Saturday, 31 May 2008
I just Don't Believe IT!!
Today I received an offer to enter a competition, the winner will receive a Luxury trip to Paris, Wow!
Runners up will receive a pair of Eurostar Tickets.
The competition simply requires me to sign up to a 'Green' Club that wishes to promote healthier living and greener living, such as more composting, less emissions etc. "There are a wide range of things, from simple to life changing, that you can do to reduce your impact on the environment."
Oh, but hang on, am I missing something or is travelling abroad not contributing at all to our eco-problems?
Last week I saw a man win £100,000!! Wow!
It was a fantastic prize and although I didn't see the whole programme, the final task, to clinch the dosh, was to drop a pea (yes, a pea) into a wine bottle??##!!!
What's going on?
In a local paper is the story "Flying Mattress brings city to halt".
Now, this really happened!!
A mattress 'fell off the back of a vehicle', and became wedged under a Fiat Punto. "Two ambulance crews were called to the scene where the mattress was eventually freed from the car tyres"
In case you're wondering, it's doing very well, it'll obviously take some time to recover but should spring back fairly quickly.
What is going on?
Then there's the farmer's wife on TV saying that her Bull is the biggest 'cow' in the world.....How can a Bull be a cow?? Cows are girls, even I know that, and that lady is a proper farmers' wife, indeed she's probably a farmer...pfft!!
Darling Husband has just collapsed in hysterics..."listen to this!"
Apparently a man has arrested in Australia because he was driving with two cases of beer on the front seat, firmly kept in place by a seat belt, and his Toddler in the back seat, wearing no seat belt whatsoever!
He obviously didn't give xxxx!!
And why is it?? Hmm, say! It's good question, one I just heard on the radio.
Why, when you open a can of Evaporated Milk, is it still full?? Surely Trading Standards would have something to say about this?
I've said it before and I'll say it again...will someone please take me back to my room?
Sunday, 25 May 2008
We have had a number of special visitors to the farm recently. It means we all get together and of course do what we do best....eat.
It’s a bit like a very amiable mafia meeting, the family I have married into is definitely a clan not infiltrated easily.
There are seven offspring and their partners and children.
I already knew some of the clan before Darling Husband and I started going out but I still had many surprises when first meeting with them on their own territory and long after moving here too.
The 'family' have developed their own language of sorts and have such a great sense of humour. But more importantly there is an impressive talent they have perfected, to be able to judge the volume of your voice so perfectly that only your mother cannot hear your comments at the table, and they’ve certainly managed it, not only that, but knowing how their good-natured, God fearing Mother would be horrified if she heard half the funny things they said, they are able to maintain straight faces throughout almost anything. A number of times I’ve almost choked on my meal, my Mother-in- Law looking at me disapprovingly because whatever I’ve found funny is obviously abhorrent to everyone else.
The first time I went to ‘the house’ for dinner is an occasion never to be forgotten. The farmhouse kitchen was full of wonderful food smells and cheerful chatter. It's a very traditional farmhouse kitchen with meat hooks in the ceiling and there's a long wooden bench on one side of the table with huge gouges in it. It's called a pig bench and yes, years ago, is was what the pigs were chopped up, on.
On one side of the kitchen is a sofa, there’s a big rectangular table in the middle, a round table in the corner and there were two Rayburn cookers, one was in use but very old and one was waiting to be installed but in the meantime was there with a television on the top.
The television was on showing a programme about Gypsy life. We all sat down and mother started slicing bread and flicking down the table with the knife. The bread was expertly caught and although I was a bit surprised, no-one else raised an eyebrow, so this was obviously how it was done in this house, probably the quickest way to serve it up when you have seven children and excellent for eye-hand co-ordination, of course. We started eating and one of the sisters motioned towards the TV, a Gypsy man was washing his dogs. (Farm dogs are not the cleanest canines)
I’d probably better mention at this point that Darling Husband, his brothers and also some of their friends call each other 'Dick' ( no idea why).
“That’s the way to wash your dogs, Dave” said the sister.
“That’s the way to wash your dogs Dick” muttered Darling Husband, just loud enough for everyone, except his mother to hear.
The spare Rayburn has gone now and so we no longer have the pleasure of TV in the kitchen.