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.

Change of Plans

A little while ago, I told how I proposed to take The One With The Short Fat Hairy Legs out to a splendiferous meal in celebration of her milestone birthday. This was the "Old Man's Imponderable" entry down there below.

Now, being the sensitive and considerate gentleman that I am, as is well known in certain circles, I have taken heed of all the replies and suggestions so kindly offered by the many people who took the time to respond to my appeal.

Several people approved of my intentions, if not my choice of venue, but on reading the responses, I detected a certain hint of disapproval suggesting that I might do better for her. I got to thinking that maybe you were right, perhaps the place might not be quite suitable for the special occasion.

I was minded to change, to seek another place and this course was thrust upon me when I learned that the establishment of choice would not be open on a weekend! This caused me quite a lot of distress and extra effort, but, being me, and driven by the wish to 'do my Lady proud', I've located another place nearby.

It's rather more 'upmarket', I'm told, more salubrious in its clientelle, and is rather more expensive and 'classy'.

I'm sorry about the quality of the pic, but I had to 'snatch' it as we swept past, so as not to give the game away to You Know Who.

This is it.








One good thing. As it will be evening, we will be well placed for a romantic interlude. Just imagine, She and I, each with our Big McChoke, intimately settled in the car, watching the sunset's changing light reflected in the slurry ponds of the sewage treatment works.

What better could we have?

Dog Pee, Rain and can I go back to bed please.

Our poor little dog has tried his best to fit in to the family and we love him to bits, but I'm beginning to think hard about the slogan "a dog isn't just for Christmas" and am beginning to add the words "with a little care, there'll be enough left for Boxing Day". This morning, in the wee small hours, I was too tired to think about that, but not now, in the cold light of day.

Let me explain. Because he's a loveable, frisky, cuddly four-legged beast with a pair of heart-melting eyes, it doesn't mean that he can't be a little sod as well. Much like kids, I suppose. One minute you love 'em to bits, the next you want to strangulate the little buggers.

First, I have to explain how the little doggy woggy, Bracken by name, confirmed the safety of the new electric system, installed when they did some work on our house. Yes, THAT work, of which I was moved to write so feelingly.

They installed new wiring with a new distribution box, complete with Earth Leakage Trip, or Residual Current Device. I'm told that this enables the unwary householder to stick his fingers into any handy light socket without harm, though the practise is, quite understandably, discouraged.

With the previous distribution unit, we used to get the power cut off whenever a light bulb failed but, I'm pleased to say that this hasn't so far happened with the new one. I was a little concerned as to the effectiveness of the new one, until Bracken pissed on one of the wall sockets. This is a surface mounted box, installed when the council did their previous bodge job before we moved in here. This box is at floor level, within handy reach of the little sod if he's taken short and either doesn't want, or can't be bothered to go outside.

So when our furry family member proved the effectiveness of the residual current device, the power was instantly cut off and he didn't even receive a tingle in his todger - not that we know anyway. Whatever, the experience hasn't taught him to steer clear of that place, and there are no burn marks on the pooch that we have to explain away or camouflage.

At 1.30 this morning, all was well with the world, considering that we were a body short with No.2 still in hospital. Suddenly, the power went off, causing the phone belonging to No.3 to start chirping as his charger stopped doing its thing. He woke up, saw that the power was off and came to wake Herself and Yours Truly.

She clambered out of bed and went downstairs, stumbled around to find a torch and immediately the pair of them saw a wet patch on and around the offending power socket. Bracken! The little bugger been at it again.

While they were fiddling around with the power of a small torch, I came out of the bedroom and the first thing I saw was the green power light on my stairlift. So, I rode downstairs on it and on reaching the bottom, reached over their heads and switched on the houselights!

Different circuits!

Anyway, this gave the lad light to see what he was doing, so he removed the top of the power socket to find it wet inside, yellow wet, dog pee wet. The pair of them wiped this out with tissues then tried the trip on the consumer unit. No go, it still tripped out.

I had the idea that it might be the caravan feed at fault. No.1 has a caravan which he has parked in our front garden and recently took a feed from the house into it. Since he's had his 'relationship' issue with his girlfriend, he's been kipping in there. Now it's been raining cats and dogs and I suspected that the rain might possibly have leaked into the electrics in the caravan. I recalled him saying that there was a small problem in that quarter.

I asked No.3 to pull the plug on the lead to the van and hey presto! The power came back on.

So, it seems, the woolly maggot may not be wholly to blame for this morning's hiatus - it was probably the rain outside as well. Either one or t'other, but the fact that the power only switched back on when we detached the caravan cable - so the little bugger may be allowed to inhabit whatever quarter of the house he chooses, so long as he stops pissing on the power sockets!

And this is 'Good' ?

I don't think so.

I posted earlier in the week how our two elder sons (Nos.1&2) were admitted to our local hospital on consecutive days for different reasons. So many of you have been solicitous of their welfare, for which they and we, Herself and I, are very grateful.

Number 1 stayed overnight and one day before they released him, having deduced that an infection had caused his agonising and painful gut problems. Actually, it was a recurrance of a very old problem, one which he's had for some 20 years.

He is home, thankfully, revovering, and is back at work.

No.2, however, is something different. He went in, when was it? - Monday I seem to recall, when Herself took him to A&E as he was suffering from sudden pains in the chest and left arm, then right arm and then all over.

He was admitted there and then. They did all the heart monitor things with those electric pads all over the place and took blood samples etc. They said that the heart was OK, but said nothing more. As far as I'm able to report, from what has been told to me, they have told the lad nothing either.

He hasn't been seen by any specialist that he's aware of. He hasn't been made aware of any treatment program either, only that they constantly monitor blood pressure, temperature etc.

He's bored out of his mind and not knowing is playing on his mind.

Now, as to our own deductions, we can only surmise. From my own experience, they ruled out a stroke by the absence of tell-tale chemical in the bloodstream. We do not know what happened with the lad in that respect.

Herself is concerned because of what a friend told her. No.2 Son displayed exactly the same symptoms as did her (the friend's) daughter of the same age - sudden pain, loss of use etc. She was diagnosed with a mini-stroke.

The Lad told his Mam that several of his ward mates asked him what he was in for. Of course, the Lad didn't know, but described his symptoms. As one, they all said 'mini-stroke' - BUT WE DO NOT KNOW THIS OFFICIALLY!

We are not expert, and we have every right, as does the Lad, to know what it is, if anything, they have discovered and for what he is receiving hospital attention, and if nothing, then why is he detained there in the first place? The Lad is of a Majority, but being disabled, we are his Minders, as Herself is mine.

I myself deduce that they are monitoring and that conditions can be discovered by the simple blood pressure/temperature readings, heart rate etc - but it would be nice if they were to tell the Lad what is happening, don't you agree?

An old Man's Imponderable

Every so often, something crops up to tease a fellow and to wreak havoc with his reasoning processes. Best laid plans and all that.

Such a matter has arisen and I was, quite frankly at a point where I was quite literally going frantic with worry as to choice. Then I realised that I have out there in cyberspace, a whole host of friends only too willing and able to offer good advice, so here I am.

Let me set out my problem. No - firstly, I'll tell you of my plans, then I'll tell you of my problem, when I'll also specify the dilemma for which I seek advice.

Now, having been happily married to The One With The Short Fat Hairy Legs for what seems more than the 28 years it really is, a special anniversary is imminent, for which I have been repeatedly hinted at. Having recently forgotten our wedding anniversary, I was obliged to take Herself out for a meal - no, I tell a lie and to be honest, she took me.

This time, it is Her Birthday, an event which, I'm given to understand is quite important to Ladies in general. I cannot understand why. This one approaching, where Herself is concerned, is quite significant in that She has reached a Milestone.

She will reach the ripe O*d A*ge of fififififif- sorry but it would be churlish of myself to say it, even amongst friends like yourselves. It

You'll just have to trust me when I say it's important. Very Important.

So, as a token of my abiding love and deep respect, and my wish to do something very special to celebrate the Occasion, I have decided to take Her out for a meal, a Very Special Meal, an expensive meal, a memorable meal. I've scoured the area, seeking advice here, there and everywhere and have dug into my memories, such as they are, and have finally chosen the place and the time.

It was a difficult choice, but this roadside emporium won and I have to tell you, I'm pleased. We can look forward to a tasty meal in comfortable surroundings. Although the place is quite bijou, there is absolutely no sacrifice of quality, it does have good bathroom facilities, as you can see and is within easy reach of the road, although it does sometimes get a little noisy, and rocks a little when the heavies roll past.

OK, I'm no fool, though there are those would argue that point, but the decider for me, the final point which caused me to choose this place is their speciality The Belly Buster.

Here's a simple one.

The one with which I've decided to treat My Lady's palate have a much more satisfying filling:-

Large cob (Oven Bottom)

Fried Tomato,

Fried Bacon (2 rashers)

Fried Egg (2)

Fried Sausage (2)

Fried Onion (large spoon)

Fried Mushroom (2 large)

Fried Black Pudding (1 piece)

garnished with a piece of lettuce and all the tomato ketchup and brown sauce you want.

Pudding will be Boiled Spotted Dick with Custard.

There's a cup of tea included, but I'm not too sure about that after a recent incident when someone spilled their cup on the floor. This was wiped up and the floor became cleaner than ever before.

I know it would seem to cost a lot but it really is a bargain - something like £3 each ($6), so you see, it will be quite an expensive evening for me, but, as I said, it IS a special occasion - and She's worth every penny.

However - HERE IS MY PROBLEM - do we dress up, or should we go casual?