Farm Diversification

Young Rooney called in this afternoon and we got to bouncing a few ideas around. These mostly centred around what Nellybert's going to do to bring the dosh in for the old age. Neither of us has much in the way of pension plans. In fact I just cashed mine in and it's just about enough to pay off my credit card and buy some decent teeth. Young Rooney says,

You could rent out the ground.

Doing that. Money's crap.

You could plant trees.

Done that. Fifteen acres in trees already.

What about a garden centre? Bert could run it and you could do a tea shop. Sell your cheesecake.

We hate garden centres.

Lots of money to be made.

Huh!

Boarding kennels then?

Someone tried for boarding kennels before and the road put in against it.

Cattery?

Mmmm. Maybe.

Riding stables? Paintballing?

Nelly goes,

Paintballing? Lots of fit blokes running about? Mmm. Maybe.

Bert goes,

Riding stables? Lots of gorgeous lassies in jodphurs? Sounds OK. Far better than all those oul biddies that hang about garden centres.

Young Rooney goes,

Aye. Riding stables. Me and Loveheart'll be round here all the time. Loveheart says all those horsey girls are mad for it. He says it's all the bouncing about in saddles that gets them going.

Nelly says,

Yeah. And I can become one of those old eccentric horsey women running about in filthy jeans and bodywarmers with no time to go to the hairdresser.

Bert says,

Sure that's you now...

There Shall Be Weeping And Gnashing....

The Swearing Lady doesn't appear to have got back from the Irish Blog Awards yet. I do hope she hasn't run off with Twenty. But if she does get back to the Arse End I daresay she'll hardly be telling us what that oul goat really looks like. It's like the best kept secret ever. And all the bloggers who met him will be gloating to themselves and dropping hints and telling the rest of us 'minions' fuck all.

Aye it's the word 'minions' that has put me in a rage. Not against Madame Sweary of course but at yerman from Tinkerton Towers who used to refer to the staff 'under' him as minions, as in,

Oh I'll get one of my minions to do that.

That really used to set my teeth on edge. And don't get me started on teeth....

I've Had Some Work Done

I found this little time-wasting diversion

over at Ronni's.

The Pictures (not mine)

mosaic2618913, originally uploaded by tad2106.

Blood Moon

Nellybert’s exciting Saturday night entertainment

The News From Cully

We are harbouring a dangerous dog who ought to be included in the list of banned dogs. So far she has attacked Bonnie, Willie Drennan and Holly de Cat. Only Holly gave a good account of herself. Yes. Gracie's back in Cully as her other grandpeople have got dog-fearing visitors this weekend.

Other news. Pearlie's test results have not revealed anything too sinister so we're all feeling a lot happier about that.

Then as soon as Bert allowed himself to relax he got man-flu which necessitated cowering under a woolly blanket, emerging only occasionally to play the clarinet. That wretch young Rooney has given him another clarinet which has fired up his enthusiasm for the honking hatefulness of it.

Rosie is also on the mend and still sporting the pink bandage. She lost her bark for a week but it returned this morning when Gracie rocked up. Bert got the gate up. It is hideous looking but I suppose it will do till we get one.

And apart from that I'm up to my eyes in overdue assignments so... really must dash!

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)

Class Meets Ass

But which is which?

I kind of like Anna Wintour. She's got a good look and all the better for leaving off the big sunnies. But I sure hope that coat is fake fur for I like cats more than Ms Wintour.

Now Sienna. You clown. You attention-seeking little madam. Out in your pantie-girdle and not a skirt to your name. You don't even need a girdle. Still I suppose it is a better look than flashing the fan like Britney et al.

How Come?

Our phone line has had a fault on it - so says BT. They also say the engineer will have it fixed by tomorrow. So, how come the phone hasn't worked for two days yet I've still got an internet connection?

First Days

There are lots of first days in temping work. The run up to them is always nerve wracking. After the angst the actual first day is almost always a doddle. Today was no exception.

It's the third or fourth days that can be problematical. Those are the days when the employer might start to think, is this one ever going to get the hang of this?

I meant to swot the company on the web last night but I watched the Big Brother final instead. Jermaine Jackson was robbed. Not to say that Shilpa wasn't a worthy winner but...I cannot help thinking that they rig the vote. What perfection that she should win after her ordeal at the hands of Jade the Obscene. Methinks a fix.

I cannot help feeling sorry for Danielle though. She makes it to the final night and comes out to find she's a dumped social pariah. And what about Jack? Sitting on Russell Brand's show as large as life and as if he hadn't rode to 'fame' on the coat tails of Britain's most hated woman.

Do you know something? I've just decided. I'm never going to appear on TV.

Not a lot of people know this but Bert was on TV once. The Ulster News as it happens. Someone was being interviewed on the streets of Ballyclare and Bert just wandered past. He was wearing a light-coloured jacket and someone had written on it the legend,

I am a TV

Bert was not aware of any of this. He was going to a bun shop and all that was in his head was sausage rolls and currant squares.

Another person of my acquaintance that has appeared on the News is Swisser. She would normally be pontificating about the importance of eating breakfast or some such nutritional-type nugget of information. She's always going on about that sort of thing - even when she's not on Tv and only at Nellybert's for her tea. She'll be going on and on about transfats and carcinogens. I just say to her,

Leave work at work. Now shut up and eat your Jenny Bristow Pear Tart and never mind what sort of butter I used!

And speaking of butter the Wee Manny said he wasn't the better of the other Saturday night until the following Wednesday. He said he only had half an Interesting Brownie. But Ploppy Pants reports that he savaged three into him around about two in the morning. And had to be put to bed!

Keenog Stan

A man travelled to a distant land. As he travelled through the country he came to a beautiful city. He was so impressed by the buildings he saw that he stopped a man in the street and said, "Who built this beautiful city?" The man replied, "Keenog Stan."

The traveller came to a wonderful garden. Again he asked a passer-by, "Who designed this wonderful garden?" The woman replied, "Keenog Stan."

In the garden he saw a glorious rose bush. The scent was the most delicious he had ever come across. He asked a gardener, "Who grew this beautiful rose?" The gardener answered him with, "Keenog Stan." The traveller thought that this Keenog Stan must be a very remarkable person.

And so it went on. Every wonderful thing that the traveller saw had been designed, built, developed, invented by Keenog Stan - which meant "I do not understand" in the language of the country.

I was very impressed with this fable when I first encountered it in Wide Range Readers: Blue Book 5 at age eight or so. Does anyone else remember these readers? There were also Green Books which we didn't use. I was sure that Green Books were sure to be much more interesting than our Blue Books and were probably kept for the exclusive use of those sophisticated Protestants.

How Very Dare You!

Bert is watching television. Nelly is stomping around the kitchen. Bert shouts for Nelly to come see something.

Bert: Here! Look at that! You should go in for that. You'd be great at that.

Nelly: What! Strictly Lady Sumo?

Bert: Yeah! You could do that.

Nelly: Let me tell you this young-fellow-me-lad. If I were to go in for that you would be a sorry boy! A very sorry boy indeed!

Bugger That

Sore back has returned. Baa'stard!

Not Another New Job!

Yes indeedy. I start next Monday.

This couldn't have come at a better time for I was starting to realise that the hands-on caring work was not for me. Hurting my back scared me to bits. I'd always have been worried about it happening again.

No details on the new job other than I'll be working for a young businessman who is a friend of a friend.

Good Advice

"Sandra don't listen to Nelly as you know what a blether she is."

So says Ganching. And she should know.

But seriously folks - the purpose of this blog is to amuse myself and, hopefully, occasionally, to amuse others. It's not to offend or 'get at' people. It seems that I may have offended someone over the past few days and for that I am sorry. It wasn't my intention.

Feel free to contact me on my email if you want to talk about this outside the public domain.

Colour Quiz

Nelly took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Seeks success, stimulation, and a life full of exp..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Thanks to Rolpol for the link

I Got Those Goddamned Sore Back Blues

If I were an old time blues singer (and I'd love to be) I'd be called Big Fat Mama Nelly Moser and my signature tune would be 'Those Ol' Sore Back Blues'.

If Bert were an ol' time blues player he'd be Blind Bobby John Orr and he'd be famous for singing and playing 'My Ol' Fat Mama Don't Jelly Roll No More'.

So guess who has been on SoulSeek adding to her blues collection?

Ouchie!

I mentioned on Friday that I hurt my back at work but, being a brave and uncomplaining soul, haven't mentioned it since.

Well - on Saturday morning it was difficult getting out of bed and I was well pissed off about it. But after a few co-codamol, a 40 minute walk and a hot bath I was reasonably fine.

Yesterday it seemed to have stiffened up again but after the painkiller, walk and bath treatment it was grand by last night and I was all set for work today.

This morning it was great - hardly a twinge and I set off for work. Maybe a little bit sore getting out of the car but nothing much - then...

Maybe it was a bit of an atmosphere I sensed, maybe it was the cold, maybe apprehension that the work expected of me was physical but whatever, the next thing my back went into a sort of spasm. The worst pain yet. I sent myself home.

So here I am. Sore to sit down, sore to stand and sore to walk. I'm dosed to the eyeballs with painkillers and I've got a hottie stuffed down the back of my trousers. As if my arse wasn't big enough.

I Never Read Moby Dick

What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Dedicated Reader You are always trying to find the time to get back to your book. You are convinced that the world would be a much better place if only everyone read more.
Book Snob
Literate Good Citizen
Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm
Fad Reader
Non-Reader
What Kind of Reader Are You? Create Your Own Quiz

Found at El Capitan's

Go on Ganching. Bet you're a book snob! Bet Marc's one too.

And Ed - a Literate Good Citizen?

That Hurts

I hurt my back this morning while helping a small, disabled man from a car to a wheelchair. I was following all the correct procedures, using a handling belt and so on but it's an awkward move and this man can be a dead weight at times. Next thing I felt something pull in my lower back.

It has moved up to the middle of my back now but here's hoping it will be all gone by the morning. I'm on medication of course - Chardonnay and co-codamol. And Matty is praying for me. I'll be grand in the morning.

A Cold Goodbye

Pearlie saw her specialist today. She is not much the wiser about what ails her but she has been told she will have an endoscopy procedure done at some time in the future.

While Bert and she were at the hospital I went to my Aunt's funeral with Leitrim Sister and Matty. Not so many of Matty's generation around now. They're either gone or too ill to go to funerals. I met around thirty of my cousins and we're getting to be the oldies now. Nearly all of us as grey as badgers and the rest either dyed or bald. Except Leitrim Sister who still sports a full head of ginger (ahem! I mean auburn) curls.

The funeral service was one of the best I've ever heard. For once the priest spoke of a real person rather than a plaster saint. My Aunt was not the easiest of women yet he described her in a way that highlighted her humanity, helped me to understand her eccentricities, her outspokenness and made me wish I'd had more time for her. A lesson learned. We froze at her graveside. I'm sure it served me right.

1932-2007

Mattyspeak

In Matty's world people do not experience concern or merely worry. No. In Matty's world people are 'demented' or 'demented with worry'. And you'd never be poorly or ill - in order of seriousness you would be,

• not well
• not a bit well
• not one bit well
• awaitin' on
• annointed
• dead
• buried

For example: Your Uncle Davy is not one bit well. His one's are demented about him.

In her world a person does not disapprove of something. They are 'dead nuts against it'.

Your Vancouver Brother is dead nuts against tablets.

Tablets? What d'ye mean?

He's dead nuts against all the tablets I'm on. He says I've no need of them and that the doctors are all pill-pushers.

His arse! Sure isn't it the tablets that are keeping all youse oul wans living?

I told him that. I told him I needed all my tablets except that wee sleeping tablet. I don't really need it but I like it.

Sure it does you no harm.

Aye! But you'll die when you hear this one. The third day he was here he told me he got a great night's sleep. Says he took one of my sleeping tablets!

And after him giving off too.

Aye. I told him he could have one more of them and then he'd got his gettings!

A Nest of Vipers...

...you know who y'all are.

On my mind -

Pearlie. She's got a hospital appointment tomorrow. What is gastrenterology? Is this why she doesn't like eating?

Matty. Her sister died on Sunday and she's very sad.

Old People In General. So worrying. They get sick and then they die.

Bonnie. Covered in boils and on heat. The vet says it's nothing to fret about. And that will be another twenty of your fine pounds.

The Aforementioned Nest. Why can't people be nice? Or at least pretend to be.

Extreme Cooking

Our local celebrity chef Jenny Bristow is, in my opinion, up there with Nigella, Jamie and the rest of them.

Her unique appeal lies in that she can create new ideas and twists using affordable ingredients that are ready available in any local or high street shop,

I'm confident in saying that Jenny's recipes are so well designed that successful results can be guaranteed even when the cook is drunk.

Inspired by Jenny's example and using her brownie recipe I created my own unique twist using ingredients not easily found in any local or high street shop.

Cybez' recipe for Nigerian Groundnut Stew went down well with the carnivores while the veggies relished a meat-free chili dish. We had parsnip soup to begin and apple & raspberry crumble to finish.

Everything seemed a little topsy-turvy last night. At one point during a conversation with Swisser I realised that she was making total sense while I was talking bollocks. How strange.

I was fast asleep by 11pm while everyone else stayed up until 2am. Was it the wine, the brownies, exhaustion? Who knows? But I do know this - the way I felt this morning makes me glad that getting stoned is becoming an annual event rather than a daily one.

Interesting Brownies...

are very interesting indeed.

What's Cookin'?

I'm making Nigerian Groundnut Stew and Interesting Brownies tonight. Please pray for me and my guests.

AND.....a very Happy Berliner Birthday to Ganching!

Bert Cooks Plain Dinners But Pearlie Disnae Like Them

On Tuesday we had mince, onions and carrots for dinner. Pearlie told her niece,

I suppose it was alright. I couldnae eat the oul carrots because my teeth were in the kitchen and I wouldn't ask Bert to bring them into me for he'd only be shouting at me.

He cooked liver for dinner yesterday evening. When he asked Pearlie what she thought of it she said,

I didnae think much o' it.

Tonight it was steak pie and mushy peas. She accepted it with fairly good grace and asked for salt and pepper. He brought her the salt and pepper shakers from the kitchen.

I dinnae like them oul salt and pepper dusters. Bring me them ither salt and pepper dusters from the kitchen...

Another True Story

It was when the brother lived in London that he knew this guy, in his early thirties, who still lived with his old Mum and Dad who were very good to him.

Yerman was by no means a druggie but he took a liking to smoking cannabis after falling in with some bad company.

Of course his elderly folks being unworldly types would have had no idea that their young fellow would be getting into such devilment so yerman was in a bit of a quandary when he found that the remains of his ten-deal was missing from his bedside table. So he says,

Mother! Have you been cleaning my room again?

Yes son. I've been up cleaning your room. Why? What's up?

Did you throw anything away? Something on my bedside table?

Like what son?

Er. Um. Like a bit of mud?

Mud?

And his father goes,

Mud! What you mean mud? Have you not been cleaning his room properly Mother?

Wot's A Dimella?

Yes. Guilty as charged. I'm watching Celebrity Big Brother or, as Ken Russell would have it, Nonentity Big Brother. And tonight Jackiey was booted off. It was just as well as she was one of the most cringingly awful contestants ever. Having the mother on the show was a good move for Jade as people will have even more sympathy for her now that they see the awful parent she has had to put up with.

And what's with the Y at the end of Jackiey? I totally hate people who spell their names in a stupid way. It would be like Ed calling himself Edd or Marc calling himself Marck. It's just wrong. Sometimes, I'll admit, it's the parent's fault but I'm sure Jackiey's parents didn't put that abomination on her birth certificate.

People let a wise woman advise you. If you must use crappy names keep them for your dogs* or cats or hamsters. Not your precious children.

• Some Good Names for Boys: Matthew, Marc, Luke, John, Stephen, Alexander, Edward, Manuel, Seamus/James, Robert, Thomas
  
• Some Bad Names for Boys: Carisenda, Dylan, Jermajesty, Darren, Kian, Jordan, Spike
• Some Good Names For Girls: Martha, Mary, Jane, Hannah, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Eleanor
• Some Bad names For Girls: Chardonnay, Jade, Amber, Ganching, Peaches, Nelliey
  

I think I've had a rant about this before but it was ages ago and what's the point of a blog if a body can't have a whinge about a pet hate.

*And speaking of pets - perhaps you shouldn't give your dog a crappy name either unless it is a particularly stupid sort of dog like the kind starlets carry around in their handbags.

Some Like It Hot

We got our electricity bill today. It was in three figures. More than four hundred pounds. What do you think of that then? That is some giant carbon footprint.

So what do you think we are up to then? Rearing battery chicks? No. Running a cannabis farm? No. Taking in washing? Yes. But not that much.

There can only be one reason for such a huge bill and that is Pearlie. Pearlie likes to be cosy and warm and no harm in that at her age. But she uses all at the same time:

· Oil-fired central heating

· A Super Ser (gas heater)

· Two electric fires

The heat in her mobile home would make a normal person faint. I’m convinced it killed her dog. I cannot sit there with her for more than thirty minutes at a time before getting multiple hot flushes. The place is like a furnace. She even keeps the heat on in the summer time. If it gets too warm she throws open the kitchen door and you can see the heat haze shimmering out.

My mother visited her the other evening.

There’s some heat in here Pearlie.

D’ye think so? I feel no great heat.

She keeps an electric fire in her bedroom... Despite this she always takes a hot water bottle and there used to be an electric blanket too but Bert banned it on health and safety grounds. She now puts on two cardigans and a head scarf before retiring.

Bert had a word with her about the electricity bill. She denied it had anything to do with her. She said,

It’s youse ones! Always burning lights. I see them lights on all the time and many the time I thocht to mysel’ them boys must have plenty of money with niver turning them lights off!

Today I Have Been Mostly...

Listening to...

He Just Doesn't Have The Balls

Paddy came to us from the Crosskennan Animal Sanctuary and as is the custom they neutered him before rehoming him. This is the proper course to take, as neutered animals do not produce more unwanted offspring. Yet at the very start I got an impression that Paddy was pissed off at losing his cojones. I think he might have been quite a player in his day.

Rosie was a neutered rescue dog from the Dog's Trust so Paddy has never encountered an on season bitch since he came to live with us. He’s never seemed to miss ‘that side of things’ - that is until now. For Bonnie has all her bits in place and she’s coming on to heat and Paddy is ever so excited. It seems that when they took away his mechanics they didn’t take away his interest. The pair of them are cavorting and bottom-sniffing and he’s trying to get in there. It is bound to end in disappointment for one or both of them. Just as well really. Can you imagine the mutts those two would have produced?

Explicit

Homophobic Bus Driver: D’ye watch that Celebrity Big Brother last night?

Nelly: Yeah. I forgot it was on. Only saw the last twenty minutes.

HBD: Y’see that one out of Steps? Says he’s gay now. What d’ye think of that?

Nelly: Good timing. Good publicity for his career. Do him no harm.

HBD: Y’see that Ken Russell? He used to make very explicit films didn’t he?

Nelly: Yeah. Got a surprise there. Didn’t see him coming in. Thought he was Charlie Drake at first glimpse.

HBD: Y’see that Women In Love?

Nelly: Oh yes. Remember the nude wrestling scene?

HBD: Oh yes. I remember that. Very explicit wasn’t it?

Nelly: You think so?

HBD: Remember that Last Tango In Paris? That was very explicit wasn’t it?

Nelly: For the time.

HBD: You like explicit films?

Nelly: You mean sexually explicit?

HBD: Oh yes.

Nelly: Tell you the truth I prefer a good war film. Blood and guts, exploding shells, heads, that sort of thing.

The Visitor's Book 2006

Here are some of the comments left in Nellybert’s Visitor’s Book over the holiday period.

…. Nelly said it was Christmas Dinner but it wisnae! It wis beef and ye haftae hae fowl for Christmas Dinner! Nelly was that cheeky when I said – she said it was a dinner and it was Christmas and I was tae come ower before it got cowl and to tell you the truth she trailt me ower aginst my will. And her oul puddin’ was rotten too, it was as bitter as gall…

…. I always spend my New Year’s birthday at Nellybert’s and you’d think I’d get a bed by now but it was still the bloody sofa.

…. Nelly forgot to make the vegetarian gravy so I had to make do with cheese sauce which was exceptionally good. She did make me a special stuffing and it was yum-yum but there was something about it…you’d nearly have thought…but surely not? Nelly wouldn’t do that…would she?….

…It was great at Nelly’s. You should have seen all the toys Bert got from Santa. He got a rocking horse and a crane and he let me play with them. He wouldn’t let me play with his guns and he’s got three and they’re real ones too. Then Nelly showed me Harry de Cat’s grave and it’s got tiles on top. Nelly says that’s to stop Mr Fox digging him up which wouldn’t be very nice because he’s a skellington now. Nelly and me went for a really long walk in Portglenone Forest then she wouldn’t let me go to the shop for sweets because her exhaust fell off…

…Martina and me showed Nelly our Bebo pages and Nelly told Mum that I said I was 16 on mine and that Martina had a photo on hers with a Benson in her mouth. She’s a tout. You couldn’t tell her anything.

…The dinner was very nice but I swear to God you could not move through that house without bumping into some sort of an animal. Zoë had her wee dog Gracie out with her and though it’s a lovely looking wee thing, and there they were all oohing and aahing about how cute and sweet it was to see her playing with the new kitten, I saw the dirty looks that wee brute was giving that kitten when it thought no one was watching. I’d not like to leave them on their own for too long…

This year our visitors were Zoë, Dave, Hannah, Jamie, Eamon, Mel, PP, Jenny, Marty, Jazzer, Swisser, Martina, Erin, Ben, John, Buffy, Dirt Bird, Pearlie and Gracie. Ganching sent her apologies and some rather nice presents.

Happy New Year

The Last Of Christmas

Christmas Meme

El Capitan tagged me with this. It’s still Christmas so...

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Wrapping paper. This year I didn’t have to buy any as I’d loads left over from last year and I remembered where I’d left it. And I bought hardly any presents.

2. Real tree or artificial?
Real. We have thousands of the buggers growing in the fields. They are starting to get rather big.

3. When do you put up the tree?
Awfully close to Christmas unless some darling person, like Hannah, does it for me.

4. When do you take the tree down?
Holly de Cat is already working on the dismantling. I’ll finish the job next weekend. This weekend I’ve got the young Banjos coming to stay.

5. Do you like eggnog?
It’s vile beyond belief.

6. Favourite gift you received as a child?
My first tricycle.

7. Do you have a nativity scene?
No. I’m going to ask Zoë to knit me one for next year.

8. Hardest person to buy for?
Katy. Amazon won’t let me send her present.

9. Easiest person to buy for?
Bert. He’s happy with anything.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
I haven’t sent Christmas cards for more than ten years.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
This is a public blog. I loved all my gifts.

12. Favourite Christmas movie?
Don’t have one.


13. When do you start shopping?
In a bad year the week before Christmas

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
Yes.

15. Favourite thing to eat at Christmas?
Turkey, stuffing, Brussels sprouts, pudding, trifle, chocolate, mince pies, cake….

16. Clear lights or coloured on the tree?
Coloured

17. Favourite Christmas song?
Santa Baby – Eartha Kitt

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
Home.

19. Can you name all of Santa’s Reindeers?
Not without googling.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star?
The kitten chewed the angel so it was a star.

21. Open the presents on Christmas Eve or morning?
Christmas morning.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?
The commercial aspect of Christmas. People buying cruddy crap that nobody sane should want. Shopping frenzies.

23. Do you have Jesus in your heart this Christmas?
No. Too many people have preached at me this year and I’m feeling peeved with God-botherers.

24. What would you like for Christmas?
Exactly the same as El Capitan. A ball of money to pay off debts. Then I’d live within my means for ever. Swear I would.

I shan’t tag anyone. Only if you feel like it.

Every Picture Tells A Story

Well I think our Christmas blogmeet went well. Zoe's got some pictures for anyone interested in that sort of thing. Although the Beach Octopus*, a lovely girl, seems to have cleverly avoided appearing in any of them.

We fought our way through thick fog and high mountains to get there, some of us travelled from the far Northern regions (of America, London and Manchesterland), some of us got up at 4am that morning and worked the Nixt! Sale and still managed to attend. Some of us even had to bate our way past worried priests and anxious Mammys to make it to Johnny Joe's on time.

To those of you who couldn't make it - of course we talked about you. But it was all good.

*You really had to be there. Unless Katkins is reading?

St Stephen's Day

We're having Boxing Day dinner at 4pm. And I'm back to work tomorrow so there will be no blogging until Thursday - after the Blogmeet.

So that's McCollam's (Johnny Joe's), Cushion Doll (Cushendall) tomorrow at around 8pm.

So Here It Is...

Merry Christmas....EVERYONE!

Oh! Christmas Tree

Christmas preparations are under way.

Bert was dispatched to the Christmas Tree Fields this morning and returned with a passable specimen. Apparently he was nearly crying when he cut it down. He'd have been crying even harder if he'd had to fork out 20 quid for a shop bought one.

I've just finished decorating it with some hindrance from Holly de Cat. I'm not one of those sophisticates who themes and colour coordinates the tree. Instead I hoke out the thirty years accumulation of decos and smother it so that the finished effect looks like I stood on a tall stepladder and poured tinsel and shiny things out of a bucket.

Meanwhile out at the old homestead Vancouver Brother is busy looking after Ganching and Matty who are both a bit poorly. Ganching has pleurisy and Matty has inflammation of the eye. Get well soon people.

Ganching should be recovered enough to make the Cushion Doll blogmeet but I doubt she'll be dancing on the tables.

Too Good For Cats

This basket looks awesome. It's far too good to waste on that stinking kitten.

If I can just get myself positioned right it will fit me to a tee!

What do you mean it's too small?

See! Told you!

Peformance Art

How did the teaching practice go?

Teaching practice?

You know - that thing you were doing tonight. Teaching that lot about word processing – that thing you’ve been working at for the last week. Did you make a good job of it? Did it go smoothly? Did you get yourself in a big tizzy?

In a big tizzy? I don’t know where you get the idea that any of that stuff matters one tiny little bit. I wasn’t doing Teaching Practice. I was doing Performance Art if you must know. It’s not about things going smoothly and getting it right or anything like that. It’s Art! And as Art it went very well thanks very much for asking!

Nelly's Recipes: No. 1

CHEESE SCONE RECIPE

You will need

• Neill’s Soda Bread Flour (200g)
• Butter (50g)
• Strong cheddar cheese
• 1 egg
• Buttermilk
• Salt & Black Pepper
• Dried mustard or paprika

Rub the butter into the flour until it resembles very fine breadcrumbs. (Tip: cut butter into small pieces for ease of breadcrumbing)

Add salt (go easy), black pepper (good sprinkle and one teaspoon dried mustard or half teaspoon of paprika.

Add at least 50g of grated cheese. You can add up to 100g but bear in mind that extra cheese will give the scones a heavier texture. They’ll still be yummy.

Mix in the beaten egg and enough buttermilk to make firm dough. Shape the dough on a floured surface into a piece about a finger thick (if, like mine, your fingers are fat). You can cut these into eight squarish scones. Place on a greased baking tray. (Tip: If you add too much liquid and your dough turns out a bit soggy just lash it on to a tray without shaping or cutting and call it bread.)

Cook in a fairly hot oven for 10-12 minutes. Longer if baking bread.

Actually I just fling all the ingredients, except the buttermilk, into a Magimix and let it rip. Then I add the buttermilk in dribs and drabs until I get the consistency I want.

(Tip: Scones or bread are ready to come out of the oven if they make a hollow sound when you tap them.)

Worried

Bert has taken Holly de Cat to the vet after I secured an emergency appointment. We think one of the dogs has hurt her. There is nothing obvious on the outside but she vomited blood.

Update: The vet's opinion is that Holly has not been hurt. She thinks she has a stomach infection. She has received an injection, has been given medication and is to be kept hydrated. If she does not improve in the next 24 hours we are to bring her back.