Monday, October 05, 2009

Pointless conversations...

A man called me today about Great Ormond Street Hospital. Yep, I agreed with him, lovely hospital, very good work, blah blah blah. Then he came out with:

"Right, so can you give us £20 a month?"

I actually laughed out loud at that, and had to explain that I would love to but having no money at all would make it quite impossible.

"I quite understand," says man, "blah blah blah, lovely hospital, sick children, now how about giving us £10 a month?".

So again I say, would love to, maybe in a few years, but impossible. Sorry.

"Oh ok," says man, "blah blah blah REALLY sick children, I am sure you appreciate just how SICK they are and how much they and their parents are suffering. How about £3 a month?"

Me: "You can keep asking but I still have no money".

By this point I was quite cross, was he going to keep going till we got to 1p a month or something? Maybe if I'd kept going he would have agreed to give me £20 a month instead. I hate being made to feel poor, and explain why I have no money. He should have given it up at £10 and said "well if you could contribute whenever you feel you can that would be lovely". Instead he's made me really cross, but at least they won't keep ringing me up now asking for money. Whoever trains these people to ring random numbers and ask for money really has the wrong idea, keep going on and on at poor people who have explained why they can't help you is actually having the opposite effect. Barnardos actually launched into a graphic description of child abuse to me one Friday evening and it was only afterwards I realised how offensive they really were - how do they know I haven't been affected by awful things and their idiotic attempts to get donations had stirred it all up again? Grrr. I am learning to be rude to cold callers but I really wish I had told that one where to stick it :)

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Holidaying in Essex

Due to lack of funds this year, we just had 4 days in a caravan by the seaside in Essex. I don't think we will be doing it again, staying at home for a week seems preferable at the minute. The "high"lights were:

1) Eating lunch and being disturbed by local druggies arguing over a stolen phone. This included much cursing and "swearing on my kid's life" that the man with the phone bought it "legitimately" off a girl's one night stand who handily nicked most of her stuff in the morning before he left...

2) Walking along the beach and stumbling upon a topless granny trying to top up her tan. This might have worked in Magaluf. Not in a very breezy sunless Essex seaside with the tide coming in.

3) Going out for tea to the local pub and disturbing a bunch of kids smoking dope on the pub climbing frame and blatantly making drug deals on their mobiles. As my 2 year old was breathing in their smoke I got them chucked out and then had husband refuse to speak to me for getting involved. Would he rather we had to deal with a 2 year old on a comedown than say anything?! I am 35. They were probably 16. They can bloody well sod off to the local bus stop and do their drug dealing.

4) The "entertainment" at the park in the evening involved 2 very young and camp reps trying to get a reaction out of about 7 bored and fed up holidaymakers. But we did trounce the competition in a tv themes quiz and won a clock. Lovely. We didn't dare go back after that as they looked quite cross.

5) Spending god knows how much money trying to win a teddy for littl'un on those machines where you have to pick them up with a scoop thing and hope they don't fall off. We didn't win one, they are so fixed. It would have been cheaper to just go to a shop and buy one.

6) Being invaded by ants on our first night. They were marching under the door up 3 big steps into the caravan and we were in peril of being bitten to death. Littl'un enjoyed stomping on the incursion and then a handy application of fairy liquid along the doorframe seemed to stop them for the rest of the holiday.

And the lesson is? Stick with Cornwall, it may be further but it seems to have less druggies and random freaks. Everybody we saw was either disabled, on drugs, drunk, or clearly on the social with several little kids clinging to them while their druggie dad was arguing with someone else. Classy.

Friday, September 04, 2009

Late night munching

So some highly paid boffins have just published a study which says that "eating late at night = weight gain". Honestly, did they really need a study to show that?! How do people get paid to come up with doing studies like this?! It's like asking me to study if pregnancy = weight gain. In fact I am going to submit my proposal to some scientific board and my expenses will be "cookies, ice cream, crisps" and in about 8/9 months I can prove my theory :)

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Soul mates?!

In a vain attempt to keep my brain engaged, I've been doing jigsaws - 50p from the local charidee shop, can't be bad! Anyway, so far none of them have been missing any pieces, which made me suspect that someone who volunteers there tests them all before they sell them. Then the last one I got, someone had separated the outside pieces from the inside pieces and bagged them up all neatly!! I am not alone!!!

Friday, July 17, 2009

'Orrible kids

So we went to a play place today, hadn't been before but it sounded alright. And I came THIS close to duffing up a 5 year old boy who was the incarnation of Damien from the Omen. He was there with his gran, who was oblivious to his bullying, snatching, and general nastiness. He even tried staring the adults out after upsetting their kids! Little sod. I used to think I wanted to be a teacher, but unless it was the Anne of Green Gables type school with beautiful, polite, intelligent kids dying to learn and totally in awe of me, I'd be no good, I'd have expelled half the class before hometime!

And don't get me started on the cafe - 10 minutes to make 2 coffees and then when they were THIS close to me, dropped on the floor and we had to start all over again! out of the workplace isn't so much more relaxed you know!

Friday, July 10, 2009

Kiddie park or drug den?!

So I was a very good mum today and took littl'un to the park. Doesn't happen often, I must be sickening for something. Anyway, there were a couple of other mums there, but then they left and we had the whole place to ourselves. Apart from 2 teenage boys hanging around outside the gates. After a while I got a bit nervous, they were definitely waiting for something. Then some other teenagers came into the park, and the first two went up to them, blatantly sold them drugs, and then returned to leering at me. So we left pretty soon after, and when I looked back, they were sat on the kiddie swings rolling a big joint!! Every damn time we go to that place we see drug deals, the car park is a hot spot for people to drive in, talk to the local hoodlum on his bike who just happens to be hanging around, and seems to know everybody, and then drive off rapidly with a big bag of something illegal in their dashboard. If the police cracked on to this they'd make more arrests in about 2 hours than the rest of the week wandering round the streets! Bloody drug dealers!!

Thursday, June 18, 2009


So against everything I said last time round, I'm having another baby. Lovely. Due just before Christmas - so that is cancelled then! So far it's been going as before, not many symptoms which is good, but I am the size of a house already, not so good. Anyway, also like last time round I had a letter from the hospital. Following my blood tests, they want Mr Babs to have his blood tested for some medical thing that mainly affects african men. So I rang them up and said he'd already been tested the first time round and did he need to be tested again as he still isn't african? The man laughed and said "no, but we assume pregnant ladies are with different partners than the last time round so we had to check". Lovely. So the prevailing opinion in my part of the world is that all the women have babies with different dads. I really love Essex.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Vandalism - the Essex way

So on Saturday night I was awoken by the sound of a ruckus outside. As if I don't get woken up enough by Baby Babs crying and Mr Babs going for a wee, now you can add young hooligans to the list. Marvellous. Picture the scene: quiet surburban street, 1ish in the morning, lovely summer's night (hence all the windows being bloody open), cut to:

Thug 1 (Let's call him Bazza): "AAAAGGGHHHH. Man I'm drunk man! AAAAGGGGGHHHH!"
Thug 2 (Let's say Shane): "Awright man! Wot a night eh? Mwah mwah mwah"
Shane's moll (Let's call her Shaz): "Mwah mwah mwah" (this symbolises lots of slurpy snogging against a lamppost)
Bazza: "Right man, wot a night! WOT A NIGHT!"
Shane/Shaz: "Mwah mwah mwah"
Thug 3 (Gazza perhaps?): "Ere! Let's nick this for sale sign [belonging to our neighbours] - if we take it to the shop they'll give us a fiver for it!" [I have no idea if this is true but doubt it very much].
Bazza: "Yeah man, why not!"
Bazza/Gazza - Tug, thump, smash.
Shane/Shaz: "Mwah mwah mwah"

The next day it appears that they got fed up of carrying the sign by the time they got to the bottom of the road and dumped it. They left the remains of the post outside our house, obviously trying to lay the blame with us. All the other neighbours think they have taken their house off the market now as they have failed to have it replaced yet!

You really couldn't make it up. What must I miss in winter when the windows are closed?!

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

You couldn't make it up...

I love this story (in a gory way) - binmen refused to empty a bin as it was too heavy, failed to notice there was a foot sticking out of the top, and the reason it was too heavy was because there was a body in it. It stayed there for 3 weeks before anyone noticed.

Monday, June 01, 2009

Strange dreams

So last night, Gazza wanted me to go out with him. I said "oh I'll have to speak to my husband first", to which he replied, "tell him it's me, it'll be fine".

And as Gazza is his hero, I am sure it would have been :)

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Britain's Got Talent (and pushy mums and rubbish people)

So I only got into watching this as BB refuses to go to bed at a sensible hour and we have to watch non violent/sexual/swearing tv until he finally succumbs. And it has made me so mad. Why?

Point 1: When that little girl in the tutu was crying and really upset and overwhelmed by the whole thing, what did her mum do? Scoop her up and refuse to let her carry on?! No. She stood there pleading for her to go back up and do it again. Pushy mums anyone? Any normal mother would have refused to let their child become such a martyr to fame and fortune. I was half expecting when she didn't win the final her to throw herself on the floor and scream and kick until they "let her win".

Point 2: Sob stories. The guy with the saxophone was clearly talented, but he cried every 2 minutes. Honestly. Imagine if he just went to a normal audition to be in an orchestra, let's say. The bloke in charge says "so, can you play?" and he bursts into tears. "Next!" In all these reality shows, they all have sob stories, next year I'm going to enter with not much talent to get me through but I will have a fantastic story for the papers to feed on. "I haven't had any sleep since January 2007" perhaps, or "we have no money and I need some, thanks" - all served with plenty of tears and angsty looks down the camera.

Point 3: People with no talent at all but who think they are brilliant. Enough said. What were their parents thinking? This is a lot more prevalent in the American equivalents, you really have to wonder if they are deaf or drugged up to the eyeballs.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Tweet tweet

So it appears that Twitter has robbed me of my ability to write more than 140 characters. It is weird, I used to love blogging and thinking of things that annoy me to moan about. Now I have to think of witty concise sentences for Twitter and Facebook and that is actually harder! So I think it's time to revisit the no restrictions blog and have a rant. I think I'm also a bit worried that someone will sue me if I say anything bad about famous people, but what else is the blog for?! I only have celebrity and dirty nappies in my life. Oh and vegetables now. Rock.

So what has gotten the goat of Bookish Barbara recently?

1) Morrissey was 50! 50!!! I always thought he was like Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. Now I have to admit that Morrissey certainly aged, he was certainly no Dorian Gray, but 50?! Really?! How did my heros get so old?

2) Having to have sneaky bbqs as you know you should invite your relatives , but really? Every single time? Apparently so. And if we are discovered, jeez the moaning!! And having to think of lame excuses not to go to theirs every time, just saying "no thanks" is never good enough. We have yet to come up with a plausible excuse that worked.

3) Bloody Britain's Got Talent. In the lack of other tv being on I have been watching this. I can tell you that, mostly, Britain Hasn't Got Talent. A few really good ones yeah, but most were good the first time for the shock value - you didn't expect that woman to sing like that, 2 fat men sticking bags up their arses (yes really) - but the second time around, no no no.

4) American Idol. Adam Lambert wuz robbed. I don't know what America thought they were doing. And having to avoid the internet for days to avoid seeing who won when it was shown in the US was annoying and I gave up and looked, thankfully this saved me from having to sit through the 2 hour finale only to be crazy angry at the result! At least he is free from having to sing that godawful song written for the winner and can do what he likes now.

5) Comebacks. All the 80s bands reforming is starting to get annoying. Why don't they just write to all the members of their fanclubs saying "we is a bit poor, could you give us some dosh? We'll come round and play in your front room for twenty quid. Cheers. xx"

6) Children pooing in their pants. Baby Babs has been nappy free for 2 whole weeks - this has been mostly incident free. But the incidents that have occurred have involved poo, lots of poo, pants, complex operations to remove pants to make the least possible mess, realising this is impossible, poo everywhere. Lovely. When asked why BB didn't ask to use the potty, expression says "because I can do it in my pants".

Aah, see I knew I could write more than 140 characters! I could have gone on...

Thursday, May 14, 2009


So I was very shocked to read that Jordan and Peter Andre are splitting up. Absolutely shocked. I was perusing the possible reasons for this unforeseen D.I.V.O.R.C.E. and I came up with a few.

1) The wedding was mostly done for publicity reasons, not your old fashioned lurve. They had a contract to stay together for so many years, do so many reality shows, have so many kids and then call it a day.
2) After failing to break America and with falling ratings back in Blighty, and short of having a terminal disease to fall back on, they hit on splitting up. And then in 6 months or so, reconciling and having another wedding - all with the wonga of OK magazine.
3) Katie/Jordan couldn't bear another day of listening to Mysterious Girl from the shower, and short of having Pete killed, went for the other option.
4) Pete finally admitted he couldn't stand big boobs or fake tan. Well not on other people anyway :)
5) They finally saw the light and couldn't live the charade anymore, and were totally fed up having cameras following them around everywhere, and are off to live in Guatamala with a few goats and stuff. The "split" takes the heat off for a while...

I am going with option 2 myself, and putting a fiver on it at the bookies! Could they be so shallow?

[Nb. these are my personal musings and please don't sue me].

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Facebook etiquette

So someone I know wanted to be my friend on Facebook. And I don't want to be but they are related so I can't get by just ignoring them. It is ruining my Facebook experience, I only added them 10 minutes ago and they are on all the time blocking updates from people I want to hear about! And I just know they will try and befriend half my friends on there and they will hate me! It just proves the virtual world is still beset with social awkwardness and having to be polite to people you really don't want to be polite to. Ho hum. I'll have to join another site now!

Thursday, April 09, 2009

Winos and supermarkets

Bloody bloody supermarkets. Why do I keep going to them? Today, with it being Easter and all, I thought I'd treat myself to some wine. 3 for £10? Lovely. But the checkout woman was extremely ditsy and after checking everything else on the receipt at the store, lots of 3 for 2s, 2 for 1s, BOGOF's, it was only when I got home and unpacked that I noticed the wine offer hadn't worked and I'd been charged over £20!! £20!!! For 3 bottles of wine!! So Baby Babs was bundled back in the car and off we went to confront Customer Services Lady. It appears that in between me picking the wine off the shelf where it was clearly labelled 3 for £10 and getting to the checkout, they had taken the labels off and stopped the offer. The lady laughed "oh yes, they were just sorting the wine section out, sorry about that!". So this leads me to the question: "WHY DIDN'T THEY DO IT BEFORE THE STORE OPENED????!!!"

But she did give them to me for a tenner and I made her refund my second parking ticket. Damn them.

Saturday, April 04, 2009


So I've just noticed that I have started the last few blog posts with the word "So...".

Am I turning into a stand-up comedian?! I'll be telling you jokes about the mother-in-law next.


So my dad is coming to visit today, he lives oop north so comes down every couple of months or so. He doesn't even stay 24 hours, comes Saturday lunchtime, leaves after breakfast on Sunday. But this necessitates a thorough clean of the entire house (even the bedrooms which he doesn't even go in!), gardening (it's now raining), washing, ironing so it's not dumped on the table like usual, cleaning of Baby Babs and self. This all takes longer than his actual visit.

I am abnormal. Anally retentive even. Neither he or my husband even bloody notice.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Earth hour

So I overrode my non-environmentally friendly husband's moaning and switched off all the lights for Earth Hour. If nothing else it'll save us a few quid on the leccy, I might do it every night. So I got out all the candles, Baby Babs was in bed, I thought "ooh how romantic, my luck might be in here". Husband complained for 45 minutes that it was too dark and then fell asleep on the sofa. The romance is dead...

Online confusion

So, I have three different internet updating things going on, this, Facebook and Twitter. At the moment I am trying to cover different topics on all three which is bloody hard work. And why? I have a few friends who know about all three of them, and while I am sure they don't want to read the same things three times, why am I bothering?! I know you can get your Twitter updates to show up on your Facebook as updates but I had to stop that as it was bothering me. And on here I am kind of anonymous which is great when slagging off the neighbours or immediate family.

I don't know what my point is.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Twitterings of a Rock God

So I signed up for Twitter after Lady L did. And it confuses me. It's like the best bit of Facebook (the updates) but on a different site. And as I didn't have many friends on there I started following famous people instead. And then Chris Cornell started up on it. And it weirds me out.

Firstly, I can't be sure if it is actually the real Chris Cornell. He updates so often - surely a bona fide rock star would be too busy throwing tvs out of windows and being off his face on JD to tell the world silly things all the time?

Secondly, if it is indeed the real Chris Cornell, his updates are usually so banal (for a rock star, sweet for a normal person) - he misses his kids, he's getting on a plane etc etc. , that my long held adoration is being tampered with. I blanked out the fact that he was married with kids now, and held on to the fact that he was living a miserable alcohol-raddled existence as he knew that I was married with kids now and he had missed his chance.

So it begs the question: would I rather know what he is having for his tea tonight or hold on to a long held obsession with a "Chris Cornell" who obviously doesn't exist in the real world? At the moment, nosiness wins everytime. I'll just have to find a new Rock God to replace him :)

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Call the social!

Today Baby Babs decided to headbutt the toilet trying to retrieve Bob the Builder from underneath it. He has a marvellous shiner now. This adds to all the other cuts and bruises that adorn his body (legs mostly) as he is a clumsy little boy at the moment. We were in the supermarket after said toilet incident and BB decided to do a runner. I had to chase him out of the supermarket and finally caught up with him, and like a good mother, proceeded to chastise him for running off.

It was only afterwards I realised what we must have looked like. Young child legging it, covered in bruises, big black eye, chased by irate mother, then manhandled into buggy kicking and screaming. I looked like I beat him regularly! How bad is that?! And I can totally see how easy it is for people to get the wrong end of the stick and report you for child abuse. Scary.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Warring mothers

Oh my god. I am stuck in the middle of the most ridiculous situation. I know a mum who has a little girl just a bit younger than Baby Babs. I know her through someone, I wouldn't say we were friends particularly, but well enough to exchange presents last year for the kids birthdays. This year my friend has fallen out with the mum and they don't talk anymore. I don't see this other lady much, just at the baby group if she turns up, which she hasn't been doing, probably to avoid my friend. Last time I saw her, we bumped into each other in town just before BB's birthday. She was super friendly and then surprised me by giving BB a present for his birthday. I hadn't seen her since. And it's her little girls birthday on Monday. I got her a card and was wondering what to do about a present. I felt like I ought to, as she got BB one. Then today she turned up at baby group, pointedly ignored both me and my friend, and refused to let her little girl play with our boys.

So why do I feel really mean about not giving her a present and possibly not even the card?! Wouldn't it look stranger if I did give her something considering the fact I haven't spoken to her for 3 months and when I see her she ignores me? It wasn't my argument and I was always friendly to her, I didn't even take sides. This motherhood lark is a minefield. And why do I give a monkeys?!

Monday, March 16, 2009

Say what you mean!

Our neighbours are pregnant again, third one god help them. But they have made no secret of the fact they want a big family. Today was the first scan, after which you can tell everyone. I was in the garden when Mrs Neighbour told the old lady who lives on the other side of them. She is the one who told me when I was heavily pregnant that her granddaughter had just had a baby and it was disabled, and I ought to be prepared just in case. Thanks. Anyway her reaction was priceless!

Pregnant lady: I've got some news for you. We're having another baby!"
Old lady: "OH MY GOD" (in a voice of doom)

Now even if you think someone is crazy for having another baby, and you think it might have been a mistake, you don't actually say it to their face!

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Supermarket update

I went to the supermarket yesterday, the one that blockaded the aisles. And halfway round I noticed an odd thing, the online shopping order staff with their MASSIVE trolleys were all parked neatly at the end of the aisles, not down them. And they all looked super pissed off that they had to walk a bit further! Hee hee, it really made me laugh! Power to the people! All the funnier as I did email them to ask what their policy was and got a stock reply that "in 24 hour stores, they have to do these things sometime" - despite the fact that my local store isn't a 24 hour one! But they actually took heed and did something. I will feel bad when I get a job in a supermarket and they tell me I am on the online order section though...

Odd babies

Why is it children can make you want to laugh and cry at the same time? This week I had done my ironing and had it all neatly piled up in a basket waiting to go upstairs. I wasn't paying full attention to Baby Babs, he was pootling round between the kitchen and the lounge, but then I realised he was beaming at me very proudly. What had he done? He had very carefully taken my neat pile of ironing and stuffed it in the washing machine! It's his father's fault, when he comes home he makes BB put his dirty socks and pants in the washing machine, and he obviously associates piles of clothes with washing and was only trying to help. I had to laugh while trying not to cry.

Then the other morning I was dozing in bed trying not to have to get up while BB ran riot round the bedroom. He came up to me shouting "Mummy! Eyes!" and I turned round to find him THIS close to my face and wearing my glasses.

He also refuses to let anyone trim his nails, toe or finger, and can spend a long time trying to pick them off himself. But then, unlike any man I know, he doesn't throw them on the floor or pile them on the end of the arm of the chair and leave them there. He puts them in the bin.

The boy is a bit odd.

Thursday, March 12, 2009


Like the wonderful mother I am, I took Baby Babs to the park yesterday afternoon. It was basically a bribe, we went to the library first and I said if he behaved I'd take him on the way home. I've never seen a quieter child! We had the whole play area to ourselves for a while which BB loved, then another lady and her son turned up. And suddenly the play area turned into Eastern Europe. She was Polish and couldn't speak a word of English which made it very difficult to try and converse. The boys got on like a house on fire, chasing each other round and shouting "whee!!" and whatever it is in Polish, for ages. But it made it very awkward, all we could do was smile at each other. We went to another park last week and the other woman in there was Russian, and she was shouting at her kids in that scary "I will kneecap you if you don't get off that slide" Russian way of speaking. How am I supposed to make new friends if Essex has turned into the new Poland/Russia?! I might have to start learning the lingo, at least "how old is your little cherub?" and "do you come here often?". I might get back "he's 3 and we're just waiting for our flight home from that airport we heard Romford had".

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

A different perspective

I've been reading Rumpelstiltskin to Baby Babs recently, and I don't quite remember the dark undertones running through the story. If the girl can't spin straw into gold she must DIE and if she succeeds she gets to marry the king. How gracious of him! And then Rumpelstiltskin wants to take away her first child to do what with I couldn't figure out. Probably eat. Luckily Baby Babs doesn't really understand, he just likes listening. I'm going to have to vet all the books in future, perhaps our library only stocks the dark versions of stories, like the one where the Three Little Pigs are spit-roasted by the wicked wolf, and Little Red Riding Hood is sold into white slavery by her Grandma who is secretly involved with Mr Wolf, and who moves to Tenerife with the profits after being helped to find a villa with A Place in the Sun.

I bet these versions exist somewhere...

Friday, March 06, 2009

Reasons to live in Romford

I am always a bit scathing of living in Essex, not being born and bred. But our local paper this week listed "100 reasons to live in Havering" and there are some gems. I am quite proud now. The highlights?

1) Five Star come from Romford.
2) Seal lived in Romford for a bit.
3) Jilly Cooper was born in Hornchurch (posh bit).
4) Steve Davis the legendary snooker player was discovered playing in Romford Snooker Hall.
5) Ian Dury came from Upminster (posher bit).
6) The Prodigy filmed the video for Voodoo People in Romford Market.
7) John Motson bought his sheepskin coat from a man in Hornchurch.
8) Frank Lampard was born in Romford (can't have it all) and Tony Cottee lived in Collier Row (rough bit).
9) The Beatles played in Romford twice in 1963.

And the piece de resistence?
10) Richard Madeley comes from Romford!!

And the most bizarre fact:
11) There used to be a regular air service between Romford and Paris in the 1930s. I wonder if they were only one way fares? Who would want to come back?

Saturday, February 28, 2009


Conversation with a new mother who turned up to a baby group one week:

New mother: "Eeer! This is me latest, Jade-Britney, she's only 8 days old!"
Me: "Ooh, lovely. Isn't she small?"
NM: "Yeah! Me other kids are over there, there's Justin on the tractor and Christina is asleep in the buggy. Oh an' Madonna-Mariah is at school."
Me: "You're brave coming out so soon after the birth."
NM: "No problem, she just popped out, innit, like the others, I told the doctors she would just pop out and they didn't believe me but she did. Just popped out. Hit her bleedin' head on the floor."
Me: "?!?!?"
NM: "See my finger! I cut it right open making a stew. Look at it!"
Me: "Cooking already? You are good!"
NM: "Yeah well with all me kids someone has to feed 'em! Me other 'alf ain't bovvered, he's down the pub usually, but look at me finger!"
Me: "Ooohhh!" (in head: "someone please help me!")
NM: "Do you wanna hold her a minute while I sort me shit out?"
Me: "Umm, of course!"
NM: "Righto. Ta very much. JUSTIN!! Get yer coat on, we're leavin'!!!"
Me: (Thank god!) "Umm, bye then!"

Dead letters

Talking of our resident ghost, this christmas we had a cheery card addressed to the couple who lived here from "Sue and Jim" who "hoped they were still going strong!". And left a return address. So I felt obliged to write and tell them they were dead. It was a very difficult letter to write. Never mind the fact that we have lived here for the past 4 years and this is the first year "Sue and Jim" thought to inquire into their friends' wellbeing, I didn't know how close they were and how they would take the news. So I politely informed them that their friends had passed away several years ago, and then made some half-hearted comments about them obviously being lovely people and I hoped they weren't too upset by my news. I have heard nothing back, I wish they would at least acknowledge my letter so I don't spent years torn up with guilt at being the evil person who told them their friends had carked it. Though I did use a second class stamp so it probably hasn't got there yet...

Ghost teacher?!

Baby Babs is coming along in leaps and bounds. He can talk for England now, despite only just turning two. We went to yet another birthday party today with lots of other two year olds, and it struck me just how far advanced he seemed all of a sudden. None of the other kids are talking, he can have full blown conversations now, and most of them had dummies and refused to leave their parents' side. Baby Babs was everywhere, he loved it, I hated chasing him round, but I do applaud his independent spirit. He doesn't give a monkeys if he can't see me and runs off blithely oblivious to the horrors that could await him.

But what is getting me is the words he comes out with. I know I teach him ridiculous words like "coconut". But I don't remember "tortoise" and teaching him the difference between "dark and light", "up and down" and "cold and hot". I think our ghost is back, obviously a primary school teacher back in the day, and Baby Babs is having lessons I know nothing about.

Yesterday I asked him what we should plant in our newly created veg patch, and he thought very carefully and said "daddy's beers". Now if he could just invent a Fosters plant we would be made for life. And I wouldn't put it past him...

Eggs in yer face

I opened the curtains this morning to find that some kindly soul had come round in the middle of the night and thrown eggs at my newly cleaned windows. Bastards. Not only does our window cleaner only come once in a blue moon, but it was sufficiently cold last night to make the egg freeze like super glue to my windows, I had to resort to a scouring pad to get it off, praying it didn't scratch the glass. It has unsettled me somewhat, I switch between thinking they were stupid kids and it was a random attack to "oh my god! we have somehow really upset someone so much that they sneak round in the dark to egg us!!". I won't sleep tonight.

And how expensive are eggs these days?! And who goes round late at night with eggs in their pockets?! Bloody essex teenagers that's who. Bastards.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

On supermarkets

Recently I have noticed a trend in supermarkets. Those staff who do the shopping for the online orders are taking over the shops and leaving no room for normal customers. Last week I was trying to get to the butter only to find the entire aisle blockaded by staff restocking the cheese on one side and a woman with a massive trolley of online orders on the other. And I politely stood there till they moved!! Idiot. When did the normal in-store shoppers become mere irritations to the running of the shop? I thought they did most of the online orders when the shop itself was closed, but apparently not. And the days of restocking shelves at 3am seem to be long gone. It makes me so mad but it isn't limited to just one supermarket so I find it wherever I go. Next time I get blockaded I'm going to shove their massive trolleys out of the way or demand to see the manager. It's time for action people.

Monday, February 23, 2009


Speaking of cocktails, Justin Hawkins has a new album out with his band Hot Leg. I listened to a bit of it online and it's bleedin' brilliant!! Not quite the dizzy heights of the Darkness but not far off. The highlight was a song called Cocktail. The chorus goes "cock cock cock cock cocktail".

Absolute genius.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Mutant fruit

Baby Babs vocabulary is expanding massively and the other day we were going through one of his picture books for the nth time and I tried him on "coconut". He said it really well and I was so proud. Then I tried "pineapple". After frowning for a bit and really concentrating he came up with "applenutnut". That is the best word I have heard for years, and if only I could mix a pineapple and a coconut I would be famous! It would save so much time making cocktails :-)

Friday, February 13, 2009

The best pop video ever?!

I recently saw Coldplay's video for Life in technicolour ii and it is bloody brilliant! With no Top of the Pops (RIP) anymore most new videos pass me by, but you can watch videos on our cable for free and after I got tired of Bob the Builder doing "Big Fish Little Fish" (cardboard box!) I looked at a few cooler ones. If you haven't seen it, you are missing a brilliant puppet show extravaganza! And it's totally changed my opinion of Coldplay, I used to think "oh god it's Coldplay" whenever they turned up on the radio or tv, but now the video has messed my head up! I am quite sure Coldplay themselves didn't come up with the idea or execute any of it (apart from the song which is also not bad surprisingly) but hey. They put their name to it! Nobody puts any effort into videos anymore, so top marks from me!

I am not being paid by Coldplay for this btw! I can also highly recommend Morrissey's new one, ooh I love Mozza. Oh and that beardy bloke from Elbow...