Grandad August 10th, 2008
Every now and then I read something on the Interweb that makes me stop and think.
I found such a piece last night and I had to read a couple of times, as it is one of the happiest, most moving pieces of writing I have read in a long time.
For those of you who are not familiar with the background, Laughingboy is my grandson. He is seven years old, and has cerebral palsy. He has poor motor control, and no speech. He talks with his eyes and he laughs a lot. He is the most beautiful, loving child you could ever meet.
Our K8 is a loving and devoted mother, and never once has she complained. When I read what she had written, my heart sang for her.
This is the piece she wrote.
I don’t know about you, but I am going to head off now and give it a vote for the Irish Blog Awards Blog Post of the Month.
Grandad June 19th, 2008
Grandad is back in Head Rambles Manor, having wandered the highways and byways of The West.
It was not a pleasant trip, but then funerals rarely are happy occasions.
They are even worse when one is saying goodbye to a close relative and a close friend.
We will miss her and her wicked sense of humour.
Thank you to everyone who left comments after the last, somewhat cryptic message. I wasn’t in the form for writing, and my head was in a spin, as I had to arrange hotels and dog minders and things like that.
It’s one of the things I hate about growing old – the number of funerals.
It’s a sure sign of old age when the only time you meet some people is when someone else has popped their clogs.
We used to meet regularly at weddings. Then we started meeting at christenings. Now we meet at funerals.
Bugger.
At least it didn’t rain.
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.
Or maybe Teddy.
She’s a randy fickle bitch.
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.”
“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…..
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.
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
Subscribe to audio
