Shout Out for The Bloggess

If you came here expecting to be entertained then go here.

Recipe of the Day 2

Lazy Bitch's Oatmeal Cookies

Before I begin I would just like to point out that it has been well over a year since

my last recipe . But Lazy Bitch is as Lazy Bitch does, which isn't much.

INGREDIENTS

1 cup butter, softened (I‘m not in a softening mood. There’s a bottle of olive oil right next to my elbow, I’ll chuck some of that in.)

1 cup white sugar (which cup? Sod it a mound is more my style.)


1 cup packed brown sugar (oops! not got any. Oh well treacle’s brown… just thank your lucky stars that’s the first thing that came to mind.)

2 eggs ( ok )

1 teaspoon vanilla extract ( extract this)

2 cups all-purpose flour ( damn cups again! So, a bigger mound)

1 teaspoon baking soda ( yup, use by 2007! Surely this doesn’t go off, does it?)

1 teaspoon salt (that’s a small mound in the middle of my hand)

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon (Oh my God! well too late now, so how much fell out of the jar?)

3 cups quick cooking oats (The kids are going to eat this Alpen if it’s the last thing they do!)

raisins or nuts - optional. (That’s handy I wasn’t planning to pick them out of the cereal )

Right now it’s all in the bowl let’s mix it up.

DIRECTIONS
1. In a medium bowl, cream together white sugar, butter, and brown sugar. Beat in eggs one at a time, and then stir in vanilla.
2. Combine flour, cinnamon, baking soda and salt. Stir into the creamed mixture. Mix in oats. If you are using nuts or raisins, mix into dough, combining well .
(OOPS!! Too late now, what’s done is done… I wonder if it’s supposed to look like a giant chicken’s bowel movement.)

Cover, and chill dough for at least one hour. (How am I going to fit it in the fridge? Let’s check some sell by dates…. Ham 4th Jan…that can go. Ouch! Was that a brick that just fell on my head? No, it was forgotten bread rolls… a bit beyond toasting, Breadcrumbs? Sod it. This margarine tub’s nearly empty; I can grease the baking tray with what’s left. There, now I can fit the cookie gloop in the fridge).

3. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F, Grease cookie sheets. Roll the dough into balls, and place 2 inches apart on cookie sheets. ( BALLS! Aren’t cookies like biscuits? Shouldn’t they be flat? And what’s this two inch shit?)

4. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in preheated oven. Allow cookies to cool on baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.
( 10 mins isn’t long enough, my finger went right through that one)

Makes approx. 36-60 cookies, depending on how large or small you make them.
( 20 if you follow my recipe and make balls the size of, well “balls” .which means they won’t all be the same size. )

They taste really good, I’m quite surprised.

Now we just have to wait and see if I‘ve poisoned anyone).

Original recipe

The Best Laid Plans...

Diet Plan - day one

Breakfast - Glass of skimmed milk and 2 melba toast.
Yuk!
I’ll substitute coffee for the milk, coffee isn’t that fattening and…
… well melba toast is dry so I’ll have a couple of cigarettes.
So coffee and cigarettes, same as usual.


Snack 1 – 2 pieces of fruit.
Who the hell’s got time to snack? By the time I’ve gotten the house straight it will be lunchtime anyway!

Lunch – 1 chicken breast without the skin, I slice of bread, salad,.
Damn it! no chicken and the kids want hamburgers.
Substitute - hamburger in a sesame bun, ketchup,
it’s made of tomatoes
and I’ll have a pickle too
because that is cucumber, nearly .


Snack 2 - a piece of fruit.
Give me a break I’m working here! Like this kid is going to understand my explanation of passive voice if it’s muffled by banana.


Evening meal. – Lentil soup, salad, 1 slice of bread.
YUK!!
Just a minute, lentils are similar to beans, cocoa is made out of beans…mmm
Substitute, Hot chocolate and toast, yummy.


Note. DRINK PLENTY OF WATER.
I always drink plenty of water so that’s alright then.

I think that went quite well.
I’ll just peek at tomorrow’s menu before going to sleep…

… Breakfast, same as today.
Ok coffee and cigs is fine by me


Snack – A glass of fruit juice.
Good I think I can manage that.


Lunch, Poached fish and boiled greens...

...Yeah, Right!!

.

Fun With Food

What’s on the Menu Tonight?

It can be very confusing choosing a meal in a restaurant these days so here are a few tips to help the uninitiated to work out what is, or rather what isn’t, on offer. If you prefer eating at home you might find my previous post on cooking useful.

http://litcor.blogspot.com/2007/03/cooking-instructions-explained.html




Cockie-Leekie - is not made from post coital penises


Wontons - are not heavy


Vol.-au-vent – is not an Italian smart car, yet!

It is however the name of a film about a deaf and dumb guy
who lives with a chicken , Go figure!



Soufflé – is not much help if you want to hide your bald patch.


Vinaigrette – Has nothing to do with wishing you hadn’t drunk so much wine.


Mortadella - Only smells like something that died,


Gazpacho - has nothing to do with military police.


Tagliatelle & Fettucine – have nothing to do with kinky sex.

Unless you know differently...?


Cannelloni – is not a solo dance form


Tzatziki – is unpronouncable unless you’ve been practicing from birth.




Anyone looking for useful information can click on the links.

If you would like to add your own helpful hints, you know where to leave your comments.

Pillow Talk

.

Your early spasm

.
Robbed me of my orgasm

.
You premature prick

!

Until Death Do We Party

Despite the fact that I have lived in Greece for 14 years I only recently had the opportunity to attend a traditional engagement party: Apparently they have been out of fashion and are now making a comeback.

The lucky bride to be was one of my husband’s myriad cousins.. My husband has more relatives than a stray dog has fleas! No stone had been left unturned in the search for second cousins three times removed and looking round I had to commend them for the thoroughness of their search: One or two of the older guests looked like may have been dug up just so that they didn’t miss out. As a result it was quite a big celebration and an entire restaurant had been booked for the occasion

I was a little dismayed to be seated at a table with a couple of these death defying ancients and it was therefore something of a relief when we were joined by an accountant and his wife. Wine was served and not wanting to drink on an empty stomach I took an almond cake from a plate in the middle of the table and commenced nibbling and sipping while things got underway.

The happy couple got up to dance drawing my attention to the area which had been cleared for this purpose. It was festooned with pink and white balloons which clashed unhappily with the orange and green décor of the venue. The balloons formed an arch over what appeared to be a premature wedding cake, but what do I know?

The couple were joined by a priest who sang something unintelligible which was greeted by a round of applause as the groom placed a ring on his intended’s finger. Meanwhile waiters served all the guests with a glass of opaque white liquid which tasted of almonds

It was time to present our gifts, always jewelry on these occasions, so each guest went up in turn and fastened their offerings on the appropriate part of the couple’s anatomy. Seeing the plethora of crosses, rings and bracelets appearing I started to have doubts about the gold, diamond studded padlock I had chosen but reasoned that it was only fair that somebody should warn them...

My misgivings evaporated however when I returned to our table and was greeted by a curt nod from the ancient aunt accompanied by the comment “A good wife should always obey her husband”. My husband nodded in apparent agreement and took a sip of his almond cordial while I gave some thought to other things that taste like almonds and the waiters obligingly presented us with dishes of the damned things, sugared!

Just as I was beginning to wonder if it was a marzipan flavor theme party the waiters reappeared with salad, chips and tzatziki. This is a sure sign that real food is on its way and I perked up a bit. “Real food” arrived in the form of something that looked like a doughnut but tasted of cheese and some little pies….

…cheese pies! I suspected that definite pattern was taking shape; my suspicions were soon confirmed by the arrival of a platter of mixed cheeses.

Ancient uncle Apostolidias was turning out to be quite entertaining, in distinct contrast to his self righteous and obedient” wife who kept up a steady stream of complaints about everything from the heat outside, the air conditioning inside and the strong smell of cheese.

Apostolidias had joined me in battling the cheesy odors and his wife’s whinging by burying his nose in a wineglass. He was also attacking every plate of food with the gusto of one who knows that his future meals are numbered.

The next dishes to arrive were spit roasted pork and pork sausages. No surprises there then. I nibbled here and there wondering if there was any more pork in the offing and marveling at the capacity of Apostolidias’ stomach as he tucked in and ignored his wife’s mutterings about cholesterol, salt and high blood pressure, he was a man on a mission and didn’t so much as pause for breath when presented with a pork chop.

The waiters were having a hard time finding space on the table and their juggling was fair entertainment in the circumstances. Most of the guests were so full that they couldn’t even look at the chops let alone eat them. The wine on the other hand was disappearing faster than water in an African drought.

At this point the newly engaged couple got up to make a champagne toast and cut the cake which was then deftly removed so that they could dance again. Before long some jolly “let’s all join in” types started bustling round the room dragging reluctant, overfed guests from their seats before herding them onto the dance floor. Even my husband who has two left legs didn’t escape their enthusiasm.

When we returned to our table we found that the waiters had taken advantage of our absence to serve the cake. Completely undaunted by the lack of space they had balanced plates of cake on top of our uneaten chops. Barely able to see each other over the mounds of uneaten food most of the guests, myself included, returned to the dance floor where the effect of the steady stream of wine meant that hair was let down and shoes were kicked off and everybody, including the grumpy aunt but excluding my “I don’t dance, you can’t make me “husband, got down to getting down in a way that only the Greeks can.

As I sashayed past uncle Apostolidias making a death defying leap into the air and kicking one leg up higher than his head I made a mental note to seek him out at the next family gathering and ply him with alcohol. The resultant geriatric acrobatics were a sight to be seen and almost made the combination of almonds cheese and pork worthwhile.

SOUND BITES

M. “You just said sizzling.”

C. “Bacon.”

M “Bacon and sausages and other stuff that sizzles?”

C. “Yes.”

M. “Now you’ve made me hungry
but I haven’t got anything that sizzles
unless I burn some soup.”

-------------------------------------------

Girl 1. “Men are like nail varnish.”

Girl 2. “Nail varnish?”

Girl !. “Sure, you don’t really need it but it’s nice to have.”

Girl 2. “ You wouldn’t want to wear the same colour all the time though.”

Girl 1. “ Acetone!”

One of Those Days!

Have you ever had “one of those days”?
Some people might say it was “The Story of My Life”, I wouldn’t go that far but just lately it does seem to me that they are occurring on a monotonously regular basis.



Therefore I was less than astounded at my own absentmindedness when I recently applied a liberal amount of toothpaste onto a handy Bic razor which had somehow found its way into my grasp instead of the toothbrush which I had intended to pick up. Not to worry, my lacerated gums will soon heal and in the meantime not being able to put anything in my mouth will have a sterling effect on my diet, if not my love life. I cannot deny that these little happenstances don’t, as often as not, lead to positive outcomes. I’ve always been lucky like that.



Which leads us right into the next event in this comedy of errors, you really do need to keep your wits about you when attending to early morning ablutions unfortunately mine tend to be still asleep under the pillow and offer me no assistance whatsoever, so when I applied a handful of extra strong hold hair mousse to my face and rubbed it in before realizing that it was not moisturizing cream it was something of a bonus to realize that the almost instantaneous lifting and firming effect was much more pronounced than that promised by the manufacturers of the more expensive face product. I immediately made a mental note to buy a bigger bottle of the stuff to see if something can’t be done about my saggy buns.

I should at this point warn you that improvising whilst pursuing your beauty regime should be done with extreme caution and attention to detail. I have just recalled an incident which although it occurred two years ago still has the ability to make my eyes water when I think about it.

My husband announced, quite out of the blue, that it was a nice day for the beach and told me to get myself and the kids kitted out forthwith to take advantage of his magnanimous gesture. Easier said than done as being the beginning of the summer I had not yet done a check of what swimwear was still wearable and indeed hadn’t yet attended to other factors such as “doing my bikini line” and thereby making it possible for me to wear a bathing suit. I hastily packed a bag before dashing into the bathroom to attend to the necessary task. Thinking it would save time I grabbed my hubby’s shaving mousse and slapped a good dollop on my (!), In no time at all I was doing a very good impression of a rain dancing Indian As I grabbed the offending can to discover the reason for my screaming agony I was dismayed to read WITH ADDED MENTHOL FOR A TINGLING FRESH FEELING ! Oh me! Tingle was not the adjective that came to my mind as I feverishly grabbed the shower attachment to assuage my hurt.

I now prefer waxing; on the whole it is less painful.


I could continue but the tears in my eyes are making it difficult to see so I will end by asking if any of you have an anecdote of your own to add…..

In An Emergency.......Pray You're Not in Greece

I haven’t been around much for the last couple of days. The reason for this is that my mum in law, Elevtheria, who is in poor health contracted a tummy bug to add to her other troubles. She probably caught it from me but whereas I just felt under the weather for a couple of days Elevtheria had a temperature of 102 and barfed enough to fill several blogs for the foreseeable future.

Things got so bad that on Sunday I decided to take her to the emergency room. This is “a big story” in Greece, meaning it is a lot of bother as opposed to an untrue story, as my brother explained in his last post, "Big Stories". I was advised, by a second cousin twice removed, that in order to avoid waiting for six hours or more to get through the door we should call an ambulance. This part was easy I dialed 166 and was suitably impressed that we only had to wait half an hour for it to arrive.

I left my children in the capable and loving hands of my dear friend Tina and set off for my first ride in a Greek ambulance. I was in for another surprise it actually had a gurney in it AND sick bags! I once asked my husband if ambulance attendants here have to be qualified and he told me that if you are lucky the guy behind the steering wheel has a driving license. When we arrived at the hospital I gave the ambulance attendants a 20 dollar hand shake, you never know when you might need another ambulance and they WILL remember. This little trick got us past the other poor souls dying in the corridor and directly into the emergency examination area. Have any of you seen “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”? I think the entire cast was in that room, and that was just the doctors.

So there I was surrounded by about 30 assorted fools, drunks, madmen and almost corpses, accompanied by my rainbow shouting mum in law, in a room that was about 12 square feet in size, and a few of them were clubbed feet at that! I encouraged Elevtheria to shout a bit louder as she barfed for the umpteenth time that day and God bless her she got right into the spirit of the thing. She even managed to make more noise than the alcoholic in the corner who seemed to be suffering from a case of the DTs. I’m not sure if it was her enthusiastic chundering or my hearty congratulations that got their attention but two harassed looking interns were soon writing up a bunch of tests and giving her a shot of something or other.

On to the next hurdle, one of the interns babbled a list of instructions and directions that sounded completely Greek to me, probably because they were. I bribed a passing person in green baggy clothes (who could have been the head surgeon for all I knew) to find me a wheelchair then we set off on the next leg of our hospitalathon (it could well make it into the next Olympics the way things are going, along with snowball fights for the winter
games). Actually getting that wheel chair out into the corridor was a gargantuan task. Elevtheria, exhausted by her award winning aria and the subsequent prodding flopped gratefully into the perambulatory vehicle and left me to it. No help was at hand from the ailing allsorts so I backed towards the double swing doors apologizing to everybody as I ran over their toes and slightly encouraged by the alcoholics excellent impression of a banshee (“Oooooo eeeeee ooooo eeeeeee oooooo eeeee!!”) I lent backwards and head butted my way into the corridor. Well that was the general idea but in fact what happened was that as my head passed through the doors they swung back into place so that my head was in the corridor whilst the rest of my body along with my mother in law and the wheel chair were still inside the examination room.

I could turn my head just enough to see the interested stares of some of the walking wounded lining the corridor. They were perking up a bit, not many things provide entertainment at the ER on a Sunday afternoon and my little dilemma must have looked pretty promising to them. OK, time for my world famous human banana impression! A mini space walk managed to get my feet into a position that made it possible to put pressure on the door with my heels. The pressure on my neck started to ease as I slid my feet backwards and outwards pulling on the wheelchair as I reversed. The onlookers seemed genuinely pleased by my progress but they weren’t going to spoil the fun by offering any kind of assistance, apart from one game soul on a gurney who waved an arm in encouragement almost dislodging his IV in the process. I was about as close to doing the splits as I am ever going to get when the wheel chair decided to join the party and my own version of the evolution of dance moved into spasmodic jive mode as I fought against the momentum to avoid running myself over with my mother in laws transportation, finishing off with a little rain dance(silly not to really) and a nonchalant twirl to reposition the wheelchair I set off down the corridor towards the x-ray department aided by pieces of paper, cellotaped to the pea green walls at irregular intervals, with little arrows drawn on them in felt tip pen.

Once we had finished with x-rays, blood tests and the like we proceeded to the admissions area which had two six bed temporary wards and about 50 patients. As it turned out the bribe for the wheelchair was money well spent as Elevtheria would probably have been sat on the floor otherwise. I tripped up a passing nurse to get her attention and shoved our paperwork into her hand. I felt bad about this later when I realized that there were only 2 nurses on duty and no doctors. The doctors showed up at 9pm, 3 hours later, pronounced my mother in law fit to go and sent us home.

I cannot say that some of that time wasn’t profitably spent, for one thing once news got round that Elevtheria was unwell various cousins, uncles and their dogs joined us, two of them traveling over 100km to do so, and an impromptu family reunion took place. In addition to which I discovered the toilet facilities to be in such an abominably filthy condition that I searched out a mop and bucket and cleaned them myself figuring that 2 nurses to 50+ patients added up to no cleaners within a mile of the building Just before we left I went out to the canteen to get a bottle of drinking water and was horrified to see some poor chap propped up against the trunk of a tree with his IV resting in the branches, I can only hope that he had popped out for a cigarette.

My mum in law then spent her third night in a row “talking on the big white telephone to God” so today I went totally Greek and took her to a doctor who ” knows” us, in other words someone we have bribed on a regular basis ever since Elevtheria started her battle against cancer 12 years ago. A 50 dollar handshake later my mum in law was finally admitted to hospital and is now being cared for by people who know which side their bread is buttered.

Barf on a Blog!

When I started my blog it was a bit of an experiment to see if I could do it. The things that I posted were really just for my own benefit, to get them out of my head so to speak. I could compare it to puking on the pavement after drinking too much on a night out.
So when people started visiting to read my posts and comment on them it was a bit like having passers-by stop to examine the curbside chunder and admire the chunks. This is where things get quantum on us, observation changing the thing observed and all that.
I found myself impelled to re-arrange the diced carrots in my verbal vomit in an attempt to make them more pleasing to the eye. What is the point of this sick aside? You may well ask, and quite right to!
The point is that if I see my posts as a form of artfully arranged spew then what are memes?
Memes my friends are the equivalent of someone else throwing-up, collecting the resultant mess in a bag and passing it on to their fellow bloggers to see what they can make of it.
That said I will now proceed to re-hash Sugar Smack’s regurgitations passed to me this morning in an airline sick bag cunningly disguised as a comment on one of my posts.

Here it is: The Education Meme

What was the name of the teacher that was most influential in your life from grades K through 6?
I have barely started and I’m breaking the mold already because I am going to name 2 teachers. The first one was called Neville and I can’t remember his surname because we used to call him Neville the Notorious Noodle Nosher, I think my sister Pauline came up with the name and looking at it now I may have inadvertently stumbled upon the root cause of my fondness for alliteration (thanks Pol). The reason I remember him is because he was my first “crush” I must have been all of eight years old at the time. He played the guitar and sang to us!
My second choice is Mr. Dewhurst. He was a God among pedagogs in my view and I credit him with my appreciation of classical music, my love of nature, my enthusiasm for the written word and my interest in the arts in general. He also taught me to add up so he was pretty useful. I still think of him when I stop to listen to birdsong even though I haven’t seen him in thirty years.

What subject did you favor in high school?
Here we go again. The only subjects I didn’t like were athletics (because I sucked), cooking (because it was too easy) and sewing. I still hate sewing. The teachers were all shriveled up old bitches (up yours Miss Fowl!!) .

Did you attend a university and if so, did you attain a degree?
No and no.

Do you learn best through books, by watching, or hands-on?
When I get my hands on a book I watch the words dancing on the page.
OK, I’ll behave now. I think this depends on what is being learnt and not who is learning it.
Though I have met people who might as well be blind, illiterate double amputees judging by what they know.

Has education been an ongoing process for you?
How do you feel about that?
Learning and self improvement are ongoing processes that should continue throughout life (unless you are a blind, illiterate double amputee). Education on the other hand is a euphemism for processing human beings so that they fit neatly into boxes and become “useful” members of society. I am not well educated.

What seven people are you tagging to do this?
Now let’s see, who do I want to piss off on this fine spring morning?

Mona. She could put an extra twist in a corkscrew.
Charles. He likes putting things in boxes when he isn’t torturing cats.
Tina. She never gets angry with me.
Michael. Keep it in the family.
S. Revenge for Rufus on the wrong day.
And now for the mad bit the next and last tag is a blog that I don’t know from Adam which I found by hitting the “next blog” button until I found something that wasn’t in Italian, religious, political or pornographic. It took a while I can tell you!

Lost in Suburbia

Weather or not?

Hello, good morning and welcome.

Now for the weather forecast.

In Athens today the temperature will be in the upper seventies making it extremely unlikely that sufficient ironing, mopping or housework in general will get done. This is likely to produce a stormy outlook on the home front where angry, black clouds will inevitably gather in husbandly regions. Thunder is likely to ensue with heavy showers of sarcasm forecast for later in the day. All wives who are planning to desert their duties, in order to take advantage of blue skies and bird song, are strongly advised to be carrying an umbrella of indifference when returning to their abodes
.
The outlook for tomorrow is somewhat brighter as husbands who are working will be at a far remove and will be able to storm as much as they want without affecting the sunny disposition of the rest of the family. Sunbeams will prevail for much of the day dimming slightly in the late evening when moods will become overcast due to the return of blustery spouses.

KIDNAPPED! a true story.

As some of you may have noticed I am prone to reminiscing about my past when real time events don’t provide sufficient stimulation. It is for precisely that reason that I have chosen to share with you the true story of my kidnapping. Many moons ago when I was working on a Chandris ship called The Horizon and nick- named the horizontal. I was unfortunate enough, a few days prior to the incident in question to break two bones in my foot.

Officially I slipped in the shower but there were persistent rumors at the time that I had actually slipped in a puddle of beer during a particularly energetic Irish jig. This can’t be true as I didn’t even know anything about an illegal party in the pump room that evening.

As a result of my untimely accident I was unable to join my friends on their weekly boogie night in Puerto Rico and had resigned myself to a lonely night reading in my cabin. Little did I realize that a cunning and dastardly plan was afoot or indeed that I was to play a central role in the drama waiting to unfold.

Shortly after 10pm the security guard was called away from the gangway near my cabin to help deal with an affray in another part of the ship. Several assailants then rushed into the room where I was resting on the bed in my pyjamas. I was seized and roughly bundled out through the door by 2 or 3 of these never do wells whilst another one grabbed my crutches, apparently to make it appear that I had left under my own steam.

They hurtled along the corridor, I felt like a human torpedo, and then they clattered and clanged down the metal gangplank carrying me like a ladder in a Laurel and Hardy show. I was completely disorientated by our subsequent rush through darkened alleys dimly illuminated by the glow of ancient street lamps. I would later be unable to aid the authorities in capturing my assailants as the only thing I could see was a banana yellow sheen reflecting off one of the men’s gaudy shirts.

Eventually they slowed and I was carried through a dread portal into a dark, misty, cavernous room. Colored lights flashed psychotically in the gloom and the white mist swirled everywhere, twisting sinuously around the legs of strangers glimpsed in the sinister shadows of the interior.

My captors were on the verge of revealing the purpose of their daring escapade. I was carried to the centre of the room and dumped unceremoniously on a chair fetched for that very purpose by one of the crutch carriers. Realization dawned on me and a cold chill gripped my heart at the thought of the indignity of the ordeal that I was about to endure. Yes, they were planning to handbag me!

The other crutch carrier approached taking care not to spill any of the precious liquid contained in the glass vessel which he was carrying. “Yours is a large G n’ T, isn’t it Cathy? He asked. Without further ado the drink was placed in my unresisting hand and my co-workers proceeded to dance around me in Laser’s Disco. Just as if I was some bimbo’s bloody handbag!

When I’m Cleaning Windows

I have no idea what the elected members of a school’s Parents and Guardians Association do in other countries but here in Greece it ranges from bugger all to bugger me. As luck would have it our school’s PGA is turning out to be one where the members require not only free time and good will but also a large jar of Vaseline and a soft cushion.

Over the Easter holidays we were asked, by the headmistress, if we could possibly do something about the curtains. Fools that we are, flushed with the success of a recent fundraising event we nodded and smiled in dumb acquiescence little suspecting what was in store for us. On reflection we really can’t blame anyone but ourselves, the headmistress must have known what a bunch of pushovers we were having seen us dancing through the streets of Egaleo dressed as cups tables and, in my case, a three tier cake whilst escorting half the schools 112 children to a fancy dress parade, anyway I digress let’s get on with this story.

Before school broke up we did an inspection of the offending drapes to see what "doing something about them" would entail. At this point our amiable smiles became noticeably less pronounced because when you take a good look at curtains your eyes tend to take in other details besides the actual fabric, for example windows. The windows were filthy and, as is the wont of school windows rather large and numerous. It would appear that due to a local council cock-up the cleaners have not been paid for several months, ergo they have not been doing any cleaning beyond keeping toilets usable and floors swept.

Do any of you know of a self-respecting housewife who is capable of hanging clean curtains at dirty windows? If such women exist I am mercifully unacquainted with them. To cut a long story short we had blithely agreed to spend three days of our Easter holidays doing somebody else’s job for no money and little thanks. Last Friday my friend Tina, who is also President of the PGA, called at my house that we might go together to undertake this mammoth task .It was a fairly good litmus test of how the day was due to proceed that she then made me change my clothes THREE TIMES, apparently I wasn’t scruffy enough, eventually having finished my Mrs. Mop does windows fashion parade we collected dusters buckets and assorted children and set off on the short walk to our ultimate destination.

WHY OH WHY DIDN’T WE GAG THE CHILDREN? As we perambulated along the road our kids shouted out to every single sprog along the way and by the time we got to the school gates we looked like particularly perturbed pied pipers of suburbia. This caused another hiatus in the operation whilst we made umpteen phone calls to the mothers of children who had come along to watch the entertainment. Needless to say none of the aforementioned mothers fell over themselves to offer a helping hand, secure in the knowledge that the miraculous maids of their PGA could easily supervise thirty kids from the top of a wobbly ladder.

Ah yes, the ladder. Tell me pray, How it is possible to have a ladder on which all four legs are different lengths. One wobbly leg is not such a problem but what we had here was an implement which only a break dancing circus freak on stilts would appreciate. Tina climbed up to test it, I think she reached the third rung before deciding that she was far too afraid of heights to contemplate the fourth. By this time we had been joined by Irene who, not having had the benefit of Tina’s wardrobe advice, had turned up in an almost floor length skirt and high heeled boots. My turn on the ladder! It was not fun. Imagine a monkey disco dancing on top of a Florida palm tree in a hurricane and you just about have the right mental image for how I must have looked. I can’t say that Tina’s constant litany of “I’m holding it.” Accompanied by Irene’s “you’ve missed a bit.” did anything to improve the situation.

Getting the first set of curtains down was a lot easier, and quicker, than expected, falling off the ladder was a foregone conclusion Tarzan would have been proud of me and if swinging in the classroom isn’t already a song title it should be. I can’t tell you how touched I was by the concern of my dear friends. Irene was practically incapacitated by the humor of the situation as Tina pronounced in concerned tones, “Now we need new curtain hooks”. I need not have fretted though revenge would soon be mine. There is nothing quite so cheering, having been the unwilling star of an unanticipated stunt, as seeing somebody else get theirs. I was therefore positively gleeful when Irene decided that she would show me how things ought to be done. I have already mentioned that this lady was not really dressed for the occasion but undaunted by inappropriate attire she airily tucked her skirt into her knickers and proceeded to climb. I would not have dreamt of telling her as she ascended those unstable steps that there was a whole bevy of bewildered boys peering through the window panes following her progress.

I won’t keep you any longer, though we still had a couple of days worth of work in front of us it would be unkind of me to make you endure the entire debacle and I’m not sure that I can go through the whole episode a second time, not even on paper. Suffice it to say that we now have freshly laundered curtains, at sparkly clean windows, through which the sun is shining on the very dusty classrooms!

Discover Me Discovering You..

The first ship that I ever worked on was called “The Discovery” at the time it had the biggest floating casino in the world. This meant that the casino staff could not live on board as there were not enough cabins to accommodate them. I should probably explain at this point that it was not a normal cruise ship. The Discovery did “nowhere cruises’, it was actually a floating casino. Sometimes we would sail to the Bahamas just for the day and sometimes we just sailed out beyond the 12 mile limit so that we could open the casino without breaking The USA’s gambling laws.

We were based in Ft Lauderdale and our company provided accommodation for us by leasing an entire motel so we worked lived and played together which made us a bit like a mobile village. Everybody knew everything about everybody else.

At the time I was employed as part of a couple which was fairly common, though not married my boyfriend John, and I were recognized as a couple and sent to work together on all our contracts

John was terrified of lizards, much as some people are afraid of spiders etc and it was this fear that resulted in the rather comical though extremely embarrassing incident which is the nub of this little story.

I was taking a shower one day when I heard John literally howling in terror. Running out of the bathroom to find out what was happening I found him backed up in a corner as white as a sheet, he had seen a lizard in the room and was paralyzed with fear. Cathy to the rescue then, as lizards don’t bother me I armed myself with a paper bag and started hunting for the offending reptile. Half an hour later it was in the bag and I needed another shower.

Without a second thought I opened the door to our room and tossed the thing outside, right in the face of a coworker who happened to be speaking on the pay phone in the corridor. I don’t know what was worse really, was it the hurling a lizard at him or the fact that in all the excitement I had actually forgotten that I was completely naked. As I made a hasty apology before diving back inside I heard him say to the other party on the phone, “ I beg your pardon, do go on, Ive just been attacked by a naked woman and a lizard.” You can imagine what sort of ribbing I came in for in our little community after this but as I said once before in a previous article This is not the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me but It comes in a close second.

I saw this meme on "Groovy Lady" it looked like fun so I thought I'd have a go. Just out of curiosity I traced it back to its source and found five great blogs, including Groovy Lady. I will be creating a meme link list in the side column to go with this post

List four sentences you've never said before:...

1. It’s your turn to use the PC.
2. Let me clean your shoes.
3. Not tonight, I’ve got a headache.
4. Let’s watch football.

List any number of song titles that describe how you’ve felt this week:
1. One Silver Dollar
2. Everything Fades Away
3. Don’t Cry Sister
4. Walking on sunshine.
5. Here Comes The Rain Again

Imagine you’re having the ideal perfect day. What four things would you be doing?

1. Enjoying an outing with friends and family
2. Eating, drinking and chatting with friends.
3. Dancing the night away ‘til the wee hours
4. Spooning and forking.



Make up five creative names for a new rock band:

1. Sticky Tongue and the Honey Pots
2. Filofax and The Ringbinders
3. Brainy Bitch and The Blogland Band
4. Scuffle in the Bathroom.
5. The Satin Strings

Congratulations! You get to go back in time and ensure that three songs were never written, thus sparing humanity from ever having to hear them. What three songs would get the axe?

1. Wallflower
2. What’s a Woman Without a Man
3. Telephone Man

If anyone else does this meme, let me know. I would love to see your answers.

BLOG IT ALL!

Well I’ll Be Bogeyed!

I’ve got a new swear word and spell check doesn’t like it. Spell check can bog off and I don’t give a blob how many flogging red squiggly lines it puts under my Clogging bad language. As you can see from this little experiment you can’t trust logging spell check to deal with Bolger all.

TAKE ME AS I AM

A friend of mine was in need of some advice with regards to her boyfriend. The problem was that about two months into the relationship he started complaining about various aspects of her character, behavior and appearance. He told her that she should drink less, give up smoking, stop swearing and lose some weight. I listened with growing indignation to this list of so called faults all of which were part of the girl I know and love without reservation.

I then gave her the following advice: Invite Mr.Whinger round for dinner. Serve a 5 course meal. Don’t forget to have an aperitif beforehand and serve a different bottle of wine with each course. Smoke between courses being sure to use your plate as an ashtray. Don’t forget to pepper the conversation liberally with unrepeatable expletives and dirty jokes. Finish off with a large brandy, don’t forget the cigar. THEN TELL THE BASTARD TO FUCK OFF! If he is in any doubt as to your intentions at this point a little music may help as you waltz him to the door, how about “Take your tongue out of my mouth I’m kissing you goodbye.”Don’t forget to slam the door once he is safely on the other side.

SOAP. Stolen as usual from ejokes.

The following letters are taken from an actual incident between a London hotel and one of its guests. The hotel ended up submitting the letters to the Sunday Times.


Dear Maid,
Please do not leave any more of those little bars of soap in my bathroom since I have brought my own bath-sized Imperial Leather.
Please remove the six unopened little bars from the shelf under the medicine chest and another three in the shower soap dish. They are in my way.
Thank you,S. Berman
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Dear Room 635,
I am not your regular maid. She will be back tomorrow, Thursday, from her day off. I took the 3 hotel soaps out of the shower soap dish as you requested. The 6 bars on your shelf I took out of your way and put on top of your Kleenex dispenser in case you should change your mind. This leaves only the 3 bars I left today which my instructions from the management are to leave 3 soaps daily.
I hope this is satisfactory.
Kathy,Relief Maid
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Dear Maid
I hope you are my regular maid.
Apparently Kathy did not tell you about my note to her concerning the little bars of soap. When I got back to my room this evening, I found you had added 3 little Camays to the shelf under my medicine cabinet.
I am going to be here in the hotel for two weeks and have brought my own bath-size Imperial Leather, so I won't need those 6 little Camays, which are on the shelf. They are in the way when shaving, brushing teeth etc.
Please remove them.
S. Berman
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Dear Mr. Berman,
The assistant manager, Mr. Kensedder, informed me this morning that you called him last evening and said you were unhappy with your maid service. I have assigned a new girl to your room. I hope you will accept my apologies for any past inconvenience.
If you have any future complaints, please contact me so I can give it my personal attention. Call extension xxxx between 8AM and 5PM.
Thank you.Elaine CarmenHousekeeper
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Dear Miss Carmen,
It is impossible to contact you by phone since I leave the hotel for business at 7:45 AM and don't get back before 5:30 or 6.00 PM. That's the reason I called Mr. Kensedder last night. You were already off duty. I only asked Mr.. Kensedder if he could do anything about those little bars of soap.
The new maid you assigned me must have thought I was a new check in today, since she left another 3 bars of hotel soap in my medicine cabinet, along with her regular delivery of 3 bars on the bathroom shelf.
In just 5 days here I have accumulated 24 little bars of soap. Why are you doing this to me?
S. Berman
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Dear Mr. Berman,
Your maid, Kathy, has been instructed to stop delivering soap to your room and to remove the extra soaps.
If I can be of further assistance, please call extension 1108 between 8 AM and 5 PM.
Thank you,Elaine Carmen,Housekeeper
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Dear Mr. Kensedder,
My bath-size Imperial Leather is missing. Every bar of soap was taken from my room, including my own bath-size Imperial Leather.
I came in late last night and had to call the bellhop to bring me 4 little Cashmere Bouquets.
S. Berman
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Mr.. Berman,
I have informed our housekeeper, Elaine Carmen, of your soap problem. I cannot understand why there was no soap in your room since our maids are instructed to leave 3 bars of soap each time they service a room.
The situation will be rectified immediately.
Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience.
Martin L. KensedderAssistant Manager
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Mrs. Carmen,
Who the hell left 54 little bars of Camay in my room?
I came in last night and found 54 little bars of soap. I don't want 54 little bars of Camay. I want my one damn bar of bath-size Imperial Leather.
Do you realize I have 54 bars of soap in here? All I want is my bath-size Imperial Leather.Please give me back my bath-size Imperial Leather.
S. Berman
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Mr.. Berman,
You complained of too much soap in your room, so I had them removed.
Then you complained to Mr.. Kensedder that all your soap was missing, so I personally returned them. The 24 Camays which had been taken and the 3 Camays you are supposed to receive daily.
I don't know anything about the 4 Cashmere Bouquets.
Obviously your maid, Kathy, did not know I had returned your soaps, so she also brought 24 Camays plus the 3 daily Camays.
I don't know where you got the idea this hotel issues bath-size Imperial Leather.
I was able to locate some bath-size Ivory which I left in your room.
Elaine CarmenHousekeeper
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Mrs.. Carmen,
Just a short note to bring you up-to-date on my latest soap inventory.
As of today I possess:
* On the shelf under the medicine cabinet -18 Camay in 4 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 2.* On the Kleenex dispenser - 11 Camay in 2 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 3.* On the bedroom dresser - 1 stack of 3 Cashmere Bouquet, 1 stack of 4 hotel-size Ivory, and 8 Camay in 2 stacks of 4.* Inside the medicine cabinet - 14 Camay in 3 stacks of 4 and 1 stack of 2.* In the shower soap dish - 6 Camay, very moist.* On the northeast corner of the tub - 1 Cashmere Bouquet, slightly used.* On the northwest corner of the tub - 6 Camays in 2 stacks of 3.
Please ask Kathy when she services my room to make sure the stacks are neatly piled and dusted. Also, please advise her that stacks of more than 4 have a tendency to tip.May I suggest that my bedroom window sill is not in use and will make an excellent spot for future soap deliveries.
One more item, I have purchased another bar of bath-size Imperial Leather, which I am keeping in the hotel vault in order to avoid further misunderstandings.
S. Berman

Mrs. Magoo in Mexico>

So,what do I write about to avoid being boring about the current non events in my housewifely life? Yep it’s another post about the past. Today we will be reminiscing about Cozumel, a visit to ”Carlos and Charlie’s Sloppy Bar” to be precise.
On the day in question I was in the company of a large group of friends and colleagues from the ship and we had gone to the Sloppy Bar for a few beers and a spot of incidental lunch. At some point in the proceedings I found it necessary to perform the ritual “breaking the seal” which is the bane of all beer drinkers. I set off on the long and tedious trek to the bathroom taking a last swig of my drink to keep me from becoming dehydrated on the way and promising my jolly pink faced friends that I would return as speedily as possible.
Ablutions duly completed I returned to the bar to resume the serious business of synchronized supping. Unfortunately the room had suffered some sort of tardis effect and now appeared much bigger than it had been only moments earlier. I scanned the room looking for someone either vaguely familiar or without a moustache and was gratified to spot a blonde mop of hair protruding from behind a monster pot of guacamole. Fixing my eyes on this Arian landmark I set out across the room like a blinkered donkey chasing a proverbial carrot. My friends soon became much easier to spot as they all jumped up and started waving and pointing in my direction. Needless to say my inebriated heart swelled with affection at this touching display of
friendly concern and I redoubled my efforts to rejoin them at speed. By the time I got to the table they were all shouting at once though not in jocular encouragement so much as stunned disbelief.
This is what happened; during my absence a fight had broken out between two local miscreants and they had both drawn knives and started waving and jabbing them at each other presumably as a prelude to a bit of nasty stabby stuff. It was at this point that Mrs. Magoo (me) made her appearance and eyes fixed on aforementioned blonde buddy walked completely oblivious right between the two blades. At which point the astounded Knife wielders lowered their weapons in astonishment affording the bar’s bouncers an opportunity to grab them and hustle them outside and out of sight. I cannot therefore say with any authority what they did next but I would like to think that they wandered away discussing the incident in amazement and becoming firm friends on the strength of it. After all who would believe a story like that unless it was backed up by a witness?

INNER PEACE

I am passing this on to you because it has definitely worked for me.By following the simple advice I read in an article, I have finally found inner peace........the article read:"The way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you've started."

So I looked around the house to see all the things I started and hadn't finished....and before coming to work this morning I have finished off a bottle of Bacardi, a bottle of white wine, a bottle of Vodka, my Prozac, some valium, a small box of chocolates and 2 litres of Fosters Lager, a 1/2 can of cider, a large reefer and some cheese. You have no idea how freaking good I feel....

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My big sister sent me this. I have always valued her advice so I thought it would be a good idea to share it with you.