6th Sense, Coincidence or Wishful Thinking?

Do you believe in 6th sense? I understand that many claim to have it and that there are people who make a handsome living out of it - perhaps they do, perhaps they don't.

There are many well-documented cases of animals displaying it - dogs, horses, cats etc. We read almost every day of how someone's 'helper' dog saved their owner's life - indeed, in my paper only the other day was the report of how a cat, on it's owner taking suddenly ill, rushing outside and started tormenting the neighbour's dog, which created a racket.

The cat went on to jumping against the neighbour's windows and kept it up until she got their attention.She led hem to her mistress and they phoned the emergency services, so saving her life.

Now,back to my original question. Stay with me, we'll get there soon.

When it was arranged that dealing with Oscar would be left to The One With The Short Fat Hairy Legs, she enlisted the support of our No. 3 Son, who, it was agreed, would accompany her to the vet's and would drive home if She wasn't up to it.

Now, this was before I'd made the phone call and the arrangements. No. 3 was out and about this morning and had left his parked car to walk down the pavement (sidewalk). His walk took him past a recreation field, the gate to which was a style type.

No 3 was still a few yards from the gate when what could have been Oscar's twin came bouncing through the gate in exactly the same manner as Oscar used to do.

Son felt a twinge but then settled down but the dog came bounding up to him and circled him, sniffing his legs etc. Suddenly, the dog reared up and plonked his size nineteen paws on Son's chest, nuzzling him. Son burst into tears.

The man, thinking that his dog had frightened him, dragged the dog away, apologising profusely, but Son explained that he was not frightened and explained the full circumstances to the man.

The man, I am told, went pale and silent before walking away, but before he left, he was adamant that, in the 6 years that the dog had been with their family, he had never, ever jumped up to anyone like that.

So, back to my question - was this 6th sense, coincidence or merely wishful thinking?

Oscar The Lovable Lump

I told a little while ago, in certain newsgroups, that Oscar, my No.1 Son's loveable lump of a Chocolate Lab had contracted cancer and had been 'given' two months at the most.

Over the last few days, he's rapidly declined so that all characteristics of the loveable, frisky, playful and attentive Great Big Heffylump have disappeared, leaving a shell, a mere memory of his ebullient self. We know him so well because we 'borrow' him as his Daddy, who lives on his own with the 2 dogs, Sandy and Oscar, both Labs, and have done so for many years. Both dogs have, in fact, become full members of our family.

When No. 1 Son dropped him off here this morning at 4.00 am, he stated tearfully that he had come to the decision that he would not allow the big daft lump to degrade any more whilst suffering in the process.

To that end, it fell to me to make the painful and emotional phone call to arrange with the vet that he be taken in at 3.15 BST this afternoon, Monday 14th July 2014, when he would be assisted with dignity and compassion, over the Rainbow Bridge.

As I write this portion, it is 16.45 on 14th July, 2014. He fought the sedative, before giving up then tried to fight the main injection. He gave up after a few seconds and passed peaceably over the bridge. I like to think he lolloped over joyfully, as he used to do and that he has had time to get his bearings, so that he will be with others of his kind, pausing to smell the flowers, watch the birds and follow the clouds across the sky.
Pleasant daydreams, Old Feller.

R.I.P Oscar.

Just when you reach the point.....

of despair.

This was the sentence I intended to begin this blog with, for a very good reason. You know when you read the papers and watch the news on telly, and then you chat with your neighbour or with a colleague, and all you get is despair and despondency?

You reach a point when you ask yourself "is there any goodness left?".

Just in case you had reached that point, I'm here to tell you that "YES", there is.

Yesterday morning, She With The Short Fat Hairy Legs dragged me off to Sheffield with her, to Crystal Peaks shopping centre to be precise. It isn't the biggest centre in the country, but it is a fair size and therefore presents to me a far greater walking challenge than I could accept. Therefore, my little shopping buggy, electric go-cart, dune buggy, speed machine - call it what you will, was broken apart and loaded into the boot of the car.

On arrival, the dune buggy was reassembled ready for my use. Now, I have a bright yellow coat with reflective stripes for use with the buggy. This serves many purposes; it makes me a highly visible object to other street users, it keeps the rain and the wind out and it has fairly large pockets.

I donned my coat, carefully making sure that my little shoulder-hung card/phone wallet was safely tucked away, and orf we went, into the Shopping Centre, firstly to find Her Dad and sisters at the little cafe where we were to have a little brekky and a natter.

After that, She went shopping - here there and everywhere, the end resuly being that my little dune buggy was loadede with bags hung from the handlebars, in the basket, on the platform and so on. I must have looked a rare sight, me in the yellow and white reflective striped jacket and all those coloured carrier bags.

We were on our last run, with one call to make before our exit and were headed for the Sky tv gondola where they were flogging their services. I thought they might be able to answer a question I had.

Anyway, there we were, me running slowly since the buggy will run faster than She walks, whereas when I'm afoot, She is the faster of the two. We were almost where we wanted to be when I felt a tap on my left shoulder. I turned my head, expecting to see one of my sisters-in-law, but no, no sight of them, so I carried on.

It was a gentleman who came up behind me who had tapped me, to tell me that I was about to lose something on the floor. Sure enough, trailing on the tiled floor, was my card/phone wallet, held tenuously by its thin strap.

Picking it, I could see the strands of thread where the strap had come away from the wallet proper and it was only the pressure of the big jacket now holding the other end inside its folds.

I called 'thank you very much' to the gentleman, but all I could see was a departing back amongst many, disappearing into the maze of the market. Since the man had come up from behind and had carried on walking as I tended to the recovery of the item, I didn't get to see who he was and could not recognise him again.

Thank you Sir, whoever you are, you've given me cause to hope that the goodness left in the world is still there, waiting for an opportunity to show itself.

It's bloody well gone!

My car, that is.

Stolen, borrowed, nicked, mislaid or whatever, the effect is that I'm beredft of that piece of machinery that gave me my independence.

I'm not exactly housebound, but I have to rely on others if I want to go anywhere and I don't like it. The car was not exactly the most luxurious or comfortable, but it worked and it got me around in reasonable comfort. Now, I'm obliged to rely on the Missus' little roller skate, which is most uncomfortable.

What happened was this. We were due to go away on a long-booked week's holiday and, during the immediate week previous, the car started to give off 'bag of hammers' type noises. This was diagnosed as hydraulic pump on the stearing. Not wanting to pay sky high and extortionate prices for what is, after all, an old car, my youngest lad, who's training to be a Land Rover mechanic, found a pump on the web, at a reasonable price.

It was touch and go whether this pump would arrive in time to be fitted in time for us to take the car on holiday, but arrive it did. The Lad said that, if it didn't arrive in time, then we could make other arrangements and he would arrange for the car to be taken over to where he works, where he would fit the part and would change the filters and oil, and give it a going over, ready for our return.

He managed to fit the pump on our drive, on the Friday evening, prior to our going away on the Saturday morning, so, as far as he was concerned he could go away for the weekend in the knowledge that we were sorted.

He left on the Saturday morning for his 'thing', which was to go off roading in souped up motor cars, an activity which I've recorded elsewhere. However, Missus had, when things were uncertain, arranged with her Dad to come over and take us on holiday, as her car is totally unsuitable.

When my car was fixed, she told her Dad thanks, but he wouldn't be needed, BUT, overnight, I had a 'funny do' and was not at all well, so, unbeknownst to me or anyone else, she phoned her dad late on Friday night to say the arrangement was on!

So, he turned up and his car was loaded up with my scooter and the luggage, plus us of course, and off we went, leaving my car on the drive.

On the Monday evening, th youngest Lad returned home, noticed that the car wasn't there, which is exactly as he expected, so it wasn't until we rolled home on the following Saturday, IN GRANDDAD'S CAR, that the penny dropped.

Mine was missing!

We made what enquiries that we could, and by this time, I, being a bit poorly, was somewhat dischuffed, so didn't report it until the next Monday morning.

I was given an incident number by the Police call centre and 2 days later, was given a crime number by the Police! I could then report to the insurance people.

There has been no news as yet.

What is it with these kids?

To tie up with this, my latest 'Grumpy Old Man' piece, you may need to look down below to the picture wot I posted with the 'Careless or Stupid' item.

To the right there, behind the Baghdad type concrete bollards, is a sort of green which is, in fact formed by the corner of the two roads, as the houses there are set back. Kids play on there from time to time, which is fine by me, since it is relatively safe for them, except when they play ball games which are forbidden.

The number of times one sees someone kick a ball onto the road and someone to race after it, regardless of traffic. A couple of weeks ago, I saw two kids, about the age of 10 or 11 - old enough to have a modicum of sense, you'd think. They each had a golf club, and they were driving stones, pebbles, rocks, whatever you want to call those smallish pieces of natural hardware.

When I saw them last time, one of them managed to connect with a stone, which flew and struck the side of one of the cars parked at the side of the road there. The two lads ran home like the devil himself was after them, away up the road and out of sight.

You'd think they'd learned something from that experience, yes?

Wrong! The little buggers are back. They're hitting stones in all directions, towards the houses and towards the cars. Glass windows are fragile and are easily broken, you know! Perhaps they know that too?

There's no point in ringing the police, as I know from experience they won't be the slightest bit interested. I'd hate to think what might happen should they actually strike a car or house window and the owner should happen to see it!

The 'Happy Birthday' Party

I thought I was being clever, but it turned out I was not quite as smart as I thought I was, or as I'd like to be. It's a long story, so please bear with me.

So, She With The Short Fat Hairy Legs has reached a milestone birthday, and to mark same, She began dropping hints many many months ago that sh would enjoy a birthday bash, much the same as one we attended way back at the beginning of the year. That was when she got the idea, and began dropping hints.

Of course, we took no notice.

Recently, we both of us forgot our Anniversary until such time as we were reminded of it by the receipt of cards and congratulations and all that stuff that the Ladies seem to enjoy (is this a built-in trait, I wonder?).

So, when She took me out for a meal to mark the occasion, I told her that this would probably upset what I had planned for her birthday. You see, I'd remembered all on my own account, without help, that her birthday was coming up. I told her then that I was going to take her out for a quiet meal, just the two of us. Naturally, she wanted to know 'where?' but I told her to wait and see.

Now, having made all the necessary arrangements, the idea was for me to shoot off with the Birthday Girl, leaving the kids to follow by a different route. She was all ready to leave them to their own devices and had told them in no uncertain terms that they were on their own for a while. When No.3 asked if he could come, I heard her use a word I'd never ever heard her use before! Obviously, she was looking forward to the intimacy of a romantic evening with the most handsome chap in the world.

However, No.1 son's car is off the road, so they were short of transport, as they now intended to pinch Her little car for the occasion, which would hold only 4 bodies. As it happens, No.2 has just spent the week in hospital, so I told Her that our Daughter would have to come with us because No. 3 was off somewhere with No. 1 and No.3 wasn't up to looking after her.

Mrs.G accepted this and our 12 year old little lady fell in with it - objecting and moaning like a teenager.

So, come the night, I had to get Her out of the way, not too early and not too late, as I had to give the others some space and time to get ready and get there before us.

So, all prettied up in our best bib and tuckers, I set off to 'find' somewhere to have a meal. We looked at the Lock Keeper, we ruled out The Roman's Rest and discovered that The Parish Oven in Thorpe Salvin doesn't serve on a Sunday after 4pm.

There was nothing that I fancied in Harthill and so we paused at the Treble Bob in Barlborough. We'd been here before but it has changed hands and No.1 had recently been there. So, sitting in the car park there, I rang him to ask him (in a clear voice) whether it was worth the effort.

He told me that things were not quite ready and people were still arriving and to hang on a long as possible.

Problem and Herself was getting fidgetty, but the little one chimed in, as arranged "What about The Half Moon, Daddy? We've been there before, and I like it."

So I agreed it was a good idea, but paused to take a look at the De Rhodes Arms. This was getting awkward, so I was obliged to set out towards the Half Moon.

"It's a good job there's no traffic behind you!" say's Herself.

"Why?" says I, innocently.

"Cos you're driving so slow!" says She.

"So? We're not in any rush, are we?"

"No, but I'm getting hungry."

So, when we rolled on down the hill to the Half Moon, I carefully checked to see if there was any danger, and parked in a spot reasonably close to the door. We parked up, and off She poddled to the door, leaving the Little One and yours truly to follow in her wake.

She passed out of sight round the corner of the pub and we heard a squeal of surprise? delight? wonnder? She had only gone and bumped into her Dad, who'd stepped outside for a cigarette!

OK, so this was a coincidence, as her dad tried to make out - maybe. She hurried inside to discover that it was no coincidence, as some 28 family and friends were there waiting for her to arrive.

There were tears, of course, but this did not spoil the evening as the Birthday Girl had the best evening that I could give her.

I'm rather pleased it went so well.

Happy Birthday Girl.

Careless or Stupid?

We live at the corner formed by two roads, the one being the main road through the estate and the other leading off to another section of the estate. Both are quite busy at times and the junction can be quite dangerous, especially when cars are parked close to the junction itself.

As you look at the picture, imagine a car parked on this side of the main road which sweeps from the front middle, down to the left. Picture this car just side of the bus stop (to the right, where you see the lamp standard), and you will then be able to imagine a blind spot at the junction proper as a car comes down the road.

We get a lot of quickly moving cars, both up and down and round the corner into the side road.

A few days ago, I was standing in my yard, watching the traffic, when I saw a fellow on a bike on the pavement coming down towards me, past the bus shelter. He was in the company of what I guessed to be his little son, also on a bike, one of those tiny childrens' ones. They were both kitted out with helmets and the little kid had gloves, knee and elbow guards. All very proper.

When the little one reached the kerb, he stopped and waited for his dad. I heard the man tell the kid to look around, which he did and when they saw a car coming up the hill from my left (his right), wanting to turn right into the minor road, they waited. As soon as this car had turned and had moved away, the man told the kid to go and to wait the other side.

Only one small thing. He neglected to check to his right to see if anything was coming from behind. There was and fortunately, he was going slowly for his turn left. He was unsighted, due to the parked car. Had he been doing what many do, that is to screech round the corner, that little kid would not have stood a chance. As it was, he was able to stop, allowing the kid to continue across the road to the safety of the other pavement to my left.

A close call, I think.

The picture shows the layout which I have tried to describe.