Mother – 42

18 09 2016


I’m having an out-of-body experience. I’m looking down at two people who are on their knees beneath a computer desk and trying to find out where 20 metres of optic cable will lead them.

One of those people is me. The other one is my mother.

Nothing is working in the house. The land line is down, the iPad is down, and I’ve forgotten to bring my mobile. But no worry as mother has one. If only we can find it.

We can’t ring it because as said none of the phones are working, and after a really thorough search we still haven’t located it.

So now we are down on our hands and knees hoping to find Mother’s modem.

The last time I saw mother’s modem it had half a cup of tea in a bone china cup resting on it.

Eventually I spot a small tea stain, then a bigger tea stain, and yes, hurray, an even bigger tea stain which has dried up on mothers modem. We check the cable and it appears to be connected properly.

We now speculate about whether the world has come to an end but can’t check because mother’s television isn’t working either.

I step outside the house, look up and down the road, and it does all feel a bit too quiet for a Thursday. But I’m relieved to say that I didn’t spot any tumble weed or nuclear waste blowing my way so I step back inside the house again.

Mother is now in the kitchen with her head underneath the stairs and she is rummaging.

I hold my breath and wait, hoping that she has remembered where she has put her mobile phone.

When she emerges, red faced, her fist is clutching a long strip of paper. It’s the receipt for the land line phones that aren’t working.

On with our coats and shoes, we are about to head out of the door when I hear a faint buzzing sound. It’s coming from mothers coat pocket, and yes it is her mobile phone.

The text message is from my sister and it informs mother that there has been a network failure in her area and it won’t be fixed until Monday.

Relieved we continue on our journey down to the news agents to buy 20 pounds of credit for mother’s mobile.

All I have to do now is teach mother how to use it.

‘Please God grant me patience,’ I mumble as mother drops the phone and the battery falls out.
















Perhaps a cat with a wheel would be easier…

17 09 2016


I’ve finally installed my new mouse, and after a bit of coaxing, cheese mostly, the wheel on my mouse seems to be working fine. Although I’m beginning to suspect that I have another mouse lurking in the background somewhere, and its eating all my blogs. For a moment I thought I might have posted something offensive and that all my “Followers” had jumped ship, and then by accident discovered that my “Settings” had changed.

I can now only access other writers blogs via my reader. Except it took a while to access my reader. Anyway I found it. Relief. So delighted to have all the blogs I follow back again as I really enjoy taking an hour or two to read what others have written. Its like opening the window and letting fresh air into the house. Arhhh. Lovely.

All I have to do now is find out why, when I’m posting a comment, certain letters are missing. I proof read my comments, make corrections, press publish, and low and behold, “Horror”, there are various typo’s.

I’ve just noticed on a comment I have posted that I’ve written “Re-Bog” instead of “Re-Blog”. Re- bogging is something we do here in Ireland when we are digging up peat for the winter fires and replenish the bog in time for next years harvest.

I’d also written “My” instead of “May” which may not sound like much, but it did sound rather possessive since ” My Angela …” takes on a totally different meaning than “May Angela…”. Help!

Just checked again to see if I do still have followers, and yes, they haven’t jumped ship yet. There’s still time of course.

I’m just wondering whether a cat with a wheel would be more reliable than a mouse.

I know they are very independent animals but if you stroke them enough they stick with you. And anyway I much prefer purring to shrieking.


Laughing at myself…

16 09 2016


I know it is the first sign of madness but not only do I talk to myself I also laugh at myself. Help! I’ve just read the question I had entered into the search engine. “The wheel on my mouse isn’t working”. I won’t explain the picture it conjured up in my head but I’m about to go out and buy a mouse with a functioning wheel. (LOL)


Mother – episode 41

16 09 2016


Mother is amazing. She has embraced modern technology with gusto.
Her iPad is a blessing and she uses it for everything. “Searches” especially. Whether looking up the side effects of medication (All medications seem to cause a rash), reviews of films and plays, recipes, or family history, she has embraced the iPad’s attributes and cannot imagine life without it.

But I wish I could say the same about mothers approach to modern packaging.
It is supposedly designed for ease of use, to keep products fresh, and to enable the user to open and re-close the packaging again in order to keep the contents within it well-preserved.

There are the milk cartons – squeeze the flaps, pull them back, press them forward and an opening appears. Then there are the frozen peas – cut above the dotted line, slide the little plastic square back, and like an open zip, the peas are accessible. Or, pull the collar on the drinks bottle outwards and it will slowly uncoil, allowing the user to turn the cap and access its contents.

What innovative inventions. Yes, but totally ignored by mother who sees every form of packaging as an opportunity to use a large pair of kitchen scissors.

There are gaping wide open milk cartons, loose peas all over the freezer compartment, and headless washing up and bleach bottles in the cleaning cupboard.

And her medicine bottles are not only child proof but adult proof too – the process of pushing the cap down and turning it, all at the same time, a very strenuous exercise.

Even I limber up and blow into my hands, legs astride, before trying to open one, and when I’m not there, mother just keeps the caps off.

Which probably explains why mother is now attending keep fit classes again – her stated aim to be able to pull the lids from cans without the little tab coming away in her fingers. (I’ve found a hammer and a chisel quite useful at these times – it’s such a shame to waste food and drink).

As mother says ‘”Electric can openers are a great help – but don’t get her started on those little sardine tins with a key”.

I’d nodded in agreement, but inwardly I was thinking about a jar of jam, a door frame, the door I’m going to have to clamp onto the neck of it, and whether or not I should be turning the jam jar clockwise or anti-clockwise in order to get the darn lid off.




Friends with benefits – As I see it (by definition).

15 09 2016


As listed in Graham’s unofficial and less than concise dictionary :0)

Friends with benefits: People who are there when you need them, who will listen, support, and offer a cup of tea if required. (The cup of tea being the benefit).

It’s not you it’s me: What I say when I’ve been waiting in the doctor’s surgery for over an hour, it’s my turn, and some one else stands up.

It’s not me it’s you: What I say when some one lets their wind go and every one stares at me.

Cyber space: That place in everybody’s home where the car keys, phone, spectacles and wallet disappear to when you’re in a hurry and can’t find them.

Bye Felicia: Something I say when I’m saying goodbye to Felicia.

Snap Chat: The type of chats I have when I’m in a bad mood.

There’s Something About Mary: I overheard my local priest saying this to one of his parishioners.

World Wide Web: This is what happens when spiders of the world unite.

Search Engine: This is what I do when the car breaks down and I try to find the fault.

Deadpool: The pool at the end of my garden. There is so much Algae in it all possible life died long ago!

Conscious Uncoupling: This is when I disengage the trailer from the car – on purpose.

eBay: Right next door to D bay.

Free Wheelin: How I would describe the wheel that came away from the front of my car and went off in a different direction.

A Happy Meal: One that I can enjoy in peace.

A Big Mac: A rain coat that is one size too big for me.

Wrinklies: Synthetic clothes that I have put in the washing machine when it specifically states: “Dry clean only”

Getting Jiggy with it: What I do when I’m trying to put a pair of socks on that have shrunk in the wash.

Zigazigah: The sound I make when I’ve caught my finger in a zip and try to free it.

Yahoo: A sound a cowboy makes when trying to round-up cattle.

A calorie counter: A counter with loads of cakes on it.

Smart phone: A neat and tidy phone that I can make phone calls on.

Tablet: I take these when I have a headache.

Chill: I feel this when I turn the heating off and stick my head in the fridge.

Sick: How I feel when I come down with the flu.

Sick note: When I come down with the flu and sing this is how the notes sound.

Deadly: Anything that could kill you.

LOL: Half of a lollipop. Can I have the other half back please?

AIBU: How Abraham, who is dyslexic, spells his name.

Twitter: I hear this early morning when the dawn chorus breaks.

New and improved recipe: The same recipe but with a new label.

How many hits?: A boxer tends to ask this after the fight.

Spotify: Magnified acne.

Download: When I’m carrying something heavy and I need a rest this is what I do.

Pop Socks: A name I have given the socks my father wears.

Spanks: We used to receive these as children for misbehaving.

Jogging: The nudge with my elbow I give to my mother when she has fallen asleep in the cinema.

50 Shades of Grey: A battle ship.

50 shades darker: The water that surrounds it.

Breaking news: News about someone who has broken something. Usually my son.

Dot Com: The woman who lives down the street. She has a sister –in-law named Dot Cotton.

BOGOF: Something I say to someone who is annoying me.

Check this out: This is what I do when I buy something, the cashier scans it and I pay for it.

Take a chill pill: Time to take another Valium.

Politically correct: When a politician says what people want to hear but doesn’t believe a word of what he/she is saying.

I’ll be in touch: Said by someone who won’t be in touch. They are usually good friends with ‘I’ll let you know’.

She’s fit: What I will say about a woman who goes to the gym a lot.

Please hold,  your call is important to us: You have plenty of time to redecorate the house.

You’ve got mail: The postman has just arrived.

The End: Well it is unless this blog becomes so successful that I have to make a sequel. But of course, if I do, it won’t be as good as this one.





Wonderful World- Beautiful Wide Web.

15 09 2016


The past few months have been a revelation, and like a giant advent calendar with hundreds of doors to open, I have been popping in and out of people’s lives like there is no tomorrow. I’ve travelled to Finland, Spain, Prague, Iceland and Russia, I’ve learnt how to make real lemonade, melon salad and pizza – I’ve been given inspiration, read about people’s struggles with illness, admired amazing art work, listened to incredible songs, and even tried to learn how to write properly, and with structure. (I definitely need structure).

I’ve also learnt about the consequences and the aftermath of a major fire in Canada, people’s heroic struggles with addiction, their ambitions, the curve balls that life can throw at anyone of us at any time, and how blogger’s have both confronted and conquered their challenges.

I’ve even learnt about the modern dating scene, (On good advice I’m now avoiding Snap Chat), how to apply make up, (LOL), the latest fashion, what’s trending, and drawled over some magnificent pictures of cakes. (My latest pin-up is a Belgian chocolate bun laced with brandy cream).

I do love a cake.. There should be an equivalent to the Oscars annually where beautiful cakes parade down the red carpet … “and the winner is … Strawberry cheesecake.”

And all of this from a chair, by the window, by the river, beyond the trees – without having to travel anywhere except through my imagination. And I don’t need a passport, or a visa, because in this wonderful world there are no borders, age restrictions, race restrictions or any other barriers. All that’s required is curiosity, openness, friendliness and a broadband connection. (Luckily I have all four).

What can I say but thank you for allowing me in.  It’s been amazing, and is amazing.

But unfortunately I have to go now. There’s another door just begging to be opened and I just can’t wait to discover what might be behind it.

All I can say is  “What a wonderful world… what a beautiful big wide web”.




Recommended blogs to follow from Mliae – :0)

14 09 2016

Featured Image -- 725

Great recommendations for blogs to follow as recommended by Mliae. Follow the link.

Nb: Great Mliae. Thank you for the recommendations. :o)

Blogroll- Recommended blogs to follow- From Mliae

14 09 2016

Featured Image -- 725

Great recommendations for blogs to follow as recommended by Mliae. Follow the link.

Nb: Great Mliae. Thank you for the recommendations. :o)

Lifexperiment Blog

I had to do it. This is my first blogroll, so I hope I’m going about it correctly. With so many blogs coming and going these days, I thought maybe I should share a few of my reliable favorites which publish good content and have been around for awhile.

The Millionaires Digest These people really know how to amp up my reader! Filled with awesome, relevant articles for bloggers, events & some fun stuff to read too!

Chape Personal Trainer I have David to thank for my recent body transition this year. He’s an awesome trainer and a great friend 🙂 So I stalk this blog for new things to try.

Leanna’s Creative Box Leenna is a super writer and an absolute blast!  Her published short stories will suck you right in. Believe it! 😉

A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales Jacqueline is just awesome 🙂 She is regularly throwing…

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Gone Fishing…

13 09 2016



Back in a couple of days……… :0)




No Ones Looking….

11 09 2016


My daughter has a very Scandinavian attitude towards nakedness and nudity in general.

I won’t say that she is naked now but we are in a well-known London department store, in the jeans department, and she has just removed her trousers in order to try on a new pair.
‘There’s a changing room over there’.
‘I know but it’s quicker to do it here. Anyway nobody’s looking’.

I’d barely noticed the man on the ladder not far away from us, but now he appears to be teetering. First left, then right, then finally steady as he scampers down the ladder and disappears.

From the black half dome in the centre ceiling my now super sensitive ears detect the unmistakable noise of a security camera swivelling, no doubt in our direction.

To my left a man is doing his best to stop the manikin he has just walked into from toppling onto a meticulously arranged display of expensive perfumes. It looks like a rehearsal for ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ from where I am standing, although his dance partner does looks rather stiff, and should I say, unbalanced.

My daughter doesn’t buy the jeans.

Up a floor mother announces that she is feeling a bit weary. The good girl that she is my daughter went off looking for somewhere for mother to sit and found the only chair in the entire department. Unfortunately there was a rather weary looking man sitting on it with piles of shopping bags at his feet.

We overhear my daughter in a rather loud voice telling the man that her granny was such and such an age, felt tired, and needed to sit down.

Now seated in a chair still warm from the previous occupant mother scolds my daughter for broadcasting her age to every one within earshot. My daughter smiles. ‘But at least now you have somewhere to sit’. Factually correct as always.

We are now on the top floor and my daughter is in love. I can read the signs. Red cheeks, wide eyes, and a quivering hand as she reads the label on the sole of a new pair of shoes. “Half Price”.

She finally reappears, hyper, stuttering, with six pairs of shoes in her basket.
‘You’re not buying all those?’
‘I err .. don’t know yet I err …have to try them’.

We wait, and we wait, watch a changing room curtain billowing in and out in various different places – mother nearly celebrating another birthday in the interim period.

My daughter looks disappointed as she re-enters the real world. ‘No’.

She doesn’t buy any of the shoes.

We are now outside and the bus arrives. Mother boards first, followed by my daughter, who announces to the driver in a loud voice that she is going to Bromley, to which the bus driver replies, ‘That’s funny so am I’.

I step back a bit and allow a few more passengers to go ahead of me.

Mother’s house is eerily quiet now. My daughter left about an hour ago and mother has taken the opportunity to soak her feet in soapy water. She scrunches her toes up. ‘Your daughter is always such good company’.

‘Yes,’ I reply, but for some inexplicable reason my left eyelid starts twitching.













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