Feelgood Monday - What Better Way To Start The Week... #3

Got myself in a grumpy hole lately but this took me right out of it!

Hope it puts a smile on your face too!

There are no flies on our children!

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales.

The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.
The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.
Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.
The little girl said, 'When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah'.
The teacher asked, 'What if Jonah went to hell?'
The little girl replied, 'Then you ask him'

A Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work.
As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was.
The girl replied, 'I'm drawing God.' 
The teacher paused and said, 'But no one knows what God looks like.'
Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, 'They will in a minute.'
 

A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds.
After explaining the commandment to 'honour' thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, 'Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?'
From the back,  one little boy (the oldest of a family) answered, 'Thou shall not kill.'

One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. She suddenly noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head.
She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, 'Why are some of your hairs white, Mum?'
Her mother replied, 'Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white.'
The little girl thought about this revelation for a while and then said, 'Mummy, how come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?'

  

Dear PR, I would just like to say...

I don't talk much about my job. Mostly I try not to as I like to keep things separate but today I just have to. Today it really dawned on me why I hate bad PRs.
Actually she may be a good PR who got something wrong but I'd be giving her a HUGE benefit of the doubt. And I just don't feel like it.
Well anyway, I have a job where I write a lot fairly dry things but it pays and I am not complaining. It's business to business stuff.
Every year I help collate a directory. The information in the directopry is comprehensive adn detailed. It is editorially led and as such no one can buy their way in. Over the years it has become a bit of an industry bible. And since I was the one to nurture it back in the days when I worked full time, I still think of the directoy as my baby. In fact I was working on it until 1 o'clock in the morning a mere five hours before I was due to be  in hospital to give birth to Bog Boy. I take it that seriously.
Anyway, last year there was a cock-up with one of the contributors, so this year I decided to not let anything go amiss and I would do the directory by the book.
As is polite and to avoid misunderstandings I very sweetly decided to go through a PR for one particular company. I was assured that everything would be perfectly alright.
Well of course it is not.
The PR's excuse for no one getting back to me and for not chasing it up was that the people who work at the company don't get back to her very often and she cannot make them.
Hellooooo!!!!!!!
That is what PRs are for to make the client get back to the press.
Seemples
I know it isn't quite that cut and dried. I know because in a dim and distant past I too was a PR.
I know how painful clients are.
BUT...
BUT because this PR has failed to do her job properly, I am going to have to work all through half term, cut short the boy's vist to their grandparents and basically ruin the whole week for them. I will have to reorganise my schedule that of the people who were going to look after the house and so the ripples spread.
Such a pity the PR will never read this...

City Men – Country wives - why don't you get home when you're supposed to?

Your wife shouldn’t be in charge of a fire

Your wife should certainly not drive

She’s merrily rolling on two glasses

She’s been abstinent all week

But you’ve just phone d up at 6

You should be on your way home

But you’ve lost track of time

You’re still stuck at work

She says why bother

If you cannot come home early

After a whole week away

What’s the point of the agreement?

You might as well stay in London

If that is all we matter

To you

This was meant to be a solution

A compromise for the best

But it’s as if we don’t exist

And frankly

I will not accept it

You stay with a friend in London

Have meals on demand and a social life

Your wife scrimps and saves

And for what

To be told you’ve got carried away at work

Well that’s just not good enough

She’s been alone all week

No grown-ups to talk to

No let up

Just so that you can earn some money

Well honey

It ain't going to work

If you want her to be faithful and loving

You’ve got to pull something out of a hat

The chances of you seeing this are nothing

So don’t be surprised when you come home and there’s nothing for you but darkness…

This has been written after ¾ a bottle of champagne and a spritzer... I have got to get my kicks somewhere…

A day of rest

Today is a day of rest.

To do nothing.

And by doing nothing I am exhausted. But I’m not fighting it, I am embracing it.

I’ve lain on my bed with the dogs in a sophorific heap.

Read my book.

Had a deep, hot languorous bath.

I’ve sat and just stared out the window.

I’m warm and comfortable.

It’s a quiet day.

I’ve ignored the telephone and stopped the clocks.

It’s a little piece of heaven before I have to come back to reality with a bump.

Take a day out sometime.

Slow down.

Do nothing.

And don’t feel guilty about it!

Guests like fish go off after three days....

I was caught today muttering at the window and doing a little jig. I was watching my guests drive away and urging them on, while smiling and waving goodbye.
Off you go now.
Bye Bye!
Auf weidersein!
Au revoir!
That's it keep driving, keep on going...yes that's it right out of the gate...
Bugger off now...
Bye Bye!
Bye Bye now...
Bye!
My face ached from smiling so much, that drawn rictus smile as I waved until they were out of sight.
I did think about chasing them down the drive and watching them disappear down the road just to make sure they had really gone but thought that that might be going a little too far.
I mean they might decide to come back thinking that I could not bear to be parted from them.

Some guests are just needy and others are a breeze.
Some make you wonder why you ever invited them in the first place and others you wonder why you don't invite more often.
After four daya nd four nights these guests have left me drained emotionally and physically and I will now need to lay on my bed for at least a week to recover my equilibrium.
As my grandfather used to say: "Guests like fish go off after three days..."

Parental control - a saluatory tale...

Sometimes its something they say to show off that makes you realise that it's the end of innocence as you know it.

That’s what it seemed to me last week when my eldest said he had seen sex on the computer. It took me a few  seconds to cotton on to what he was saying.

And it shocked me to the core.

My son had obviously seen porn.

On the computer.

He’s only eight years old!

My next reaction, while trying very hard to keep the concern out of my voice so as not to frighten him into silence, was to ascertain where he had found it, why he had found it and what I could do about it.

I tried to concentrate but my mind was working overtime. How had he got on my computer? He couldn’t have done this at home I am always so careful.

But there had been that time when I left him doing Mathletics and he’d gone off to find Moshi Monsters all on his own…was it then?

Good grief was it at school?!

Surely they have people to make sure this kind of thing never happens, surely they must have computer controls?!

Me, trying to sound as if this sort of thing didn’t matter: “Really?”

Him: “Yeah me and a friend typed in S.E.X. and saw a woman and man doing it…”

Me: “What did you think?”

Him, goes red and sniggers: “It was really silly…”

Oh thank god for that.

Me: “So when did you do this? At School?”

Him: “No it was when I went on a playdate…”

Oh thank god for that too at least it’s not on my watch...no this is bad how can I trust him to go on playdates again? This is awful! What sort of parent allows their kids to go on a computer unsupervised…Oh, yes … me. I did.

It’s terrifying how easy it is for children to view porn on computers. You think they are too young and couldn’t possibly be interested. But you forget they are growing up and are curious and want to know more even if it starts out just as a giggle.And the first place they are going to go to find out more is to the internet...

You may keep your computer under lock and key but phones nowadays have access to the web, your kids will have play dates and sleep overs. You cannot monitor them night and day.

Needless to say I told my boy that I never wanted him to do anything like that again and said he was never to go on my computer unless I was with him always and that in the future all computers would be kept downstairs. I also told him he’d not be able to have an iPhone until he was at least 16...in fact I went way over the top.

At least that is what my husband said.

I doubt my boy will ever be as forthcoming again.

My only excuse was that I was shocked and scared and felt that I had failed as a mother, a responsible parent.

My boy he knew it was a naughty thing to do when he and his mate typed in the word in the first place otherwise they wouldn't have waited until they were on their own Problem is he doesn't quite get why yet, he doesn't understand about adult behaviour and why that sort of thing is really bad and it is not something I am going to discuss with him for a while yet.

What I have done is sort out parental computer control and upped my security so that inappropriate websites cannot be accessed from home. I cannot be everywhere I cannot stop it from happening eventually but at least in my home I have done everything I can.

Here's a site I found very helpful, I hope you do too

https://www.thinkuknow.co.uk/parents/Primary/Tools/Parental-controls/

The Most Evil Dog On The Planet Strikes Again And I Have A Moral Dilemma…

Most Evil Dog On The Planet enjoying herself in the long grass

I love her.

I do.

I really, really love her.

BUT.

But sometimes she’s just evil.

She’s horrid. She more than lives up to her sobriquet EBJ (Evil Black Job) aka the wickedest whippet in the world. Sometimes she is SO bad she’s the most evil dog on the plant.

Today she was the most evil dog on the planet and I have a problem.

Both she and I had been out running and being that is was cold and I was very tired after my exercise I decided to have a very long, very hot bath.

Sheer bliss.

I trotted downstairs afterwards to have a glass of water and to ready myself for the rest of the day. Work and the like.

I drank my water.

And then I noticed a lovely smell.

Chicken stew.

But it seemed out of place. I hadn’t been cooking any so why could I smell it?

And it dawned on me as I turned to look at the stove that I normally put the lids of the pans on properly, the right way up, not upside-down as this pan lid was.

I approached the pan and noticed a tell-tale blob of chicken jelly on the top of the oven.

I am NOT a messy cook. I DON’T leave blobs of stew on oven hobs.

Somebody…

Somebody had left it there and it couldn’t have been the boys.

I glanced around the kitchen it was strangely devoid of canine inhabitants.

I eased the lid off the stew. The stew that my Darling Husband had spent hours on Sunday, cooking.

Hours and hours slaving away

The one that I was supposed to have carefully put in containers and frozen on Sunday night. The one, which I had every intention of giving my In-Laws on Friday night when they came to stay for the weekend.

I peered inside the pan. There was still stew.

But it had gone down somewhat. There wasn’t as much stock in there as there had been the night before.

Although I cannot say for certain it was her because as usual there is a lack of evidence and I cannot afford a full forensics, my gut tells me it was, that and the fact she is studiously refusing to look me in the eye.

But now I have a problem. Knowing what I know, do I go ahead and put the stew in the container and freeze it and serve it up to my In-Laws on Friday or do I throw the lot away?

And what do I say to my husband who is expecting to see said stew on Friday for supper if I do throw it away? Should I ‘fess up or should I just keep quiet? Or should I just blame the dog?

Feel Good Monday - What better way to start the Week #2

I have friends who send me very silly things that make me laugh and on a Monday all I can say is: "What better way to start the week...than with a laugh?!"

Have a good one!

Reported in the Massachusetts Bar Association Lawyers Journal, the following are questions actually asked of witnesses by attorneys during trials and, in certain cases, the responses given by insightful witnesses:

"Now doctor, isn't it true, that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?"

"The youngest son, the twenty-year old, how old is he?"

"Were you present when your picture was taken?"

"Were you alone or by yourself?"

"Was it you or your younger brother who was killed in the war?"

"How far apart were the vehicles at the time of the collision?"

"You were there until the time you left, is that true?"

"How many times have you committed suicide?"

Q: "So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?"

A: "Yes."

Q: "And what were you doing at that time?"

Q: "She had three children, right?"

A: "Yes."

Q: "How many were boys?"

A: "None."

Q: "Were there any girls?"

Q: "You say the stairs went down to the basement?"

A: "Yes."

Q: "And these stairs, did they go up also?"

Q: "Mr. Slatery, you went on a rather elaborate honeymoon, didn't you?

A: "I went to Europe, sir."

Q: "And you took your new wife?"

Q: "How was your first marriage terminated?"

A: "By death."

Q: "And by whose death was it terminated?"

Q: "Can you describe the individual?"

A: "He was about medium height and had a beard."

Q: "Was this a male or female?"

Q: "Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?"

A: "No, this is how I dress when I go to work."

Q: "Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed on dead people?"

A: "All my autopsies are performed on dead people."

Q: "All your responses must be oral, OK? What school did you go to?"

A: "Oral."

Q: "Do you recall the time that you examined the body?"

A: "The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m."

Q: "And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?"

A: "No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy."

Q: "You were not shot in the fracas?"

A: "No, I was shot midway between the fracas and the navel."

Q: "Are you qualified to give a urine sample?"

A: "I have been since early childhood."

Q: "Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?"

A: "No."

Q: "Did you check for blood pressure?"

A: "No."

Q: "Did you check for breathing?"

A: "No."

Q: "So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?"

A: "No."

Q: "How can you be so sure, doctor?"

A: "Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar."

Q: "But could the patient have still been alive nevertheless?"

A: "It is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere."

Q: What is your date of birth?

A: July 15th.

Q: What year?

A: Every year.

Q: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?

A: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

Q: How old is your son, the one living with you.

A: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which.

Q: How long has he lived with you?

A: Forty-five years.

Q: What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke that morning?

A: He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"

Q: And why did that upset you?

A: My name is Susan.

Q: Where was the location of the accident?

A: Approximately milepost 499.

Q: And where is milepost 499?

A: Probably between milepost 498 and 500.

Q: Sir, what is your IQ?

A: Well, I can see pretty well, I think.

Q: Did you blow your horn or anything?

A: After the accident?

Q: Before the accident.

A: Sure, I played for ten years. I even went to school for it.

Q: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in the voodoo or occult?

A: We both do

Q: Voodoo?

A: We do.

Q: You do?

A: Yes, voodoo.