What I Heard Yesterday

No more agency pay and conditions for me! The company I'm currently working for wants to employ me properly. I'm more than a bit pleased.

A bit of stability is just what Nellybert needs right now.

Scunging? In Your State of Health?

You'd think that a bitcher that had been at death's door on a Friday night would want to be taking it easy, wouldn't you?

You'd think that a dog that sat on the vet's examination table on a Saturday morning listening to talk of, whisper it - amputation - would want to be minding herself, wouldn't you?

You'd think that a silly fool of a dog with a big pink bandage on her leg wouldn't want to be off through the fields scunging, wouldn't you?

You'd be wrong.

Luckily Bert caught her and Paddy before they'd gone too far.

And the concrete is setting on the gate posts as we speak.

Pearlie Speaks Her Mind

Despite being in hospital Pearlie has lost none of her willingness to express her displeasure.

On admission: She was not at all impressed with the 'wee cup of tea, dear?'

Coul. Do they think I'm some sort of oul woman that might burn herself on a dacent drink of warm tea? I'm not drinking that oul slap.

On her nursing care:

I pressed the buzzer and they never came. I put my thumb on it and I just kept pressing it til they had to come. Just like this..

Pearlie! You're pressing it. They'll think you're wanting them!

Huh! They'll hardly be tripping over themselves! Wait til ye see.

Sure enough about five minutes later a staff member came on to the ward and asked in a desultory fashion,

Did someone press the buzzer?

Pearlie and I sat with innocent faces and said nothing. Little did we know that there was a flashing red light on the wall behind us that indicated that we had indeed pressed the buzzer. She gave us the benefit of the doubt and sauntered off.

And on her fellow patients.

Yer boy to the right. I woke up the other night and he was rummaging through my knickers! I says to him 'What are ye doing! Those are not yours!' And thon other boy. He's doting! He was up the other night wandering about and asking, 'What time is it? What time is it?' I says to him, 'It's time ye were in your bed and letting other folk get a wink of sleep!'

Poor Wee Me

Rosie Does Herself A Mischief

It’s been a hectic week at Nellybert’s. Pearlie had to go into hospital on Tuesday. She needed a blood transfusion as she had severe anaemia. She is waiting for tests and obviously we are all very worried about her. She is in fairly good spirits as the transfusion has revived her but she’s anxious about the forthcoming tests.

Then last night Rosie got hurt. She’d been outside having a pee. We heard a knock at the door, not straightaway, as the people were knocking on the scullery door and we were at the opposite side of the house. Bert went out to see and came back in great distress saying,

Rosie’s been hit with a car.

Jamie and Bert went out to see what had happened. I was certain she was dead. They brought her back to the house and she was still with us. There was blood on her forelegs and coming from her mouth and nose. Jamie, Hannah and I took her to the vet in Clough.

Bert was too distraught to drive so Jamie took us.

Thankfully the vet pronounced her ‘very lucky’. She had no apparent internal injuries. She was treated for shock and we were advised to bring her back in the morning for x-rays.

Today we found that she had a dislocated shoulder which has now been fixed.

A big thank you to the Woodrow family, who found her lying concussed in the middle of the road, removed her to safety and then alerted us. We’ve phoned and updated them on Rosie’s condition and they are happy to hear that she has survived.

And another big thank you to Zara the vet who attended Rosie so promptly.

P.S. Message for D&Z

Because of Pearlie's hospitalisation we decided to send Gracie to her other grandfolks. It's probably just as well as we're a bit too distracted for dog-sitting at the moment - Rosie's accident proves that.

And Bert has decided to prioritise gates at the top of the lane.

Election Fever

The posters are up, the party political broadcasts have begun. Something is in the air. And with it the same old cynicism, same old story,

• Sure what's the point of voting?
• They're all the same, politicians. Only out for themselves.
• My vote's not going to make any difference.
• I can't be arsed.

Our late father Seamus taught me many things and one of the most important was,

Your vote matters. Use it!

And if you're not sure how to use that vote you could do worse than take a look at this interesting wiki.

Young Loveheart: Hardy Hoor

Young Loveheart doesn’t believe in wasting time hanging around the A&E department. If he needs a spot of minor surgery he just does it himself. There was the time he cut himself at work, and to the bone mind! And he looks at his gashed finger and he thinks -that needs a bit of medical attention that does. So he reached for the superglue, pressed the edges of the wound together, applied a dollop of glue and Bob’s your uncle.

He will take medical advice when necessary. The time he had the huge lump on his wrist Young Rooney’s da, the GP, just happened to be leaving young Rooney off at Young Loveheart’s place. Young Loveheart goes out to him and showed him the lump and Young Rooney’s da says - that’s a ganglion. It’s going to need surgery.

And surgery is just what young Loveheart performed. He applied a tourniquet and put fresh blades in his Stanley knife and began incising. Took ages, he said and he had to go real deep. But he got it out in the end and dolloped on the superglue and never looked back. Showed me the scars and they’re ever so neat.

In fact the only time he’s ever had to outreach surgical services is the time he almost severed his penis on the toilet seat. But he was only about five then.

Losing My Religion

I called in with Matty this afternoon. She was just after getting her hair done at Cousin Pauline's.

Your hair looks lovely Mum, but look there, you've got this great big dirty smudge on your brow!

Then I remembered. It's Ash Wednesday. Perhaps Matty is right and I am turning into a Protestant.

Rehab

What with Britney and Robbie and Jade and Amy Winehouse (not) 'Rehab' is getting to be quite the place.

As you'd expect, me being cutting edge and all, I too have done Rehab time. But in those days we called it 'The Mental'.

No More Than Two Consecutive Nights

No more than two consecutive nights in bed.

Those were my instructions and I was, I am, determined to stick to them.

On night one Gracie was left downstairs in a cosy room in her cosy basket with its silken cushion. And for several hours all was well. Then at around half three the plaintive wails began. The crying was soft and sad at first becoming harder and more distressed. Poor wee thing. Perhaps Foxy was glaring in the patio doors at her. Or if not Foxy, maybe it was Ratty was baring his yellow fangs through the glass, or perhaps it was Tufty who disturbed her sleep as he raided the garden of its remaining Brussels sprouts. I tried to ignore her cries but it was too hard and anyway I needed to sleep. Had to get up for work next day. So I went down, gathered her up and she and I and Bonnie and Holly de Cat slept together peacefully and companionably until morning.

Last night was better. I left her downstairs with Paddy for company and there wasn’t a whisper out of her. But when I went downstairs this morning there was no Paddy and no Gracie. I found them in bed with Bert and Rosie.

Tonight she must sleep in her doggy bed. Or perhaps I should do what Pearlie suggested,

I dinnae like that wee doag. I'd like to hit it a quare skite. Ye should keep it in a cage.

Dos And Don'ts

Nellybert has been entrusted with the task of looking after (for one week only) the most precious dog in Ballymena.

Gracie’s owners are off to Mexico for a fortnight. I picked the whole lot of them up this afternoon and took them to Belfast to catch the bus to Dublin Airport.

D says,

I expect Zoë went over the dos and don’ts for Gracie’s stay?

Not really. I know not to feed her from the table. What’s the rule on beds?

No more than two consecutive nights.

Z chips in from the back seat,

She gets fed at 7.30pm. No treats unless she does a trick. Get her to play dead or something like that. Oh and she’s been doing this choking thing recently. She usually sorts it herself but if she can’t dislodge it just put your finger down her throat. If that doesn’t work grab her by the back legs and turn her upside down whilst patting her firmly on the back.

Righty oh. Any issues with comfy chairs?

Oh no. Comfy chairs are fine.

D interjects,

Unless you’re already eating there yourself. She’s not allowed to be on the sofa if you’re eating a sandwich. She knows that.

Z says,

If she should, God forbid, make a run towards the road you mustn’t run after her. I know it would be your first instinct but she’ll think it’s a game and run harder. What you must do is run in the opposite direction and shout “Ball!” She should run after you then.

Okey dokey.

And one other thing. She hates joggers. If you’re out for a walk be careful with joggers for she’ll go after them. And watch out for Willie Drennan. She hates him.

Willie Drennan

New Improved Men Only Quiz

It's two years since I first posted my Men Only Quiz. Here's a second chance to do it. Remember your hormone levels can change considerably in two years. Way back then Mr Bolan had a hormonal age of only 25!

I’m not saying there’s no such thing as the male menopause because I know a lot of Grumpy Old Gits and I’ve started to notice that some of our younger male friends are partying less and moaning more. I thought I’d devise this simple little questionnaire to help you measure your hormonal age*

Choose one statement from each part that most closely resembles your current situation.

Strength & Vitality

You push furniture around a room with your head. (2)

You can push furniture around a room with your head but only when you’re drunk and if you haven’t anything better to do. (18)

The only time you push furniture around a room with your head is when you’re receiving a jolly good seeing to. (25)

Those days are over. The only furniture you're interested in is the sort you can have a comfy snooze on. (58)

Sexual Orientation

You only love your Mammy (3)

You don’t like girls. (7)

Girls don’t like you (11)

Girls like you (16)

You like boys (21)

How great is it that you can buy over-the-counter Viagra now? (61)

Sleep Patterns

You like a nap in the afternoon. You’re cranky at bedtime and up with the lark. (3)

You are a creature of the night. (17)

You’re up all night (21)

You like the odd early night and late morning (25)

You’re up at the toilet all night and you nap all day. (79)

Would Be Rude Not To

You could entertain yourself for hours. (14)

You entertain each other all the time (23)

You entertain each other fairly often (34)

You entertain each other once in a while (45)

Mood

You are a proper Sunny Jim (1)

You gripe a bit at bedtime (6)

Schooldays were the happiest… (14)

First love is the sweetest…(16)

…After the hurly burly (30)

Someone’s parked outside our house! (35)

My name is Victor Meldrew (65)

Total your scores and divide by five. The resulting number corresponds to your hormonal age. For further information consult your GP who will likely tell you to go and boil your head. Not that I’d agree with that point of view as I really like the idea of a male menopause. It’s companionable.

*The questionnaire is only valid for male use. If females do it they may get skewed results. For example my own hormonal age was 49!

The Great Root Vegetable Robbery

Mince, onion and carrots was on the menu for tonight's supper. There was just one problem - no carrots. Bert says,

Never worry. Sure I dug a bucket of carrots the other day. They're in one of the sheds.

Goodoh. You going to fetch them?

Mmm. Yeah. Except I can't remember which shed they're in.

I don't know what it is he gets up to that gives him such a poor recall of recent events. Anyway out he goes armed with big torch to return minutes later in a rage.

Some bastard's away with our carrots!

You're joking! Maybe you were in the wrong shed?

No! I found the bucket I put them in. They're away - every last one of them!

This was strange. Who'd nick a bucket of carrots and not even take the bucket? It's only a week or two since we were robbed of a stone of beetroot out of the tractor shed. Once again the thief (or thieves) took the veggies but left the containers.



It wasn't a pleasant thought that some vegetable thief was sneaking about our yard robbing our roots but it was very strange that they were leaving the containers behind. If I was out pinching beetroot I'd definitely take the buckets and trays they were in. So we thought again. Maybe it was Ratty that made off with the beetroot and carrots? But Ratty tends to gnaw food where he finds it. He makes a mess. Our veggie thief didn't leave as much as a leaf behind.

So this left Mr Nutkin. I truly believe that somewhere around this place there's a big-tailed grey fecker sitting on a mound of beetroot and carrots that would choke a donkey. And to think it was only yesterday I was giving out to Bert about trying to blast Tufty out of the trees. I'll be positively encouraging him from now on.

BLAMMM! Take that ye beetroot-munching bastard!

Radio Stars

Bert was not one bit impressed that Ed got to meet Hugo Duncan.

He was ripping, though, that I did not use my new-found BBC connections to wangle some inside info on his hero - Gerry Anderson.

World's Smallest Political Quiz

With the Assembly elections looming I thought I'd better check my political leanings to see which candidate would be best fit with my ideals. Once again I find I'm a Libertarian. Now where do I go from here?

Green Car

I got another car this evening. Bert bought it for me...he'd do anything rather than drive me to work.

Then I drove it to Belfast International to pick up Jamie. Don't ask me what the car looks like because I haven't actually seen it yet. It was dark. I'm told it's green.

The Ship Was Stupid Too

I watched a film last night - The Day After Tomorrow. It was tosh. I think I was awake while it was on but there were so many loopholes and inconsistencies that robbed it of sense. I had the impression that the original movie was about a week long and that they edited it down to a load of unbelievable bollocks. And whose idea was the wolves? Wolves just don't act like that. No matter how cold and hungry they are.

And reporters out doing live broadcasts with no hats on! In the worst weather ever! And you take refuge in a library, probably the only building in the city not bursting with food. And you burn books to keep warm? Bert says books make hopeless fires. I wonder how he knows that?

Jake Gyllenhall was crapola and the guy who played his dad - who was he? I vaguely know his face from somewhere. One of those bland, forgettable faces.

So that's how I put in an hour and a half last night. When I could have been blogging. Blogging about the collapse of my political ambitions. For now I know I'll never lead a major political party, not with the number of people who've passed me a doozie in my day.

Cheer Up. Why Don't You?

I had a little episode last night when everything just got too much for me. I was making supper at the time. What sparked it off? Well, for a start, Bert brought the wrong sort of cabbage. So it was that I was quietly sobbing into the cottage pie when Swisser, the first of our supper guests, arrived.

Hi everyone! Here I am!

Hi.

Are you alright?

No. I'm not

What's wrong. Is Bert being horrible to you?

No. He's been very good to me.

Well never mind. Here's a celeriac. That should cheer you up. It's organic.

Thanks.

Ed Sell Granny?

1. A ratty tosser
2. Changing
3. Girl ends away
4. A rabbi sent poo
5. Yew boozer
6. Butchered one
7. Is a dancer
8. Ye rascals
9. Go sue ego troll
10. Naked ax genius
11. Hot corner genius
12. Honey van Hall
    

It's a quiz. Some are easy - some are not.

I'll Risk It

I don't know if I'm cut out for office work. Certainly I can handle the pleasant telephone manner, "Good afternoon, this is Blah Blah Solutions. Nelly speaking." I even answer whilst grinning like an ape smiling, as I'm certain that this can be transmitted along the telephone wires. Maybe if the office was busier it'd be better. Today I received my first telephone call at 2pm. It was Matty and she was only calling because I'd called her previously to ring me to check the phone was actually working.

Today I mostly researched the last 35 years of Doonesbury. I reckon it could be my specialist subject in Mastermind. If Bert was a Doonesbury character he'd be Zonker Harris. I used to fancy Zonker but now I think I'd go for B.D. Was that a Freudian slip?

Bloggers Do It Better

For reasons I'm not quite ready to go into yet* I've been feeling very down recently. And particularly so today. So it's a big thankyewverymuch to Sandra for making me laugh (out loud) at her hilarious post and to Ed for his breathtakingly cheeky comment on that very same post.

*Ach it's probably just my age. And having no wheels because my car is totally banjaxed.

I Miss This

Slemish at Sunrise, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

Sometimes I wish I still lived down the road. The view was better.

And I wasn't so worried.

The house was cosier and easier to clean.

It wasn't so close to the road

And it was our house.

I miss it.

Sibling Rivalry

Humph! It shows, it bloody shows. I live in a backwater - every day it's Cullybackey to Kells, Kells to Cullybackey - the only bit of life I ever see is the occasional shopping trip to Lidl's. And there is Ganching - centre of the universe, North London, John Lewis, a Mac v. PC debate going on in her blog, intellectual commenters coming out of her ears. It's so maddening. All I've got to show on my blog is cute Holly pictures.

But I liked David's comment. And in case you missed it -

There's a small corner of heaven reserved for mac-users. It looks a bit like an Ian Schrager boutique hotel and you get given a freshly laundered black polo neck every day.

I wish someone would give me a freshly laundered black polo every day. It'd surely be better than moulting cheap black cashmere over the office Mac.

Where Is Cybez?

Error 400?

Pearlie

Pearlie is going to be 81 this coming Saturday. Last year we held an 80th birthday party which she really enjoyed. Last year she said she wanted a party every year from now on.

This year she says she wants 'no fuss'. Which is OK. Pearlie has lost over three stone since last year. She has lost her appetite and much of her mobility. There will be a 'this year' but, I fear, no 'next year'.

Happy Birthday Student Sister

Happy Birthday!

One Week In

I am perfecting the art of one of those offhand, squiggly signatures that says, "I have far too many important letters to sign to take the time to write legibly innit?"

I have not yet mastered the intricacies of the internal phone system. When the boss is out I practice like mad and send many calls (from my mobile) to his office and it all works perfectly. But when he is in his office the phone turns on me, makes me look like a bollix when I only manage to get 1 in 3 calls patched through. He's awfully good about it though.

I must be a responsible mature person because he's off skiing all next week and I'm managing the office by myself. In fact I'm so responsible (or paranoid?) that I am already worrying that the building will burn down during the weekend.*

*If it does burn down I'll probably do time after writing the above and that will be the end of this blog.

Hi! It's Holly De Cat!

Me just hanging about

Yay! Hi guys! Holly here! Ya know I'm the youngest one at Nellybert's now, 'cept for me and Bonnie the rest are a bunch of boring old farts. Bert's OK, Nelly is dull-dull-dull and Rosie n Paddy are beyond dull.

All Nelly does is housework and cakes and hunch over that stupid computer. She goes men-tal if I walk on it when she's doing dullness on it. Least when Bert's playing the clarinet he doesn't yell at me if I show some interest.

Me and my bezzie mate

If I ever get the chance (as if!) I'm getting a Bebo page and this is what I'm sort of thinking about so far. Wot u think?

Stuff I like

• Claro music
• Meat
• Hanging about
  
• Hanging about in bags
• Hanging about with Bonnie
• Fighting
• Spar bags
• Bert
• Fish
• Mice
• Racing
• Sleeping
• Climbing

The Other Half Of Me

• Bonnie. She's the best

Hanging (again)