'Bonus blog. No purchase necessary. Try before you buy !'

What are you doing here ?

You know that I can't Blog any more.

Oh, you came to see what the cartoon was ?

Isn't the naive zebra/impunity, one of the best ? 'He's good people'

Well, it's just us two then, so we can be frank with each other.

Truth is, I am off sick today, so you get a bonus blog (Weeny, you have to say 'bwanus, bwanus' & wag your tail
excitedly as your mum would when feeding the dog.)

I have been feeling ick since Sunday, very odd sensations, like being drunk but without the fun or the
lack of moral inhibitions.

I can't focus very well either so this looks a bit blurry to me. Losing your faculties sucks, I'll be wearing a tartan
rug over my knees next. The girls think I may have concussion from being run over by the foals.
I didn't know you could get concussion from sitting down on your behind too quickly.

Norah Jones is today's Blog soundtrack, I was going to choose Gorecki's 3rd but it's a little early in the day
for full on angst.

The little guy with the freaky feet accompanies me, chirruping & mrrrr-mrrring every time I ask him how to spell
something.

On which note, I am officially impressed ! I have a friend who knows how to spell the word Srebrenica.

I would have had many attempts & possibly even written that version down, before rejecting it.

If you don't know what a Srebrenica is, fear not, to save you looking it up, or embarrassing yourself by asking
at a cocktail party, I can tell you it's one of those small, ornate guitars similar to a ukelele.
What do you mean you don't know what a ukelele is ?

I have been having withdrawal pangs from Blog so I have to tell you everything I was meaning to this week, in
the next couple of hours.

As for the decision & am I officially decided ?. No.

Every time a magpie does the 'wardle-oodle-ardle' noise, I wonder how it will be not to hear it daily.

The other factor is Blog. So many people have given me pleasure with their feedback, comments & input that
I wonder how 'Metropolitan Police Force Control Room - The Quest for Justice' will possible compare to
'Quest for Aragorn'. So, should I stay 10,000 miles away, just to entertain you lot ? Quite possibly, yes.

'I used to be indecisive, now ..'

Norah's finished warbling, tried Nickelback but they didn't hit the spot, so now it's Elgar's Cello Concerto.
Memories of Arundel.

Away from brain-ache stuff for a while, I want to tell you about my Gran.

Unconventional. Frequently foul-mouthed (you'd like her MTM). Repetitive.
Loving. Funny (often unintentionally) Fiery. Generous.

She calls me her little treasure & says she wouldn't swap me for all the tea in China, so she obviously
has poor fiscal judgement, but I get her drift.

Some 22 years ago, I remember we were out walking, on a sunny day. I remarked that I could
see 'bits of silver' in her hair. She informed me that she was using a new hairspray & that it must have
affected the colour of her hair. Such is my Gran's disdain for ageing, that I believed her. I understood
the concept of grey hair, I just didn't think it could possibly be happening to my vigorous 67 year old Gran.

My Gran once awoke to find some thieving scum of a burglar with his hand under her pillow, looking for her
valuables. She was entirely alone in the house. She got out of bed, furious, & demanded he leave immediately.
He tried to leave via the kitchen door, but she told him he had to exit, the same way he had entered.

She forced him to climb the draining board & squeeze through the tiny window above the sink.

When she regaled Mum & I with the tale, we looked at each other, imagining how things would have gone
if he had decided to stand his ground rather than run from this tiny, tenacious, woman.

The local Police responded well, fitting her a panic alarm. I discussed this with her, making sure she knew in
what circumstances she could use it & what sort of response she could expect. I emphasised how she could
use it if she saw or heard anything suspicious.

'But I don't like to disturb the Police, luvvie, I know they're busy' was her honest-to-goodness response.

My Gran's vocabulary would be a huge source of inspiration for Alan Bennett. She has a disturbing anal
swearing fixation, which is all the more incongruous from someone who appears so innocent.

I have to use the word a*** several times in this next bit, if I don't do the star thing then Hadleigh can't read
it, so bear with me. You know the rules by know, you have to say these out loud for maximum effect.

Anyone whose proposal doesn't meet with Gran's unqualified support is told they can

'Shove it up their a***'

When discussing the rights & wrongs of bottom-burps, her ethos is

'Tis a poor a*** that never rejoiced'

And when enquiring as to why someone may look less than happy her question will be

'What's the matter with you, has your face seem your a***'

I feel I must qualify this entry with one of those boring, but accurate 'this is all true' markers.

My Gran once recounted a story to Mum & I which had us blowing snot bubbles of mirth, whilst endeavouring
to keep straight faces.

She telephoned her local council to report a fault with her shower.

The hapless council employee told her the man would be out the following Monday to look at the offending shower.
Gran explained that this was not satisfactory & she wanted him sooner.
The girl explained Monday was the soonest he could attend.
'Well, in that case, you can shove it up your a***' was Gran's hearty riposte.

3 days later, on Monday, Gran waits all day for the man to come.
Oddly, he does not.
She rings to complain.

Wouldn't you love to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation ?

'But Mrs Ellis, when you told me to shove it up my a*** I assumed you didn't want your shower attended to ?'

Quite often, in my previous normal job, we would tap our head when on the phone to indicate to others in the
room that we were taking a call from someone whose cheese had slipped off the cracker. They then had the
option of listening to your side of the call '... yes, of course I believe that the only way you will remain safe
from Martian invasion is to line your bedroom with Bacofoil' or, alternatively, they could listen in.

One of the most amusing was Bob who would cut in on your call. At the point when you had just finished listening
to an incredibly weary neighbour saga & was wondering exactly how to tell the pond-life they should just move,
Bob would interject 'I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you very well, would you repeat that ?'.
This meant you had to endure the whole saga again.
Most didn't even notice that a female had taken the call, but a male was asking them to repeat it.
Having re-read this, I wish to make it clear that Bob was a control room operator, not a nutter.
Then again ...

I have a mental impression of a small, local council office, somewhere in West Yorkshire.

Whenever Mrs Ellis calls, the operator taps their head, so that all may be party to the profanities.

She quite often doesn't listen to a word I say.
I could reply to her question 'How are you ?' by saying 'Great, shacked up with the England Rugby Team, we take turns
doing the dishes' & she would say 'Lovely, the bin men were late again on Tuesday'.

She has been planing her demise since she was 60. Every time we made arrangements to see her,
the reply would be 'God Willing'. She also spends a lot of time in the past. This isn't a criticism, I do too & I don't
have her age as an excuse.

She doesn't really know what's happening in my life.
When I asked Mum if she'd told her about me going to NZ & the reason why, she replied that she wasn't
sure how she was going to tell her, especially as Gran thought I was still with the previous boyfriend.

Whenever I tell her of the latest episode of my private life, she listens with every indication of taking it
all in then always offers the same reply. Even when my tale has been one of heartbreak, misery & woe.

'Oh well, as long as you're happy luvvie'

Please don't think from this that I would want my Gran any other way.
She is one of the girls who worked 'in service' during WW2 & has the most tremendous
work ethic. Without going into too many details she has had the kind of experiences which
would make lesser types curl into the foetal position & stay there. She is part of what annoys me most
when young people are disrespectful or rude to old people. A generation of people who showed more fortitude,
moral courage & grit than most of us have the need to call on these days.

When did this turn into a rant ? It wasn't meant to be one.
I often wonder how I would cope faced with the trials my Gran did.
Not as well, is the answer.

I believe she is the benchmark for old people. We should all aspire to use the word a*** at least once a day.
To other people, I mean, to yourself doesn't count.
Read the poem 'When I grow old I shall wear purple.'
It's a lifestyle guide.
Trudes, you're half way there, with the purple bit, not the old bit.

And Happy Birthday for tomorrow (although it's today here).

Must leave for now & I didn't even manage the Kiwi language lesson I was promising.

I am hoping to go to work after lunch, I don't feel sick now, just dizzy.

Cx