Leisurely Scribbles (part 5) (Part 1)

Hobbies & Pastimes Hobbies & Pastimes: Chat / Discussions
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My Lovely Cousin’s grandmother was a dear old soul, but shopping with her was a nightmare.

She was frightened of traffic and terrified of crossing roads. She would grasp whoever was with her by the arm and would not let go until she had been safely deposited on the other side.

When our kids were younger they discovered that crossing roads would result in them learning all about what later became known as Nana’s Death Grip.

Letting her loose in the shops was no better however. She would spend ages inspecting goods, picking things up and putting them down. Trying on clothes and taking them off.
Squeezing fruit and veg to check for freshness, then putting it down again.
No matter how long she spent doing this, she would invariably end up choosing the first thing she had tried.

The same was true where different shops selling the same sort of things were concerned. She would drag family members from shop to shop before saying, I think I liked the first one in the first shop.
*sigh"

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:lol:
I had a good belly laugh at that post Fruity, you must be psychic, we were just talking about when the wife used to take the kids out shopping earlier today.
You have described my missus to a tee, she also had that “Iron Grip” with the kids and grandkids while crossing the street, bless them, they took such care didn’t they.:wink:

I’m very wary of surprises and this is the time of year for them, the wife has gone into cahoots with the daughter this year to get me what I’m told is a special “surprise” this year seeing that I was 75 last month. I’m mortified now waiting to find out what they have come up with, but to be honest I’ll be delighted no matter what it is, it’s the tension of waiting that gets me, I’d have been happier if they hadn’t mentioned it in the first place.
I’ll let you know what it is when I get it.:wink:

When I think of surprises I always think of the poor white cow in this ancient joke, but maybe some of the younger members might not have heard it before, (it’s been rumoured that Moses told it when he descended the mount), it puts a whole new meaning to surprise, I think it’s one of the old clean (well almost) classics.

There was a farmer who had a brown cow and a white cow and he wanted to get them bred, so he borrowed his neighbour’s bull and turned it loose in the pasture. He told his son to watch and come in and tell him when the bull was finished.

“OK Dad” said the little boy.

After a while the boy came into the living room where his father was talking with some friends.
“Hey, Dad,” said the boy. “Yes,” replied his father.
“The bull just f….d the brown cow.”

There was a sudden lull in the conversation. The father said “Excuse me” and took his son outside. “Son, you mustn’t use language like that in front of company. You should say ‘The bull surprised the brown cow’. Now go and watch and tell me when the bull surprises the white cow.”

The father went back inside the house. After a while the boy came in and said,
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Yes, son. Did the bull surprise the white cow?”
“He sure did, Dad! He f….d the brown cow again!” :lol:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=/IUw9zLK5yso

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Well I’m gratified to know that my Lovely Cousin’s Nan was not the only one on the planet to develop the Iron “Death” Grip.

To a certain extent I think it was hereditary, but in a thankfully diluted form.

Many decades ago I offered a gentlemanly arm one day to my two young cousins when we had to cross a busy road. When we got to the other side the oldest girl let go and wandered off, but the youngest girl kept hold. By the time we got to the end of the next road she she had shifted her grip and the cheeky minx had taken my hand, but unlike her Nan, without cutting off the blood supply.
Fifty four years later she still takes my hand whenever we are together.

I like (nice) surprises, but my Lovely Cousin is quite the opposite. I don’t want to know what she has got me for a present whereas she will grill me in the hope I will give her a clue so she can work out what I have got for her.
She will also go hunting for prezzies so I have had to come up with ever more ingenious places to hide things.

Not long after we were wed I insulated the loft. She came up to see how things were going and developed a dreadful rash afterwards.
It turned out that she was allergic to glass fibre, so for years I would hide things up there, making sure she knew where it was.
She never went up there for fear of getting another rash thus giving the game away that she had been on a present hunt. :mrgreen:

I used to hide stuff at her Mum’s house as well because I knew my Aunt would never give the game away or let my Lovely find things.

Now we have a loft conversion and my Outlaws live with us, so hiding things has become problematic.

We had a couple of plastic ornamental Herons at either end of the pond but the local foxes destroyed one and the other one disintegrated due to age.
I’ve bought a couple of metal ones to replace them and they are currently behind the bench in my workshop.
I shall nip out and place them where the old ones used to stand and say nothing. I wonder how long it will be before she notices them. :twisted:

I’ve not heard the story about the cows before, but I’ve heard several things in the same vein about making sure your instructions are specific and cannot be interpreted in a different way.

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I saw the photo’s of your beautiful gardens Fruity, a credit to your hard work, and long may you and yours enjoy them.:wink:

My little workshop has so many shelves and cubby-holes that it’s easy to hide stuff like presents provided they are not to big and bulky, sometimes I forget where I put them and have to nearly take the place apart to find them again.:smiley:

The children and grandkids think I have a fortune in diamonds and gold stacked in there, it’s a sort of legend thing with them, don’t ask me how it originated.
Alas they are going to be sadly disappointed when I kick the bucket.:lol:

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My Son called over today to collect a parcel that was delivered here, his wife and himself work so they are seldom at home for deliveries.
Anyway he stood at the door when the wife answered it and collected his goods, I was in the kitchen having a coffee.
He shouts into the house “Hey Dad, how are you?” I shouted back that I was grand and how was he.
“Come out and lets see ya” says he, and I duly obliged.

Now how odd that is when you think of it, Christmas time and no hand shaking your Son or hugging your Daughter and grandkids.:frowning:
I can’t explain it but a strange eerie feeling came over me, us humans are so prone to infections that if you were to think about all that could happen to a body in the course of a lifetime we would lose our minds, and yet when things are going fine in the world we still start fights and can’t get along with each other, when will we ever learn to get our priorities right.:frowning:

Now they tell us (CNN news) that the same doctor who discovered ebola says there are all sorts of new nasties still to come, Jaysus do we really need to be told that on top of what we already have!
It’s enough to make you throw in the towel on the whole sheebang.

That scene in the film “Papillion” where Steve McQueen is in Solitary on Devil’s Island and he’s allowed stick his head out the cell door every month came to me, the fella next to him has his head out too and asks McQueen “”How do I look?”
We’ll probably be doing the same thing over the garden fence with our neighbours soon.
Both of their heads looked like large sweating turnips that had been rolled in shorn cat hairs.:slight_smile:

Yes indeed, when we have to be inspected by our children every now and then it’s not a great sign is it ?
I consider meself very lucky to have reached the age I am now, and I’m going to enjoy whatever time I have left, if I get through this that is.

I’m taking a rest now till Stephen’s Day or thereabouts, so I wish everyone a very happy and safe Christmas.:slight_smile:

My dear old Dad used to raise this toast to all his old friends in the local on Christmas Eve at closing time, a nice simple sentiment I’ve always thought.

“There are tall ships and there are small ships
Ships that sail the sea
But the best ships are the friendships
And may they always be”

Cheers to you all!:slight_smile:

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Wishing you and Phyllis a very Happy Christmas, Jem …:slight_smile:

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Merry Christmas Jem and Phyllis.

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I thank you for keeping me entertained with your wit and insights into a life well lived.

I hope you enjoy your break from “this place”. The real world, whatever that is, can be a scary place.

I look forward to seeing you on the other side, although of what I am unsure.

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Quote Fruitcake:
“I look forward to seeing you on the other side, although of what I am unsure”.

Ah, what’s on “The other side”, the eternal question, we could talk about that forever and still be in the dark, mustn’t be bad though, as they say, nobody ever came back to complain about it.;-):smiley:

Simple fact is nobody knows and will never know til it happens to them, but that doesn’t stop us from guessing, no more than it stops all sorts of prophets and Guru types popping up and cashing in on it by saying they’ve had some sort of divine inspiration and know all the answers, it really is the oldest con trick in the book, no better way to control the masses than scaring the life outta them, fear is the key.

My ‘Nutshell” guess is that we don’t know where we were before we were conceived, but wherever that was, that’s where we go back to… complete nothingness, which when you come to think of it is the only true perfect peace, when one is nothing one has no pains, hunger, fears, emotions etc., its only when one is born and becomes ’something’ that’s when all our needs and fears begin.:wink:

I hope you were all merry and gay over the Christmas, gay as in the old meaning.:slight_smile:

The Gay Cavalier
“The forest got furry the desert grew eyes
The mountains got runny and the lakes turned to skies
A harvest of pumpinks grew sequins for ears
And I sighted for my sanity… Gay Cavalier

A torrent of roses not tossed by a tear
What Nature disposes man makes disappear
One moment’s sincerity smoothly sincere
Might bring back my sanity… Gay Cavalier”

(Richie Havens)
Sorry Richie, but I can’t make head nor tail of that, I always thought he was a highway man of yore with an eye for the ladies, you make him out to be a nutcase talking to pumpkins. :slight_smile:

Some strange thoughts that have crossed my mind over the festive season.

I wonder will we have a national “Coming out” day when these on/off periods of lockdowns are finally over?

Do gay Witches come out of the Broom Closet?

Do gay Barmen come out of the cellar?

Why do gay senior Politicians stay in the Cabinet?

Old Mother Hubbard
Came out of the cupboard
To tell the whole World she was gay
When her Dog got wind of it
It upset him quite a bit
So he ran away with a stray.
(me)

I’ve come out the front door thousands of times, I’ve come out of bad plays twice, I even came out of a church one time when I felt a bit faint, but never out of a closet, why does it always have to be a closet? If I had a big secret the last place I’d keep it in is a closet.:confused:

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Closets always seem to stink.

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Of history.

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I was neither Mary nor Gay over the winter solstice festival. (Other festivities and belief systems are available). The only dressing up I did was for two days when my Lovely Cousin insisted I wear a smart shirt with buttings up the front, and trouserings with fore and aft creases as opposed to the cargo trouserings with lots of useful pockets I normally wear.

I’ve come out of an earth closet a few times, and a water closet more times than I can count on my ten fingers, two opposable thumbs, and twelve webbed toes. (That’s what happens when cousins marry cousins, allegedly.)

I do actually know a chap from the West Country with webbed toes. As I recall, he was a very good swimmer. I don’t know if his parents were cousins, but he has never married.

I’ve no idea why or how the expression, “coming out of the closet” came to mean a gay person telling people other than themselves that they are gay.

Did you know that the word gay when used to describe, well, gay people is actually an acronym?
It was coined during riots in the late sixties after New York police raided a gay pub called the Stonewall Inn. Placard carrying protestors produced placards with the word GAY painted on them and the words, Good As You.
I don’t think any of them were Cavaliers, but you can never tell just by looking, although ridiculous boots and a large floppy hat with a feather might be a bit of a giveaway I suppose.

When I was an apprenti attending college in the seventies, one of my landladies had a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel called, wait for it … Oliver Cromwell. Witty, what?

I know what Master Spitfire means about closets smelling of history. Water closets need a good ten minutes for recent history to dissipate to a breathable level, whereas old closets always seems to smell of old books. Perhaps that was just the lingering smell of the bog-rolls available at the time. I wonder if there was a shortage of “back of the privvy door” literature in days of plague gone by a-cause people went out panic buying the complete works of Old Will or the King James bible.

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:lol::lol:
Excellent stuff Fruity, you’re in great form there, a lovely roll of wit.;-):slight_smile:

I actually knew a Mary and Gay, an old mate of mine, Gay Talbot married a local girl called Mary Byrne, no kidding, they moved to Londing from Dubling, sadly they eventually parted, or so I’m told by my all gossip knowing wife, her info is more reliable than the FBI.:smiley:

“Good As You” Never knew that, makes a bit more sense now, thanks for telling me.:wink:

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I had to watch one of those old weepie films the wife loves so much over the Christmas, I say had to watch because the wife insisted she wanted to see it on the big screen TV, and I wasn’t going upstairs to watch something else, enough said there.:slight_smile:

Anyway the gist of the story was about a 50 something woman who has been married all her adult life to the same man, and now he has found a younger someone else who he’s madly in love with and keeps telling his new idol that “his wife doesn’t understand him” you know the usual manure, all these randy old gits shell out to young gullible girls.;-):slight_smile:

The point I’m getting at is when the wife is out with her husband having their last evening together she starts crying then says to him “Frankie, how could you do this to me?, I’ve given you the best years of my life”

“I’ve given you the best years of my life” How many times have I heard that before in films, on TV, in books, and indeed live from older women in pubs when they weren’t getting on with their husbands/partners/whatever.

I’m not taking the husbands side here, in my opinion he’s s very stupid man to think he can start all over again with a far younger woman and things will all work out honky dory, but when he’s bitten hard he might come back to his senses, which actually happens in the film, the younger woman was only after his money, and he finally returns to the wife and everything ends well.
Then the expected comment from my missus
“Serves him bloody well right the auld eject, if it was me I wouldn’t have him back”
I said nothing, I know which side me bread is buttered on. :-):wink:

Now, what I don’t understand is why do only women say “I’ve given you the best years of my life” is it exclusive to them? are the best years of a man’s life not worthy of consideration? I honestly have never heard a man use those words on screen, in a book, or in person.

Come to think of it and to be fair I’ve never heard a woman say “my husband doesn’t understand me” either.

Oh Lord please don’t let me be misunderstood.
My wife understands me perfectly, in fact she can predict my every move, she seems to be tuned in to what’s going on inside my head.:smiley:

Long long time since I heard this, never thought I’d find it on youtube, there’s a little bit of new year stuff at the very end.

I’m going to have a few glasses of port now so that I’ll be in fine form to greet the neighbours at midnight when they all stick their masked heads out their front doors, we’ll all say bad cess to the old year, the worst I’ve ever had in my 75 years on this earth.:frowning:

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=/jhZzXSkqrRg

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Lovely job. One of Freddy Garrity’s non-manic leaping about the stage choons.

I’m an old romantic. I don’t like weepies. If I’m not watching a thriller or action fillum, I like a romance with a happy ending. I want good to triumph over evil, or the least bad to triumph at any rate.

Luckily my Lovely Cousin has similar tastes to me in both visual and audio entertainment with about an 80% overlap of stuff we both like. Even better, she won’t make me watch stuff I don’t like.
Sometimes I might not be as interested in a programme as she is so I will read a book or sometimes use the interwebular and sort of half watch, dipping in and out of the plot or show every now and then.

I’ve not actuarily thought about the expression, “I’ve given you the best years of my life”. It doesn’t really make much sense. How would you know whether the years you have lived were your best ones?

As for, “my wife/husband doesn’t understand me,” it’s just an excuse to cheat on them in my humble opinion. What it really means is, “I’m bored with my partner and I’m going to look elsewhere.”

My Lovely Cousin understands me. It’s not that we finish each other’s sentences, but we do often say the same thing at the same time, or sometimes she will say what I’m thinking or I will say what she is thinking.

It’s not magic. It’s not being psychic. It’s just that we have been together so long we respond to the same triggers.

It could be a comment from another person, an image on TV, a sound, passing something by the side of the road, and it reminds us both of the same thing at the same time such that one or other or both of us will say what it is that we both remember.

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’Tis indeed a blessing when both partners are understanding of each others good and bad points, give and take plays a very big part in that I think.:slight_smile:

I’m sick to the teeth with these yo-yo lockdowns, I can’t figure it out at all, as soon as the count goes down they open the floodgates again and up it rockets once more, then they have another 6 weeks lockdown and off we go again with exactly the same result, now we’re locked down again, the third time in 9 months, why not have one big one and get it done with?:wink:

I feel like a hermit, but luckily I’m well able to cut me own hair, I’ve forgotten what a good pint of Guinness stout tastes like, forgot how I used to cheat the other old lads at dominoes in the local, well what’s left of them by now, I know two have passed on, God rest them.:frowning:

I’m smoking far too many fags brought on by boredom, the weather is crap, I miss the company of my grandkids who always spent a lot of time in our house, I suspect mostly because of the wife’s great cooking.:slight_smile:

My ten quid daily flutter on the nags is no more since they closed the bookies again, I would never back a horse on line, that’s strictly for the big time gamblers, the minimum stake is 5 quid and I prefer to back 5 horses at 2 quid each so I can get a bit of entertainment and watch them run on the TV, I also miss the craic with the other pensioner punters in the bookie shop.

Yes to put it mildly I’m browned off, and finding it hard to sleep, so fed up am I that I have recently tuned into Fr. Murphy’s late night “Bible at Bedtime” program, how sad is that, but it helps to make me drowsy and ready for sleep (no offence meant Fr.).:lol:
Interesting bit of news on it tonight.

Fr. Murphy was saying that we can all sleep safely in our beds tonight as the devil was back in Heaven again, Trump veto’d God and pardoned him.
Or maybe I just dreamed that, it’s hard to tell the difference these dreary days.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=/VPIrbfkm8K4

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Yep, I was vetoed by the now wife on my first proposal, she is a good judge of character, it took a whole lot of change to gain approval.:-):wink:

The first proposal was not a marriage one.:lol::lol::lol:

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Yes any type of proposing can be tricky enough Spitty.;-):smiley:

When I was a teenager I was led to believe that girls had a two year advantage over a boy on the ways of life, so a girl of 18 would have more knowledge about life and “things” than a chap of 17, which was my age when I asked my now wife to marry me.

We had both been to an engagement party and drink was new to me back then, I had consumed several bottles of “Red Barrel” ale and as I was leaving her home on that warm Summers night I asked her would she marry me, we had known each other since we were children but had only been going out together for a year.

As far as I can remember she didn’t answer me and by the next night we went out i had completely forgotten about it, didn’t remember a thing about that night.
When were were seated in the picture house and waiting for the curtains to go up she asks me did I mean what I said the night of her friends engagement party. I honestly hadn’t a clue what she was talking about and said so, she kept it going all through the film and on the way home she finally told me that I had asked her to marry her.

So that was that, I said I was always going to ask her at some stage but hadn’t got the guts.
We were married the following year, that bit of Dutch courage has served me well, it’s nice to hear something good said about the demon drink for a change.:smiley:

My purely hypothetical question here is, seeing that women are two years ahead of men in the natural ways of the human world, could a person sue another person for talking advantage of a drunken youth two years behind that person in life’s experience? Bear in mind that this was a time when a man could be sued for “breach of promise”.
PS. I’m asking for an old friend who has his eye on a sprightly 86 year old widow who lives next door to him, he’s been married for 60 years now and wants out, he says his wife still doesn’t understand him.;-):lol:

I see poor Liam Reilly has passed away, a very nice man, God rest his soul.:frowning:

“Liam Reilly, the lead singer of Irish band Bagatelle, has died aged 65.The family of the pianist, singer and songwriter confirmed his passing in a statement today.*“With sad hearts, the family of Liam Reilly, musician, songwriter and frontman of Bagatelle, wish to confirm that he passed away suddenly but peacefully at his home on January 1st 2021” RTE news.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=/FSOp7Ii6i1E

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Clarity of mind is no substitution for the rough and tumble, and never will be.

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Oh I only ever made one proposal to my Lovely Cousin, and 'twas of a, “will you marry me” nature. I knew better than to make any other type of proposal.

At the age of fourteen she told me that no man would ever see her naked until her wedding night. At the time I thought it was a general off the cuff comment, but now I know it was a set up, a test and a legally binding contract aimed specifically at me.

She asked me out three years later. The “contract” was never ever mentioned, but I never forgot it.