Catchers and Keepers

I've been reading a blog by an American mother which I've found thought provoking and bloody funny.http://kvetchmom.wordpress.com/ try to take time out to read a couple of her stories, great writer.

Well Kvetchmom makes a good point about friends, in one of her blogs. She calls them 'Catchers', those friends that dust you down, stand you up and set you back on the right path when you are feeling low. the original idea came from watching a youtube video of a man catching a toddler who had climbed up the outside of an escalator and fell. No drama, just caught the boy in his arms and sent him off back to his mum.

I have several Catchers in my life and also some Keepers. Keepers to me are Friends that I don't communicate with every week but  when we do catch up, we are at ease with each other and can put the world to rights. Friends that would do anything for you or with you. These friendships last a lifetime and I am very grateful to all my Catchers and Keepers, you know who you are. xxx

The Doctor and one of 'those' conversations

Left, my favourite picture - a blue footed booby! I love it's expression!

Well, Doctor Who - terrific or what. Personally I think he is better with a companion but only because it allows us to probe his psyche more than when he is alone. I really enjoyed Sunday's episode. I really can't wait till the Christmas episode.

On a different note. I put Little Fink to bed tonight and she had a thoughtful look on her face. "Mum, what are those tube things in that blue box in the bathroom?" I realised what she was talking about, brought them out and gave her the 'talk'. she did very well, hardly giggled or went, "Yuck" at all! Well done Little Fink!

Coincidence or too much TV?

Did you watch Torchwood, Children of Earth? The basic story is...some aliens come down to earth and threaten to kill everyone on the planet unless they are given 10% of all the children on earth. The 'powers that be' decide that this is OK and start to decide which children should be rounded up and transported for the aliens to whisk away. They choose children from council estates, ones that don't appear to have a future. The health and government agencies tell the parents the children will be eligible for a free inoculation to protect them from the aliens and all they have to do is let the children go and have the injection and everything will be fine.

Now, I've been watching the news and something called Swine Flu has been making the headlines. The government and health agencies are preparing us for mass inoculations using the vaccine created for the avian flu epidemic.

Sound familiar? Or just my paranoia?

Memories and Glasto

Mr Fink and I have been having Glastonbury in our front room, air bed on the floor and as much cold cider as you can shake a stick at, TV sound loud and proud through the super duper stereo and plenty of good music to choose from.

The Specials, Franz Ferdinand, Pendulum, Madness, Paulo Nutini, Lady Ga Ga, The Noisettes, Jamie T and Tom Jones (The REAL King of Pop). Sadly no Nick Cave (Mr Fink and Little fink think he is great - bit morbid for me) and we purposely missed The Boss and The Quo.

Watching Madness and The Specials brought back a host of memories from the early eighties. I remember playing a version of rugby at break time which involved a pair of balled up gloves and a massive 'bundle' with boys and girls trying to retrieve the 'ball' and get it to their end.

I remember my friend asking me, "Who's your favourite gangster?" and me innocently (I had not heard the record) saying, "Al Capone."

I remember the same friend writing on her bedroom walls with black marker, one day I went to call for her, she was due back any time so her mum let me into her room and I had a field day writing teenage angst all over the place - very cool.

I remember once having a couple of mouthfuls of cider then pretending to be drunk? (heaven knows why?)

I remember Wattoo Wattoo a crazy Belgian cartoon involving a black and white bird and another one called Baron Munchausen who was a head on feet - I never really 'got' that one?

I remember buying a wooden spoon and my friend and I giving it back and forth for Christmas for years. I remember us buying babies dummies and walking down the street sucking them. Buying cherries and sucking them till the stones where clean. Lentil fights in Geography lesson. I remember the Porky's films, Discos 'up the Civic' and rollerskating. I remember my friend and I inventing an imaginary friend Abercrombie. I remember games of Monopoly with Ched in the Summer holidays that went on for weeks (we took out all the bad cards!). I remember late Summer evenings in the park, sitting on the swings enjoying each others company. I remember everyone wearing donkey jackets from Top Shop, mine came from the building site my dad worked on and I got the 'Laings' logo off it with nail varnish remover. I remember my jeans being to wide and 'dingy' so I used the treadle sewing machine to take them in so far that I had to lie down and put them on inside out - ankle first and peel them onto my legs. Wonderful days. Lots of smiles.

The Big Picture

I love chatting to Little Fink, over breakfast this morning we've covered, bullying, violence to children (after an article on the news), organised religion (the pros and cons), cults, utopia, corruption in government and how to make the world a better place!

We've come to the conclusion that the world would be a better place if people were just nice to each other.

How profound.

On a different tack, Mr Fink was relating the tale (or should that be 'tail') of his quest for edible fruit. Mr Fink finds it hard to eat fruit that has a blemish or a bruise and certainly would never touch a blackened banana. For his lunch he bought some pears, all in pristine condition, he left them on the kitchen worktop until he needed them. When he opened his lunch the next day, he noticed lots of little holes in the pears? He came to realise that in the night, the cat/s must have jumped up onto the kitchen side and sunk their fangs into his pears!!! Poor Mr Fink, no fruit that day!

Lady Driver Event

Our local Alfa Romeo dealer/servicing garage offered a 'Lady Driver Event' last night, partly to promote the new Alfa and also to help Laydees be more confident in their driving.

I went along with a friend for moral support! On arrival I was shown to my parking space! (They had staff patrolling the car park while we were inside, to keep our cars safe!) We were invited to have drinks and take part in a 'name the part' quiz, where there were 10 car parts on a table and you had to guess them - I got about 7/10.
Then an ex-Chief Insp. (I knew him when I worked at the local police) gave a talk on road rage, body language, defensive driving and keeping yourself safe in a confrontation.
Next we went into the workshop and I changed a wheel using a scissor jack.
This was all fine practising on the emergency spare wheel (which was as big as a normal wheel on my car!) but when I asked to try the proper wheel, I couldn't lift it off the ground! That would be good, I could get my self home but I'd have to leave my spanking new alloy wheel at the side of the road as I couldn't lift it into the boot!!
Then we were shown which fluids to check regularly and why. There was a light buffet and another drink.
Lastly we were treated to a rather dishy martial arts expert showing us some self defence techniques. How to get out of a strangle hold, how to get away if someone grabs your arm etc. He was lovely but sadly (Even though I was sitting very straight) didn't pick me out for a demonstration. When I got home and told Mr Fink (Green belt - Ju-Jitsu) he insisted on a demo and I am now covered in bruises all up my arms!

I'd recommend it - the Lady Driver Day, not the fight with Mr Fink!

Shouty Grandad starts the revolution

You may think Shouty Grandad has been laying low, keeping quiet? No, he is still causing aggro and pain to the general populace, especially those nameless, worker bees that are the front line of our commercial world. Only Shouty Grandad would ask a Sainsbury's shopfloor worker why the bread has gone up 5p in the last week. We all know, these people (and I have served my time as one of them) are not 'in the know' they are the thin blue line that meets the public but has the least information about the service or product.

Pity, then, the cold caller on the phone, probably in Delhi or Calcutta, phoning random English phones until someone, in the middle of The Horse of The Year Show (thank you very much) answers the phone. The legend that is...Shouty Grandad.

The lady from the land to the East is trying to get Shouty Grandad to change his electric and gas supplier to the company that she represents. She tells him how she can match his current supplier's bill and better it (don't forget she is having to repeat everything she says 3 times and at varying speeds as Shouty Grandad can only understand the very Northern and very local accents)! He then launches the fightback, the arsenal of Shouty Grandad, his humongous knowledge of all things financial. He asks her how many therms he gets at the initial price, how many at the second, how does this relate to his current supplier, what discount for cash. etc etc. in the end he blinds her with science. As his parting shot, he says.. "I wouldn't change over my power supplier on the strength of a phone call anyway, I need to sit and work out your prices."

And in her best angry Asian voice, she shouts, "WHAT ARE YOU WASTE MY TIME?!"

Now she knows how it feels. It's a small step Shouty Grandad, but it is the start of the fight back, the revolution!

Deep and Meaningful? nope

I was having a conversation with Mr Fink in the car the other day and we were considering the difference between the sexes.
He wondered why women always seemed to be dashing about, worrying about every little thing and always close to panic mode? He said we should be more like men, laid back and chilled out.
I put it to him that women were always zooming around, doing eighteen different things at once because they had their eyes open to everything that goes on around them. I also put it to him that men (in general and through no fault of their own - its in their genes) that men are only aware of 60% of what goes on around them, so they only think about a maximum of 60% of things. Women on the other hand are aware of everything going on in their lives, their children's lives and the lives of their husbands', sometimes their friends and relatives too. So technically, women are thinking about 300% more stuff than men.

No wonder we get a bit tearful and shouty at times!

What have I done?

Mr Fink and I dropped Little Fink off at the Cub camp. It was 7pm, it was dark and there were ?herds? of rampaging Cubs charging about all over the place. We approached the 'building' where they will all be sleeping, the leaders have the 2 rooms nearest the doors (either to escape or to stop the Cubs escaping?) The other rooms have 8 children in each one. She is sharing a room with 7 boys.

When we arrived one of the little darlings was jumping off the top bunk and showing us the vast numbers of cakes he had in his pack for midnight snack. It was like a room full of Chimps. She looked a little overwhelmed and seeing as we had had all the other little chats I didn't know what else to do or say to her apart from give her a kiss, tell her I love her and say I hope she has a lovely time.

As we left her to it, one of her little mates kindly asked if she would like a wrestle.

Aaargh. My poor baby, what have I done??????

By Golly, I Think I've Cracked IT

Flushed with sucess with my no smoking I have decided to stop taking sugar in my tea and coffee.

I was just saying to Mr Fink, my next goal is to get fit and loose weight, if I cut out one food each week I should be thin in...oooh 3 years.

Next week I plan to give up lychees and curly kale. The week after, caviar and venison. I love it, a plan with no flaws.

I get the impression he is not listening to me?

A lot to catch up on

Where do I start? I went for a Christmas meal with my old department on Friday. The food was terrible. We joked about the chef being on holiday and the hardness of the pheasant, the tepid nature of the veg and the general disjointedness of the presentation of the courses. I won't name the pub but it's between Hilliers and the narrow bridge. Things started to brighten up as soon as I got home, mum was there with Little Fink, Ched and Doris were on their way.

The evening went well, lots of drink, talk and catching up - too much of all three for me by all accounts! Saturday was taken up with shopping and preparing for the Buncefield Bash - a celebration that we are all still here after such a large explosion. The guests arrived (apart from the ill ones and the stay at home ones). The kids played and drew a beautiful montage for my wall. We talked, shared stories, laughed, played games. Allan lit fireworks and we all admired Mrs Glum's Buncefield cake, a triumph of victoria sponge, chocolate icing, jelly baby firemen, chocolate matchstick girders and coloured coconut 'flames'. Wonderful. Best of all, my favourite thing... my friends all around me, enjoying each others company. We even managed to make some decisions about our joint holiday.

Ched and I stayed up after everyone sensible had gone home or to bed and talked the night through about all and nothing until 6am. Usually we only realise it's time for bed when the sun comes up - there's nothing like watching a sunrise with your best cuz.

Sunday morning came and went, Little Fink, Ched, Doris, and I went swimming in the afternoon and lost our hangovers while playing with the foam floats, along with Mr Glum and the Glumettes. Meanwhile Mr Fink made Finkpie (Shepherds pie to you!) and after feeding our faces with it and Doris's pickled onions, Mrs Glums pickled cabbage and beetroot (Ched and Doris have polished off a whole jar of Mrs Glum's pickled cabbage at one sitting before now!) I sat down for a siesta, Doris and Ched went to the Spice Girls concert and all was quiet.

A wonderful weekend, over too quickly.

Half Asleep or Half Awake?

Do you find that you can have perfectly normal conversations with people when they appear to be awake but are actually fast asleep, even if they have their eyes open? And I don't mean in the second hour of that technical meeting when it's 30 degrees and the air con has packed up.
I mean when you go to tuck your child in just bfore you go to bed. Usually they are sleeping away - perhaps drooling a bit. Well last week I went to check on Little Fink prior to retiring for the evening. As I pulled the quilt over her, she sat bolt upright, eyes open, looked straight at me and said,
"But what's it all for?" laid down, closed her eyes and back to sleep.- How deep and spooky is that?
A similar thing happened this week, it was 0300 (oh three hundred - why oh? ...oh my gosh it's early) it was 3am and I had been woken up by Mr Fink moving about in his sleep, it looked to me like he was having a nightmare, I remembered him saying he can get very vivid ones so I decided to help him and wake him up from it. I patted his arm and spoke to him gently and after a little while he came to but I could tell he was mostly still asleep.
"Were you having a bad dream?" I asked gently.
"I dreamed SOMEBODY stroked my arm and WOKE ME UP" he said. Well, there's gratitude for you! Hey Ho.