What Men Mean

Firstly, I would like to apologise for my absence. I have a lot of family problems at the moment - more than those I mentioned a couple of posts ago, unfortunately. I have been too preoccupied to comment and too distracted to put a post together, so I hope you will excuse me. Anyway........

There just had to be a follow up to 'Shock Poll Reveals What Women Mean' didn't there? Women are not alone in saying one thing, when they may mean another. Men can often be guilty of the same sort of thing. I've compiled a list of the most common things a man might say, in bold, along with what he might mean in italics. This post is tongue-in-cheek. Please don't take it too seriously. I won't be held responsible for any divorce proceedings instigated as a result of reading this post. ;0)

Before Marriage:

Would you like to go for a drink after work? I think you're really hot and I want to have sex with you, as soon as you'll agree to it.

Do you want to stay at my place this weekend? Do you want to bonk me stupid this weekend?

Shall we go on holiday together this year? Do you want to bonk me stupid for a fortnight?

Will you marry me? Will you have regular sex with me, until I get fed up of you and find someone younger?

After marriage:

Is your headache better darling? Are you well enough to have sex, yet?

Do you want any help in the kitchen? If I help in the kitchen, can we have sex later?

Let's have a cuddle. Let's have sex.

Of course I'm listening. I haven't been listening.

No I'm not lost. I'm lost.

You're wrong. It's essential that I'm right, so you must be wrong.

I can do it. I can't do it, but I would rather not do it than let you show/tell me how to do it.

All the men at work fancy Lisa. All the men at work fancy Lisa, including me.

I could give up drinking if I wanted to. I can't get through the day without alcohol.

It's far too hot in this room. Aren't you hot? It's too hot in this room. If you're not hot, there's something wrong with you. There couldn't possibly be anything wrong with me.

I've cut the grass. It's spring and I've cut the grass, so that's my bit of gardening done until the autumn, when I'll cut it once more. If you think it needs cutting in between, you'll have to do it yourself.

I haven't got time to finish this job in the house today. I'll do the rest next week. I'm never going to finish this job. If you want it finished, you'll have to do it, or get someone in.

Do you think that this DIY job looks OK? I know that this DIY job looks awful, but will you let me off the hook, because I can't be bothered to do it any better?

Yes, that dress looks great! That dress doesn't look too good on you, but I hate shopping and I want to get home in time to watch the rugby on tv.

There's nothing wrong with a man hiring a Harley Davidson at the age of 58, when he hasn't been on a motorbike for 33 years. Help! I'm having a midlife crisis.

Have you seen my car keys/screwdriver/mobile/wallet/brain? You've tidied away my car keys/screwdriver/mobile/wallet/brain. It's lost forever, my life is in ruins and it's all your fault.

I would like to point out that this information has been gathered from other women's experiences, or from my own experiences in previous (failed!) relationships. My own dearest darling husband is, of course, guilty of none of the above. Well, maybe just the odd one here and there .........

Anything you'd like to add from your own observations?

The Ideal Home

It's been 23 years since my husband and I last moved house, but when my eldest son left home, last summer, it suddenly occurred to me that we were entering a different phase in our lives and it was possible that, in a very short time, we could once more be enjoying the dubious pleasures of house hunting.

We haven't made a habit of moving house since our marriage in 1976 and, when we were looking for our first property, we didn't have many requirements. We were both living and working in the Midlands, before we married, so our choice was limited to something we could afford and which was within reasonable travelling distance of our places of work. We finally found an old bungalow, which needed a fair amount of modernisation, but we lived there happily enough, until my husband was promoted 4 years later, when we were obliged to move a bit further south.

We were a little more discerning, when we were searching for our second property. It was difficult to find the sort of house we wanted, however, at a price we could afford, because we were moving into a more expensive area. On this occasion, we were again looking for an older, detached property, but with 3 bedrooms and a decent sized garden, in a village location, preferably with fields beyond. After endless searching, we eventually bought a neglected Baptist manse, which met most of our needs, but required a lot of repair work, before we could move in. Our mortgage payments doubled in size, as a result of buying the property and we spent a lot of money on renovations during the 6 years that we lived there. Our 2 eldest sons were born during the first 5 years that we spent in the house, but, by the time Middle son was 12 months old, I had set my sights on moving to a nearby country town. I had tired of village life, feeling that the whole family would benefit greatly from the wider range of activities and facilities available in a small town.

This time we were looking for a more modern detached family home, with as much space as we could afford. We were aiming for 3 receptions, fitted kitchen, cloakroom, one en suite bedroom, 3 further bedrooms, a family bathroom, double garage and a front and rear garden. When we finally managed to buy the house we had set our hearts on, we stayed put and, for the last 23 years, our home has truly been ideal. I shall be sad to leave the house where we have raised our family and made so many memories, but it will be too large for us, once the rest of our family has moved out, rendering the running and maintenance costs disproportionate for just 2 people.

Our requirements for our next ideal home, will be vastly different from the last. We don't yet feel ready to consider a complex for the over 55s, with House Manager, communal gardens, on site laundry, security door entry system and emergency call facility. We will, however, almost definitely be seeking out either a 2 bedroomed bungalow, or a house boasting a ready fitted Stannah stair lift and a downstairs toilet. A walk in shower room will be an absolute necessity, as will extra large windows to the front of the house, so that I can keep an eye on local goings on from behind my nets. A courtyard style garden, no bigger than a postage stamp, will also be high on our list of priorities, plus a garage big enough to house 2 mobility scooters, or one mobility scooter, with sidecar. Does anyone manufacture those? That's a missed business opportunity, isn't it?

The position of the house will be much more important this time. Views from the front of the property will hopefully include a pedestrian crossing, a couple of bus stops and a double decker bus at regular intervals of no less than 10 minutes, in each direction. Views to the rear should include the local Health Centre and hospital, which needs to be no more than 2 streets away. The house should be within easy reach of an extensive range of amenities such as the Co-op, Boots, Specsavers, the post office, the library, an NHS dentist (OK, now you know that I'm winding you up!), a hearing aid centre, a shampoo and set, a hostelry and the Crematorium.

We won't be considering any property, which stands at the top of a hill, at this juncture of our lives, as we feel that it would be too problematical. Whilst we feel sure that the trip down to the Cock and Bull, on our mobility scooters, would be a speedy delight, the return journey, after one snowball too many, could be meandering and tedious in the extreme, particularly if we roll down the other side of the hill, before I've managed to retrieve the front door key, from the bottom of my capacious shopper, and insert it, carefully, into the lock.

Finally, there is just one more requirement for our next ideal home, which I haven't yet mentioned. It simply must be within easy tottering distance of a cash machine, due to the fact that I am seriously looking forward to spending my children's inheritance.

Bloggers Make The Bestest Friends!

Aims published a post, on the 4th February, which referred to an article, about blogging, entitled Dangers Online. I read the article and found it quite interesting, if rather too much of a generalisation. I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of horror at the suggestion running throughout, however, that it would be better for all bloggers to return to face-to-face conversation, rather than continuing to interact through the medium of blogging. What an idea! I can hardly bear to consider it! Online friendships are infinitely preferable, in my opinion, for the following reasons:

My cyber friends never stare in disapproving disbelief, if I hit the bottle before the sun's over the yardarm and start slurring my comments.

They don't point and laugh cruelly, when I'm blogging and miss my mouth, whilst knocking back the Gordon's, or when the mayo oozes out of my lunchtime sandwich and trickles down my chin.

They don't appear to mind, in the least, if I tuck my paper napkin in the neck of my jumper, slurp my soup, or wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, whilst commenting on their posts.

They're not in the least bit bovvered when I realise that I probably can find room for a hot chocolate with whipped cream, after just downing a 12 inch pizza, all to myself, followed by a sticky toffee pudding.

They never blink an eye, if I giggle, whilst quoffing a bottle of bin end bargain, spraying droplets of gnat's pee and saliva all over my immediate surroundings, when I'm reading their posts.

My bloggy friends allow me the absolute freedom to scratch whatever I want, as frequently as I wish.

I can be anyone I want be, when I'm in their company - but don't panic, bloggy friends. Fortunately, I've never wanted to be anyone other than myself. No, really.

They never make me feel guilty, if I'm still blogging in my Dora The Explorer PJs, when they call in to comment, at lunchtime.

I don't have to get up off my lazy arse to make them a cup of coffee, if they do call by, or offer to share my last chocolate Hobnob.

It doesn't matter if they pay me a surprise visit when I'm waxing my legs, or soaking my feet.

They never count the cobwebs, or criticise the decor.

I don't have to drive, walk, or even get out of my cosy bed to interact with my bloggy friends.

They don't wince, or whip out their sunglasses, when I wear the hideous orange top I bought from Primark in the sale.

They never stare in shock horror, when I tell them I buy some of my clothes from Primark.

They never ask me to lend them a tenner till payday.

They never interrupt me, or shout me down, when I'm in the middle of a post.

They never ask me a question, then hi-jack the conversation again, before I've made my point.

I can moderate all of their comments.

Their eyes never glaze over, when I start to get boring.

They never laugh, when I forget the point of my story.

Now, why did I start relating all of this? Hold on. It'll come to me, in a minute........ You're not laughing, are you?

Shock Poll Reveals What Women Mean!

An exclusive poll, conducted by Mean Moody Middle-aged Mom, based on telephone interviews with a remarkably small number of female adults, recently uncovered some shocking facts. Apparently, a tiny minority of women don't necessarily say what they mean in certain situations, when conversing with their partners! A teensy weensy number of the women polled even admitted to neglecting to mention niggling little details, which they considered unimportant and less than one woman openly admitted to the odd white lie!

The reasons behind this sort of behaviour varied considerably, in accordance with the woman's mood, the poll revealed, but included such things as a desire to appear virtuous, or to help her husband become more considerate, a reluctance to upset her partner, or a wish to avoid conflict. Below, in bold, are a few examples, gleaned from the poll, of the sort of things women might say, in some situations, which could have hidden meaning and a few light hearted suggestions of what they could mean in italics.

Going Out:

I'm nearly ready! I'm nowhere near ready.

I'm not ready yet. It's obvious that I'm not ready, yet, because I'm still drying my hair. Sitting in the car, on the drive, with the engine running won't make my hair dry any faster.

Would you check the doors and windows, before we go out, please? If you're sitting twiddling your thumbs and I'm obviously not yet ready to go out, why don't YOU check the doors and windows, instead of leaving it to me.

Shopping:

I'm just going into Accessorize to buy a pretty scarf for your sister, for her birthday. I'm just going into Accessorize to buy a pretty scarf for your sister, for her birthday and 2 for myself, whilst I'm there.

Don't buy that for me, for my birthday. It's far too expensive. I'll be absolutely thrilled if you buy that for me, for my birthday, in spite of the fact that it's so expensive.

I like both outfits. I can't decide which to have. Could we fast for a week, so that I could buy both of these outfits?

At Home:

Would you mash the potatoes, please? Don't stand doing nothing, in the kitchen, whilst I am running around like a blue arsed fly, trying to do 3 things at the same time.

Would you take the garden rubbish to the tip, please? It's supposed to be your responsibility to take the rubbish to the tip. It's been sitting there for about 4 weeks and it's starting to smell. You can see it and you can smell it as well as I can, so why do I have to nag, before you will do something about it?

It's OK, thanks, I can plug the lawnmower in. It's supposed to be your responsibility to cut the grass, whilst I look after the rest of the garden. If I decide that I ought to cut the grass, because you've not done it for 3 weeks, don't plug the lawnmower in for me. It's infuriating. If you do it again, I shall make you swallow the plug.

Can I have a glass of wine, now, please? When I said, half an hour ago, that I didn't want any wine, I didn't mean that you could instantly knock back the whole bottle, without pausing for breath.

No, I'm not blogging again. I'm just checking my emails. I was blogging, until you interrupted me. Now, I'm checking my emails.

Unavoidable Conflict:

There's nothing wrong. There's something wrong. I can't discuss it with you, yet, because I'm still simmering, but, believe me, I will discuss it, when I come to the boil.

I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry I said that out loud.

It's OK. I know you didn't mean it, when you said that I was an ugly old cow. I'm having a headache, later, so don't bother suggesting any hanky panky. I haven't decided how long it will last, yet.

I forgive you. I'll remember what you did and bring it up in every argument, from now until dementia sets in.

Extra Marital:

Why are you so late home from work all the time? Are you having an affair?

No, I don't mind in the least if you go to watch the match, on Saturday and spend all day Sunday playing golf. I'm having an affair.

Mean Moody Middle-aged Mom would be interested in hearing from anyone, who has had first hand experience of such unscrupulous women. Perhaps your sister, or best friend suffers from such tendencies. Please leave a comment. Mean Mom would like to know.

Male readers please note: In no event will Mean Moody Middle-aged Mom be liable for any arguments or injuries arising, or divorce proceedings instigated, either directly or indirectly as a result of belief in the content of this post.

A Foolproof Guide To Blogging!

1. Don't start a blog, if your only reason for doing so is that you're hoping for a book deal. Generally, statistics show that there is less likelihood of this occurring than a cold day in hell.

2. If you are a miserable old bat, or a dirty old git and you want to interact with young, attractive members of the opposite sex on your blog, find a photo of someone sexy, young and desirable and put it in your profile. When swapping comments or emails with young, attractive bloggers of the opposite sex, bear in mind that they may have pulled a similar stunt.

3. When publishing your first ever post, don't assume that the world is waiting, with bated breath, to comment. If you want to interact, you first of all have to let people know that you exist.

4. If you have a secret blog, don't open your big mouth, whilst chatting to your nosey friends and say something along the lines of 'I wrote a post about that, on my blog, the other day.' The ensuing silence may be deafening and those you looked upon as friends, may spend the next 3 weeks, singlemindedly scouring blogland, in a quest to uncover your most intimate thoughts and desires.

5. Those who are aware of your blog, are more than likely to view your fellow bloggers as imaginary friends. Never mention them, or their exploits, in conversation. It's comparable to a schizophrenic mentioning the voices in his head and it will provoke a similar reaction.

6. Don't make your posts long and complicated. Very few bloggers want to read a tome. If they do, they will go to the library and borrow something penned by a real writer, such as Les Miserables (unabridged), War and Peace, or Lord of the Rings. At last, I think I know where I'm going wrong.

7. Don't publish anything that you would feel uncomfortable with dirty old Tom, dirty old Dick, or dirty old Harry viewing. Unfortunately, they have access to Blogland, too.

8. If you're not bothered about dirty old Tom, Dick or Harry, and you are desperate for a disproportionate amount of anonymous hits on your site, write something smutty, with plenty of appropriate labels.

9. Try not to weep inconsolably when you publish a new post and you don't have any comments within the first 10 minutes. Unlike you, other bloggers may have a life.

10. Try not to be a blog tart. If you comment indiscriminately on 100 sites, within 5 minutes, in an attempt to drastically increase your comment count, you have a much higher chance of accidentally encountering the Superbitch From Hell, or the Devil's Spawn. Discriminate!

11. Don't waste time pouring over Site Meter, wondering why one of your favourite bloggers visited without leaving a comment. She may have been abruptly dragged away by a family member to conjure up some sort of nourishment, or she may have been coaxed away by the gardener, to the potting shed, for a little afternoon delight. A male blogger could have been dragged off by his other half to do a little grouting, or could have fallen from his chair, when he received a surprise proposition from Kelly Brook - in his dreams, naturally.

12. Switch off your monitor, if any of your offspring are spying on your blog, over your shoulder. Even your finest post will sound remarkably lame, when read out with pompous attitude, by one of your mischievous munchkins.

13. When choosing between looking after house and garden and blogging, choose blogging until the neighbours gang up and complain to the council.

14. Never blog unless you should be doing something much more important. The resulting pangs of guilt can only be described as exquisite.

15. If you are short of blogging time, buy a laptop, so that you can multi task. You can then brown your mince with one hand, whilst typing with the other, or watch The One Show with your left eye, whilst reading posts with your right.

16. If you blog naked, never let on. Some people are surprisingly put off by the thought of this.

17. When blogging naked, at least wear your glasses. Tipping mistekes can be very annoying for the weader. I wish someone had warned me about this.

18. Don't risk posting or commenting, if you're too drunk to maintain an upright position on your blogging chair. You could suffer serious repercussions next day, when offended bloggers wreak their revenge.

19. Don't sleep until you've blogged. Sleep is easier to catch up with.

20. Last, but not least, get your priorities right! If you are really determined to be a top blogger, never let real life interfere with regular blogging!

I Can Do Positive Spin, Too!

Part One

Those of you who read my post of 17 December, will already know that I get slightly peed off, every year, when I receive a round robin from an acquaintance on whom the sun always shines - according to her, anyway. I have never sent her a round robin, in return, but I'm beginning to feel tempted. I feel that I could probably start my December 2009 round robin, to my acquaintance, with a blow by blow account of my personal, festive experiences in late 2008/early 2009, which would run along similar lines to the missive below. As my true blogging friends, you will, of course, be privvy to the truth, or extra details, which I would not choose to share with her, in italics, as well as to the positive spin, in bold.

December 2009

Dear Wilhelmina, Walter and Winifred

Thanks so much for your numerous missives over the past few years. It seemed about time for me to return the compliment, so here is a lengthy and tedious summary of our experiences over the past 12 months or so, beginning with December 2008.

We began our annual festive spend, in the middle of December, by refurbishing the family bathroom to a high standard, so that our invited guests could enjoy the use of our superior facilities, over the New Year period.

We were expecting my husband's family to stay with us, over New Year, as usual, so I was forced into finding someone, quickly, with the necessary expertise, to carry out much needed repairs to our family bathroom, after a fairly disastrous installation by * & * (diy chain, rhyming with 'Me & You'). I won't bore you with the painful details, but it had something to do with a dodgy fitter on contract, a repeatedly broken seal around the shower tray, a supposedly 'independent' inspector and investigating body, who decided against us and a near nervous breakdown (MINE!).

After paying out £360, a few days before Christmas, to have the damaged bathroom walls repaired and re-tiled etc, we discovered that the shower cartridge needed replacing, due to lack of regular use, which added another £112 to the total bill.

A week before Christmas, I went out with more friends than you did, Wilhelmina, to the most renowned and expensive restaurant in our affluent locality, where we enjoyed our usual Christmas feast.

A week before Christmas, I went out to the local pub, with some of my friends, for our usual Christmas lunch. I had no paper hat in my cracker and the friend sitting opposite me, coughed and shivered throughout lunch, even though it was hotter than the caverns of hell, in the pub. 2 days later, I was suffering in the same way. I'm pretty sure that it was flu, because it knocked me off my feet and, 3 weeks later, I'm still feeling the effects.

I am constantly amazed by the increasing amount of Christmas cards, we receive each year. There were so many this year, that I grew tired of trying to find places to put them.

I was so ill in the days leading up to Christmas, that I didn't have the energy to put up this year's Christmas cards.

Student son put up the Christmas tree and lights in the house, as he does every year. He likes to make a contribution and is helpful and thoughtful, by nature.

Student son knows that I wouldn't put up the tree until Christmas Eve, so he puts it up earlier, himself. He sellotapes Christmas lights around all of the windows, every year, leaving me to get rid of the sticky patches left behind, when the lights are taken down.

I enjoyed a deliberately late, last minute expedition to the shops on Christmas Eve, so that I could admire the colourful Christmas lights, illuminating the velvety darkness in our small country town and so that I could treat the whole family to some extra little luxuries for the Christmas period.

I forced myself to crawl to the shops, just before they closed, on Christmas Eve, whilst I was still feeling ill, as I was in desperate need of several essential food items.

I was so busy dashing around, in the days just before Christmas, that I shed 4 lbs, which, strictly speaking, I couldn't really afford to lose!

I couldn't eat when I was ill, so I lost 4 lbs. I put it back on again, as soon as I was feeling better.

We had lots to fit in, on Christmas day. We leapt out of bed, early, opened our mountain of presents, went to eldest sons for lunch, drove to pick up my aunt, in the Midlands, late afternoon and arrived at my parents' house in time for tea. It was a tremendously busy, but fun-filled day.

I was over the worst of my illness and no longer contagious, by Christmas day, so we were able to fit in everything we had planned, even though I would have preferred to spend the time in bed. I spent the whole day coughing and couldn't finish my Christmas lunch. I had to drink water instead of port, because of my cough.

The luxury crackers we splashed out on and took over to my son's house to pull before Christmas lunch, were very much appreciated and very well received.

My husband bought some luxury crackers from Asda and everyone complained that they were crap.

My 3 sons were exceptionally thrilled with the rhythm sticks we bought them for one of their surprise presents, this year.

We could only afford one surprise present for our sons, this year. Unfortunately, I had no idea that my middle son had bought a more sophisticated version of the same sort of thing, for his elder and younger brothers, which resulted in elder brother being a bit incredulous and grumpy. (He's only 25. He hasn't yet learned how to cope with crap Christmas presents in a diplomatic fashion.)

I received some wonderful Christmas presents, including a beautiful, hardback, glossy book about dollshouses and miniatures, some lovely soaps, expensive perfume, a very large box of chocolates and some luxury shower cream.

I did have some lovely presents, but I never eat chocolates, due to my past dental problems and any shower lotion, other than Sanex, brings me out in a rash. I've hidden the chocolates in the bedroom, hoping that middle son will forget he bought them for me, but he keeps asking if I've opened them yet. I've put the shower gel with the other 3 bottles that my husband has bought me in the past, which I am also unable to use, because I haven't yet found the words to remind him that I can only use one particular brand.

OK. I'm leaving it there, for today, because I can hear some of you snoring. Part 2 is ready to publish, but you obviously need a little rest. You're not dribbling, on my blog, are you? You know that I have a thing about that! Don't forget to come back when you can face part 2!

To be continued.........

Round Robins And Positive Spin

I generally receive only one round robin at Christmas time, now. I met the woman who sends it to me, on just a few occasions, and thought her quite pleasant. I was surprised when she began sending me round robins, after she moved abroad, with her husband and daughter. I was taken aback to discover how much of a snob she seemed to be and to realise how crucial it was to her, to convince a mere acquaintance, that she was enjoying an idyllic existence, since leaving Great Britain behind her.

This woman has never once admitted to being homesick, missing friends and relations, or to missing anything about Great Britain, since she left this country. I suspect that she considers modesty to be the eighth deadly sin, as her bragging has often taken my breath away. Apparently, her husband is a high earner, who seems to be promoted every year and she has a 'model' daughter. They are a family of high achievers. She achieves, where others fail. She never fails. They have lots of money and lots of holidays. They have lots of friends and only good things happen to her. She must be the mother of all positive spin.

Normally, my husband and I glance through her round robins, have a bit of a joke about them and toss them to one side, but, this time, I had a rather wicked thought. I was feeling a bit short of ideas for my blog and I realised that the round robin might provide some good material for a post. I have amused myself greatly by speculating about the true meaning, which could lie behind some of the boastful content and positive spin, contained in the round robin I received a few days ago. The boasting is rather low key, this year, compared to others, but I have listed some excerpts from it, in bold, below. Possible interpretations are in italics.

Hi - it's that time of year again, time for our annual missive - I can no longer be bothered to insert your names in my round robin, because, ultimately, it's all about me. I so look forward to this time of year, because it's very important to me to convince you, in my round robin, that my husband and I have far more money than you and I need you to know how much we enjoy finding different ways of spending it.

2008 has been a fairly quiet year for us - I'm fairly sure that we've spent more money on holidays this year, than you've earned.

My husband, Walter, has been promoted and is now Head of Internal Communication for ****** (all 66,000 + people) so he is spending time settling into his new role - My husband now has a different job, within his company and is earning more money, because he is in possession of some compromising photos of the CEO. Walter has upset so many clients that he is no longer allowed to communicate with anyone outside the company. He hasn't yet worked out what his new role entails.

We enjoyed having our daughter, Winifred, back with us, from university, last Christmas - After starting university in October 2007, our daughter had no desire to see us until Christmas and she only came then, because she didn't receive a better invitation.

In the week before Christmas, we travelled to **** with a group of friends (25 of us) - Winifred and I to ski, and Walter to walk. We enjoyed blue skies and sunshine the whole time. Winifred and I remained unscathed, but Walter hurt his knee whilst walking and it took him several weeks to recover - We can afford an expensive winter holiday, as well as paying for Christmas presents etc. I've counted my friends and I'm hoping that I have more than you. Walter didn't want to go skiing, but gave in to my demands, so that I could keep up with my friends and boast about it in my round robin. It never rains in my world. Nothing dreadful ever happens to me, or my daughter. We are lucky. My husband is unlucky, so he hurt his knee. It serves him right because he didn't want to go skiing and he didn't join in.

Winifred has been studying hard, but enjoying her time at university, whilst achieving good academic results. - Winifred is taking a degree in Snakes and Ladders and only has one lecture a fortnight.

The first year has seen a lot partying. She had a good time during her first year's stay in halls, as there was always something going on -Winifred drank a lot and slept around during her first year in halls.

This academic year, she has moved into a house with 7 other girls - I was impressed when I found out that my daughter had 7 friends. When she told me that they were girls, I believed her.

Once again, Winifred took advantage of her sailing skills, and got a summer job teaching sailing, spending the summer vacation in *****. This time she worked for a smaller company. She seemed to have a thoroughly enjoyable time - particularly when there weren't many guests and she could make use of the hotel facilities - My daughter can sail. I think that this will impress you, because I'm fairly certain that you don't even know anyone who can sail. She's not very good, so the company she worked for last year would not employ her again. The company she worked for this year didn't have many bookings and it was going under.

Unfortunately, this meant that we only saw her for a few days at the beginning of the summer, as we didn't manage to get out to ***** to see her, because it was the high season and all of the flights were full - Winifred was determined not to spend much time with us, during the summer. She got the sack from her summer job, but didn't tell us. She knew that we wouldn't be able to get a flight to ***** to visit her, during the high season and by the time we were trying to book, she was already partying in Majorca, with one of the Greek waiters.

In April, Walter and I had a late celebration of our 30th wedding anniversary, (the actual date was October 07) when we jetted off to ******. We had a wonderful relaxing time in the hotel, where nothing was too much trouble for the lovely staff, who all lived locally - My husband was trying to avoid spending too much money on our anniversary celebrations, but I refused to let the subject drop, until he took me somewhere exotic, so that I could boast about it in my next round robin. We took advantage of the local peasants, working in the hotel, who waited on us hand and foot, with gritted teeth and a forced smile, in the hope of receiving a big tip.

Given the heat, we spent much of the day lazing in the pool - It was too hot. There wasn't much to see or do.

The most memorable experience for me was being in the water with a pink dolphin - I was so bored that I got pissed and began to see pink dolphins.

I had to visit a shopping mall and, of course, chose the largest in ****** - Fortunately, I couldn't find much else to do, but shop. I had so much money to spend, that it would have been a waste of time going to a small shopping mall.

The standard of living was quite low. We visited a typical house, in the area and it was like stepping back in time about 50 years. I must say that I was glad to get back to our luxury hotel - I don't like to mix with poor people and I certainly don't like to visit their houses. In fact, I don't know why I did visit a poor person's house and neither does anyone else. It was such a relief to return to the real world and remember that I have lots of money.

Winifred will be heading our way in the middle of December, with a friend. She is then hoping that we will be going to ****, skiing again, before Christmas - Winifred can't bear the thought of being alone with us for Christmas.

In the 10 years we have been here, we have seen many changes. When we arrived, there were no such things as 'ready meals'. Now there is a fair selection of convenience foods - nothing like the UK, but certainly enough to make life easier! Many of the supermarkets are now open until 8pm, instead of closing at 5pm. I wonder what the next few years will bring and whether we will be here to see it - I found it impossible to manage without convenience food, when we first moved here. The opening times for the shops were totally inconvenient, for the first few years, but I never mentioned, previously, that I found some aspects of life difficult here, because it was essential to convince you poor people living in GB, that my life was perfect in every way. My husband may lose his job, in the next round of redundancies and we may have to return to the country of our birth, which we have mercilessly poured scorn upon, for the last few years.

Merry Christmas and a Prosperous and Happy 2009 - Try to have a good Christmas, and New Year, in spite of the fact that you have hardly any money and live in a country, which is on the verge of bankcruptcy.


I do hope that this woman doesn't blog! I'm not sure that she would appreciate my sense of humour! If you are the author of this round robin, however, please don't take it personally. It's just a joke - really, it is and don't be put off sending me your usual round robin next year, will you? I so look forward to it and, anyway, what will I blog about at this time of year, if you don't?

Mean Mom's Christmas List

Warning - adult content!


Dear Santa

I'm not too late, am I? I haven't had a minute to blow my nose, over the last few days, but I suddenly remembered that I hadn't finished off my Christmas list. There are so many vital things missing from my life. I know, however, that the following items will make my happiness complete:

1. A small bottle of Fresh Drop Smell Stop can get rid of nasty smells after a visit to the smallest room in the house, apparently. My passion for late night curries would cease to be a problem, if I had a bottle of this in my possession. In fact, 5 bottles would be ideal, in case the other members of my family have forgotten to add it to their list.

2. A Black Cat Tea Towel Holder sounds like a great idea. At last, a handy place to keep my tea towel! If only my own 3 cats would keep still for a minute, it wouldn't be necessary for me to add this to my list, of course.

3. If I am lucky enough to receive the above, there is no doubt that I will also need an endless supply of QeeZee sick bags. Bags to barf in. What could be more useful? Far more convenient that the bucket I usually carry around.

4. The next item to add to my list has to be a pack of Marked Player Cards. Ideal for my late night poker sessions with my Godfather and his Family. What is that lump in my bed?

5. Next is a Pink Hip Flask. Such an improvement on the bottle I usually carry around to swig from. I only have one reservation. It won't hold much. Perhaps I could have more than one?

6. A packet of Jelly Willies would be a tremendous treat, I think. I know it's a bit of a cheeky request, so I'm afraid to say much about these, but I would just like to mention the fact that it is also possible to buy a box of chocolate ones, in case you think I deserve more than one treat, for my exemplary behaviour throughout the year.

7. Moving swiftly on to the Smoking Mitts. I don't smoke, but I'm thinking of taking it up, so that I can sport these stylish mitts, outside my local on a Saturday night.

8. The next item is a Spare Pair. At last! Has someone been reading my blog? A dream come true for many a menopausal woman!

9. Next, a Piss Off I'm Busy sign. Don't you get fed up of beating around the bush, sometimes? Say what you mean. No one will be offended - really!

10. A Builders Bottom Calendar would be wonderful, Santa. I never see enough of them. This calendar would give me the opportunity of having a new one on display every month. Wonder if there's anyone I know? Hmm........

11. Next request is the stylish Frog Hat. I certainly wouldn't limit its use to the bathroom. It would be wonderful rain apparel, I feel.

12. Last, but not least, on my list is the Glow in the Dark Tumbler.

The problem with half empty bottles, I find, is that they often roll under the bed, when I reach out for them in the early hours. It's such a waste, if I've forgotten to screw the lid back on the vodka, before slipping into a drunken stupor, the night before. A glow in the dark tumbler would be a godsend for such a situation.

That's about it, then, Santa. I do hope that I haven't given you the wrong impression. I've been very good throughout the year, with only an occasional lapse. I definitely deserve lots of presents. Don't forget to call on Christmas Eve, will you? I'll leave out your mince pie and a glass of winter warmer, plus your usual pack of 20 Silk Cut.

Now, about that money I owe you from the last poker game, could I just leave you a little on account? The credit crunch has left me a bit short.......

Lots of Love

Mean Materialistic Mom

A Challenging Meme

I finally decided to try the meme which requires only a single word answer to each question. I last saw it at suburbia's place. It must be the toughest I have ever attempted! Could anything be more challenging, for a woman? OK, if by any chance there is a man visiting my site, don't be tempted to reply to that one - not if you're looking forward to your Christmas dinner, anyway.

I needed at least 3 words to reply to these questions and some required a whole paragraph, if not a whole post. Anyway, here is my attempt:

1. Where is your cell phone? Safe

2. Your significant other? Grumpy

3. Your hair? Superfluous

4. Your mother? Paragliding

5. Your father? Driving

6. Your favourite thing? Preparation H

7. Your dream last night? Wild

8. Your favourite drink? Bovril

9. Your dream/goal? Sweet

10. The room you're in? Padded

11. Your fear? Dribbling

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Shrewsbury

13. Where were you last night? Dunno

14. What you're not? 'bovvered'

15. Muffins? Please

16. One of your wish list items? Comments

17. Where you grew up? Haven't

18. The last thing you did? Dribbled (damn!)

19. What are you wearing? Smile

20. Your TV? Dusty

21. Your pet? Cats

22. Your computer? Infuriating

23. Your life? Frustrating

24. Your mood? Dangerous

25. Missing someone? Sons

26. Your car? Old

27. Something you're not wearing? Handcuffs

28. Favourite store? Post Office

29. Your summer? BRIEF

30. Your favourite colour? Fuchsia

31. When is the last time you laughed? January

32. Last time you cried? Just

OK, I did cheat a bit, but not as much as I wanted to!

A Cheery Post

I would like to dedicate this post to swearing mother who has devoted so much of her time to cheering up her fellow bloggers, I thought that, for once, I would like to return the favour.

I'm feeling a bit down, at the moment and I can't help but notice that some of you are feeling the same way. It's probably something to do with dark nights and Christmas preparations, that some of us simply don't have the stomach for, at the moment. So the question is 'How to cheer up?'


We all know about the basic things that we're supposed to do, like follow a healthy diet, exercise regularly and that sort of thing, but here's a few others you might not have thought of:

1. Think of a few things to be thankful for, such as the fact that:

• You didn't wake up a few days ago to discover that you were the new President Elect. How scary would that have been on a scale of 1-10?
• your daughter hasn't published a book about her childhood, called 'Ugly', accusing you of child abuse
• you're not one of the judges who've been so cruelly critical of John Sergeant, on Strictly. Boo! Hiss!

2. Watch some out-takes on tv. How can watching others falling over, or messing up not be amusing? Laughing at the misfortunes of others must surely be the favourite British pastime!


3. Go into Clinton Cards and peruse the On-The-Ceiling cards. Here's a couple of my favourites:

4. Ask a friend to tell you a few old jokes. Oh, that would be me, then. You all know that I have a silly sense of humour, so I'm not apologising for finding these short jokes amusing, no matter how often I hear them. They are attributed to Tommy Cooper, I think.

A jump lead walks into a bar. The barman says, 'I'll serve you, but don't start anything.'

Sometimes I drink my whisky neat. Other times, I take my tie off and leave my shirt out.

So I said to the taxi driver, 'King Arthur's Close.'
He said, 'Don't worry, we'll lose him at the next lights.'

And the back of his anorak was leaping up and down, and people were chucking money at him. I said 'Do you earn a living doing that?'
He said, 'Yes, this is my livelihood.'

A man takes his rottweiler to the vet. 'My dog's cross-eyed. Is there anything you can do for him?'
'Well,' says the vet, 'let's have a look at him.' So he picks up the dog, examines his eyes, then checks his teeth. Finally, he says, 'I'm going to have to put him down.'
'What? Because he's cross-eyed?'
'No, because he's really heavy.'

So, I'm getting into my car and this bloke says to me, 'Can you give me a lift?'
I said, 'Sure. You look great. The world's your oyster. Go for it.'

Here's a joke that's been related to me more than once. I never let on that I've heard it before, because it always makes me smile.

Sharon is visiting Tracey, for a chat, when there is a knock at the front door and a bouquet of flowers is delivered from Tracey's husband. 'Oh, crap!' says Tracey. 'That's me flat on my back, with my legs apart for the next few days, then!'
'Why?' asks Sharon, looking startled. 'Haven't you got a vase?'

Lastly, if you've ever kept a cat or dog, or both, you might like to check out the first 2 links below. If you can't be bothered with those, you might like to check out the third:

1. Rules for cats

2. why dogs are better pets than cats

3.real answers given on various chat and quiz shows

There's some other funny stuff there, (triffle.org) too, if you have a few minutes to spare.

There it is, then. I know it's all corny stuff, but I hope that it's helped to cheer everyone up a bit. Well, you didn't expect anything sophisticated from me, did you?

Seasons Greetings!

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose........ Oh, there you are! Why not turn on your speakers so that you can listen to my Christmas songs? Did I hear someone groaning on my blog?

Has anyone wished you a 'Merry Christmas', yet? Can I be the first, then?

I love Christmas, especially when it starts in September. I get so excited that I have to wear my Tenna pants day and night. Only 36 shopping days to Christmas, you know!

Have you written your Christmas cards, yet, or wrapped your presents, bought your Christmas candles, put up your Christmas tree and iced your Christmas cake? Have you slipped off the roof, yet, whilst putting up your illuminated santa and sleigh? It's worth a couple of days in hospital, though, isn't it, when you see the delight on the children's faces?

I buy my Christmas cards in the January sales and some of my Christmas presents, too. I've always got some of my presents wrapped and all of my cards written by the end of January. Have I ever mentioned that I have a Btech in one-upmanship? Anything you can start, I can start earlier.

The limit on my husband's credit card is so high, this year, that I can hardly believe my luck. I bought the remainder of my Christmas presents last month and I'm so pleased, because the post office didn't have to send a special van to deliver the Barclaycard statement, this time. It was only 999 pages long and I think we actually might manage to pay it off by September next year. That'll be a whole month earlier than this year!

I have to confess that I do have a few little gripes concerning Christmas, however:

1. I wish the Christmas stuff would appear earlier in the shops. September just isn't early enough. Perhaps it could appear in February, next year. You can never have too much of a good thing, in my opinion.

2. I haven't had a Christmas card, yet, this year! Mine had all been delivered by the end of August. Come on, everybody! What are you all doing? It is the middle of November!

3. I never get enough of those Christmas catalogues, do you? Could someone send me a few more? Preferably the same ones that I already have, but with a different cover. I can still open the front door, so I know that I don't have anywhere near enough, so far.

4. I never get enough round robins either. I always look forward to hearing about how well near strangers are doing, since they emigrated to paradise, where it rains gold coins and you can safely walk in the streets after dark. It fair warms the cockles of my heart to learn that mere acquaintances have been 'lucky enough' to finally move into the small mansion of their dreams and that their darling offspring have achieved straight 'A's in subjects that they weren't even studying. Could we perhaps have round robins at Easter, as well as Christmas? I think that I could probably just about cope with the extra joy that this would bring.

5. Finally, I'm quite disturbed to see that there are nowhere near enough tins of chocolate biscuits and Christmas sweets in the shops. I fear that there simply won't be enough to go round and that some of us will still have teeth without fillings at the end of January.

You'll be pleased to know that I've looked through all of the Christmas catalogues and compiled an enormous list of things I can no longer live without. The most important ones are:

1. A Star Wars bobble head

2. some tattoo sleeves

3. a pets' arse sharpener

4. a Darth Vader suit for my newborn

5. a drooly bib

Whichever present you decide on, could you please wrap it in expensive Christmas wrapping paper, with lots of sellotape, as those Christmas gift bags are a bit of a cop out, aren't they, really?

Anyway, must be off. Can't hang around talking to you lot forever. I'm just off to Somerfield to take advantage of their BOGOF offer on port. Two bottles for £9.99! That's one for each hand by my reckoning. I aim to save them for Christmas day and, by the time the Queen's speech comes on, I should have slipped silently under the table, with a bit of luck. I suppose that I'll probably be discovered on Boxing day, when everyone's looking for somebody to make the turkey sandwiches and hand round the pickled onions.

Now, as soon as I get back from the supermarket, I'm going to stuff the turkey and put the sprouts on. Did I mention that I've got a Btech in one-upmanship? Oh, I already did, did I?

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Santa - if you're reading this, is there any chance of having a Pocket Surfer 2 for Christmas? I (really, really do) Want One Of Those!

Christmas lovers, please don't take offence at the above. It's all tongue in cheek. I do enjoy (most aspects of) Christmas - no really!

Tagged Again!

Suburbia, you've very kindly given me an award, but tagged me again! You know that these things bring out the worst in me and that I can't resist them. Do you think that maybe I've got multiple personality disorder?

This one has a '7's theme:

7 Things I plan to do before I die:

Finish my ironing

Pluck that stray hair out of my chin

Have another brazilian

Have sex with Russell Brand and make sure I give him my grandfather's home telephone number

Moon my next door neighbour

Get drunk and have sex on the beach in Dubai

My pelvic floor exercises

7 Things I do now:

Blog when I should be ironing

Wear a very large hat to distract attention from the stray hair on my chin

Shampoo, condition, apply a little mousse, followed by a blow dry and a bit of hair lacquer to keep everything tidy down there

Have sex with anyone who professes to love me for my mind

Moon my next door neighbour as soon as he turns his back

Have sex on the beach in Brighton. It 's so cold that there's nobody around to bother

Carry a spare pair, in case of little accidents

7 Things I can't do:

Sit like this. It hurts my left knee, lately

Stand up after sitting like this, these days

Turn on the tap, after middle son has turned it off

Play the piano

Read without my glasses and a good light

Limbo without something dragging on the floor

Get my size 8 jeans past my ankles

7 things that attract me in the opposite sex:

A beard

A reluctance to discard anything because it might come in useful in 10 years' time and save us 20p

Total lack of enthusiasm for diy

The desire to spend thousands on a holiday, when the house is falling apart

Ability to love me even when I'm in the menopause

Loving my sons as much as I do

Sharing my silly sense of humour

Well, that was unbelievably lucky, then! Fortunately, I found my perfect match!

7 things I say most often:

Middle son, can you turn up your music? My brain isn't vibrating against the sides of my skull, yet

Can you use more towels? I haven't got enough for 5 full loads, yet

I've had to write you a message on a piece of paper today, instead of scrawling one, with my finger, on the top of the dining room table, because I've dusted

I know where I've put that

I'm just going for a 5 mile run, before I do my pelvic floor exercises

I wish that my tummy would stick out a bit. It's so flat

Will you make more mess in the house? There's nowhere near enough

7 Celebrities that I admire

Well, I don't exactly admire them, but I do admire their ability to convince certain people that they should be rewarded for not a lot, or for just being obnoxious, arrogant, or irritating

Russell Brand

Jonathan Ross

Jade Goody

Jeremy Clarkson

Jodie Marsh

Liz Hurley

Tara Palmer Tomkinson

7 Favourite foods

Burnt toast

Burnt sausage

Lumpy gravy

Lumpy custard

Meat overcooked

Soggy veg

Soggy pastry

Luckily I can whip up all of the above in no time at all!

7 Bloggers who need to do this:

Well, I don't really mind who does it - anyone can, who fancies it, but I'd like to pass on the award to the following:

auntiegwen

dusty spider

maggie may

merry weather

scrappysue

robin

blogthatmama

If any of the above would like to do the tag, I will be over to read it, of course!

The (Imaginary) Diary Of A White Van Man And Woman

What a busy and profitable few days we have enjoyed with our white van! On Monday, we travelled up to London with a delivery. We dropped a load of rotting compost on the doorstep of number 10 at maggie may's request. We left no accompanying card, but I'm sure that the occupant got the message, even if he didn't know exactly who sent it!

The next day, after dressing up as police officers, we set up our own speed camera, in a lay-by, at suburbia's suggestion and imposed 'on the spot' fines. What a lucrative business that turned out to be! Unfortunately, the real police caught up with us and forced us to hand over all of our 'easy money'. They explained that, up until the introduction of speed cameras, the length and occurrence of their Christmas party had been dependent upon the availability of an empty cell in the local police station. The ever increasing amounts of money generated by the speed cameras, however, meant that, last year, they had all enjoyed a long weekend partying in Mallorca and, this year, they had their fingers crossed for a week in an exclusive hotel in the Maldives.

On Wednesday, at irene's suggestion, we decided to rob a bank. With hindsight, we realised that we should have chosen a British one, rather than an Icelandic one, but our Financial Advisor has suggested that we should hold on to the sack loads of IOUs we succeeded in stealing, as he feels that we have an excellent chance of them becoming legal tender, within the next few days.

The next day, I teamed up with robin for a bit of kidnapping. We managed to grab George Clooney and Johnny Depp, with every intention of demanding a king's ransom for their safe return. After a little consideration, however, we decided to keep them and 'to hell with the ransom!' It's my turn for George next week.

On Friday, I parked on the side of the road, at the suggestion of auntiegwen and commandeered the back of the van, in order to dabble in the profession, which is widely accepted as the oldest known to mankind. I do hope that you didn't get caught up in the ensuing traffic jam, caused by men with white sticks, or guide dogs, crossing the dual carriageway in a rather willy-nilly fashion. You'll be relieved to know that no one was seriously hurt and, in fact, a jolly good time was had by all.

On Saturday, we picked up some radiators from the side of working mum's house and sold them for scrap. She was a little annoyed that the deed preceded the invitation, but it's my belief that she'll see the funny side of it any day now. Working mum has shown great commitment to the cause for energy conservation, by discarding her radiators and we would strongly advise you all to follow her example. We will gladly relieve you of the scrap metal and you will have the satisfaction of feeling virtuous, if rather chilly, for the duration of the winter months.

On Sunday, at merry weather's suggestion, we loaded up the van with a tent and provisions and headed off for a well-earned short break. We decided to go to France, at the invitation of farming-frenchstyle, in the expectation of picking up some useful tips from her other half, who is also a white van driver. Our hopes of travelling alone were dashed, however, when some of our neighbours heard that we were crossing the Channel. We were inundated with requests from British Citizens, begging us to help them escape from a life of unemployment and poverty. We squeezed in as many Brits as our van would hold and headed off for Shangri-La.

By the time we met up with farming-frenchstyle, we had dropped off our cargo and were almost totally exhausted from counting our ill-gotten Euros. We were somewhat surprised to learn from farming-frenchstyle and her husband, that a white van could be used for legitimate money-making ventures and, as a result of our enlightenment, we vowed that our criminal activities would cease once we had returned to England.

It was impossible to resist liz's suggestion of picking up a few ill-informed 'illegals' on the way home, though. They hadn't seen a newspaper for 3 weeks and couldn't understand why we were requesting payment in gold jewellery, (in need of repair, or not) when the streets of London were paved with gold. English folklore and the British pantomime still have a lot to answer for.

We stopped only to stock up with booze and fags, to sell on the black market, before wending our weary way back across the Channel. On our return, we decided to remove temptation from our lives and we gave back the company van. All of our illegal activities have now ceased, but we feel that we've been enormously fortunate in finding respectable jobs in the city.

Anyone want to buy any stocks and shares? Come on, now, there couldn't be a better time to buy! From here, the only way is up, isn't it?

With apologies to the majority of white van drivers who use their vehicles for legitimate purposes and whose reputations suffer, because of a minority who indulge in criminal activity.

Note for the confused: This post has been constructed around some of the comments from the previous one.