I did a blog the other day about names and I omitted my Granddaughter who is named after a wine. Yes – two intelligent people calling their daughter Blossom Hill. Justifiable homicide I’d say.
I don’t see my daughter, son-in-law, BH or her brother. We fell out. BH’s brother was one of the most miserable children I’ve ever met. He must have spent three years out of his first six crying. Not proper crying – just miserable-little-sod, maungey (mornjie), screaming crying. Anyway – I don’t want to go into too much detail as I might get sued. He was also a grasser – anything he was told (or told off) went straight back to his mother. This wasn’t the cause of the fall-out by the way.
One summer day I called at their house – something didn’t suit laddo and he started his usual whingeing. We found ourselves alone in the back garden (he was about three years old at the time) so I took a sneaky opportunity to have a go at him (super granddad me!) and I went “myeh myeh myeh myeh” to him. His response? “My don’t like you granddad Steve!”. To which I replied “No – and my don’t like you either!”. Sadly, that summed up our relationship. At least we were honest with each other.
My wife and I use this phrase (reduced to initials) if we take a (joking) dislike a stranger. We’ll nod in the general direction and say – MDLH – H standing for him/her.
It was mine and my beautiful wife’s wedding anniversary. In case you don’t know (and why would you) the 17th Anniversary is Ruby. No, no – not that red diamond thing (that’s the 40th) – Ruby Murray. Yes – the 17th Anniversary is indeed your Curry Wedding.
We went out with friends last night and had a great meal at one of the local establishments serving lovely spicy food. It was a all-you-can-eat buffet for 8.95 Euros. Yum yum. I’m suffering slightly this morning (in the botty department – you know Ring of Fire) but it was worth every rabbit’s nose twitch that my arse is doing.
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At our wedding, my Auntie Nelly (God rest her soul) was heard to say “I’ll give it six months…”. Well Auntie Nell (God rest your soul) – up yours.
Water is extremely precious in this region of Spain. It hasn’t rained any significant amount for months now. Great for holiday-makers and us Ex-Pats alike. However my water-butts are empty and we are now using old washing-up water to water our plants. Every plant now has bits of rice, tatie, bread-crumbs, egg etcetera around and on it. I’m sure when we finally have a good shower all the detritus will be washed into the soil thereby adding extra nutrients. Win/win.
I started using the ex-WUW about two weeks ago when my salvaged rain-water ran out. After a couple of days of using it my wife asked “Are you using washing-up water on these plants?”. Immediately the little boy in me took over and I thought – you’re in trouble Steve – you’d better lie. “Errr… no. Why?”. “I just thought they were looking better that’s all”.
“Oh – did you say washing-up water? Yes, as a matter of fact, I am”.
One thing that bugs me is the mispronunciation of the letter H. To all you pseudo-posh people out there who say “HAITCH” – you’re wrong! The correct pronunciation is “AITCH”. Nobody pronounces F as Feff. Or L as Lell. Or M as memm. Or N as nenn. Or R as Rarr. Or W as Wubble-woo. Or Y as Yeye. Or X as Xex.
All you feckers who say HAITCH – IT’S AITCH.
I think I’d better pack in now as I might have upset a few people. Fuck ’em. He he he he he ha ha ha …….