to arrive.

I hope it’s something nice and useful and not just some old stuffed toy or an engraved mug. Mind you, if the mug is silver, I will be able to melt it down and flog it, which wouldn’t be too bad.

I wonder what my surprise is?

I am waiting.

…

Still waiting.

…

…

Still waiting.

Introducing John

September 19th, 2010

I don’t think I have mentioned John before.

He came to live with us a few years ago.  He just turned up one night, and has been here ever since.

He’s an extremely quiet chap.  In fact, Herself has never even seen him, and I only see him occasionally.  He pootles around the place at night, and I have never seen him during the day.

The only time I know he is around is when Sandy finds him.  I put her out for her last piss of the night and next thing there is an almighty racket from the garden – a sure sign that John is on his nightly perambulations.

Sandy is an extremely intelligent dog, and quickly cops on to most things in life.  John however has her baffled.  She sees him as a tasty bit of prey and goes on the offensive.  John, being also quite intelligent, goes on the defensive.  And when John goes on the defensive he is pretty much indestructible.  Sandy hasn’t learned this yet, so she dances around him and then lunges.  The resulting sound is a sort of “woof woof woof YIP!”  This is repeated ad nauseam until I go out and rescue her.

You see, John is a rather large hedgehog, and when on the defensive, he is essentially a large ball of pricks.  Pricks don’t feel very nice to a sensitive nose, apparently, hence the YIP part of the bark.

I tried to photograph him the other night.   This wasn’t as easy as it sounds as it was pitch black out there, and it was a case of shooting off the camera in the general direction and hoping I caught him.  After several attempts, I eventually did.

hedgehog

Now, I know the photograph looks a bit like one of those colour-blindness tests, but I can’t help that.  If you are colour blind you probably won’t be able to see him, but take my word for it – he’s there.

Why do I call him John?

Well, I was all for calling him Sonic, but he took grave exception to that.  He told me his name was John, and who am I to doubt him?

So John he is.

Skyping Herself

August 17th, 2010

I don’t know if I mentioned before that Herself is a bit under the weather?

Maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t.  It’s not important.

Anyhow, she started complaining and coughing a few days ago.  I ignored it, but then the neighbours started complaining that her coughing was keeping their children awake at night when she was working in the garden.  I brought her to the doctor.

Now, Doc is away on holidays and there was some stand-in replacement at the surgery.  This replacement obviously wasn’t very good as she immediately gave Herself some tablets and told her to take things easy.  Take things easy?  For fuck’s sake!  It’s no wonder the replacement doesn’t have her own practice if she is dishing out namby pamby advice like that.

Anyhow, yesterday the coughing was getting on my nerves so for once, I told her she could have a day or two off and have a lie in in her shed.  The potato crop can wait for a day or two.

For those of you who have never visited the Manor, the shed is quite a distance from the house.  It’s in the far corner just behind the nettles.  This presented a problem.  How was I to stay in touch with her?  I could have used my mobile phone, but she has a habit of switching hers off for some reason.  I didn’t feel like shouting so I was in a bit of a quandary.

Then it struck me.

The perfect solution.

Now, I like Skype in my laptop.  It’s a handy little programme and is great for keeping in touch with people.  I installed it on her laptop, and brought it down to her.  That cheered her up because she likes playing on the Interweb.  I showed her how to answer Skype and I left her to it.

Now, if I want to talk to her, all I have to do is Skype her. 

I think I’ll Skype her now.

My mug of tea needs refreshing.

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