Sunday, 29 January 2012

Horses for Courses

Sob!  Saw War Horse the other night.  I knew I shouldn't have.  I knew I'd get emotional and upset!  Bloody Pick & Mix coming to £3.10! 

Anyway now I want a horse.  But its got to be brown with white markings, like Joey in the film.  Won't tell Husband, be a nice surprise for him, how he'll laugh! 

But where does one get one?  I got the cat from the Pet Shop, and my fish from a garden centre.  Do they sell these creatures too?  I never saw any. 

Is there a Horses-r-Us anywhere?  Or does one go to one of those cute little farms?  I'm sure they're quite easy to keep.  I've got an old blanket he or she can put on.  And don't they eat sugar lumps?  Like Dougal in the Magic Roundabout?  And I'm sure a friendly blacksmith will do their shoes. 

If anyone's got a horse they don't want anymore, let me know.

Me and Husband went out on Saturday night.  Just us being out together is a rare event.  Let alone this hallowed time exclusively  for babysitting, and the occasional step-family supper. 

We went to our local comedy club.  It has a very good reputation, and, allegedly really good stand-ups there. 

Well, what a load of old shit!  Standing outside in the freezing and boisterous queue, despite having booked our tickets, I realised I was too old for this caper.  And just one look at Husband's face told me he felt the same way. 

It was when I told the nice bloke with the clipboard that he'd ruin his eyes, squinting at names on there under the streetlight, that I should have come home to my cardigan and rocking chair!

We eventually get in there.  Loud music, like you wouldn't believe.  And could I get to the seated smoking area outside?  Could I shite!  There was, like, loads of people there and everything.  All drinking and talking shit! 

Is this what people do then on a saturday?  Worse, did I  used
to do this on a Saturday?  I think I did.  And most of the time, I waited for it to be over.

The first comedian bored me to tears, the second one a little better.  Then the third, an Iranian woman whose name escapes me, who has been on Mock the Week and that, was miserable and dire.  Husband, who had been a big fan of her's, was most disappointed.  I guess sometimes they go flat.  Some more than others! 

We legged it after that.  Never again!  Next Saturday it's Borgen on BBC4, or even better, Babysitting!

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Racing Grannies

What the hell's going on here?  Haven't been able to get into my account for days! 

Belated Happy New Year to all my online pals. 

Mum out of hospital now, and zooming around on a zimmerframe akin to Billy Whizz.  AND not smoking!  Though the Doctor warning her that another cigarette would kill her might have something to do with it!

There are two schools of thought on this.  One is to heed this white-coated young man's advice, the other is to think I'm 82, and bollocks to it.  Beside, my old mate died recently of two tumours, never having smoked or drank in her life. 

But I don't think my mum can face that dreadful hospital again.  Neither could I actually. 

Me and Daughter went to visit her the other day.  She fell in the hallway.  It was her own fault, she's trying to do too much, and luckily it was on thick carpet.  One second later, my daughter fell too, tripping over the kitchen mat.  That was it for me, I pissed myself laughing!  So much so, that I fell back too.  Don't think I'll have much of a career as a carer really. 

The ultimate lesson of course, is that you can never take anything for granted.  Things, as in my case, can change overnight. 

Been listing my jewellery in a little posh book, and writing down who I want it left to, ie the kids.  Is that morbid, do you think?