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Archive for the 'The Family' Category

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.

Bringing the dog for a spin

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.

 SandBruno
Bruno and Sandy

Normal service will be resumed

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…….

I’ve been tagged again

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!!

tag-award

F*cking memes….

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