I'm packing for my trip back to England. "Gannin' yem" as they say on Tyneside. It's quite hard to pack for almost a month, given that for the last two years it has been hotter then Hades and the two years before I thought we'd been diverted to Siberia. One never knows. It would help of course, if the kids would leave the "ready to pack" pile alone. I spent most of the weekend picking out decent clothes for them, washing and ironing them, and generally being very organized. This morning elder son came down in laundered pyjamas, and the Ball & Chain dressed the little one in the outfit from the top of his pile. Grrr!
As usual, we have the requisite medical emergency that flares up just as we are leaving. This time it's loud ringing in the ears of the queenager. I took her to the doc last week and there's nothing in there. Since everyone's allergies are really bad, doc suggested trying an anti-hystamine for a week. Apparently that's not working and it's all my fault. So now I have to try to get in to see a specialist before we leave. And while I'm at it, I'll be teaching the pigs at the zoo to sprout wings and, well, you get the picture...
Oh yes, and the Ball & Chain has gone out of town till Thursday.
So I'm going to practise deep breathing, remain completely organised, not worry about the kids lying around watching TV and picture the following:
- ham and pease-pudding sandwiches, preferably in a stotty (Geordie bread to the uninitiated)
- decent cheese, ie. anything crumbly that doesn't look like an orange brick
- beautifully merchandised shops like M&S, Boots etc. I don't necessarily buy anything, I just wander round taking in the sparkle
- decent fish and chips, with vinegar
- light, summer evenings, preferably spent with grown-ups or children who are off in the distance
- the view of rolling hills from the end of my mother's driveway
OK, feeling calmer already. Now where's that to-do list.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Post Mortem
As I may have mentioned, Blondie were playing at our local zoo last night! The stage was set up next to the sea lion pool and opposite the lions' den. The animals were safely tucked up inside, probably more in case some idiot tried to join them than to protect their ear drums.
They're doing the Parallel Lines 30th Anniversary tour (Blondie, not the animals) so most of the songs came from that LP, I mean album. (My kids don't even know what I'm talking about if I say LP.) The average age was about 45, so it was a well-behaved crowd out way beyond their bed time. The skies had been ominously heavy all day but the rains never came. (My garden is looking decidedly desert-like today though.)
Anyway, what can I say, they were brilliant. They played for about an hour and twenty minutes, on a stage with no crazy lighting or other distracting special effects. Debbie Harry was in fine voice, so BOOW, I'll have to disagree with you there slightly. No, it wasn't studio quality but she belted them out, except for Fade and Away and Radiate, which was still well controlled. (Do I sound like a rock journalist or what?)
And, she is extremely skinny, not in a skeletal way but compared to the last time I saw her. I couldn't get close enough to see the signs of a face job, although the cheek bones were on full display, but there's no cosmetic surgery that can make you that skinny. If there is, let me know.
I sang along and everyone around me (including the Ball & Chain) was very impressed that I knew all the words. At least I think they were impressed; they may have just been very irritated, but I'd had a couple of plastic cups of nasty white wine by then so I cared not. (What a headache that has left me with, I might add!)
So, you can see their tour schedule on the web site, and I recommend you go and see them if they come to a zoo near you.
They're doing the Parallel Lines 30th Anniversary tour (Blondie, not the animals) so most of the songs came from that LP, I mean album. (My kids don't even know what I'm talking about if I say LP.) The average age was about 45, so it was a well-behaved crowd out way beyond their bed time. The skies had been ominously heavy all day but the rains never came. (My garden is looking decidedly desert-like today though.)
Anyway, what can I say, they were brilliant. They played for about an hour and twenty minutes, on a stage with no crazy lighting or other distracting special effects. Debbie Harry was in fine voice, so BOOW, I'll have to disagree with you there slightly. No, it wasn't studio quality but she belted them out, except for Fade and Away and Radiate, which was still well controlled. (Do I sound like a rock journalist or what?)
And, she is extremely skinny, not in a skeletal way but compared to the last time I saw her. I couldn't get close enough to see the signs of a face job, although the cheek bones were on full display, but there's no cosmetic surgery that can make you that skinny. If there is, let me know.
I sang along and everyone around me (including the Ball & Chain) was very impressed that I knew all the words. At least I think they were impressed; they may have just been very irritated, but I'd had a couple of plastic cups of nasty white wine by then so I cared not. (What a headache that has left me with, I might add!)
So, you can see their tour schedule on the web site, and I recommend you go and see them if they come to a zoo near you.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Back in Time
In a sad and pathetic attempt to sustain the rock chick in me, I am following up my recent Cheap Trick gig (get me!) with Friday night tickets to see:
Yes friends, it's the 30th Anniversary tour of Blondie's Parallel Lines album. (I nearly said "LP" there -thus drawing attention to my advancing age!)
Half of me wants to go just to see how Debbie Harry's holding up. There was a piece in one of the newspapers the other day saying that the promotional posters looked as if she'd had major work done in preparation. However, she's been in the news on and off over here for a few years now and, although she may have had a little work done, she looks age-appropriate. Let's face it, if you had those cheek bones in your 30's they're probably still going to look pretty awesome 20+ years later.
They're playing at our local zoo believe it or not. (Hardly a reason to go and have your face lifted really - I go there at least twice a week with the little one.) The tour venues are all pretty small, but that's got to be better than booking an arena and then having to cancel dates due to woeful lack of interest, a la Spice Girls. How utterly demoralizing must that be? It's no wonder Posh still isn't smiling despite stating that she was going to give it a go.
The zoo is about three blocks from my house - which is another reason why I'm making the effort. I can never be bothered to go very far. (I can hear them doing sound checks as I write - putting me in a bit of a rocker mood.) I'm actually quite glad it's not in a real rock venue as I'd be having a wardrobe panic by now. Can't really see me in a bin-liner with kohl-rimmed eyes these days.
As I hinted in my last post though, I'll have to find something resenbling a burkha to fend off the bloody mosquitoes.
Yes friends, it's the 30th Anniversary tour of Blondie's Parallel Lines album. (I nearly said "LP" there -thus drawing attention to my advancing age!)
Half of me wants to go just to see how Debbie Harry's holding up. There was a piece in one of the newspapers the other day saying that the promotional posters looked as if she'd had major work done in preparation. However, she's been in the news on and off over here for a few years now and, although she may have had a little work done, she looks age-appropriate. Let's face it, if you had those cheek bones in your 30's they're probably still going to look pretty awesome 20+ years later.
They're playing at our local zoo believe it or not. (Hardly a reason to go and have your face lifted really - I go there at least twice a week with the little one.) The tour venues are all pretty small, but that's got to be better than booking an arena and then having to cancel dates due to woeful lack of interest, a la Spice Girls. How utterly demoralizing must that be? It's no wonder Posh still isn't smiling despite stating that she was going to give it a go.
The zoo is about three blocks from my house - which is another reason why I'm making the effort. I can never be bothered to go very far. (I can hear them doing sound checks as I write - putting me in a bit of a rocker mood.) I'm actually quite glad it's not in a real rock venue as I'd be having a wardrobe panic by now. Can't really see me in a bin-liner with kohl-rimmed eyes these days.
As I hinted in my last post though, I'll have to find something resenbling a burkha to fend off the bloody mosquitoes.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Suburbia - not for me!
So there I was yesterday morning, weeding my apology of a back garden. It has rained pissistantly for a few days, so there was a bit of a jungle developing. And here, when the weather is hot and damp, and there's a lot of flora, there's also a high chance of mosquitoes. Granted the city isn't as bad as the subsurbs, but the one that was out and about yesterday had its beady eye on me as soon as I stepped outside.
And the result:
It's fair to say that I don't do things by half, so naturally when I get bitten (and I always do) it's not just the red or white itchy blotch. No siree Bob! (Very appropriate American saying!) As can be seen, my whole elbow has swollen rather attractively - believe me, I don't like my arms at the best of times but they're not this weird looking. I once got bitten on the back of the hand and it was so swollen that I couldn't move my fingers for a few days. Decades ago in Jamaica I had 26 bites on one foot (too fed up to count further) and the Jamaicans would follow me around pointing at my red, swollen ulcerations.
The Ball & chain uses me as his personal mosquito deterrent; sit next to me and you won't get bitten. They only have probosces (sp?) for me. I get bitten through clothes, clouds of spray and even sitting next to those expensive back garden machines that effectively suck the little buggers right out of the air. I swear they have a quick nibble on me as they're hurtling past to their fate. A bit like a death row inmate's last meal before execution.
It's even worse when we go on a 'hot' holiday. By the time I have a very light (make that very light) tan, I'm also so covered in bites that I should receive an "R" rating - a regular horror movie in flip flops.
So it's city living for me and holidays in the Antarctic I think. Right, where's that anti-itch cream?
And the result:
It's fair to say that I don't do things by half, so naturally when I get bitten (and I always do) it's not just the red or white itchy blotch. No siree Bob! (Very appropriate American saying!) As can be seen, my whole elbow has swollen rather attractively - believe me, I don't like my arms at the best of times but they're not this weird looking. I once got bitten on the back of the hand and it was so swollen that I couldn't move my fingers for a few days. Decades ago in Jamaica I had 26 bites on one foot (too fed up to count further) and the Jamaicans would follow me around pointing at my red, swollen ulcerations.
The Ball & chain uses me as his personal mosquito deterrent; sit next to me and you won't get bitten. They only have probosces (sp?) for me. I get bitten through clothes, clouds of spray and even sitting next to those expensive back garden machines that effectively suck the little buggers right out of the air. I swear they have a quick nibble on me as they're hurtling past to their fate. A bit like a death row inmate's last meal before execution.
It's even worse when we go on a 'hot' holiday. By the time I have a very light (make that very light) tan, I'm also so covered in bites that I should receive an "R" rating - a regular horror movie in flip flops.
So it's city living for me and holidays in the Antarctic I think. Right, where's that anti-itch cream?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Car rant
If there's one thing that can reduce me to tears of absolute rage and frustration it's stupid cars. This week has seen me as near to road rage as possible with all the driving I've had to do. Five year old is going to theatre camp, (thus encouraging his over-dramatic side) south of us, and the older two are doing a teen cooking camp about half an hour north (natch). For the past few days I have been dropping little one off, driving like a maniac to get the older two there on time, squeezing some errand or other into the half hour in between going back for the little one then back again for the older two. (Two hours in the car total.)
This morning I was luxuriating in the fact that the Ball & Chain (back from England)was able to drop little one off on the way to work. Him and baby boy climbed into his car, while me and older two got into mine. B&C pulled out, and I started my car. Click, whirr. Nothing. Now years of the kids leaving lights on, doors open etc. has taught me to recognise the sound of a car not about to start any time soon. I jumped out of the car and went running after B&C, arms waving frantically. Years of training made him back up immediately. No time to figure out what was wrong with my car; we all clambered into one car and began the long drop-off process. (Why I went along I don't know. At that point I must have been carrying the guilt for whatever had happened to flatten the battery.)
An hour later we sat in the car trying to figure out what was wrong, when hubby noticed a button with a picture of a key -and a flashing light. Got the manual out and apparently it was the anti-theft device/car immobiliser. It certainly didn't look like anyone had forced entry into the garage and tried to steal my car, so I phoned my local dealer to speak to someone who knew about these things. Something seems to have de-magnetized the key (I think he said.) Apparently I could try using another key (didn't work), if unsuccessful, the car will have to be towed and re-programmed. I cannot believe that since it's the signals coming from the remote control, the whole bloody buggery car has to be taken in. I need it.
And this is the "typical" part - the B&C is taking older two to NY this weekend, (this afternoon, in fact) and was planning to drive to and from the airport. Now we have to change plans, get my car towed, get them to the airport, etc.etc.
Of course I was bitching and moaning, then came out with a classic. "Why do these things always happen when you need to go somewhere?". Then of course it occurred to me that you wouldn't be sitting in your car trying to start it if you didn't need to go anywhere!
This morning I was luxuriating in the fact that the Ball & Chain (back from England)was able to drop little one off on the way to work. Him and baby boy climbed into his car, while me and older two got into mine. B&C pulled out, and I started my car. Click, whirr. Nothing. Now years of the kids leaving lights on, doors open etc. has taught me to recognise the sound of a car not about to start any time soon. I jumped out of the car and went running after B&C, arms waving frantically. Years of training made him back up immediately. No time to figure out what was wrong with my car; we all clambered into one car and began the long drop-off process. (Why I went along I don't know. At that point I must have been carrying the guilt for whatever had happened to flatten the battery.)
An hour later we sat in the car trying to figure out what was wrong, when hubby noticed a button with a picture of a key -and a flashing light. Got the manual out and apparently it was the anti-theft device/car immobiliser. It certainly didn't look like anyone had forced entry into the garage and tried to steal my car, so I phoned my local dealer to speak to someone who knew about these things. Something seems to have de-magnetized the key (I think he said.) Apparently I could try using another key (didn't work), if unsuccessful, the car will have to be towed and re-programmed. I cannot believe that since it's the signals coming from the remote control, the whole bloody buggery car has to be taken in. I need it.
And this is the "typical" part - the B&C is taking older two to NY this weekend, (this afternoon, in fact) and was planning to drive to and from the airport. Now we have to change plans, get my car towed, get them to the airport, etc.etc.
Of course I was bitching and moaning, then came out with a classic. "Why do these things always happen when you need to go somewhere?". Then of course it occurred to me that you wouldn't be sitting in your car trying to start it if you didn't need to go anywhere!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Stupid Songs
The other night I was half way through "Two Little Boys", head back, eyes closed, crooning away, when I opened my eyes to find my 5 year old lying in bed - with his hands over his ears!! Bloody cheek -the older two had it word perfect at his age, but obviously he has actually bothered to listen to the lyrics and eschews that pap.
For any non-Brits (or Brits under 35) "Two Little Boys" was a surprise and very sappy hit when I was a wee one. It was about, yes, two little boys one of whom fell off his wooden horse. The other one (Joe or Jack) picks him up, and puts him on the back of his own wooden horse, singing "Did you think I would leave you crying when there's room on my horse for two". Fast forward to World War One, when they're on the battlefield, and yes, the child hero is wounded and dying. Up goes the shout, a horse dashes out, and there's Joe (or is it Jack) singing, "Did you think I could leave you dying...". Still brings a lump that does.
Anyway, once I'd dried my eyes, I started thinking about the number of crap, I mean surprising, songs that have reached the top of the charts in the UK over the years.
- "Chirpy chirpy cheep cheep". (By Middle of the Road.) What was this song about?
"Last night I heard my momma singing a song. Oo oo wee, chirpy chirpy cheep cheep. Woke up this morning and my momma had gone. Oo oo wee, etc."
Could she really have been so callous about her mother's disappearance? I know everyone's mum gets on their nerves once in a while but really.
- "Boom bang-a-bang". Lulu's entry for the Eurovision Song Contest if I remember rightly. I can't imagine she won with it but the whole competition was so amateurish that who knows. Can't quite remember but I think it was about being in love - which in this day and age, makes it sound positively pornographic. (In case anyone has forgotten, the Eurovision Song Contest did turn ABBA into a global force with "Waterloo".)
- "The Grandad Song" by Clive Dunn, followed a few years later by "Grandma, we love you", (St. Winifred's School Choir) It's no wonder they whizzed to Number 1, as every grandchild in the country felt instantly obliged to go out and buy them even if their grandparents didn't have a record player.
- "The Birdie Song", by the Tweets, of course. Amazingly this ditty had no lyrics and its main instrument sounded like something out of an oom-pah-pah band. According to the BBC website, it has been voted the most annoying song of all time, which will come as no surprise to anyone who has had the misfortune to hear it. And I am proud to say that even in my drunkest moments, I have never been seen poised, birdlike, joining in with this travesty of the airwaves.
Here's a sign of the times - while checking a few facts for this post, I Googled "UK Oldies Singles" and came upon not a list of past hit songs, but a plethora of Internet dating sites for senior citizens!!!
For any non-Brits (or Brits under 35) "Two Little Boys" was a surprise and very sappy hit when I was a wee one. It was about, yes, two little boys one of whom fell off his wooden horse. The other one (Joe or Jack) picks him up, and puts him on the back of his own wooden horse, singing "Did you think I would leave you crying when there's room on my horse for two". Fast forward to World War One, when they're on the battlefield, and yes, the child hero is wounded and dying. Up goes the shout, a horse dashes out, and there's Joe (or is it Jack) singing, "Did you think I could leave you dying...". Still brings a lump that does.
Anyway, once I'd dried my eyes, I started thinking about the number of crap, I mean surprising, songs that have reached the top of the charts in the UK over the years.
- "Chirpy chirpy cheep cheep". (By Middle of the Road.) What was this song about?
"Last night I heard my momma singing a song. Oo oo wee, chirpy chirpy cheep cheep. Woke up this morning and my momma had gone. Oo oo wee, etc."
Could she really have been so callous about her mother's disappearance? I know everyone's mum gets on their nerves once in a while but really.
- "Boom bang-a-bang". Lulu's entry for the Eurovision Song Contest if I remember rightly. I can't imagine she won with it but the whole competition was so amateurish that who knows. Can't quite remember but I think it was about being in love - which in this day and age, makes it sound positively pornographic. (In case anyone has forgotten, the Eurovision Song Contest did turn ABBA into a global force with "Waterloo".)
- "The Grandad Song" by Clive Dunn, followed a few years later by "Grandma, we love you", (St. Winifred's School Choir) It's no wonder they whizzed to Number 1, as every grandchild in the country felt instantly obliged to go out and buy them even if their grandparents didn't have a record player.
- "The Birdie Song", by the Tweets, of course. Amazingly this ditty had no lyrics and its main instrument sounded like something out of an oom-pah-pah band. According to the BBC website, it has been voted the most annoying song of all time, which will come as no surprise to anyone who has had the misfortune to hear it. And I am proud to say that even in my drunkest moments, I have never been seen poised, birdlike, joining in with this travesty of the airwaves.
Here's a sign of the times - while checking a few facts for this post, I Googled "UK Oldies Singles" and came upon not a list of past hit songs, but a plethora of Internet dating sites for senior citizens!!!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Calling all (brain) cells
I wrote recently about ridiculous celebrity statements - Demi Moore banging on about having used "highly trained medicinal leeches" to be exact. Now, I realise that these people are neither brain surgeons nor rocket scientists in their spare time, but sometimes I wonder if even they truly understand what they're saying.
Take Marilu Henner for instance. Best known as the lady taxi driver in the brilliant 70's TV series, "Taxi", she has recently taken to penning health and well-being type books. Don't get me wrong; at 56 she has a fab body and a great, age-appropriate, face so she must be doing something worth sharing. She's also very business-savvy and did quite well on the Donald's Celebrity Apprentice, but in describing her latest book she says,
"This book is about breaking your life down to a cellular level and saying "OK, what's working and what isn't?".
To be honest, I've now read this statement a number of times and I'm none the wiser. If I really were to break my life down to a cellular level we're presumably talking molecular biology here. I got my 'O' level regurgitating the life cycle of the Cabbage White butterfly, so this is clearly beyond me and is frankly, a bit of a disincentive. If, as I suspect, it's not meant to be taken quite so literally, then what the heck does she mean - "break it down to a cellular level"? I am having visions of us all in blob-like puddles all over the floor.
(Answers on a postcard or the back of a sealed down envelope please.)
A later tip in the interview advises readers to "Organise your purse, wallet, gym bag or desk. And every time you look at that, you'll say "Oh yes, I'm on a healthy life path".
Well, my purse, wallet or desk (sod the gym bag) could be organised within an inch of its life and that still wouldn't be in my first ten reactions. I would either congratulate myself on finding whatever was lost (as that's what usually prompts a tidy up) or take bets on how long it would stay that way, since my kids seem to live by the motto "What's mine is mine and what's mom's/mum's is there for the plundering". And really, - raise your hand if you have ever stood back admiringly at something in your daily life and said "Oh yes. I'm on a healthy life path". You'd either have to be in a TV advert/commercial or intent on jinxing your future health.
To give Marilu some credit, the interview does give the overall message that "Health is a total picture", which we know it is. A quick look at Hollywood reminds us that you can have a Pilates perfect bod coupled with woefully inadequate mental health. I just wish her editor had actually read the piece instead of just searching for typos and split infinitives.
To show that I'm not a total beeyatch and am deserving of the award recently given by Spinning the Wheel, you can read the whole interview at www.GreatHealthMag.com. The book is entitled "Wear Your Life Well" (Collins, 2008) a title which, I'm afraid, could also be up for some scrutiny in the future.
Take Marilu Henner for instance. Best known as the lady taxi driver in the brilliant 70's TV series, "Taxi", she has recently taken to penning health and well-being type books. Don't get me wrong; at 56 she has a fab body and a great, age-appropriate, face so she must be doing something worth sharing. She's also very business-savvy and did quite well on the Donald's Celebrity Apprentice, but in describing her latest book she says,
"This book is about breaking your life down to a cellular level and saying "OK, what's working and what isn't?".
To be honest, I've now read this statement a number of times and I'm none the wiser. If I really were to break my life down to a cellular level we're presumably talking molecular biology here. I got my 'O' level regurgitating the life cycle of the Cabbage White butterfly, so this is clearly beyond me and is frankly, a bit of a disincentive. If, as I suspect, it's not meant to be taken quite so literally, then what the heck does she mean - "break it down to a cellular level"? I am having visions of us all in blob-like puddles all over the floor.
(Answers on a postcard or the back of a sealed down envelope please.)
A later tip in the interview advises readers to "Organise your purse, wallet, gym bag or desk. And every time you look at that, you'll say "Oh yes, I'm on a healthy life path".
Well, my purse, wallet or desk (sod the gym bag) could be organised within an inch of its life and that still wouldn't be in my first ten reactions. I would either congratulate myself on finding whatever was lost (as that's what usually prompts a tidy up) or take bets on how long it would stay that way, since my kids seem to live by the motto "What's mine is mine and what's mom's/mum's is there for the plundering". And really, - raise your hand if you have ever stood back admiringly at something in your daily life and said "Oh yes. I'm on a healthy life path". You'd either have to be in a TV advert/commercial or intent on jinxing your future health.
To give Marilu some credit, the interview does give the overall message that "Health is a total picture", which we know it is. A quick look at Hollywood reminds us that you can have a Pilates perfect bod coupled with woefully inadequate mental health. I just wish her editor had actually read the piece instead of just searching for typos and split infinitives.
To show that I'm not a total beeyatch and am deserving of the award recently given by Spinning the Wheel, you can read the whole interview at www.GreatHealthMag.com. The book is entitled "Wear Your Life Well" (Collins, 2008) a title which, I'm afraid, could also be up for some scrutiny in the future.
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