Weddings

I hope that you'll please forgive me if I ever repeat myself, it's something I seem to do rather a lot of, getting forgetful in my old age.

Tonight I have the urge to discuss weddings and marriage, which I feel has been brought on by the upcoming nuptials of my fantastic friends Suzie Womble and her Lovely Welsh Ram. I hope that they won't mind me mentioning them and the fact that this is not the first time round for either of them, but I can confidently say they'll back me 100% when I say they are made for each other. Plus I'm not sure I agree with the whole til death us do part bit anyway, I think that was written when the average life expectancy was about 30, watch out Mr Grumpy!

As you know, Ms Womble is truly bonkers but truly lovely, she'd do anything for her friends, shout at your kids for you, close your curtains when you're on holiday, she'll even bring you wine when you most need it, but most of all she has got the most amazing ear and friendly shoulder and I can honestly say I trust her with my life. Oh enough sop, you get the idea.

So as Suzie and the Ram look set to spend the rest of their lives together I have had lots of thoughts racing through my head. The most disturbing of which must have been the dream I had last night. As we grow ever nearer to the big day I am having to think seriously about what I'm going to wear and if the very posh wedding invitations are anything to go by it's not a jeggings and boob tube type affair. However, in my dream last night I had found what I thought to be the perfect outfit and I had one of those situations where everyone was telling me how lovely I looked. I, however, was not quite so convinced , picture if you can or dare a cross between Lady ga ga and flashdance, not a pretty sight and as I mentioned before I couldn't ask anyone if I looked fat! So I think that over the next few weeks I shall be visiting various different retail emporiums, not Top Shop, I'm thinking more designer, more class, more style, more money. Maybe I could post a few of my findings on here for your opinions, honest feedback only please.

But just in case, I have checked with the Lovely Welsh Ram if ga ga is a go go and he said that he's all for it.... mmm, not convinced his family will feel the same way.

Pride or danger?

I'm not sure if I'm any good on commenting on the news and the terrible things that are going on around us in the world today. Of course I have my opinions and views but I don't know how confident I feel sharing them, I'm not my big brother, he always seems to get it right when he speaks of these things. (I'll add the link for his blog, it's really worth a read)

So please forgive me if I don't talk about the following in a political or so called correct way, but the news today of the suicide bombers on the Moscow Metro caused me to think of something that happened just before the school closed for half term. We were discussing the different moves in dance that could be used to represent war. Of course we had the usual responses from the boys of how you can use you hands, point your fingers and pretend you've got a gun. Valiantly the teacher carried on, trying to explain that there's more to war than the guns, there are the children that become embroiled in it, the women that will do anything for what they believe is expected of them. To emphasise her point, she showed some pictures of war, children with guns, women starving, men with explosives strapped to their bodies. 

The teacher asked the children what these images did to their emotions, very quickly a young lad from Afghanistan put his hand up and said, "Some people believe it's a good and honourable thing to die for their country" I was a little shocked that words like this could come from an 11 year old boys mouth, a sign we're told to look out for, potential threats to the safety and security of our society. Then, after having had the time to digest it, I realised that he's no more a threat to me and my country than my son is to his. Master Musical is hoping to join the Navy and is very proud to tell all, as we're equally proud of him. Of course his intentions may not be to kill people, but they will be to protect his home, family and country from all those that oppose us. Will I go running to the authorities about him? No, just as I won't about that little boy.

He lives here because it's too dangerous for him in his homeland and he can't help or truly understand what he's been taught yet, but maybe after he's grown up here he'll think twice about how he puts his life on the line for those he loves.

Privacy

Oh dear, I've done it again, upsetting people, well one person apparently. As we have discussed recently I'm not really one for sugar coating things, I like to say it as it is and would rather people did the same with me.

I am a fan of social networking sites when it comes to keeping in touch with people, I know it's lazy and I should pick up the phone, but lately the lethargic me has lost all interest and energy in the phone. So I am a frequent user of Facebook, having a nosey in to other people's lives and keeping up with all the gossip. It's also been a fantastic way of reconnecting with old school friends, I love looking at their pics and seeing how they've changed and if they have! 

So last night when I was at a bit of a loose end, my stalker was busy, I decided to check out some of my friends status. Someone had posted this comment along the lines of "I am woman hear me roar" and all that crap about being underpaid, overworked, blah blah, I'm a mum and of course one of her friends had dived straight in with the whole, oh woe is me, my husband left me for someone younger, prettier and now I'm left holding the baby.

Well, please, who could resist? It was like it had my name, inviting a comment, written all over it. So I did. Apparently she didn't like it and particularly the bit where I told her to suck it up and get on with her life, you know, your kid, your house, your job, your choice, get on with it and quit moaning. How funny when six paragraphs later I thought she'd finally finished I decided to stir the hornets nest a little more and told her if she didn't like it being commented on she shouldn't post all her personal life on the internet. 

I haven't had so much fun in ages, evil aren't I? Know what? I don't care. My private life is exactly that and even though I blog and comment on Facebook, I will still only reveal what I want people to know. I really wanted to send her a final message saying that I wasn't surprised her husband had left her, moany old cow...

So a word of warning readers, beware what you write, if you don't want people to comment then send it privately, you never know if I'll be reading!

Teachers & gifts

So this morning I was confronted by the news that apparently teachers are getting more and more extravagant gifts from their pupils, or rather the parents of their pupils. Some say blackmail, some say a nice thank you gesture, I say, where the bloody hell is mine? I'd love a Tiffany bracelet or £1000 in gift vouchers, though as I'm not actually a teacher maybe that's being a bit greedy. OK, I'll settle for £500 vouchers, hell, I do the hard work in the classroom anyway! But in reality what are we likely to get off the kids at my school? Nits, back chat or a black eye.

I'm not sure where all this giving teachers a gift came from, I don't remember doing it when I was a child but somewhere along the line someone decided we should be giving some sort of token to say thanks for all you've done. Now don't get me wrong, I think if your little cherub wants to say thank you, then it's a sign of good manners and you should be proud, but seriously, the use of daddy's holiday home in the Seychelles??? Bit much I think. 

As a parent I have been requested by my sons to purchase gifts for their favourite teachers and like all soft mothers I agreed. But they were little tokens that were thoughtfully chosen, rather than a whacking great rock from Harrods! It almost brings me on to the whole issue of why do we tip waiting staff and hairdressers? I know why it started but let's face it, hairdressers especially are no longer as hard done by as they may once have been.

Well all I can say is that in my year at the school where I work, I have received a few but lovely things from a very few students. Handmade cards from two of my lower achieving students and only this week, a bar of chocolate from one of the most challenging 15 year olds in the school.

Forget Mastercard.... working with students that have additional educational needs... priceless. 

Forgetfulness

As I was going up the stairs for the third time and trying to remember the reason why today, I began to wonder if this whole memory loss as you get older, really is confined to old age.

I'm not going to go in to the realms of dementia as that's something that should not be spoken of lightly, apart from fond stories of loved ones that we have permission to re-tell. At this point I'm thinking of Mr Grumpy's grandma and how along with her memory she also lost her hearing. What a lovely, little old lady she was and always made us laugh, whether it was when she was being helped out of the bath and shouted for her helpers to take care as they were "splitting her splitter" or the time when she declared she may as well stick her hearing aid up her bum for all the use it was.

I digress... So why is it that for years I've been trying to put the kettle in the fridge, or my car keys in the bin? As I was coming down the stairs for the fourth time I also recalled the time I couldn't find my purse, of course I panicked, someone must have stolen it, or maybe I lost it while I was out? No, of course it was neither of these, it was tucked safely in the fruit bowl with the bananas, why didn't I look there first?

This is nothing new, I've been doing it for years and even though I'm getting on a bit now, I still know that the milk lives in the fridge, so why oh why did I put it in the cereal cupboard? I think the answer to all of this must be put down to the hectic lifestyles we lead, I say we because I know I'm not alone, in fact I bet you've done it too, haven't you? Does this mean then we need to take extra care? Are we being watched by small people ready to ship us off to some home somewhere? I wondered why Master Grumpy was recording my every move... 

So as I ascend the stairs to.... now, why am I going up here again?

 

Food

As someone that loves eating and quite enjoys cooking I am naturally drawn to programmes like Come Dine with Me. I think it's a mixture of looking in to other people's homes and lives, getting new recipe ideas and a realisation that I'm not as bad in the kitchen as I sometimes think I am.

I've never been one for fancy cooking, the aim of any meal in my opinion is to fill the people you're feeding, both to satisfy their hunger and their desires. I marvel at some of the dishes people on CDWM serve up to complete strangers and expect them to be in awe and grateful. What's with all these tartlets with goats cheese or miniscule dishes of soup? If you're going to feed someone at least ensure they know they have had it!

My cookery skills and recipes have been accumulated over a number of years and vary in where they were discovered or taught. The good old roast dinner with Yorkshire puds has to be a joint thank you to my mother and father but for true inspiration my paternal grandmother. Sunday dinner at my grandparents was truly a feast beyond words and one which rendered us all helpless for at least two hours after eating it.

My older sister in law taught me how to cook some of my favourite meals when the poor woman had me living with her and my brother when I was at the tender age of 16. Lasagne, chicken in a white sauce with peppercorns and Florida chicken to name but a few, all of which I still cook now. Talking of sisters in law, my younger one is also an amazing cook and her style reminds me of my grandmother, without the grey hair of course.... we never leave their house hungry, come to think of it, we rarely leave her house sober either. Mmmm, think that's a sister in law thing.

Some of my friends have cooked lovely meals for me and there are some, Mr K, that I am still waiting to cook for me... and it doesn't matter what it is they serve up as there's very little I won't eat, stop sniggering, but why is it that anything that someone else has cooked nearly always tastes twice as nice as if you'd cooked it yourself? Maybe it's all in the mind, maybe my cooking really isn't as good as anyone elses! 

So, at my tender age of 72 (see earlier blog) I am finally chuffed to have a man cooking for me, never happened before, sorry Mr Grumpy, frozen fish bake and a tin of beans does not count as cooking. Yes, Master Musical loves being in the kitchen and produces some lovely meals, including a proper Baxter Yorkshire pudding. Hopefully this is the start of things to come... maybe we could get on a special family edition of CDWM with my sisters in law? maybe we'll just have to do our own version of it, whatever happens, it'll be a week of no diets!

Advice & Knowledge

Lately I've been feeling a little under the weather, I don't want to say ill as I don't think I have a real illness, just not my usual self. I can still get up in the morning, get myself and the others in the house motivated, fed and watered and off in whichever direction they need to be pointed. I still get to work with a smile on my face, make it through the day, make it home, cook, act as taxi service, mother, wife, lover.... (I can hear Mr Grumpy tutting at that last one and making some sarcastic comment) 

So what's the problem? Well, about 5 weeks ago I came down with a little cold, I don't usually suffer with them and to be fair it didn't last long and certainly didn't stop me doing anything I needed to. But I appear to have been left completely run down, no energy to be sociable and a most annoying little cough. This is the point where if I was listening to a family member or friend I'd be advising them to get to the doctor for a check up and I have actually told myself that this is what I should do. Unfortunately I'm very good at handing out advice but not very good at taking it when it applies to myself. I know that at New Year my blood count was a little low as the blood people tested me before I donated and wouldn't let me, so like a good girl I started taking a supplement but all it did was induce migraines. Blimey, I sound like a real hypo! 

Anyway, somebody told me a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, never really understood that, I would have thought it's more dangerous if you have no knowledge? Back to my cough, I have been told that it's one of the early warning signs of a rather nasty disease, bonkers aren't I? I guess that's the dangerous, little bit of knowledge my friends have warned me about.... So, I'll probably just keep plodding on til one of two things happen, I get better or I die, either way, sorry if I make you miserable in my misery but haven't got the energy to be jolly 24/7 as you can see I'm far too busy doing all those other things!

Cynicism

I was beginning to get a little worried that maybe I'm turning in to an old cynic, I guess that implies I was once a young cynic, mmm, maybe I was. However, after yet another non surprise when it comes to businesses I've been dealing with, I felt it only right to share my little story with you.

For those of you that have read my earlier blogs, pre-hibernation, you may recall a company I was having some problems with that kept paying money in to my bank account that was not rightfully mine. Of course, as I am a fine, honest, member of the public and married to Mr Grumpy, I notified them of this error, not once, nor twice but three times. Of course they promised that the issue had been rectified and would not happen again, they even put it in writing, telling me so.... liars. So I decided to ring their so called customer services and demanded that they called me back, I was fed up of being put on hold when it wasn't a local call charge, to which the very unhelpful person on the other end told me, "sorry, we're a call centre for people to call in to, we can't call you back" I explained that if they wanted their money they'd better call back, they did.

After more empty promises a lovely young lady called Laura said she's post me a pre-paid envelope so that I could post the money back to them and upon receipt my details would be removed from their system. I did as requested and when Mr Grumpy asked if I'd like the letter from Laura shredding, Little Miss Cynic here thought that maybe we should hang on to it, just in case.

Guess what? Yesterday an unexpected amount of money turned up in my account, quelle surprise! (That's French, knew that O level would come in handy one day) Again I called Laura, she was shocked, surprised and struggled to explain it, really Laura? Let me help, you're a bunch of imbeciles. Of course I remained calm and polite but left her in no doubt as to the fact that if they pay any more money into my bank, I won't bother calling them and I shall spend the bloody lot, then it'll be them ringing me and I just might keep them on hold for half an hour, hell, I might even insist that they can only have the cash back if they collect it in person or if I can pay it back a penny at a time. Think that might get their attention? let's just wait til next month and see.

I'll save the garage story, I'm not sure you can handle more cynicism today!

Subtle

I was having a little moment earlier and was considering if I should be subtle. OK, stop laughing, I can see you now.... Anyway, subtlety, is it really me? No, not at all. I find it annoying and misleading, let's just tell it like it is and stop pussy footing around. The trouble then is that there are some folk out there that have feelings and apparently we're not supposed to hurt them, we must show compassion, kindness and consideration. What a load of crap.

It's the age old thing, "Does this dress make me look fat?" Of course all men out there that may be reading this are thinking, must say no, must say no and the chances are that any woman asking that question knows she isn't fat, she's just digging for compliments. Well lady, stop it right now, look in the mirror and if you don't like it, change the bloody dress but stop dragging other people in to your sad world of neediness. 

Now with the ever increasing social networking sites, people seem to think it's ok to say what they want, appear mean, ask questions that are of no concern to them and generally involve themselves in things they shouldn't. I know that the whole point of Facebook, MySpace etc, is just a form of spying but why not use it for good?

I'm not going down the whole cyber bullying path, that's too heavy for me tonight, but I will say to some people out there, watch out, my initial comments will be subtle but believe me it won't last! 

Misery

Well, Monday has come around once again and is now almost at an end. People seem to dread this day, I'm guessing the people that don't work weekends, but is it really any different to all of the other days of the week in it's ability to make us miserable?

I love my weekends, though to call the weekend "mine" isn't strictly true. I tend to be a general taxi service for Master Grumpy and his sporting fixtures, chief cook, clothes washer and ironing expert for all the household and sometimes dog sitter for my brother. Regarding the dog sitting, I actually get the better end of the deal, as my brother has to have Master Grumpy at the football match for 2 hours!

So, my weekends are rather hectic and as my body clock is so finely tuned for the other five days of the week, I usually find myself wide awake at 6.30am on a Saturday and Sunday morning too. Somehow though I find myself  up and about and throwing myself in to the day, so for me it's actually no different to any other day. Why then, when I arrive at work on Monday morning am I met by a sea of miserable faces? Come to think of it, why am I met by miserable faces on all of the other days of the week too? Let me add at this point that I'm talking about the staff!

I walked in to the office, smiling and offered a cheery hello to my colleagues only to be met with misery, gloom and doubts surrounding my sanity or sobriety.... Why oh why are these people working in these jobs if they're truly that miserable? I know work isn't easy to come by, but I can honestly say that if I was that miserable I'd be busy looking for something else.

Well, I love my job and yes, do occasionally have the odd bad lesson, but on the whole I am very happy in my work and so will continue to turn up to school with a smile and a happy disposition, if for no other reason than to annoy the miserable gits I work with!

Age

I won't be obvious and talk about mothers day, although part of my inspiration has come from one of the presents my lovely boys have given me this morning. The curious case of Benjamin Button. I have never seen the film, though I obviously know what it's about, I just wasn't lucky enough to see it at the cinema. 

As you are aware, I work in a secondary school and on a daily basis am surrounded by young people desperate to be older. They try to act older, which usually only makes them appear much younger and more child like, they wear lots of make up thinking that this will make them appear more mature and it's not just the girls! They are obsessed with how old people are, I am asked at least once a week, usually by female students, "How old are you miss?" To which I will nearly always reply, "72" They laugh and say that of course I'm not that old, if I was that old I wouldn't be working, 72 to them is the verge of death. 

So then the ping pong begins, I have no intention of telling them my true age, not because I'm ashamed to admit it, but because I love to hear how old they think I am. I think the youngest age I've been guessed at so far is 28.... not bad eh? Still, the student in question, although 15, didn't realise that the word "there" begins with a letter T and not V. The oldest and closest was 38, still quite flattering though, but of course I'm not naive enough to think that they really know or care how old I am, they're just trying to get a feel for what life might be like for them when they're as old and wrinkly as me.

As for me, well I like to think I am a little like Benjamin Button in a reversed kind of way. I know I am getting older, physically, I can see it in the mirror, but mentally I'm heading backwards. Maybe it's working with young people that does it, maybe it's my boys that keep me young, whatever it is I'm not complaining. I feel about 18 in my head and am happier with my life and the skin I've grown in to than I've ever felt before.

As I mentioned somewhere else recently, I have a new favourite quote regarding my life and my appearance;

Your body is not a temple, it's a funground, now go and enjoy it! 

I'm back

So it appears I fell asleep, a bit like sleeping beauty but without the good looks. I knew I should never have picked up that needle, after all, isn't that the very reason wunda web was invented?

It's the most beautiful, sunny, Saturday morning and as someone who thinks that they may suffer with SAD, I feel I have finally come out of my hibernation. I hate the Winter, I hate snow, I hate being cold and I really hate the rain. The only good thing about any of the above is that at some point you know they'll end and Spring will be sprung.

I never used to believe in things like SAD, but then I didn't believe in ADD, ADHD and had never even heard of ODD.... then along came Master Grumpy and also my job. I really was an old cynic, maybe I still am about certain things, anyway, I'm not going to harp on about all of that on this gorgeous morning, but I am going to be happy and positive and try and muster the energy for all that the day ahead holds for me.

Not a very interesting or even lengthy blog, but just wanted to say..... I'm back!!!