An Embarrassing Event

Today I took Matty to visit Dad but first we went to the Mid-Antrim Animal Sanctuary charity shop where I bought a denim skirt, a sexy fall off the shoulders angora sweater and a Nicole Fahri top all for the sum of £8. All poor Matty got was a Ruth Rendell and she was a bit sad about that. So as we were planning to have coffee at Ditty’s in Castledawson it was just so near to Magherafelt we thought we might as well hit its one and only charity shop – which was having a 20 pence an item clear out. I won’t go into the details of the furry hats, linen shirts and intellectual reading matter that I acquired but I only spent £2.

By this time we were pretty peckish so headed fast to Dawson City. At first things went well. We had baked potatoes and coffee to accompany. There wasn’t much conversation as we fell to the spuds but I was enjoying listening to the business meeting going on at the next table between the head honcho (Mr Ditty) and a bunch of suits.

Then drama erupts. Matty spills her coffee. None of it went on the suits or myself but the table and floor were swimming in it. My poor old Mum was mortified. Mr Ditty raises an imperious arm and hails moppers and wipers. Swarms of them arrived. Mr Ditty continues talking buns to the suits. Matty is nearly in tears, poor thing. While the mess was being cleaned up I spent my time soothing her, telling her “never mind, an accident, nobody died.” She was all calmed down and at her replacement cup of coffee when it dawned on me. I was going to tell her but I’d have had to shout (she’s deaf) and I didn’t want everyone to know. So I sloped off to the counter

“Excuse me. I need to speak to someone about the spill we had.”
“Yes. How can I help you?”
“Um. It’s a bit embarrassing. Can I tell you in private?”

With that I was led away by a nice, motherly woman.

“You know that spill we had?”
“Yes?”
“Well, I’d taken my tooth out. It was wrapped in a napkin.”
“Oh.”

It was at this point she started cackling. She headed over to the counter and informed all the staff (four of them) that my false tooth had been gathered up and thrown in the bin. There were roars of laughter all round. A customer sitting at the counter nearly choked on her coffee. The only person who didn’t get it was a Slovakian waitress but she’d only been here a few weeks.

So that was how I found myself behind the scenes at Ditty’s hoking through the bin bags. Two of them helped me and it was one of them found it.

It’s good to bring a smile to people’s faces even if Nelly’s own smile left something to be desired. A tooth.

So what with all that carry-on and the size of the tip I left I expect to be well remembered the next time I’m in Ditty’s of Dawson City.

My Funny Valentine

I Fall For Bert All Over Again

Have I ever told the world that I love Bert very much? Is it terribly corny that I’m telling you all on St Valentine’s Day? Bear with me while I explain.

I told Bert yesterday that I would not be getting him a card because it was all far too silly. Then I went to work saying “See you tomorrow then”

Work was OK. It wasn't exactly Chillage Village because the clientele were being their usual annoying, prat-like selves so I was perversely pleased when postie did not bring any of them cards this morning.

So perhaps it served me right later that morning when I slipped on a wet floor in the kitchen area and went on my beam end with a resounding crash. My backside, being very well padded, came to no harm but I really hurt my left wrist, which I’d thrown out to save myself. I also banged my right elbow and hurt my right wrist.

Hmmm. I wept a little and felt very sorry for myself then being an optimist started to look on the bright side. This was the perfect excuse not to have to clean the flat that had been vacated the previous day by a complete minger.

Then I started to feel sorry for myself again. I’m just about to have two weeks holiday and I am injured. Optimism surges again. Oh wise up – you’re not that injured, ignore it, it will go away. So I bravely continued with my work – administrative and support work only and I worked like a Trojan. Filed an accident report and a risk assessment, made sure I completed all the paperwork for the booking out and put the day in rightly. The wrist was pretty sore but not so bad that I felt the need to spend half the day in Antrim Area waiting for an x-ray. Driving home was a bit rough. It would have been OK if I could have done without reverse and fifth gear and I really wished I’d an automatic.

When I got home Bert was out. I noticed a large bag sitting on the kitchen table but I was too busy reheating pizza, saying hello to the dogs and feeding Harry de Cat to pay attention to it. It was from the chemist and I knew Bert had been to the dentist that morning and he always buys a shopful of dental hygiene products when he’s been to the dentist.

But at last I had a look. It was one of my favourite perfumes. And it was being hugged by a little teddy bear. Bert has often bought me perfume but in nearly 19 years this is the first time he’s ever bought me a soft toy because we reckon we’re far too sensible for that sort of sentimental nonsense. But … I’m melting inside. I haven’t even taken it out of its wrapper and I know I’ll treasure it forever. I’ll even knit it a jumper.

I still haven’t seen or spoken to Bert this St Valentine’s Day and I’m just about to tell the world – I love him so much. I love him despite the tin-whistling. It’s not because of the teddy bear. That just reminded me.

Site Meter

I put Site Meter on this blog last night. It was really easy to do even for a technophobe like me. Now I can keep a check on the embarrassingly few visitors that I have. Seems to me that people would far rather schlep over to Cully to see me in person than come visit my blog. And it's Bert who is the one they're really coming to see. I'm just the grumpy, glaring person in the corner who keeps sloping off to hit on her own blog.

Plain Stove

Flooded Pathway

Blackthorn

A Wet Walk

I've shaken off my winter languor at last and today was my fourth day in a row out walking. It rained heavily yesterday so the Maine was high and parts of the path were flooded. But this was no problem to a woman in wellies. The dogs get to have legitimate scunging and we all three get a break from the noise of Bert's infernal peeping on the tin whistle.

I need a new oven. I'm bound to be the only woman in Cully who cooks on a South African six-ring gas oven. They are not designed for fairy cakes and pizza - they're for simmering a nice stewed goat or haunch of buck. I suppose I'll have to wait until we move.

Bert and I are having a big dispute about fireplaces. Because the house originally had four fireplaces he wants a fireplace in the kitchen. And the sitting room. And in a conservatory. I don't really want a fireplace in the kitchen but have said yes on condition it is one of those stand-alone closed in stoves. Now we are arguing about the size of the hole that is to be built to accommodate this. We decided on 4 x 4 foot now we're arguing about the depth. I say 22 inches, he says less than this so that we can build a fireplace surrounding it. Oh get me a puke bucket quick. The reason I want one of those stoves is that the whole thing can be as unobtrusive as possible. I just know it will be rarely lit. The last thing I need is an empty grate full of orange peel and cigarette butts.

Now I'm nearly as old as Queen Camilla and I have some very old-fashioned ideas. I don't think men should be allowed in my kitchen at all unless they are eating, cooking the dinner or doing some other useful thing. They shouldn't be let to hang around kitchens when they are doing nothing or playing tin whistles. And providing sources of radiant heat is only encouraging them.

I'm for posting a few pictures now. Two are from my walk and one is of the type of fireplace I want. Isn't it lovely?

Long Fingers

Did you ever see such long fingers as the ones on yer woman. ET wouldn't have a look in.

Hello Poser

Jeremiah

Jerry and Nelly's Evening Oot

Returning from work on Tuesday last I spotted Jeremiah heading homewards with three heavy bags of rations. I turned the car and offered him a lift up home. Jerry is a long-time buddy of my Dad’s who used to help him on his farm a long time ago. Naturally Jerry was asking after Dad and said he’d love to go to see him so I offered to take him down. Hence our date.

I was a bit worried that Jerry would find it hard seeing Dad in a nursing home and unable to talk properly but I needn’t have. The two of them were so pleased to see each other. The lovely thing was the way Jerry was with Daddy. He did not talk down to him but gave him his complete attention. It was total man-to-man respect. Afterwards Jerry said he thought Dad looked great, much better than he’d expected. He also praised the nursing home saying that it seemed like a lovely, homely place. That’s always good for a daughter to hear.

We called at Aunt Bella’s pub where Jeremiah had a Cream of the Barley (Bella remembered his tipple) and a Guinness. I had a cup of tea with Aunt Em in the kitchen. It was a good outing. Jerry is great crack and told me some stories from the old days that I’d never heard.

This is one about my Granny. Jerry said Granny used to have great bantering sessions with a Protestant man who lived near the Creamery. As Jerry put it this boy was a great one for the Orange. Every Twelfth of July he’d put a Union Jack up at the Creamery but this particular year some skitters pulled it down on him. The next time he was in Granny’s pub he asked her if she knew anything about it and of course she said she didn’t know a thing. So he told her he was going to sicken them and get the flag painted on to the road. Granny said, “That’s great. We’ll be able to trample over it when we’re going to the chapel.”

Here’s another story from the old days. My father’s Uncle James was a medical student in Dublin when the great flu epidemic broke out. He was working in a hospital, caught the flu and died from it. All his effects were sent home to his parents and they included a genuine skeleton, which was part of a medical student’s kit at the time. For years this skeleton was stored in a box in the attic of the pub. Later it was moved out to one of the sheds. As children I remember us having great searches for it but all we ever found was the skull. It was pierced by a big hook and hinged at the jaw with wire. Now this is the bit that is hearsay but it’s a good story anyway. The ‘bare bones’ of it are true anyway.

Aunt B didn’t like this skeleton being around so she asked her son to bury it in the garden. But he only put it in a shallow grave. Later it was dug up by a neighbour’s dog who proudly took a human femur back to its owner. She, naturally, phoned the police – cue murder investigation. As I say it is hearsay. All I know is that as a family we prefer to keep our skeletons in the cupboard – except for me, of course.

Brown Eyed Girl

She's Got Squinty Een...

..so I have to post a picture that shows her beautiful brown eye I mean eyes.

Katy the Wag

Katkin's Comment

K sent this comment by email. It refers to the recent runaway scunging devil dogs. I liked it.

Mum, you should have better control or tell bert to entertain them.

They probably go because of the noise of his whistling. Love Katkins

I've Got A Date!

I have mentioned before that Thursday night is Music Night here at Nelly's house. Bert gathers up his crew of musicians and they go deedly-deeing and bluegrassing for hours on end. Then they play darts. Meanwhile I get total control of the TV remote and maybe while away a few minutes on the computer.

But this Thursday is different as I'm going out. I've got a date. I literally picked him up in the village on my way home from work this evening and we've planned a drive (to Randalstown), then we're calling in at Aunt Bella's for a drink. My date will be on the beer and I'll have tea as I'll be driving.

Now those of you who know me as a happily partnered woman might be surprised that I'm going out with another man, an older man, but it should reassure you all to know that Matty approves and Bert has no problem with it.

I'll let you know how it went after the event. After all I might get stood up. But if he doesn't, and if he lets me, I'll post a picture too.

Scunging Again

Those scunging devil dogs fecked off again. They only seem to do it when I'm at work so I suppose they must find Bert a bit dull to hang out with. Rosie has just returned and she is bogging. All her white bits are black. Paddy is still missing. Bert had been out looking for them for hours but had to give up when it got dark. It is very worrying because one of these days Johnny Farmer will shoot them.

Somebody Smart

Can somebody smart tell me what that computer language stuff is doing on my blog.

Bert's Malaise

Bert has been sad all week. He had horrible dental treatment on Tuesday, which left him feeling pretty rotten. He is still not smoking but is at the stage where he believes his life holds less meaning because he is not sucking in nicotine. I tell him that this will pass and he will rejoice in his tobacco free existence. But when Bert is down he thinks he will never know happiness, joy or contentment again. Even now when birds are singing, early flowers are blooming, the days are lengthening and global warming is underway, he believes he will never feel the heat of the sun again.

Meanwhile I have had a good week. Kerry Sis has been staying with Matty this week and I have seen a good bit of her. We met for lunch on Monday, went to Belfast on Tuesday. On Thursday we went for a walk and yesterday we met up for pizza. Z&D and Bert were also there. This morning Z, Kerry Sis and I went to the Saturday market. I only bought fish and oranges. This afternoon I return to work which will be nice for Bert as it is a strain for a pessimist to have to hang out with an optimist. He will be able to play his whistle to his heart’s content and hang around the house in dirty boots. Later he will kick of his boots and cook fish. Perhaps Ian and Swisser will visit and they can sit around talking keek until way past their bedtimes.

If anyone has any practical suggestions on how to cheer Bert up feel free to advise. His likes include parties, days and nights out and general buldoys involving drink and silly talk.