Use the door next time?

Shouty Grandad noticed an advert in the paper. Free loft insulation. He invited the chap round to do a survey and a couple of days later the gang came round to fit the fibreglass insulation.
The lads commented on how lovely and roomy the loft was, how nicely Shouty Grandad had moved all the boxes into the middle of the loft on the boards. He left them to it, sat down and tried to make the Freeview work....again...after I fixed it. (sigh)
CRUNCH - one of the workmen put his foot through the living room ceiling, right over where Shouty Grandad was sitting. Dust, plaster, artex and fibreglass rained down from the hole.
"You couldn't have picked a worse place to come through." advised Shouty grandad, the largest room and the only one with an artex pattern on the ceiling.
"I'm fine." shouted the workman.
Anyway, they extricated the workman from the ceiling, assessed the damage and called the boss who duly arrived and stared at the hole.
"Doesn't look too bad," said the foreman confidently,"a bit of plaster board, paint and artex, sorted."
"I don't think we'll get the fibreglass out of the carpet or the three piece suite though, do you?" asked Shouty Grandad?
Nanny gave him an old fashioned look and wandered off to get the hoover.
After the workmen had gone, Shouty Grandad phoned me at work to ask if i would look up on the internet, the effect of breathing in fibreglass. I assured him he did not have, nor would be able to claim for asbestosis and went back to work.
You know this story will run and run.

Beer Fridge and Cadavers

The toilet seat fixings on Shouty Grandad's loo broke, so he repaired them with modified bolts and a bit of old bicycle inner-tube. When I visited, he had just completed the repair and this was the sight that greeted me. I said to him, "If you need 4 screwdrivers and a torch to go to the toilet, you need to go see a doctor!

This week Little Fink and I visited the local shop. I was standing in the queue when I heard an almighty crash come from the aisle where Little Fink was last seen. I rushed to the scene, to find Little Fink on her hands and knees, head down and crashed head first into the bottom of the beer fridge. She was fine but there was a massive dent in the fridge!

Shouty Grandad has been up to his old tricks again. He and Nanny were visiting a charity shop last week. Shouty Grandad fancied a sit down in the large leather sofa on display, he rested his head back and shut his eyes. Nanny browsed and finally returned to Shouty Grandad who was being closely observed by a concerned elderly lady. "Come on Grandad I'm ready to go now." Said Nanny. As Shouty Grandad came to and noticed the old lady, she mouthed quietly, "Thank God! I thought he was dead!"

Shouty Grandad has previous for this. Once, he was hoovering out the back seats and floor of the car, noticed how comfy the back seat was so laid back in the sun and fell asleep. The neighbour checked him 3 times before having the courage to pull on his legs. "Oh Shouty, I thought you were dead!" he told him afterwards.

Stop Press - Shouty Grandad interviewed by Police

This morning Shouty Grandad and Nanny joined me for a little gentle sloe picking. As Shouty Grandad and I enjoyed a hot cup of tea in the entrance to the field he said, "I got stopped by the Police last week, I didn't tell your mam."
Oh brother, the thoughts that ran through my head - his driving is notorious, he likes to save money on running repairs to his camper van so uses the brakes very infrequently. He often boasts that he has never had to buy new brake pads. So I had to admit to myself that I wasn't surprised.
However, as the tale unfolded it transpired that he was standing at the bus stop near Sainsbury's chatting to one of the regular old lady's who wait for the the bus, when a police car pulled up, a lady police officer got out and took Shouty Grandad to one side.
She asked him how long he'd been there (about 10 mins), where had he been? (Sainsbury's, hence shopping bags), had he been over the park at Verulamium? (to the swimming pool an hour before but not in the grounds).
She seemed satisfied with his answers, did a police check on his name and address, all clear. She then explained that he matched the description of someone they were looking for in the immediate area, the only discrepancy was the suspect was a 40 year old man. Shouty Grandad quipped, "Well love, if you think I look 40, you can put the cuffs on me now and take me away!"

What crime had the suspect, they were looking for, committed?

Indecent Exposure, (a flasher).

Holy Dawkins is there no end to Shouty Grandad's shame?

Dig Dig Digaroonie

This weekend, the Fink Family, Mr, Mrs and Little, plus Nanny went off to deepest Oxfordshire (near Wantage) to the Weekend Wanderers Metal Detecting Rally. This was 3 days of metal detecting across 21 fields, evening entertainment (casino, live band, bucking bronco all in the on site barns) and lots of good food and cider.

We met many of the metal detecting buddies I converse with on various detecting forums and gained a lot of knowledge from them. What a smashing bunch of people. I held a 'gold noble' (a gold coin from the 14th century, about the size of a 50p, beautifully ornate and as fresh as the day it was created despite being 700 years old) which the guy in the next pitch to us had found on Saturday, He was interviewed by Dr Alice for Digging For Britain and our rally will be a feature in a December episode.

Nanny and I didn't have any luck at all but Little Fink came up trumps. One of the detectorists from the forum I go on was so impressed by her enthusiasm for history, he gave her one of his metal detectors. So we couldn't be more lucky than that. Little Fink also found a piece of 'worked flint' which would be between 4000 and 2500 years old, Mr Fink found a large folded lead sheet and I found a lead ball (either a weight or a musket ball). Nanny found the biggest horseshoe known to man!

On Friday night we all went to the barn for Westons' cider and to chat to the other rallyists. Later in the evening Little Fink was getting tired so Nanny offered to go back to the tent with her. On the way they visited the portaloo, while Little Fink was in there, a drunk couple were having a domestic nearby, Nanny got nervous and crammed in the portaloo with Little Fink. Just at that moment the guys from the adjacent tent arrived back in their Transit van and accidentally bumped it into the portaloo. Cue screams and panic from inside the plastic toilet! No harm done, thankfully.

All in all we had a brilliant weekend, learned loads and made lots of new friends.

Not meant to be

On Saturday I had decided I would go metal detecting with the club I joined earlier in the year. The club had been recommended to me by a digging pal (much more dedicated than I am) so I took his advice and emailed the organiser. I wrote, "I really enjoy digging but the club I belong to goes to the same places all the time, so I'd like to join yours please." After I had sent the email I noticed a misspelling. I had put 'dogging' instead of 'digging'. Nooooooooooooo. The organiser wrote back, howling with laughter. The registration for the club was closed but he said i had made him laugh so much he was going to let me join.

So I had plucked up the courage to go and meet him and the other members of the club, only to go to my car at 7am to find the above sight greeting me. I changed the wheel but I didn't go digging, I only had one of those 'comedy' spare tyres that you can only do 50mph on, so by the time I would have got there they would have started digging and I would be wandering amongst the cars on my own. Hmm, not a good look considering my previous contact with the club!

Shouty Grandad back on form

Shouty Grandad has been out of sorts recently, he's been suffering from some sort of chest infection which has affected his breathing and kept him indoors out of the cold wind for a few weeks. He is nearly back to 'normal' now and has been let loose on the streets again.

On Thursday he and Nanny went into town for some shopping, there was a bitter wind blowing and the queue for the bus grew and grew. They and several other OAPs waited over an hour for the bus, which must have been removed from service or broken down. In the end Grandad said to the other queueees, "We should hijack the next bus and make it go where we want." The OAPs nodded in solidarity. The teenagers giggled at the thought of an OAP take over.

A bus hove into view, Grandad stepped up to the plate, the bus stopped, Grandad got on. The teenagers were howling by this time. Grandad explained to the bus driver that he and his fellow TOGs were frozen, their bus had not come and that he, the bus driver, should take them all home.

Unfortunately for Shouty Grandad his demands were not met. The bus driver was Polish and had no idea what he was going on about! Poor Shouty Grandad.

He's off to Australia for 4 weeks starting next month. 'Hello' international incident!

Do-do-dooo

Did I tell you about Freecycle? It's an online community group that offers up things that people don't want anymore, if you want that thing, you respond to the 'offerers' email and go round and collect the item.

I offered something, the nice lady responded and we arranged for her to come round. as I opened the door I knocked against another Freecycle bag awaiting collection and a little furby voice chirped, "Do-do-dooo, boring!"

How embarrassing!

Bring me my Crab Hammer!

Friday night, Mr Fink took me out to our local fish restaurant for a meal to celebrate our 8th wedding anniversary. We enjoyed oysters and grilled sardines for starters. For mains I asked for crab and he had Sea Bream. When the crab arrived, I realised the difference between dressed crab and whole crab. Guess which I had ordered! Mr Fink had finished his dinner by the time I had dismembered mine! It looked like an alien autopsy by the time I had finished!

It was lovely, we had a smashing time and laughed as much as we did 8 years ago. Thank you Mr Fink. We returned home to Torchwood and I have to admit I cried a little.

Jobsworth

I went to the new part of one of the Trust's hospitals to work today. I was keen to use my new swipe card that would gain me access to the swanky new building. I was also nervous as I wasn't completely sure which way to go to the department and I know I am totally hopeless with my sense of direction.

I approached the automatic doors and swiped my access card. Presto, the door opened. as I stepped through, a young woman tried to sneak in behind me before the door had time to close.

"Do you have an ID badge? Where is your swipe card, you are not supposed to follow someone into the building like that, it makes a mockery of security." She replied that she worked in the pharmacy and had done since the place opened. I huffed and flounced away.

About 5 minutes later, after wandering round half the hospital, I was back at the front doors again. I am so rubbish at finding my way I had got lost and gone in a big circle. I re-entered and this time found my way to my department, only to see the young woman already changed into her work gear of lab coat, gloves and goggles, working away, where as I was just arriving with all my bags looking hot and bothered. Thankfully she didn't say anything but I knew what she was thinking!

'Ello Darlin'

Mrs Catsitter from 2 doors down is having her end of terrace garden wall rebuilt as it was becoming unsafe.

I went upstairs to get changed after work today and looked out of the bedroom window to see a young bricklayer busily engaged in his craft. I watched him for a few minutes - checking his workmanship was up to scratch, you understand. so for a giggle I sent a text message to Mrs Catsitter.... "Lookin good in the garden and the wall's not bad either!"

I took another little look out of my window to see...Mrs Catsitter showing the young brickie her phone and pointing up at my bedroom window. ARGH. The shame!

Whatever next

I moan about the children in my local area being 'a bit rough and ready'. Some of them have an uphill struggle ahead to make a good life for themselves due to the people that are bringing them up and the way they are spoken to by their parents. I know most of the 'usual suspects' by name and actually like most of them and hope they make something of themselves rather than follow the path of least resistance like a lot of the people they look up to.

You may think I'm a snob, you may think I am stuck up. I like to think I am on the side of the children. Example - tonight after we had dropped Little Fink's kit off at the Scout Hut ready for Cub Camp tomorrow, we went to put the car in the garage and I noticed a boy on the roof. I had a word with him about how dangerous it was and how he could fall through. He took my advice with good grace and looked a little sheepish. Little Fink went out to play with him and one of her girl friends.

I happened to look out of the window at them playing ans saw he was swinging a long stick around, it was 8.30pm and I thought Little Fink should be coming in anyway so I called her in.

I saw that the 9 year old boy didn't have a long stick, he had something else. Can you guess what it was? Bet you can't...

Yes, it's an epee, a fencing sword, a real one. 

He 'found' it, along with another one, apparently the other one was gone when he went back for it. He, Little Fink, her friend and I had a little chat and we all decided it would be best if he handed the sword over to me to be disposed of, rather than him getting arrested for having an offensive weapon!!! HE IS 9 years old!

You couldn't make it up.

 

1. Open mouth, 2. Insert foot

Mr Chips and Billie are at the vets, they are being treated to prevent flystrike - a very horrible thing to happen to a rabbit. I check Mr Chips morning and night in the summer. Last year I checked him in the morning, he was fine -in the afternoon, he had fly eggs in the fur round by his bottom. (see "Fingers Crossed" separate blog for the full story). So to prevent all this unpleasentness I put Mr Chips in one box and tricked Billie into the other one. (She has the right name as she was furious to be in the box - Billie Fury???!) She was stamping in the box so hard it shook. i took them to the vet recommended by Agatha (rabbit rescuer) and they (the people at the surgery) were lovely. Mr Chips is to have a lump removed from his side, have a Myxy jab and be treated against flystrike (last year this involved having his bum and tail shaved and goo painted on his bottom - very undignified). Billie will have the Flystrike treatment and have the matted fur on her bib removed - this is from all her digging and having the shortest front legs known to man/rabbit which means she cant clean it properly! They are being kept in overnight so they can have the treatments after Mr Chips' operation.

Mr Fink was talking to his Big Sis on the phone (also a rabbit owner) and describing the flystrike preventative treatment. "The vet shaves their bums and paints it with goo," he explained. "You can get your hubby done for free, Mr Fink is booked in for next week!" I chirped in humorously. (I thought). Big Sis said something to Mr Fink, he relayed, "Do you have the HDVBG (or similar) as well?" I thought we were still talking about hair removal so I said, "What's that? A back, sack and crack wax?" They both heard me and a horrified husband said to his sister, "You're alright, I have to live with her." (She had been talking about another vaccination you can get for rabbits." Oh bruther!

Shh, Just between you and I....

You'll be glad to hear I am entering the final round of my 2 week long bout with the Snot Fairy and the Man-Cold Goblin. Mr Fink however has succumbed for the second time to the Man-Cold Goblin.

My main problem was sleeping. As soon as I went horizontal, I started to cough and my nose just ran and ran. I had a bright idea to stop the nose-tap. I just bunched up some loo roll (Mr Fink had used all the lovely soft aloe-vera infused man-sized tissues and left me with the scratchy toilet paper) and plugged my nostril with it, turned on my side and drifted off to sleep. I awoke a couple of hours later, rested but with loo roll 'glued' to the inside of my nose. Boy! that makes your eyes water when you pull it off. Ye-ouch. The other problem, coughing, was easily sorted, just go to sleep sitting up. (as an asthma sufferer, I know this works wonders when your chest is wheezing). I wedged pillows round me for support, packed the cushions up behind me and settled my head back, in between the vertical bars of the iron bedstead head - which, cleverly, stops your head rolling from side to side as you nod off. Surprisingly comfy.

I woke up at 'stupid-o-clock' in the morning with my head stuck in the head rail of the bed and a crick in my neck. I must have tried to turn over, got my head caught between the metal uprights and nodded off again. How can you get your husband to take you seriously when you have to wake him in the dead of night saying, "Help, I've got my head stuck in the bed!"

I'm just glad the worst is over. (crossed fingers....toes.....eyes etc etc)

Finks taking over the world

After making Shouty Grandad speechless with her Cub shield the other week, I thought we'd had our moment of triumph for this year. Nope.

I picked her up from school and she gave me the news that a story of hers is to be published in the school's story book! the same day I received news that I had won a school competition to design the look of the new tyre-play area!

Today the builders came in to install the tyres to my design, the children would then be let loose on them to climb and play (on the tyres, not the builders!)

I spoke to the chief builder who pointed out that none of the tyres in my design were sticking up out of the ground for the children to stand on.

The builder showed me some designs of other installations they had done.

I chose one - it was much better than the one I had designed and I thought the children would get much more out their one!

I only have one question, as it's not my design, do I have to give the chocolate prize back?

Coz, if I do, there might be a problem!

The State of The Nation

Picture the scene - the front door bell at Fink Mansions rings, Mrs Fink wombles down the hall to answer it. She finds the little roughty toughty five year old girl from the house opposite.

"Can Little Fink come out to play?"
"I'm sorry love, she is at her Nannie's house, she'll be back later, I'll get her to come and find you when she gets back. OK?"
"Oh, I'll probly (sic) be in the pub by then."
???????????

By the way - don't miss the Doctor Who Prom on Radio Three on Sunday from 11am to 1pm, (you can even tape it on Sky plus) see http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/s4/misc/proms/ for details.

The Results of the Indoor Olympics

I knew there was going to be trouble for me last night when Little Fink and LMI were preparing for their sleepover and told me I had to come down in the morning with a white T-shirt and white socks, ready for their 'Indoor Olympics'.

Anywhoo, I was rudely awakened at 9am with a cup of tea and a request to hurry up as it was starting. First we had to pick straws for a bye, to play the winner in the final. Then we played several Wii games, of which I was hopeless all the way through. Little Fink beat me hands down at tennis and LMI nearly burst a blood vessel trying to do the boxing - I had to call it a day on them to save the furniture from damage!

The final results were, Little Fink and LMI joint first and awarded the kimono of righteousness and the baseball cap of winningness. I came third as was awarded the bronze (plastic) cricket bat of failure. (to my shame.)

In the afternoon, I, Little Fink, LMI, Marsha and Goober went to the cinema to see WALL:E. I really enjoyed it but felt there could have been more visual gags and a bit less story. Hey ho.
Now I'm looking forward to Madagascar 2 and Hellboy 2.

Look out! Rant alert!

It's happened. I'm officially one of Terry's TOGs (Terry Wogan's Old Geezers). There are so many things niggling away at me at the moment I could have a Micheal Douglas journey (Falling Down) any day now.

Item 1. The mothers at school. About 8 years ago the children of the primary school Little Fink goes to, made some totem poles out of redundant junk found in the school, old chairs, bits of table, remnants of wood etc. They made the sculptures, painted them and had them planted in the school grounds. They looked great, really original. None of the school children has defaced these poles or touched them in all that time, until this week. This week when the 6-7 years old moved up to the playground in readiness for the next school year. 3 separate mothers completely ignored the fact that their children were breaking these sculptures, climbing all over them, hitting them with the broken off bits. I am sick and tired of women not being responsible for their childrens' actions. I turned to one and said, "Is that your son climbing on that statue? It has been here for nearly 10 years and your son has been here less than a week and is about to break it." She didn't say anything to me and tried to call her son away to no avail. He is obviously used to doing just exactly what he likes, as are the others.

Item 2. Of which no 'crime' is being committed, apart from the imagined one in my mind!
There is a driver who parks his green Vauxhall Astra outside my back gate some nights and it makes my blood boil. He lives about 200 yards around the corner in a 3 storey town house with 2/3 parking spaces at the front of it. It drives me mad, why does he have to park there? When the whole road is empty, he parks outside my gate. WHY? I want to write a note on his car, report him for a phantom infringement, just get him away from my home and out of 'my' parking space. Yes i know you all pay your road tax, so do I. But why does he have to park outside my house when there is more than enough space outside his house? ARGH

OK rant over, just enough left in me to say, Little Fink starts Ju-Jitsu on Thursday, with the tutors that used to teach Mr Fink! Roll on Thursday!

Perfect picture

I was trolling the web and found this. Oh boy I laughed!!!!!

Shouty Grandad strikes again

I am a turkey vulture. Yes indeed

My head is bare to prevent rotting flesh from adhering to it.

To keep cool, I poop on my legs and feet.

My main defence is projectile vomiting.

I am SO awesome.

(I love the smile on the vulture's face.)

Anyhoo, the further adventures of Shouty Grandad. Did you know, the series "Adventures of a Call Girl" with Billie Piper - which is rather fab - started life as a series of weblogs written a few years ago, they were adapted into a book and then into a TV series. I wonder if anyone will pick up the "Adventures of Shouty Grandad"? this time next year, we'll be millionaires!

On Thursday, (Friday is Shouty Grandad's usual day for mischief) he went into town to pay some bills at the bank. The bank's cashiers are upstairs, access gained by a couple of escalators. He sorts out a couple of bills, checks some direct debits, one appears to not have been cancelled despite his instructions. As he walks away from the cashier, he is thinking about the uncancelled direct debit and a nagging feeling that he has forgotten to do something.

He starts down the escalator and suddenly remembers he needs to pay the phone bill at the bank, so turns round and tries to walk up the down moving stairs.

Picture the scene - in slo-mo, a man in his early 60's, bad back, sore leg, shorts, deck shoes and socks, rucksack on his back. turns on his heel, faces uphill, his hands on the rails continue to go down, his feet grip the steps and he loses his balance. He travels the rest of the escalator upside down, knees bleeding where they have caught the teeth on the edge of the moving steps. He reaches the bottom on his back, like a flipped over tortoise resting on his rucksack. Staff from all corners of the bank rush to his aid, he has made so much noise falling down the stairs that staff from upstairs AND downstairs come to see what has happened.

His shorts are covered in blood and a member of staff says, "Shall I call an ambulance?". "No" says Shouty Grandad. "Why not?" "No bones broken and, I've still got to go upstairs and pay the phone bill!"

Did he go home and get changed before going to the dentist? Again picture the scene - small children waiting to go into the dentist when after having his filling, Shouty Grandad appears in the doorway covered in blood. You can imagine the kids dentist phobias forming by the moment.

(The only good thing to come out of this is, now when Shouty Grandad winds up Little Fink, usually there is nothing she can do to him to get him back, but yesterday all she had to do was press the bruise on his knee to extract a piercing scream from him - hours of endless fun!)

There is never a dull moment in Shouty Grandad's world!

What's that noise?

All day Tuesday I kept as busy as I could, tidying up, putting things away, washing clothes etc. When I was taking some bits and pieces upstairs, I stood in our bedroom and could hear an unfamiliar noise...like a computer running or the heating being on. I tried to pin point the sound. It was most noticeable by our wardrobe but not coming from inside, perhaps the loft then? I'll get Mr Fink to check when he gets home.

I carried on, still aware of the noise but unable to locate the source.

Mr Fink came in and noticed it, checked the loft, nothing. We had tea and a few glasses of wine then he went to bed. He said he couldn't possibly sleep with that noise droning away all night so went round to the neighbour to ask them to check their loft and bedroom for anything that would make an alarm clock/electronic kind of noise. They humoured him and checked - nothing.

(A similar incident happened when Little Fink was about 2. We could hear a noise like feedback on a microphone coming from the living room. We checked everywhere, then became convinced it was the pother neighbours smoke alarm. We got in touch with them and it wasn't that - in the end we worked out it was Little Fink's karaoke tape recorded issuing a feedback noise! oops)

Mr Fink eventually fell asleep, I went to bed, could still hear the noise. About 4.30 am I went to the loo and it suddenly dawned on me (I have all my best ideas on the throne). I checked in the box of bits and bobs I had taken upstairs earlier in the day and lo and behold - the source of the noise was revealed...

An upside down Furby in the bottom of the box. I'm sorry to say he hasn't been the same since but I'm hoping to take him to The Oracle's Furby Hospital later so she can take a look at him!

What should I tell the neighbour when she asks?