Tomorrow, K and I are off on one of our Adventures.  We haven’t been on an Adventure for quite some time and this one that we are embarking on tomorrow is particularly exciting for me personally.  So just for a bit of fun I have decided that  I am not going to tell you where we are going and how we intend to get there, you are going to have to guess both the destination AND the mode of transport by a few clues given in this post and also some judicious searching using

Here are the clues.

1.  Railway tours?  (U.K)

2.  A ‘flyer’ but its not a plane.  

3.  We journey with a Duchess who spouts a great deal of hot air! (6233)

4. This seaside town is one of the few in the UK to still have donkey rides on the beach.

5.  This town contains a  very ‘round, plump’ Museum of Geology.  

Right!  Enough clues as it should be fairly easy to figure out both where we are going tomorrow and how we are getting there. Unfortunately there will be no prizes I’m afraid as K and I tend to be  always skint owing to all these adventures we are always embarking  on, and although we did discuss sending the first five correct answers a bag of Randoms each, unfortunately we have since succumbed to temptation and eaten them all, so that idea has had to be abandoned.  Sorry!

TG     Answers via the usual channels i.e Comments.

Yesterday I had one of those days.  You know the sort I mean,  we all get them from time to time.  A day where you end up wishing you had stayed in bed and not bothered to get up out of it.

It began well enough, with lot’s of promise.  K and I were due to visit the hairdressers at 11.45am.  One of us for her grey roots covering (me) and the other for a wash, cut and blow dry. (K)  The first downer began when the postman called. In amongst all the other post was a letter addressed to me from a Far Grange Park and Golf Club regarding my recent enquiry about Holiday Home ownership at their Park at Skipsea, North Yorkshire.  Nothing odd in that you might think apart from one small detail.  I have never ever contacted them about holiday home ownership! 

Oh yes folks, it has been a dream of mine for years to own a holiday home, since we used to take the kids when they were younger to one of the many Haven Holiday camps dotted about the UK.  I fell in love with them, and always vowed that if ever I came into any money I would buy one so that we could go away every year for weeks on end with the children.  However that is all it has ever been, a dream.  Why would this Granny, skimping all the time as she does on a state pension, enquire about owning  a holiday home?  And in Skipsea of all places?  (No offence to any residents of Skipsea who happen to be reading this post, its probably a lovely place, and certainly the enclosed brochure of the Park and amenities made the entire place look very tempting, but IF this Gran was ever in the position of having enough money to buy a holiday home, it would definitely be sited somewhere in Cornwall!)

Yet there it was, my name, my full address complete with invite to go and visit the Park to choose which holiday home I would like to purchase!  Now when strange occurrences happen to me like this, I tend to think its almost like someone is ‘rubbing salt into the wound’ and I immediately went off into one of my ‘if only I could win the lottery’ daydreams as I paid a visit to the Park site and took a peek at some of the lodges and Mobile Homes available. ‘sigh’

Dragging myself rather reluctantly from my daydream we set off to the hairdressers. I was attended to first, and whilst I was sat waiting for tne colour to take, K came over and showed me a pic of a hairstyle on her camera that she had taken up there with her.

“Yes that’s nice” I said approving of the short but neat style in the viewfinder. Then our hairdresser began attending to her. I was sat over the other side of the salon. I saw K say something to her, then she began to shave K’s hair. She had shown the hairdresser a completely different hairstyle to the one that she showed me, and the upshot of this is that she ended up with all her hair shave off…… No big deal I hear you all say.  She is 29 years old . She has a perfect right to choose how to have her own hair.  Hmmm.

I always dreamt of having a girl.  My daughter in my mind would resemble Shirley Temple with gorgeous long locks cascading down her back.  She would be feminine, pink, love wearing dresses and fluffy things. ‘sigh’  The only time that K has ever worn a dress was when she was a bridesmaid for my Nephew 20 odd years ago!  And she hated it!  I have never EVER been able to persuade her to grow her hair long. This I don’t mind as I tend to always have mine fairly short as well, but all shaved!  She looks like a boy.  I already have two boys.  But I was upset with her because of the ‘sneaky’ way that she did it, showing me a perfectly presentable hairstyle that was more like she usually has it done, and then showing our hairdresser an entirely different picture of her preferred ‘shave it all off’ look. ‘Sigh’

We exited the hairdressers, and the downward spiral continued . We waited 55 minutes for a bus to Halifax.  FIFTY FIVE MINUTES!  This wait was made infinitely  worse by having to endure lot’s of gawky stares from motorists and their passengers as they slowed down at the roadwork traffic lights just next to the bus stop.  Why do people in cars always grin like demented idiots at you as you stand there waiting for a bus?  They’ll get their comeuppance when all the oil runs out and they realise they’ve lost the use of their legs!  Humph! Not only that, but one minute I was roasted prompting me to take my raincoat off, then the next minute a breeze seemed to spring up, prompting me to put my raincoat back on again! I must have gone through  that manoeuvre several times during the course of our 55 minutes wait. So much so that I began to get on my own nerves…’sigh’

At this point and by the time we boarded the bus, I was really fed up.  Arriving in Halifax, we hurried to Argos, picked up a new catalogue, and then intending to go to K’s favourite eating establishment, made our way up to McDonald’s but it was cram jam packed with people queuing for a meal, so we had to then return all the way back down to Burger King.  (Actually I am beginning to prefer Burger King, their chips are always crisp on the outside, but soft on the inside, whereas MickyD’s chips can often break your teeth.)  Following that we went on to Marks and Sparks where I bought five t-shirts for my newly acquired third son  daughter to add to her already considerable t-shirt wardrobe. Then we made our way to the bus station, but despite making a valiant dash towards our stand once I realised that one was due to depart, we still managed to see it pull out and disappear.  What is it with us two and buses?  ‘Sigh’

“Right!” I exclaimed to K. “That does it!  I’m off to the shop to buy some Random’s!” Nothing better in my opinion if the day in question is determined to lay you low, throw everything it can at you, trip you up and knock you back down than stuffing your face with calorie laden Random’s!  So my dear readers, I didn’t last long in my resolve to stay clear of them did I?

TG 

Conversations with K, or how to become dippier by the day.

Here for your delight are a sample of conversations with my lovely daughter this week All included in this blog to demonstrate why I have arrived at the current mental state of being slightly Gaga, round the bend, or two cans  short of a six pack.

Tuesday 21.10pm.

K enters the room where I am trying to watch the latest escapades on Big Brother.

“Mum, after we have been to the hairdressers on Saturday, can we go to Halifax?”

Me. “Why?” innocent and perfectly reasonable question considering that normally after a two hour stunt spent in the hairdressers without any food  K is usually anxious to high tail it to the nearest McDonalds for a fill up.

“Cos the new Argos catalogue is out.”

Me sounding rather reluctant. “We’ll see.”

“Or  we could go on Friday!” K ventures as an alternative suggestion.

“Why what day is it out?”

“On Saturday.”  

Yesterday 15.05pm.

K enters room where I am busy at the keyboard (that makes a change!)

“Mum, will you spell me ‘hostectomy’  ?????? (She means hysterectomy, all because she hates being a woman, and plans to ask our doctor if she can have everything removed, either next time we are in the surgery, or alternatively once I have kicked the bucket, whichever comes sooner.) and also oterus?” (uterus)  Hmm, she must be putting all this down in her daily diary I thought to myself.

As  I wrote the spellings down on the scrap of paper that she presented to me, I couldn’t help thinking its a  good job that I didn’t set up that Space for her to use on Windows Live!  And here I must add that K thinks I am some sort of walking Encyclopaedia with knowledge about everything under the sun including an added spelling ability to rival any dictionary, unlike my two son’s who would rather die first before asking me or consulting me about anything at all.

This Morning 08.15am.

Me sat at the computer keyboard . (can you see a pattern emerging here readers?)

K arrives at my side and promptly thrusts her camera in front of my face which shows in its display a rather large spider crawling up a wall.

“What sort of spider is this Mum?”  (add to my necessary repertoire being a naturalist as well as everything else)

Me horrified and ready to launch myself out of my computer chair and grab the nearest broom, cloth, etc to kill said dangerous looking spider with, “ whereabouts is it? Is it in your bedroom?”

“No, its not in my bedroom!  Its  a spider from ‘Jungle to Jungle’! You are silly Mum!”    “Why do spiders have three eyes?”  ?????

“I don’t know! ” I answer, trying to recover my normal heart rate from the previous shock of thinking my daughter had a resident Tarantula in her bedroom. “I think they have far more than three eyes!  All the better to see you in triplicate I suppose!” (If you don’t know the answer to one of K’s numerous enquiries then make a blind stab at it is my philosophy.)

And that’s it folks for now. Well, until the next enquiry……

TG

Following on from yesterdays post, where I confessed that K and I had a penchant for Rountree’s Randoms, and also admitted that previously we were addicted to some squidgy snails which had inside their shells some gorgeous soft jelly, I thought that owing to the enormous interest from fellow confectionary lovers everywhere, it is necessary to include some more details (purely intended you understand for those of you who might be reading this blog and unfortunately reside in a country where said confectionary can not be purchased or sampled.)

In order to carry out a fair demonstration  and prove irrevocably that each Rountree’s Random packet actually does contain a Random choice of sweets inside (well apart from the Ice Cream Cones which for some reason seem to be found in every packet and are therefore NOT random at all) we have had to purchase two packets to compare the contents within. 

So that you can also see ‘in the flesh so to speak’ the aforementioned Squidgy snails with the lovely soft shells filled with jelly which previously were first in line in our sweets to be devoured list, we have also had to purchase a bag of those as well, purely so that you can all see what they look like.

Once all screenshots of said sweets have been taken for demonstration purposes, said sweets will then be shared equally amongst this blog editor and her assistant. Said editor feels that she can partake of the aforementioned confectionary, as she and her assistant have been vigorously exercising this morning for a whole hour, burning up numerous calories in the process, and can therefore afford to risk ingesting a few calories in the name of providing more information for this blogs interested readers.

For those who might be interested in which random’s were  randomly found in the two packets purchased for demonstration purposes, they were as follows:

9 Ice cream cones.  1 bow tie, 1 Pint glass of beer, 1 monkeys crown, 1 trophy, 2 button, 1 bus, 2 Alarm clocks, 3 Paw prints, 2 Hot Air balloons, 1 Rubber duck, 1 jug, 1 mushroom, 1 chess pawn and 1 that I couldn’t make out what it was supposed to be. (Must have been a random mould.)  For all those of you who couldn’t give a monkeys toss (wasn’t one of those inside I can assure you) about what the packets of Rountree’s Random’s contained  then move along to another Space where you might find the subject matter more interesting.

For more details of exiting Random stuff that other Rountree’s Random eaters get up to watch this video! (and realise that this Gran is not alone. There are more of us living here in the U.K,  many more…..) You may also be interested in the Rountree’s Random’s website itself which aptly demonstrates  to all who visit it the types of persons who tend to be devouring this confectionary. Take a look  HERE.

TG         P.S.  Will K be wanting the Rountree’s Random t-shirt?  Watch this Space to find out!

Rountree’s Randoms!

At the moment we can’t get enough of them! And the adverts really sum up me in  a nutshell………I tend to talk a load of gibberish as well, and I don’t need to be eating Randoms as the time either.

Trouble is around this neck of the woods as usual, its finding them!  Tesco’s don’t stock them, our local estate shop doesn’t have them, the only shop that currently have them for sale is the newsagents in town. It then makes it terribly tempting to buy quite a few packets at a time but……….that guarantees that this Granny will then scoff them all at once and I am trying to lose some weight…….K and I have spent many a frustrated hour recently trying to track them down.  We even went hunting for them in York when we spent the day there, as we fancied some for the train journey home.

So if you are reading my blogs and see strange words appearing randomly in amongst the story that don’t seem to make any sense, you’ll know what this Granny is currently devouring as she sits at the keyboard…..

Makes a change I suppose from the squidgy jelly snails we were crazy about previously…..

P.S. We like the ice cream cones the best!

TG  

Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you,

happy birthday dear Messenger, Happy Birthday to you!

Congratulations to all concerned. Looking forward to the next ten years!

TG  

Today we have been on a walk with a difference.  A  walk around the Yorkshire Sculpture Park  Now funnily enough I had recently seen some photographs online which had been taken at the Sculpture park and thought ‘I’d love to go there!’ but I hadn’t realised just how close it is to where we live, and so I was very pleased that this week it had been chosen as our venue for our Saturday walk   As always we went there with some of the other members of C.R.E.W , and K and I were picked up this morning by R and G at 09.45am because it takes roughly three quarters of an hour to drive there.

When we arrived at the Park, we were the first ones there so we waited for the other members who were also going on the walk  to arrive. There were only seven of us taking part on this walk, as some of the other members were on holiday and others thought it was too far to get to.

Once we were all assembled, we waited for the Mini Bus to arrive, as we planned to begin our walk at the far side of the Park which you could see in the distance. No Mini bus arrived, but instead a Land Rover pulled up, and one of the Park staff alighted and told us all that the Mini bus had broken down and  so we would all have to climb into the Land Rover instead . This was no mean feat, especially for K who had to be given a hefty ‘push up’ from behind in order to climb up into the back.

Eventually we arrived at the other end of the Park, and after entering the Longside Gallery to view the sculptures and paintings on show inside we then began our walk.  The weather was being very kind to us as showers of rain had been forecast, but in order to  foil this prediction I had cunningly brought along my brolly! (Guaranteed to keep the smallest spots of rain at bay) Our walk took us through a small wood called the Round Wood which houses the Outclosure, a strange stone built structure which has no entrance to it, therefore inhibiting you from being able to see what’s inside it. Of course this prompted a couple of the men to begin jumping up and down trying vainly to see what was inside.

We continued on and next we arrived at the Basket,  a rather strange sort of small tower complete with spiral staircase inside (K’s favourite climb!) The whole tower  is constructed entirely of metal and mesh. We all climbed up the spiral staircase (luckily for K, only 15 steps high) and peeked through the mesh at the fantastic views before making our way down again to continue the walk There were actually two walls inside made of mesh, one inside the other with a small area between them both, and of course this prompted K and I to make our way in-between them both with the result that K (complete with her usual backpack) nearly became stuck at one point!

Along this part of the route are numerous old fallen trees which are surrounded by stone walls. These are referred to on the map that we all had a copy of as the Hanging Trees but why I haven’t  a clue because you certainly couldn’t hang anything from them in their current prone and fungus covered state!  We were now slowly descending via a path through the woods, made fairly muddy by  yesterdays downpour, and this also included some steps to negotiate.  Eventually this descent brought us to the Dam Head bridge which crosses the end of the Lower Lake and the Dam. 

The intention here was to now make our way back to the main Centre for our lunch via the Lower Park route but this was inaccessible, and so we had to make the ascent through the Henry Moor in the Country Park, and this steady climb was quite tiring necessitating frequent stops and rests on the way up. We had passed lots of ducks during this part of the walk, both in the water and out of it, and I remarked that I had never seen as many ducks gathered together in my entire life.  Eventually we reached the Main Centre exhausted (and hungry!) where we all sat down to our meal. K and I had the chef’s special, Meat and Potato Pie with potatoes and green vegetables (me) whilst K just had the Pie with roast potatoes (no green vegetables because this contained peas which she insists she can’t eat.)

The other members of the group then decided to go back home, but we decided to stay with R and G and have a look around the Formal Gardens and the other Galleries there. Lot’s of the sculptures can also be found in the grounds of the gardens. When we had finished our walk around the Garden Galleries, we then made our way back to the restaurant and enjoyed a refreshing drink and an ice cream sat outside on the small terrace area of the restaurant admiring the stunning views over the countryside.

Eventually it was time to make our way back to the car for the drive home. This walk was a very different one to the usual Saturday walks which tend to be made in our local area. Because it took place in the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, which afforded a beautiful walk through not only some stunning countryside but also littered with very interesting exhibits and sculptures, I rate today as one of my most enjoyable walks that we have made, and I plan to return there again, next time perhaps with J in tow. Now where is that Metro route planner? More pictures of the day in my SkyDrive and at the bottom of my Space.

TG 

Yesterday in one of my group discussions over on LiveSoapbox, one of the members confessed that if she uses Writer to compose a blog entry, the size of the text that she sees in the compose window inside Writer is not the same size as when she views the completed article up on her Space.

This is  a very strange anomaly to me, because I have honestly never encountered this. So in order to show Mandy just what I see when I am down at my desktop beavering away on a new post, and what I actually see once it is published, I intend to make this post which will include lots on lovely fonts of differing sizes with a picture ‘snagged’ from the screen of the Writer compose area complete with the post before it is published, plus another screen grab of the same post once published.

The only difference between my set up and Mandy’s is that she still uses XP whereas I am using Windows 7 as my OS.  She does have Internet Explorer 8 on board though, but I am not sure whether or not this makes any difference whatsoever to the text size that you observe in any of your posts once you have published them to your Space.

In fact, if I view my blog post on Spaces in Flock (which in essence is based on Firefox) it still looks exactly the same size of text as the unpublished version sat on my desktop in the compose screen of Writer. So with no further ado, here are some fonts of different sizes so that Mandy can fully compare the pictures of Before publishing and After publishing.

This is lovely Black Adder to make it look ‘oldie worldie’

Fancy some Amienne? Looks good to me!

Or how about some plain old fashioned Ariel at 18pt?

Or how about some blue highway in D type 36?

I like Boopee cos its cute and different even if no one can actually read it! 18pt.

Bradley hand is another favourite because it looks like its been written by hand, perfect for diary type blogs. 24pt.

Chiller! Oooh! Perfect for Sean methinks! 36pt.

And here’s good old Comic Sans at 12pt. Hope its not too small!

Edwardian Script is another ‘oldie worldie’ font. I like it! 36pt.

One of my favourites, Gabriola in 24pt.

How about using some ‘hurry up’ for a change? 12pt.

Another of my personal favourites , Kristen ITC. 12pt.

Lucida Handwriting, love it! As big as they come in Writer at 36pt.

Got a narrow blog, try Matisse ITC at 18pt.

Fancy writing your blogs in this font! Hard to read isn’t it? More for a heading me-thinks Its Planet benson 2 at 14pt.

Pristina is another favourite font of mine. This is at 18pt.

So that’s about it Mandy! These are just a small showing of the text fonts on offer inside Writer with different sizes set. Now I am going to publish to my blog but first I will insert a grab of this page (in writer) and then a screen grab of the page in my blog once its published. I will show them side by side and one above the other so that you can compare.

TG

Its been another fun packed start to the day here at the Technogran household,  kicking off as it did with the dawn chorus waking me from my slumber at 05.30am, so I took advantage of the situation, stripped my bed, washed the bedding and then noting the clear blue skies and gentle breeze  outside I saved my tumble drier from eating into my electricity bill and hung  them out on the line to dry.  Hmm, so far, so good.  K eventually emerged from her hidey-hole in the box room,  where she asked me what time I had been in the shower (for her diary in which  every little incident gets recorded and which goes some way to explaining  why I always have to buy her a huge page to a day one.)

Eventually showered and dressed, she stood in her bedroom (the aforementioned box room that has to suffice as her bedroom) talking to the door.  The door declined to reply hence the main reason why she was talking to it, no arguments.  I had breakfast (K doesn’t eat breakfast, she insists that she is not a breakfast person, but soon compensates for missing out breakfast by spending the rest of the day after 10.00am constantly eating) 

“Who are you talking to?” I enquired as I manoeuvred myself down the stairs with the bedding in the basket ready for hanging outside.

“The door of course!” came the reply as if I had asked a stupid question.  Eventually she left for day care, and I busied myself with making my bed and other exciting jobs around the flat.  Some time later I went outside to check on the washing.  Hmm, that’s strange I thought, why is there some yellow ‘sticker tape’ pasted to the next door downstairs flat?  Because we have never ever seen hair nor head of anyone who currently resides in there,  I knew I was fairly safe to wander over and take a closer look in order to read what was on the sticker tape.

Plastered across the sticker in large letters it said DANGER. GAS SERVICE OVERDUE. Cripes ! Now owing to the proximity of this flat (next door to us) this is guaranteed to cause this blog author a sleepless night as she tosses and turns waiting for the impending gas explosion to occur!  Whose brilliant idea is this to plaster these warning stickers all over the door in order to bring to the attention of the current resident that their boiler needs servicing?  Wouldn’t a simple note in large red letters pushed through the letterbox have sufficed? 

And here is the dilemma.  We have never seen anyone enter or exit that flat since some curtains and blinds appeared after the flat became vacant. What if there is actually no-one there?  Will the Gas servicemen leave them there to haunt me forever so that I can’t get to sleep in case we are suddenly catapulted though the roof?  Or will they eventually break in with a hammer and chisel (or whatever they have to hand at the time.)

Besides which, as this resident has never to my knowledge set foot outside since moving in, not even for a breath of fresh air, they are hardly likely to notice any of this stuck on their door are they? So to sum up my day so far, its been a day of doors, beginning with daughters earnest conversation with her door, followed by next doors sticker taped DANGER door. And its only dinner time!  Hmm, I’d better keep my beady eyes peeled for any more door activity for the rest of the day!

TG  (close the door on your way out please.  )

Not that I think for one minute that any of my readers might conceivably think I exaggerate slightly when giving a few of the reasons why I’m slightly round the bend, but just as extra proof that is has been outside influences to blame for the rather sad state of mymind, I thought that you might all like to see for yourselves the current content of my beloved daughters camera.

I bought her this camera for her birthday a few years ago because she had been taking part in a photography course down at the Adult Education Centre, and apart from the occasional cutting off of a subjects head (usually me) she does seem to have got the hang of it. That is apart from the odd photographs that she chooses to take. Thank goodness for digital cameras with their ability to fit lots of photographs on a memory card which can be so easily deleted if they are poor quality.  

She is currently scouring the Internet (oh yes, as soon as she realized that you can search for almost anything online she ‘twigged’ it and uses it constantly to search for, in no particular order, short hairstyles (to print out to show the hairdresser) shark t-shirts with price, pictures of sharks, Music CD’s that she wants me to buy her, etc, etc.  When she finds them online (she’s a Google fan, sorry Bing) she then takes a photograph of the screen with her camera, so it tends to be full of screen shots of sharks, t-shirts, short hairstyles, Music CD titles with their price. (don’t ask! I still haven’t quite figured out her motive for this, unless its to show someone at Day Care or keep wafting in front of my face as a reminder of what she wants for her birthday)

View Full Album

She also likes to take pictures of herself in various hats, caps and disguises such as a horrible ‘wolf’ mask complete with matching hairy hands that she insisted I buy her one Halloween, this to scare the ‘trick or treaters’ away.  (see accompanying photo) All this has reminded me of one very embarrassing incident that occurred back in the old days when all of our cameras took film that had to be developed down at your local shop.  I can’t remember how old her and her brother were at that particular time,  at a guess I’ll say J was seven and she was 10.  I had taken a film in to be developed at our favourite shop. When I went to collect it, I thought that the assistants were looking at me strangely.

Exiting the shop I decided to look at them all as you tend to do,  and to my horror there were two photographs showing both of my children ‘mooning’ to the camera. They had taken each other bending down with bare bottom exposed for all to see!  I was horrified!  Furtively looking around in case the shop assistants had called the police to cart me off to jail accused of being some sort of child molester, I hurried home to confront my two offspring about it.  Of course all they could do was laugh! No wonder the girl assistants in the film processing shop had been looking at me so strangely!

So all I can say is thank goodness for digital camera’s, memory cards and that wonderful word ‘Delete’

TG 

Or one explanation why I’m slightly Gaga.

Here are some facts about my daughter who is Down’s Syndrome and who occupies this rather small flat with me. Everyone who meets her falls in love with her, but actually living with her 24/7 is a slightly different story to the persona that she paints to the outside world on short acquaintance, and so does go someway to explaining to my two readers why I appear to be slightly ‘round the bend’ or if you prefer, ‘three cans short of a six pack.’ Maybe I might be afforded some sympathy from you both as you read out these ten facts about my lovely daughter that otherwise were you to ‘bump into her’ in the street you would have no inkling of.

1. She loves Sharks. She is fascinated by them and has been so since watching the film Jaws as a youngster. Therefore she has me scouring the internet looking for Jaws t-shirts. She already owns several thousand (slight exaggeration) I think she likes to wear them to frighten small children away who always seem fascinated by her and therefore tend to hang around her like bees to a honey pot.
2. She is equally fascinated by Spiders (no t-shirts though) and despite being terrified of them, has watched Arachnophobia several thousand times. (another slight exaggeration but not by much)
3. Favourite film ‘The Goonies’ made by Richard Donner and starring one of her favourite actors Sean Asten. She has watched this several thousand times. (No exaggeration) She knows off by heart every word spoken by every actor in it from the opening sequence to the end.
4. She lives only for food.  She thinks that she will keel over and die if she misses out one single meal.  So every day consists of questions such as “What are we having for dinner?” then as we are sat eating our dinner, “What are we having for tea?” The day is then brought to  a close by the inevitable “What are we having tomorrow?” as we sit down to tea.
5. Because of the latter, she has taken  complete charge of writing down the shopping list which contains all the food that she requires for at least the next few days. There is never anything down on the list for me. I am obviously expected to starve to death.
6. She is a typical Downs in that 99% of the time she moves at a snails pace but… there are two occasions when she moves so fast that blink and you would miss it. a) When the postman arrives she is down the steps in a flash, and b) When a shopkeeper is giving you any change. Its miraculously in her pocket before you can say “Thank you!”
7. She spends 99% of her time (when not watching the Goonies and/or Arachnophobia) sat muttering to herself on the toilet. Its her ‘debating’ throne, where she irons out any problems that may have bugged her during the day, or yesterday, or the day before or even last week.
8. She talks to herself all the time. Now this wouldn’t be so bad in itself, I occasionally have been known to do this especially when ‘getting something off my chest’ but with K its all day, every day . I have asked her to whisper but unfortunately this ability seems to have slipped her by.  She simply can’t do it, and all you can hear is a sort of ‘sphst, mmhste, mbfits , mahehset’ going on in the background.  I could put my ear plugs in I suppose and try vainly to regain some sort of sanity.
9. As a young girl growing up, she point blank refused to have dolls. She had a pram (which she once threatened to bring down on top of her younger brothers head when he had been teasing her for days)  but she hated dolls. She wanted only Boglins. If you haven’t a clue or can’t remember what they were , they were horrid looking rubbery faces which you could put your hand inside and manipulate them into looking even more grotesque.  She loved them and ended up owning every one of them.  
10. She refuses point blank to grow her hair long and insists on having it as short as possible at all times with the result that everyone we meet thinks she’s a male. (much to my annoyance as she is my only daughter after all, and before I had any children, I used to dream of having  a Shirley Temple look alike with gorgeous long ringlets down her back.) As soon as I have departed this mortal coil, she will no doubt book an appointment and have it all shaved off.

So, does my strangeness and seemingly odd ramblings now make some sense? Can you begin to understand  why I am considered to be slightly Gaga?  There are other contributing factors to be taken into consideration of course, my darling daughter is just a small  portion of the whole that has turned me into the gibbering wreck that I have now become. Bless her.

TG 

I can’t seem to make my mind up about anything these days! I have become so indecisive that its beginning to really get me down. Quite when all this began I haven’t a clue to be honest. Was I like this before the menopause or has it reared its ugly head since then? Is it part of my depression or am I slowly going gaga? Trouble is I have such a lousy memory that I can’t pinpoint how long I have had this ‘shall I, shan’t I’ syndrome present in my usual repertoire of things that annoy me about myself.

An example of this is my blog. I have as many blogs floating around on the internet as most people have had hot dinners. Two are on Windows Live, one for my Geeky/Technical stuff and the other supposedly as a sort of online dairy. But I also do a duplicate post of that one to my long time blog on LiveJournal.  So that makes  three so far.  Recently  I have been trying to make up my mind whether or not to actually move to either Blogger or Wordpress and close down some of my other blogs, but…..I would then need to find some way to gather readers, I have quite a following for both of my blogs on Windows Live, and to be honest, although it is there primarily to sift out the spammers, I hate the hurdles you have to jump in order to make a comment on Blogger!

You can’t win can you? Make it very easy for everyone to comment on your blog and risk tons of spam a la Windows Live Spaces, or verify everyone with ‘Capcha’ to keep the spammers out.  Decisions decisions! I know this, I can’t keep up with all these blogs! Something's gotta give but what to do?  And why oh why can I never seem to come to a final decision about anything these days?

Even if I do make a choice I am then forever wracked with ‘did I make the right choice or not?’ and then inevitably end up changing my mind! What’s the answer before I drive myself completely insane?

Will I, won’t I? Shall I, shan’t I? Left or right? Black or White? Hot or cold? Or am I just old? You decide!

TG

Had a short visit by prodigal long lost son yesterday. I refer to him as prodigal son because the only time I ever see him (and he only lives up the road from us) is when he is after something/wants me to do him a favour/ wants to borrow one of my Xbox 360 games or we have persuaded him to accompany us on one of out jaunts around the UK which cost him absolute zilch.

He arrived about 2.30pm. This is unusual in itself as he normally sleeps all through daylight hours and is awake only at night. (His inbuilt body clock works in entirely the  opposite timescale to the rest of us, and so he only functions during the hours of 10.00pm to 06.00am in the morning.  Sort of a similar body clock that vampires have I suppose. You know, nocturnal)

‘Hmm’ I thought to myself as I opened the door after calling out my usual  “Who is it?” from the top of the stairs before bothering to descend, ‘wonder what he wants?’  Sounds cynical I know, but as this is usually the only reason that he shows his face without being cajoled by some treat out or other bribe into making  a visit, and as he was already in bother and could expect a  ‘ticking off’ from me because he had insisted that he was definitely  going to accompany us on our walk on Saturday morning, and was definitely  on his way down to our flat but never showed up, (which incidentally after years and years of experiencing the heart rendering realization that my youngest son is about as dependable as the weather forecast)  meant that we set off without him.

“ I came Mum, but you had gone!” was his excuse. Hmm.  Another bone of contention. Does he think that if I say we are setting off at 09.45am in order to meet up with the others, that we are then going to hang around forever waiting for him to show his face on the off chance that he might really mean what he says?

“Well, what do you want?” I enquired teasingly as he ascended the stairs. “What makes you think that I want something? Can’t I just visit my Mum to see how she is, without wanting something?” he retorted sounding quite annoyed with me as I followed behind him up the stairs.  Hmm, perhaps I have misjudged my youngest son and he has a definite need to know that his old Mums still alive and kicking!  Has he suddenly become attentative and concerned about the state of  my well being after all these years?  Son makes his way into the living room where I am currently on the computer surfing my favourite websites, and we begin a conversation about video games or something of that nature.  After about two minutes have elapsed he says

“Can I ask you a favour?” Ahah!  What did I tell you? “Will you print me out two application forms for Tesco’s?”  What the?   If I have printed out one Tesco application form previously for my youngest, I have printed out a  thousand!  And after all that use of paper and printing ink, was he offered a job?  In fact my printer must know that form off by heart, its a wonder its not imprinted (pun) in its memory!  Added to that, its a stupid form to print out into the bargain. Its sort of like a booklet, but you can’t print it out as such because some of the pages inside it are full  A4 page and yet others need to be folded in half.  Plus this time he wants two of the blighters!  To rub salt into the wound, or alternatively to make Mum’s blood boil,  they have their own computer up there!  With a printer!  No ink Mum because its so expensive to buy. (Son’s explanation why he always has to resort to asking Mum, who somehow has to manage buying inks for her printer from her measly state pension.)

“Why do you want two?  Are you applying  for a day job and one at night as well?” (Sarcastic retort from Mum)

“No!  Of course not!  One’s for M.”  What?  Bloody cheek!  I’ll be asked to print out stuff for every Tom, Dick and Harry and their dogs next!  Honestly, who’d be a Mum?  Its the hardest job in the world in my opinion!  In fact my Mum used to recite a Yorkshire poem for my sister and I when we were children about Mums and we used to love to hear her say it. I have managed to track it down on the internet. Its from the book ‘Yorkshire Lyrics’ by John Hartley, and here is some of it. You have to read it in a broad Yorkshire dialect because that is how it is all spelt.

A’a, dear! what a life has a mother!  At leeast, if they’re hamper’d like me,

Thro’ mornin’ to neet ther’s some bother, An’ ther will be, aw guess, wol aw dee.

Ther’s mi chap, an misen, an’ six childer, six o’th’ roughest, aw think, under th’ sun

Aw’m sartin sometimes they’d bewilder Old Joab, wol his patience wor done.

They’re i’ mischief i’ ivery corner, An’ ther tongues they seem niver at rest.

Ther’s one shaatin’ “Little Jack Horner,” An’ another “The realms o’ the blest.”

You can download the whole Yorkshire Lyrics book HERE if you want to read it all, but I warn you that even for a Yorkshire lass such as myself, it is quite difficult to decipher it!  But when you read between the lines, you can see that our role of being a Mum hasn’t really changed much at all……

TG 

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Funny isn’t it how we come to know our children so well that we can read them like a book? I suppose that most Mum’s can say that about all of their offspring or even their husbands/partners, but its especially true when you have a child with special needs. I am pretty sure that my daughter is fancying someone who attends her Day Care Centre on a Tuesday. The clues are all there.

Yesterday she went dressed in fetching red sleeveless top with navy blue pedal pushers, hair all washed and neatly combed then covered in a FLOCK peaked cap worn backwards (as she tends to do) This was then accented by a ton of perfume liberally sprayed in every corner and area of her body visible to man.

Today she is back in the usual boring tatty t-shirt that she has owned since 19 nought blob, with an equally tatty pair of jeans, hair is just left messy and untidy,  and judging by the lack of lingering and overpowering smell around the flat, no perfume was applied at all. A dead giveaway? Probably a complete stranger would have cottoned on by now!

“Have you got a boyfriend on a Tuesday?” I asked innocently as she did her usual pirouette in front of me for my perusal and approval.

“No! Have I heck!” she replied indignantly, “I’ve more sense!” 

TG

I will keep signing up to things!  I have just joined Meebo!  What’s Meebo?  Well it supposedly amalgamates  all of your messenger accounts into one place. (I think!)   What’s wrong with that I hear you ask.  Surely that is more convenient for any avid messenger user to be able to access ALL of their Messenger accounts in one place?  Well therein lies the main problem because I hardly ever use Messenger!  My grandchildren use it avidly of course, thereby affording you all some explanation as to why it is installed on my computer in the first place, and which over time has led me to arrive at the conclusion that the use of Messenger tends to be rather age related in my humble opinion.  (cue all those readers over the age of 50 who are huge messenger fans hastily berating  me for making this generalized statement regarding Messenger.)

They delight in sending me funny graphics doing silly things.  No words, just graphics, skeletons pulling faces, cats walking across the screen, etc.  I try vainly to keep them ‘on track’ by hastily messaging them back using only words, but all I get in return is more graphics striding across the screen!   When they do occasionally relent and use words, its in a completely different language to the one that I tend to use, peppered with strange words such as LOL or  KK which I don’t understand. Then I have to send a message asking them to translate the meaning of these strange words for me.    I also hate the way that when I am busy doing something (usually signing up for some other website, or trying vainly to recall a username or password) I am inevitably interrupted by a message from someone, which then causes me to completely lose track of what I was about to do whilst I message them back with a reply. Then I  usually end up retaliating by setting my status to ‘offline’ which really negates the necessity of having Messenger installed in the first place.

I really must stop joining this and that online!  For a start, I have a lousy memory. Every time I join up to this application or that website, I have to provide another ‘username’ and another password, which you can guarantee that when I eventually get around to making use of that service or site, I will have forgotten either one or the other.   I do write them down if I remember to do so, usually on some scrap of paper that I may have to hand, but then whilst tidying up some time later you can bet your bottom dollar that I will throw said scrap of paper away without realizing its significance.  This has resulted over a period of time in my being a member of practically every site and service available on the Internet but unable to make any use of them!  I have absolutely tons of e-mails saved from different sites which contain the URL needed to reset my password/username, in fact I could start a collection.

I’m exactly the same with e-mail addresses.  I had one before I even owned a computer, but since then I have somehow accumulated six!  Six!  Who on earth (or online) needs six different e-mail addresses?  I could understand it if I was actually some huge multinational business, but  I am just a Granny for heavens sake!  I’ve only owned a computer for about five years!  Hmm.  Maybe its an illness of some sort. (says she clutching at straws)  Compulsive Signing Up to Websites disorder.  Or maybe its all to do with my inclination to be very curious (rather like a cat) and my need to ‘try everything out’ in case I am missing some new site or application that you can’t live without.  Well , whatever the reason, I shall in all probability be pestered every minute from now on with messages that I have no intention of replying to, so it will  no doubt go the way of so many others that I have signed up to in the past, and end up being completely ignored.  That is until I suddenly come across it again and decide that It’s a ‘must have’ application or website, only to find out to my horror that I have been here before as I  hastily type in one of my many e-mail addresses in a vain attempt to find the one I used initially,  or type in my Username only to be greeted with the inevitable message, ‘Sorry, that name is already in use, please choose another’

TG 

We have just returned from another very enjoyable walk along the canal side with our friends from CREW. We all met up at the car park in town at 10.30am where firstly studied the provided Menu for our intended meal at the end of the walk, and made our choices for our lunch. That done, we all set off at a brisk pace by joining the canal towpath at the nearby bridge. It was an absolutely breathtaking day weather wise, blue skies, nice warm breeze, perfect conditions for an enjoyable hike along the canal in fact.

You will recall that K, J and I had already done this route some few weeks back when it was a lovely day where we went all the way along the towpath to Elland.  This time, the Crew group were not intending to go that far as we would need to return to where  everyone's cars were parked  and also return back to town where our lunch was booked.  Its a very enjoyable walk as there are some stunning views to the right as you walk along the canal where the woods cover the side of the hill. The plan was to walk up to opposite Park Wood and then turn around and make the return journey back to town.  As usual K attached herself to the nearest person that would allow her to hook up and have a natter with, whilst I spent the walk taking pictures and/or conversing with whoever happened to be walking nearest to me at the time. I love this part of the canal, with the river Calder on the left of you and the fishing lake and stunning wooded hillside on the right.

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We soon arrived at the turning point where the walk leader held a hasty discussion about whether or not we took a ‘detour’ route back or just simply returned the same route that we had just walked.  Most opted to go back along the towpath which we did, although we did decide to make a slight detour through the wooded area between the canal and the river. K had to stop and lean on me at one point when she got a stone in her shoe. As usual as we neared town on our return she suddenly ditched her latest escort and speeded past everyone in order to make a bee line for the pub where we were to have our lunch.

 This was the The Old Ship Inn where we have enjoyed having a lunch following one of our walks before. Most of us had chosen to have the same meal, a delicious Chicken and Bacon Salad which we all really enjoyed. K was treated to a Chocolate Heaven dessert again by R  so I took some pictures of her devouring it at the table.  The meal was washed down with two glasses of White Zinfandel (me) and  a glass of White Zinfandel followed by half a shandy (K) When we had finished our meal,  R offered to run us home which elicited a sigh of relief from K as I had been toying with the idea of walking home, and she eagerly  accepted his kind offer. The meals in the Old Ship Inn are absolutely delicious and well worth partaking in, I thoroughly recommend paying it a visit if you ever happen to  find yourself moseying around our little town.  All in all, a wonderful and very enjoyable walk in beautiful weather, ending in a equally enjoyable meal.

TG