Alis Grave Nil

Saturday, 22 December 2012

Musing on an Ancient Mayan Prophecy

I decided to go to the supermarket on 21 December 2012, the day the world was due to end.  When I arrived at our local Morrison's supermarket, it was just as if the ancient Mayan prophecy had come true.  The world was ending and everyone had gone to Morrison's to stock up on food supplies.  There were old ladies fighting to get to the brussel sprouts, trolleys running over toes, supermarket staff getting in the way, several grown men racing to the turkey section.  Honestly, if the world was coming to an end, would you really want to eat brussel sprouts?  Bleeeuuugh!  There were queues at every till and people bumping into each other with  trolleys so laden they could hardly push them and we even had to out-manoeuvre the fresh produce staff who had even bigger trolleys of vegetables, which they couldn't put out quickly enough.  I left the shop feeling completely bedraggled and exhausted and promising myself that I would not go back until well after Christmas, possibly not until February!
Anyway, since it is now 22 December 2012, you may have guessed by now that the world didn't end and we're all still alive - YIPPEEEEE!!   And it's only 3 more sleeps until Christmas Day - double YIPPPEEEE!! 

Wishing you all a very Happy Christmas, mes amis
Joyeux Noel
Feliz Navidad
Buon Natale
С Рождеством

Thursday, 13 December 2012

A Little Pre-Christmas Musing

Okay, own up, who put up the price of second class postage stamps in the UK when nobody was looking?  I went out to buy stamps for my Christmas cards last week and I kid you not, they cost more than the big bird that is currently in residence in my freezer.  When did that happen? I'm sure I only paid about £12 for stamps last year but this year the cost could have paid off the debt of a small country.  I was  a bit shocked, as I am sure many other people were as well.  The only thing is, if you stop sending Christmas cards, people who don't see you very often think one or other of you has died.
You can tell when Christmas has arrived in the Printemps household because Michael Buble's Christmas CD is played on a loop in our house from 1 December.  I even take him in the car every time I go out. 

I went to our local supermarket, Morrison's, this morning (with Michael B, of course).  Well, blow-me-rags (as the late Beatrice Printemps used to say), twas like the end of the world, it was so busy...and it's only 13 December.  I forgot to get something in one aisle and I couldn't get back up it because it was filled with trolleys and old people (younger people as well but the oldies get in the way don't they? Hee hee). Note to self: go to supermarket at 8am next time.
Anyway, I'm almost ready for Christmas, are you?  I made my stuffing balls the other day (big ones!) for the freezer, I've frozen all my fresh veg, bought the trifle ingredients (Christmas pudding - bleurgh!!).  I just have some more Christmas cleaning to do and a bit more bling to put up.  Now, where did I put my fairy dust? 

Feliz Navidad, mes amis.


Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Glasgow People

My lovely nephew, Jimmy Jazz  (age 12) told his mum a funny story the other day.  He was coming home from school on the train as usual with the hundreds of other pupils from his school.  A little old lady came on and was trying to squeeze past all the kids.  She kept saying politely, "Excuse me, boys...excuse me, boys", but being typical teenagers, they weren't budging.  Finally, she got a bit exasperated and shouted, "Would you wee b***ds move out of the f*** way!"  I just love Glasgow people. 
More updates later, mes amis.

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Kaledo Jewellery on Etsy

Just a little boost for my sister, Kathryn.  She has started an Esty store selling her beautiful hand-made jewellery.  Have a look when you have time.  It's called Kaledo.  She also does a blog, if you are interested under this link. 

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

On Missing Doctor Who

I must apologise for neglecting you mes amis.  Now that the Olympics is over and we have all been 'inspired',  normal service has now been resumed in the UK.

Okay, I admit it, I get glazed over when Roberto spouts forth about the inner workings of our solar panel (when the sun shines, it heats our water, as does our wood burning stove in the winter).  However, I am very pleased to announce that it has actually saved us around £250 on our fuel bill to date and we haven't had it for a full RESULT! 
We were invited to an evening wedding reception at the weekend.  It was held in a big old pub in a large village not far from us.  The village is a bit "footballers' wives".  The wedding reception wasn't.  Apart from the friends we went with, we hardly knew anybody there.  It was hot in the function room, nobody was dancing, apart from some little teenybopper girls and the music was so loud we couldn't hear what anyone was saying.  I knew one of the bridesmaids, who pootled over so see us in her sparkly flip flops.  Her hair was cut in a bob style and she was wearing a tiara and not a scrap of make-up.  Roberto didn't realise she was a bridesmaid and thought the party was a fancy dress and she had come as Cleopatra.  He said to our friend Brian "Looks like you've pulled, mate".  Brian said "where's the f**** fire exit?"
The buffet...well what can I say?  Platters of fat chips and egg sandwiches.  Roberto and Brian went to get some more drinks.  They must have been gone for about 10 minutes.  When they returned, the buffet had been demolished...just a few sad fat chips left lying on the table cloth. 
...and to think, I missed Doctor Who for this!!
Anyway, we managed to escape fairly quickly.  I don't think anyone noticed. 

Thursday, 16 August 2012

Post Olympic Musings

So the ancient games are over and our heros can be proud of themselves for collecting so many gold medals, including Pegasus the wonder horse, who won a gold medal for horse dancing.  Apollo and Achilles are having a drink in the local taverna....

Achilles:  "So what we do now, Apollo?  Olympics is finished.  Some numpty in the archery contest busted my ankle with stray arrow.  Bloody foreigners!

Apollo:  We could hop over to beach and watch Poseiden practising synchronised swimming with the beach volley ball girls...the lucky b****do!

Achilles: Nah, he is big show off.  The girls won't look at us if he is there.  Anyway, thought it was wine o'clock?  Service very slow in this taverna. 

Apollo:  Hey, Dionysus, another large jug of wine over here, there's a good lad. 

Dionysus: What your last slave die of?

Apollo:  Single sword wound to chest, actually.

Dionysus: Okay, one jug of Ouzo coming up.

Achilles:  Fancy going for a kebab after this, Apollo?

Apollo: That sounds like just the job.  A perfect end to a perfect Olympic games.

Wednesday, 8 August 2012

A Little Olympic Musing

I know I said previously that the Printemps household would be an Olympic free zone, but I just happened to switch on the TV the other night and the men's shot put was on.  Several minutes later and I discovered that it was actually the women's shot put.  I thought that big lass from Bellarusse was a big bloke.  She flung that big heavy ball so far that it almost beheaded several spectators in the back row.  A whole section of spectators actually ran for the hills on her second attempt. 

And what about the women's judo?  I thought it was Sumo wrestling!  Honestly, how can you be fit when you weigh 20 stones? 

So how are you enjoying the Olympics, mes amis?  I'm not really into it in a big way but I'm glad to see the Brits have won so many gold medals.  Oh, and I do like the horse dancing. 

As for the badminton, what a scream!  Two teams trying their best to lose the game and playing like great big jessies.  What was that all about?    I'm sure it wasn't like that in Ancient Greece... 

"Hey, Achilles, stop messing about and play like a man."
"What you mean, Artemis?   This bloody game for women anyway.  I go watch the girls playing beach volley ball.  Have you seen Athena in a bikini?"

Have a good day, mes amis.  I'm just off to practise my shot put in the back garden. 

Saturday, 21 July 2012

On Henpecked Husbands

There was a funny doinking noise all day yesterday and we discovered later on that it was a neighbour doinking his fenceposts with a fencepost doinker.  We think that 'She-who-must-be-obeyed' (i.e. Mrs Angry - see previous post) made her husband doink the fenceposts all day as a form of punishment for something.  Maybe he didn't finish his household chores or forgot to do the ironing, feed the chickens, clean behind the fridge, kick the cat, or whatever.  We could picture the scene:- "Get out there and doink those fenceposts and don't come back in until 5pm...and then you can come in and clean the house from top to bottom and make the dinner and then clean up afterwards....and no, you CANNOT go to the pub for a pint."  He wasn't even allowed to come in for a cup of tea and a rest. 

We saw poor old Dave heading back to the house after his day of doinking the fenceposts, his arms had stretched and were down to his knees and his head was down, knowing that he was due for another verbal battering as soon as he got in. 

When we got up this morning, Dave was doinking the posts again.  He must be in more trouble.  If he's not careful, she'll be doinking his head with the fencepost doinker.

Have a doinking good weekend, mes amis!

Sunday, 15 July 2012

On Making it Through the Rain

Well, we made it throught the rain and have had our first hot and sunny weekend for...I don't know how long.  Roberto is in cave man mode and is polishing up the barbie as we speak, ready to do his Jamie Oliver spare ribs.  Also, now that the sun is shining, Roberto is starting to do my head in again about his solar power.  Don't get me wrong, I love that we have free hot water but honestly, I don't need to know about the inner workings of the solar roof panels.  Just too much information.  I am feeling a big glazed already. 

Our neighbours asked the other day if they could put up a swing on a bit of our land, which is adjacent to their garden, for their little boy who is three years old.  We told them that would be okay but I've just looked over and there's now a bouncy castle, a tent and a bunch of kids running around squawking.  Is it just me, or do you think that's a bit cheeky of them?  Folks eh?  Give 'em an inch....

...and the good news is, it's St Swithin's day....and the sun is shining - Yippeeee!!

So we are just having a nice quiet Sunday.  Hope yours is good too. 

Squawk soon, mes amis.

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Olympic Bore

Is it just me, or is anyone else completely bored already with all the Olympic hype?  I admit, I am not a sporty person and the only sport I like is Formula 1 and Wimbledon Tennis, which involves the art of sitting on my botty and watching on TV. 

Why do they need so many people to run round the UK with the Olympic torch?  Why don't they just ask a few really fast athletes to do it?  They'd get it done much quicker that way.  It makes me laugh they way it is all taken so seriously.  I mean, does a flame really need so many bodyguards?  It is taken so seriously that a woman in Lincolnshire, who wrote something on her Facebook wall about putting the flame out with her son's water pistol, had the police at her door questioning her as if she was a terrorist.  What is that all about?  It begs the question, out of the squillions of Facebook accounts, how on earth did they manage to home in on that woman's FB page so quickly, especially if it was not an 'open' account? 

I think it's hilarious the way that some games are now an Olympic sport, like Ping Pong for example.  Imagine the ancient Greeks playing Ping Pong (hey, Achilles, the ball was in!...You cannot be serious, Zeus!)...or Beach Volley Ball for that matter (Athena, you great numptie, you've broken my nail with that throw.  That bloody ball is heavy!). 

I know that security has to be tight for the Olympics but to put surface to air missiles on the top of a block of flats in London, and then tell the world on mainstream media that they are doing it, is just beyond a joke don't you think?  If anyone was thinking of attacking, they would just have to look for that particular block of flats on Google Maps.  Why advertise it to the world?  What about the poor b****ds that live in the flats? 

Anyway, just had to get it off my chest, so to speak.  The Printemps household will definitely be an Olympic-free zone this summer.  I'd rather watch paint fact, maybe I'll just do that. 

Squeak soon, mes amis.

Friday, 15 June 2012

A Few Little Molly Musings for the Weekend

Well, today I had my final appointment with Dr Sultana re: broken wrist.  I waited for around half an hour in the waiting room and then was in and out in 30 seconds.  Phew!  Everything is back to normal again, so I can now play the violin (joke!). 

We had a nice Jubilee Saturday lunch with our friends William and Kate (no relation!).  William is a farmer friend from oop the lane.  It got a bit chilly later on so we ended up coming inside and Kate and me sang along to my Gilbert O'Sullivan CD - remember him girls?  William got a bit squiffy on the red wine so Kate had to drive them back oop the lane - a rare occurence for him to let her drive his Porsche Boxter (or is it Boxer?) as it's his mid-life crisis toy.  Am I getting a sense of deja vu here? 

Meanwhile, back at our village Inconvenience Store, the ditzy blonde manageress, Samantha,  has left her long term boyfriend for a delivery driver who was just about to get married and called it all off, leaving his former fiance completely devastated.  I tell you, it all happens in this village. It's better than Emmerdale, believe me.

...and another thing.  Can't believe my brother.  He actually went to Screwfix and loved it.  Must be a man thing.  Or maybe there's a cute little girl behind the counter called Epinine who has black spider leg eyelashes.

Have a good weekend, mes petits choux

Friday, 25 May 2012

On Rusty Nails

Well, I am officially accident prone.  Today I was tidying the jungle that is my front garden when I accidentally stood on a nail that was poking out of a piece of wood...that the builders had kindly left when they were doing our extension.  Now having to have a little trip to the doctors to get a tetanus jab.  It's just as well nobody was walking down our lane because they would have been shocked at my language.  I was effing and blinding and hopping about like a mad woman.  I would have frightened any small children who happened to be passing by.  Must have a word with Roy, our builder, and kick his sorry ass - with my right foot (the left one is now incapacitated). 

Roberto is in his shed at the moment trying to rig up a flagpole for his Union Jack for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.  I can hear a lot of hammering going on, and a bit of swearing as well.  I have some Union Jack bunting for him to put up as well and some Union Jack napkins and cups.  Should be a laugh when we invite our friends round who are a bit anti-Royal.  Can't wait. 

We have had glorious sunshine all week.  It feels like being on holiday - it's wonderful.  Hope it's just as wonderful where you are, chers amis.

Bon Weekend!

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Don't You Just Love Betty & Beryl?

A huge congratulations to Betty and Beryl who are aged 90 and 86 respectively.  Not only do they have a hilarious local BBC radio show in Hull but they won a Sony award the other night for the best radio entertainment show in the UK.  It just goes to show that you are never too old to be successful.  Well done ladies!! 

Saturday, 5 May 2012

Bank Holiday Musing

I'd like to do cartwheels round the garden now that I am free of the plaster on my broken wrist, but unfortunately, I can't just yet.  Am working on it though.  That little hospital in Goole is amazing, and I am saying that as someone who just doesn't 'do' illness of any sort.  I was in and out in one hour, plaster free and on my way home - wahay!!  I asked the doctor, whose name was Dr Sultana,  if I would be able to play the violin now and he said 'did you play the violin before?'  I replied, 'No...just thought I'd ask.'

The rain has finally stopped in East Yorkshire and the sun is shining, although it's still bitterly cold.  Have you noticed how nobody says "global warming" any more?  They now say "climate change."  I've got news for you...climate changes every day - deal with it!

Anyway, have a good Bank Holiday weekend chers amis.

Friday, 27 April 2012

Drought, My A**e!

The whole of East Yorkshire has been declared as being a drought zone.  I am at a loss to understand why, since it has been raining non-stop for the best part of three weeks.  In fact, it rained so much that I thought I was back in Glasgow. 

The other day I even needed my drought umbrella just to get from the car to the bank - a two minute walk.  Yes, dear followers, I can drive short distances now.  I still have a plaster on my broken wrist but it's not aching so much now.  I drove through deep drought puddles all this week during my little trips through drought land.  Roberto was stressing about me getting the car wet after he had waxed it last weekend.  I told him not to worry because it wouldn't get wet because of the serious drought conditions.

Anyway, enough of that.  The world is crazy enough already, don't you think? 

Last weekend I had uncontrollable hysterics in the Screwfix shop.  I was reluctant to go because it's just SO boring but Roberto needed a bit of pipe for our new Belfast sink, so off we trotted to the new Screwfix in Goole. 

A little girl called Epinine, who looked about 12 years old, took Roberto's order and that was all fine.  Then from the back of the shop this big lanky guy who worked in the warehouse came out and started talking to Epinine.  Now, the poor guy had a speech impediment, and please don't think I laugh at people with problems, but it was so unexpected and I got a bit of a fright.  It sounded as if he was talking out of his nose - I have never heard anything like it in my life.  Well, my face was bright red with trying to hold in the laughter. I had to put my head down and my shoulders were shaking.  The little girl behind the counter started laughing as well because she realised what I was laughing at.  Eventually, unable to control myself, I said to Roberto "I have to leave right now."  I can't ever go back there - RESULT!!

I'm loving The Voice on BBC1 on Saturday evenings. is just wonderful.  I just watch it for him really. 

Have a good weekend, mes amis.

Saturday, 21 April 2012

It's Just Nuts!

My sister, Katy Moon went to watch my lovely niece and nephew snowboarding during the Easter holidays.  While she was there, she was starving and fancied a bag of peanuts.  She went to the kiosk and asked for some salted peanuts.  The guy behind the kiosk said "sorry, but we can't sell peanuts during the school holidays because of kids getting nut allergies."  Katy then went over to the vending machine and bought a Snickers bar (Marathon bar to you and me!).  What is that all about?

Overheard conversation of two West Yorkshire ladies:-

"We love the East Coast.  I was just saying to Bert, if one of us dies, I will definitely move here."

It's been raining on and off in East Yorkshire for the best part of two weeks and further downpours are forecast for the next week.  On our local news, there was a Lincolnshire farmer, up to his welly-clad ankles in water trying to convince us that the soil was still dry. Drought, my a**e! It's all just nuts, I tell you. 

Bon Weekend, mes amis.

Saturday, 7 April 2012

Goodwood, Here We Come!

Roberto and I are booking up for the Goodwood Festival of Speed again, only we're going for two days this year - there's so much to see.  Thought we might do a bit of celebrity house spotting while we are down south.  We already have a photo of Eric Clapton's house  (Roberto made me climb up on a fence to take the photo!).  I've actually met the man himself  at the carousel in Nice Cote d'Azur Airpot.  I went up to him with my little shaky paws and asked for his autograph - he was collecting his own luggage, believe it or not.  The French twits didn't know who he was. We've also been to see Elton John's holiday house in the hills outside Nice and we've seen Nellcote, the huge house in Nice where the Rolling Stones stayed in the 70's. 

This year we are going to try and find Robin Gibb's big pad, JK's and Chequers - not that we are stalkers, you understand - just interested in how the other half live.  You can't always see a lot because of high walls and hedges and sometimes you only see a gatehouse but it's fun finding out where they all live - proper celebs, I mean, not thick footballers or reality TV numpties. 

There will be some celebs at Goodwood as well.  I saw Liz Hurley with Shane Whatsit last year - you know that Aussie cricketer she re-styled into a clone of Hugh Grant?  Also hoping to see a few Formula 1 drivers (though hopefully not Lewis Hamilton.  Don't you think he's turning into a great big whinging woos?).  Will keep you posted, chers amis

Sunday, 1 April 2012

Poisson D'Avril

I saw a funny April Fool's joke this morning on Facebook.  Apparently it came on TV during a commercial break and said "DFS Sale Ends Today."

Saturday, 31 March 2012

Molly is Incapacitated

Dear followers, I am writing this post with one hand so please bear with me if it seems to be slow. I still can’t believe what happened to me the other night. Still half asleep, I decided to go downstairs in the middle of the night for a glass of water. I must have missed a step and went tumbling down and found myself at the bottom of the stairs. Managed to pick myself up again with aching left wrist and throbbing neck. Didn’t realise my wrist was broken and didn’t really fancy a trip to Hull Royal Infirmary (you go there to die!), so I went back to bed, with Roberto’s help and waited for daylight.

In the morning Roberto took me to Goole hospital as there was no way that I was going to Hull Royal. At Goole I was treated by kind and caring nurses and a doctor fairly quickly and was home by lunchtime. If it had been Hull, I would still be waiting for the dead-behind-the-eyes ghoulish people who work there in slow motion. It's too scary to contemplate. Holby City it ain’t!

Anyway, have since been back to Goole hospital for follow-up appointment.  Roberto and I got the giggles when the receptionist asked me what my ethnic origin was.  Wanted to say "black Irish" but they wouldn't have believed me, with my Scottish accent.  The nurse asked me what colour of plaster I wanted.  I could have had Barbie pink or purple.  What is that all about?  I am a grown woman aged 40-la-la, not a five-year-old child.  You will be pleased to know I settled for a sensible white plaster.  It won't clash with any of my outfits.  I was in and out of the hospital in just over an hour.  If I had gone to Hull, I would probably still be there, lying forgotten in the scary waiting area.

Sunday, 25 March 2012

Spring Forward

Did you all remember to put your clocks forward this weekend?  The Printemps household didn't.  I came downstairs this morning, thinking it was 8 o' clock, only to look outside and see Roy (builder) sitting dozing on a garden chair on our patio in the early morning sunshine.  He must have heard me pottering about in the kitchen and started to knock on the back door.  It was too late for me to hide.  I was still in my jimmy jams and dressing gown, no make up on and my hair was sticking up all over the place.  As I answered the door Roy said, "Where's Molly?  Oh, it is you."

He had driven here in his itsy bitsy teeny weeny Stuart Little red sports car to have a chat with Roberto about a job.  Roberto was still in bed snoring away, completely oblivious, so I ran upstairs and dragged him out of bed because I didn't want to listen to Roy geeking me out about what he could do on his computer (it's state-of-the-art apparently). 

They are still working on Shaz's barn conversion so they were discussing what they were going to get up to when Shaz goes on holiday.  The little mice will play (Roy = Stuart Little).  I overheard them talking about patio furniture so possibly they are planning an illicit BBQ in between laying the wood floor. 

Talking of putting the clocks forward reminds me of the time my late mother-in-law, Beatrice Printemps, put them forward, only she did it in the autumn when they should have gone back an hour.  We were going for Sunday dinner at 3pm and she phoned at 1pm in a panic and very annoyed saying "Where are you, it's 3 o' clock and the dinner will be ruined?"  I said "Beatrice, it's only 1 o' clock."  She replied "No, it's 3 o' clock.  I've been watching the news on TV and they've got it wrong as well."

Anyway, must dash and put the clocks forward before I forget. 

Sunday, 11 March 2012

On Hell Being Other People at B&Q

On Saturday Roberto and I had a little trip into B&Q.  It's not my favourite place to be but we had to buy some wallpaper to get on with the never-ending decorating in our house.  We found some nice wallpaper and got everything else that we needed and then went to the checkouts to pay.  It's a huge B&Q and there were only three tills open.  There were crowds of people queuing and, being typically British, did not complain.  I noticed that one queue was smaller than the others but there was a girl standing in the middle of two checkouts holding a plant pot.  I said "Excuse me, are you in this queue?"  Before she had a chance to answer, this big rough looking woman in front of her with straw hair growled, "We're all just waiting to see which one empties first."  Being typically British myself, I said nothing and went to the back of the queue.  I should have said to her "You can't be in two queues at once," but she was big and scary looking so I kept quiet. 

Anyway, we eventually got nearer to the tills and the people in front of us were just about to pay when there was a query about a bar code.  The checkout girl had to ring a bell for a supervisor to come over and then he had to go and find the price at the other end of this huge store.  We started to lose the will to live so I said "Let's go," to Roberto and we went to the next till.  Well, we were standing behind someone with a huge trolley of plants and garden stuff and the 12 year old boy who was serving them had a query about a price and was on the phone to someone (probably his mother) trying to sort out the problem.  Roberto and I both said at the same time, "Come on, let's go."  We went back to the wallpaper department and put everything back and ran for the hills. 

The thing is, this happens to us every time we go to B&Q so I have told Roberto that I am never going there again, unless it is a matter of life or death.  We went to Homebase instead.  It was a much more positive and pleasant experience. 

The moral of the story is, don't put up with crap service any more, even if you are British!

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

The Builders and the Full Moon

I don't know if you've noticed before but on the run up to a full moon, there is usually a bit of chaos or strange happenings in everyone's lives.  With me, I usually meet strange people who are badly affected by the full moon and only come out on a full moon week.  I seem to attract them.

My husband, Roberto, and Roy the builder and others are still working on the same barn conversion.  Their full moon week has gone a little bit like this:-


Big Shaz, the barn owner upsets Roy by saying he's not happy with the way the building job is going.  It's just not quick enough. 

Roy phones Roberto and is whinging down the phone, while glugging a bottle of red wine, for an hour on Monday evening, and is very upset.


Big Shaz tells Roberto that Roy is very upset with him.  Roberto then sees them shaking hands - they've kissed and made up. It's now back to being best of friends again. 

Big Shaz then proceeds to upset the neighbour, Mrs Tesco Advert Man, who has just been to the station to collect Mr Tesco Advert Man and came home to find some of her drive had been dug up for Big Shaz's water pipes.  Raised voices are heard.  Big Shaz comes back into the barn. 

Tesco Advert Man follows him into the barn - sunglasses on, trendy bomber jacket and stomach hanging out, saying "You've just insulted my wife."  Big Shaz goes to apologise, comes back cursing. 

Plasterer is then heard cursing the plumber for not sorting out the pipes properly so he can plaster.  Then he is cursing the electrician for not sorting out his wires properly and proceeds to plaster over them. 


Roberto asks Big Shaz (he big doctor) to look at his leg because his knee is swollen.  Big Shaz says he needs a scan.  Roberto says "Fluff off, you only know about stomachs anyway."

The plasterer's young assistant, on seeing Mr and Mrs Tesco Advert drive past in their big car:

"Chuffin' hell, that bloke looks just like the bloke on The Full Monty."

Plasterer: "It is him, you muppet!"

Don't worry, mes amis, it will all be over after Thursday's full moon, with any luck.

A bientot.

Wednesday, 29 February 2012

You Make me Feel so Young make me feel as though spring has sprung....

You know you're getting older when you find yourself in a garden centre on a Sunday afternoon buying primroses and your husband is twitching to get back home to polish up his new Jag AGAIN, even though it hasn't left the garage since he bought it.  (apologies, blog followers,  I think we've heard enough about Roberto's eff-off blue Jag now don't you?).  While in the garden centre we meet an elderly friend of Roberto's mother, the late Beatrice Printemps, who likes a yarn and he looks like he wants to run for the hills.  We're still there standing talking half an hour later and Roberto is switching from foot to foot, his meerkat eyes scanning for the exit, ready to dart for the door at the earliest opportunity.  I think I'll go on my own the next time. 

...and every time I see you grin, I'm such a happy individual...

Tomorrow, 1 March 2012, is World Book Day and my lovely niece, Anna Nokerova (9) is going to school  dressed up as Laura Ingalls (remember Little House on the Prairie, girls?) .  I made her the outfit, complete with pinny and bonnet and my mother found her an old fashioned pail in the pound shop to take her lunch to school in (me moother will die of embarrassment because I've just told you all that she went into the pound shop - don't worry moother, we're only pretend people on the blog!).  Anna is having pigtails, with no bobbles at the top, for that authentic Laura look.  Sorry I won't be able to post a photo of her on here, but you get the idea. I'll let you know if she wins a prize for the best outfit. 

..bells to be rung and a wonderful fling to be flung....

It will soon be the wedding season and I just wanted to add a little plug for my sister, Katy Moon, who designs and makes the most beautiful tiaras and head pieces for brides and their entourages, mothers, aunties, etc etc.  Her link is here.

So glad that spring/printemps is on its way, mes amis

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Mine's Bigger Than Yours!

Well, there they were on Sunday, sitting round our kitchen table discussing their big sports cars.  Roy the builder and Bob the plumber had called in to have a look at Roberto's new old sporty Jaguar.  They all have convertible sports cars (it's an age thing, you know!) and they were sitting round our table discussing the best points of their own cars, all talking over each other.  It was just like "mine's bigger than yours" in the school playground.  I said above that they were discussing their big sports cars but Roy's is only the size of Stuart Little's - same colour as well.  He also has a Stuart Little boat for fishing but that's another story.

Bob has Jaguar envy now.  He has a lovely old Alpha Romeo sports car which he loves but when he saw Roberto's new one, he said "did you see my face, Roberto...did you see my face when I saw your Jag?" Let me tell you mes amis, he was drooling over Roberto's eff-off blue Jag. Boys and their toys eh?

Last night we were watching TV.  The windows and curtains were closed.  Well, I heard this shrieking noise outside and thought that someone was being attacked.  Looked out of the living room window and it was that bloody woman with the deaf dalmations (see previous post).  That's how loud she is, like a bloody fishwife on Hull docks, when we still had a fishing industry, that is.  I much prefered it when we had the little elderly couple with the sausage dog next door.  Nice quiet neighbours, dog with good hearing. 

Squawk soon. 

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Roberto's Eff Off Blue Jaguar

Well, mes amis, today we went over the Humber Bridge to Lincolnshire to collect Roberto's new car.  It's not brand new, it's a 1996 Jaguar XK8 and he describes the colour as Eff Off Blue (very good description, actually). 

I had to drive our car home and Roberto had told me to take the first turn off after the petrol station at the roundabout.  Well, he had gone into the petrol station with his new toy to get some juice and the turn off he had mentioned didn't have any signposts for the Humber Bridge so off I went round the roundabout again until I realised that I was right the first time around, even though there were no signposts. So far so good.  I arrive at the Humber Bridge toll booth...I can't reach the man in the booth to give him my money - eeek!! Had to get out of the car and felt like such a lemon.  I hadn't seen any sign of Roberto since he stopped off at the petrol station and I was a bit worried that the new (old) car might have broken down.  Well, I was just toddling along the A63/M62 and this blue flash of lightening (an eff off blue kind of colour) went whooshing past me and arrived home a good ten minutes before I did. 

Roberto is so happy with his new toy.  He has been outside since lunchtime polishing it up and admiring it, revving up the engine etc know, like you boys do?

So, I have revealed his little secret that he didn't want anyone to know about yet.  He reads these posts and says "what are you writing that for?"  I say to him "Roberto, you don't seriously think that people who read this think that we are real people do you?"

Have a good weekend mes amis.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

Roberto's New Toy

Well, my big news is that....Roberto Printemps has just bought a new J....oops, I forgot, he told me not to tell anyone yet!  Will have to reveal that one to you all later, or he might have to kill me.  Anyway, he refused to take me with him to buy his new J...... because I always laugh as soon as he starts negotiating - I just can't help myself.  It's usually the look of horror on the seller's face that makes me laugh. 

Anyway, I will be able to reveal all after the weekend.  I'll just give you a clue.  It's a male mid-life crisis kind of thing. 

Don't tell anyone yet.  This post will self-destruct in 3 seconds!

Squeak to you soon, mes amis

Friday, 10 February 2012

A Little Winter Musing

We've had some snow here in East Yorkshire, maybe about 4 or 5 inches and as usual the newspaper headlines are screaming "Freak Weather Conditions."  Please get a grip, guys in the media (in London), it's not freak weather, it's not global warming - IT'S WINTER!!!

I'm too much of a woos to drive on icy roads, the main reason being that Roberto would be completely devastated if his beloved Jag ended up in the ditch, especially if he'd just washed it.  So I've just been for a walk to our little newsagent's shop and on the way back I saw a woman on our lane with two dalmations.  Well, she was screaming at the top of her voice on them - she would have put a fishwife to shame the way she was hollering.  Then I remembered that dalmations can be deaf.  Either the dogs were deaf or she was!  God, what a noise. 

Roy the builder is missing me, or rather he is missing working in our house.  Roberto and Roy are currently working on a barn conversion and it happens to be a drafty barn oop a hill in the middle of nowhere, with only one neighbour, the man from the Tesco advert.

Roy was completely spoiled rotten when he was working at our house.  I must have made about 20 cups of tea a day, there were always plenty of biccies, ice lollies on the hot August days and home-made soup on the cold November days, and a few toasted tea cakes thrown in for good measure.  I even bought them all cream cakes when it was Roy's 50th birthday.  God, I must have been mad.  No wonder Roy is pining.  Now they have to be content with flasks of tea.  Don't you just hate the taste of flask tea?  It tastes more of the flask than it does of tea.  Luckily Willie the window fitter has been to the barn to fit new windows so it's not so drafty for them working inside. 

Anyway, more musings later, mes amis.

Bon Weekend!

Saturday, 4 February 2012

On Having the Call Centre Blues

Do you ever get those annoying phone calls from foreign call centres? You know how it goes..."hello, meesees Printemps, thees ees Chrees from .....unintelligible company name...We are today doing wee leetle survey and would like to ask you some questions.  Anyway, the other day I answered the phone and it was Chrees again.  He said to me "Hello, Meesees Printemps, my colleague has just been speaking to Mr Roberto Printemps..." 

This was Chrees' fatal error.  Apart from the fact that he hadn't even been in the house since 7.30 that morning, my husband, Roberto Printemps, does not do phones.  He does not speak to anyone from call centres, banks, double glazing companies etc etc.  If he does happen to answer the phone and it is Chrees doing a wee little survey, he usually tells Chrees that Roberto Printemps has run away from home and joined the circus (or more likely something ruder with swear words.)

I said "Hold it right there Chrees.  I know for a fact that your colleague DID NOT speak to Mr Roberto Printemps, so don't you dare lie to me and don't ever phone this number again."  I hung up on him, annoyed that he had lied to me.  Well, the next day, our phone rang about 20 times and each time I answered, there was a very loud slam of someone banging the phone down.  I think I might have upset little I look bothered?

Another time, I actually did agree to do a wee little survey.  The young girl sounded so nice and I felt a bit sorry for her having such a bloody awful job of phoning us poor impatient British people to ask stupid questions.  I answered some of her questions and then the next question was "would you consider donating to such & such a charity?"  I said "no, I wouldn't."  She said "I'll just repeat the question again Meesees Printemps.  Would you consider giving to such and such a charity?"  Again, "no I wouldn't."  She was slightly perturbed because I had given her the "wrong" answer.  Next question "would you consider donating to some dog charity or other?"  Again, "no."  "I will just repeat this question again......hello, hello...are you there Meesees Printemps?"

Monday, 23 January 2012

A Horsey Tale

There are some horsey ladies who ride up and down our lane.  Nothing wrong with that.  The thing is, they all wear these high visibility bright yellow vests  with "Polite Notice, please drive slowly" written on the back.  Now, at first glance, it looks like "Police Notice".  Okay..with me so far?  On their riding hats, they also have this blue and white checked tape.  They actually look like police people on horseback.  Why would you want to look like a police officer unless you are on some kind of power trip, or maybe you are just a bossy old moo and want to frighten people in their cars?  The next time I drive past them, I might just drive fast and see if they chase me. Do you dare me?

One of the horsey ladies once accused poor old Mr Forrester (80) of racing down the lane at break-neck speed in his car and trying to kill her entire family, who were walking down the lane.  Now, I find this very hard to believe because in all the years I have lived in this village, I have only ever seen Mr F driving at about 15 miles an hour.  Mrs Angry even called the police and reported him.  The poor old soul was really shaken up by it all but thankfully she was told to stop wasting police time.  Phew!  I had visions of having to make him a cake with a saw hidden in the middle to take to him in prison so that he could make his escape.
.....And another thing, why is it that the horses always want to poo right outside the entrance to our drive? It's just not funny, you know, especially if Roberto has just cleaned his car (it's his pride and joy).  In fact, when he has cleaned his car, he is very reluctant to let me go out in it and likes to keep it in the garage until the rain stops.  I know, girls, it's a man thing!  Funnily enough, I always thought cars were self-cleaning. 

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

The Inconvenience Store

 The Inconvenience Store is a small supermarket in our village, in which the concept of customer service is completely alien to the majority of staff who work there (including the managers).  They look at you with their dead eyes as if you are an annoyance, forgetting of course that the customers are paying their wages. There are sometimes two ladies serving behind the counter during the day, one who I shall refer to as Mrs Sourpuss because she has a permanent expression on her face as if she was sucking lemons.  When Mrs Sourpuss sees that there is a huge queue, she scowls at the patiently waiting customers and either walks away from the till or pretends she is busy doing something, scrambling around under the till pretending to be looking for something.  "We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through, trying to find lots of things not to do", as the song goes. 

There is also a lady who shouts at customers if they ask her to make up a sandwich after 2pm.  "Yer too late", She says, glaring at them, as if they've asked her for the contents of her bank account,  "I've cleaned up now". 

Sometimes there's no bread on the shelf in the Inconvenience Store, sometimes no milk or eggs, sometimes the kid behind the counter doesn't know what a leek is, and isn't particularly interested because there's a text coming through on his new iphone.  Sometimes said kid actually answers his phone when he is serving a customer..Grrrrrr!! The customers don't seem to complain but you can hear them sighing and huffing and puffing in the queue.  When there is only one person at the till and a big queue builds up, there is bell under the till that they are supposed to ring for another member of staff to come and serve.  We are waiting, waiting, waiting, the queue is growing and growing, then someone at the back of the queue loses the will to live and shouts out "Ring the effing bell would you Gladys, I want to get served before I die!"

The young kids/students who work in the Inconvenience Store have this glazed expression that descends upon them when, for example, your shopping costs £5.25.  You give them a £10 note and the 25p.  They hold the money in their hands, staring at it with panic in their eyes,  wondering what to do with it because they don't understand what it's all about.  Unbelieveably, these same kids all seem to want to go to university to study Rocket Science.  You just couldn't make it up!

The vegetables in the Inconvenience Store are a sight to behold.  I hesitate to use the word "fresh" as I might be contravening Trading Standards laws.  The carrots are usually covered with blue mouldy bits and I've seen one of the staff members pulling lots of dead leaves off cabbages and putting the tiny wilted cabbages back on the shelf.  The mangoes are always weeping (I know the feeling!) and the cucumbers are always soft and squidgy.  Courgettes?  Don't bother! 

The Inconvenience Store is the only shop in our village, but I no longer go in, unless it's wine o' clock and the wine rack chez nous  is bare,  and I only go in on the evenings when the one and only customer-friendly lady works there. 

Happy shopping, mes amis.

Wednesday, 4 January 2012

Reasons to be Cheerful - Un, Deux, Trois...

First of all I’d like to wish all my blog followers a Happy and Prosperous New Year.

This morning when I came downstairs, I caught Roy the builder sobbing into his cup of tea. "What the hell’s the matter with you Roy?", Said Roberto, my husband. In between sobs and sniffs, Roy spluttered, "She...she...Wilma won’t let me put up my poster in the living room". It turned out that Roy’s son had given him a life size poster of the girl from the Transformers film (not the alien girl, the other one) for Christmas and he wanted to put it in a prime location in the living room and Wilma was having none of it. "Jesus, Roy", I said, "I thought somebody had died the way you are going on". I have zero patience for 10 year old boy-men. Note to self: buy some darts for Wilma.

Well, things are really looking up in the Printemps household. I am delighted to announce that it is the final week of our building project and there will be no more workmen in our house after Friday - YIPPPPEEEEEEEE!!

Reasons to be Cheerful 1, 2, 3...

  • The money I will save on tea bags and biscuits will be enough to finance a Caribbean cruise, including spending money. Ditto our electricity bill from boiling the kettle 20 times a day.
  • There will be no more daily trips to B&Q or Screwfix (pulease!) for strange bits of plastic and pipe bits.
  • I will not miss Roy the builder arriving at 7.30am, working on the roof and banging on the bathroom window to give me the fright of my life when I am in the shower.
  • There will be no more drilling, hammering, radio blaring and Roy and Bob singing duets to Beyonce songs at the top of their voices.
  • I will no longer have to look at builders’ pants/bottom cleavages or listen to their stupid 10 year old boy jokes.
  • I will be able to look out of my upstairs landing window without someone standing on the roof looking back at me with a goofy grin.
  • I will no longer have to listen to Roy’s conversations...with himself.
  • I will never have to look at the plasterer’s assistant’s HUGE multi-coloured pants (sorry, pants again).
So, mes amis, this Friday I will mostly be doing cartwheels round the garden.

Update on Previous Post
The big black Bentley driven by the mysterious blonde lady was seen going up our quiet country lane again today, closely followed by several elderly neighbours travelling incognito en bicyclettes. Inspector Poirot, eat your heart out!

A bientot.