Monday, 28 September 2009

Pratt Of A Cat Paw-dditions.......!

I've been clearing out my online photo albums and pictures that have been there for years started to appear again the more I deleted. Mostly (as much of a lambasting the cheaper-half gives me for snapping him!) of my older ginger cat, Simon. He's the cat I have loved most ever, in my history of catty pets. Loving , soft natured, talented (he can talk to you as future pictures will show!) and the biggest PRATT of a moggie I know. So, I've decided that at the end of future blogs here. - I'll be posting additional pictures of just how stupid (and funny) this animal has been over the years - apart from Sundays which will be solely for Sunday Snippets! Simon I love, you but sometimes.....................

PRATT OF A CAT - example 1

1. Never sneak in and bunk up beside the kettle because it's warm - you know you're not allowed and almost die, as your head hangs down almost cutting off your air supply when you're in slumberland...................................Pratt!

Saturday, 26 September 2009

The Big Announcement....

I hope it's not just my family (but knowing my lot - we will be!) but the men (and occasional female) always have an announcement to make. Usually on a daily basis.

They can go pee without trepidation, no real problem, but having a number two is different. I've tried to puzzle this one out in the past, thinking they'll grow out of it, but, alas, no!

"I'm off for a crap.......away for a shit.........needing a clear out." Are the ones usually kept within earshot of we immediate family.

'"Of for a tom-tit.........want a jobbie........taking a floury bap........" When there's relatives in - usually auntie's and uncles.

"God, here's last night's mudweiser".......oh, f*ck, I've a Marmite on.........I feel a bit of a buttflood brewing..... In front of anybody if it's the effect's of the morning after the night before.

Thank you, boys! I'm so very grateful that you feel the need to let the world and I know how clever and important or possibly scared you are but there's really no need! I know exactly where you're going and where you've been, and since I'm the only one who cleans out the toilet bowl - a fair idea of what went on in there!

Honestly - this must be some sort of deep-rooted need to be honoured or praised for what comes naturally. I now know why I occasionally find their mobile phone in the lav. If no-one's in SOMEBODY'S got to know! I'm just sad that I can no longer find the toilet paper of my primary school days. You know the one you could also use for tracing paper and making comb kazoo's out of......? Yes, that's the one - that made you walk like John Wayne after having to use it. If that stuff was still around it'd back them up for a fortnight!!

Tuesday, 22 September 2009

The Booby Trap

I have to admit, I was a successful breast feeder. I managed to feed all three of them, but only until around the 6 months mark. That was pure choice on my own behalf. I felt it was long enough and when the piranha affect kicked in (teeth!) it got a bit on the gritty side. So from there on it was rubber in the gob when it came to milk.

In antenatal classes, the midwife tries to convince you that the size of the breast doesn't matter, it's the amount of time the baby suckles that's important. Oh, and that breast-fed babies tend to sleep less, in fact, 2 hours at the most in the first month, so be prepared for extreme tiredness but think of the baby's future advantages, blah, blah, blah. Well, I hate to differ, but I'm going to!

My babies slept all night from very early ages. Kerri was 6 weeks (and from a previous marriage) Ross, 11 DAYS, (he had to be the show off) and Adam from 3 weeks. And I think it may have been because I have a huge pair of bazooka's!

This is by no means a brag, don't get me wrong, they've served their purpose and I'd whittle the bastards away if I came into some money coz they have also been the bane of my life - especially as a teenager. But I sincerely believe it was the size that helped, too. God, I used to wake every morning and they were like rocks because the milk built as the babies slept all night. The letdown reflex was like a lightening zap, but I managed to express a bottle's worth, in the mornings so the hubby could give a feed at night. This may all have been down to sheer luck, but when more and more ladies from the clinic meetings were having to give up, I felt that their poor little norks may have had something to do with it.

I know breast feeding's not for every one and I personally don't believe your kid'll turn into a superhero if it is. Healthy and happy is utmost however nutrition is consumed. God, I'd rather see a baby being bottle fed than some of the outrageous exhibitionists I've seen over the years. I always managed to find some public privacy while feeding my baby, people are fairly spare-room tolerant no matter where your travels take you. I've seen some mums virtually swinging them about on picnics and so forth, when being discreet isn't all that difficult. But I suppose the worst sight in the world to me, is a pregnant woman smoking. Mind you, Adam's first Xmas was the first time I had had a glass of wine in over a year. But that choochy wee face looks like it's looking forward to his next feed a little more than usual. Alcopoppet!

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Casino - Studio Students Get High!

Some may not know, but I love music. Not too many genre's. I hate R&B, metal, rap, dance (that the fucking most!) country and keech, and if I've offended anybody here, sorry, but I'd rather shove wasps up my arse than listen to it.

Now, I suppose I have to be biased here, but my son Ross's band, Casino are great! Their songs on myspace are few and mainly cover Indie sounds but with a great British feel to them. Other tracks that haven't yet been recorded (due to studies, work and almost constant gigging) are nonetheless brilliant. My particular favourite is A Little Bit Longer, which takes on a sleazy sound with minimal "shoop shoop's" and cheeky pauses in - one feels inclined to go shag a priest after hearing it. It has wonderful illicit words and tones. Sodom and Gomorrah is pure rock but not to heavy, with lines like "the sound of the circus, is causing confusion" is mind-boggling but it fits. And the quirky, All In The Making, takes me back to my early 80's youth. So they're no one-trick pony's! However, their newest song, Creeper, (about a one night stand gone wrong) is the one that gets me the most excited (no shagging thoughts involved here!). It's just phenomenal. Right now I don't think it fits into any category just surpasses typical local band sounds.

I spent a huge amount of time with my son's last band, The Valentines , his high school/first year college band and - with the help of my exceptional neighbours, Liz and Tam who happily endured all their practice sessions and went to gigs - they won their regional Battle Of The Bands contest, beating 138 other local bands! And one of the lead singers was a duff-noter! Their tracks even made it into our county's, Stirling Rocks CD, which is compiled by the council for the best music locally around! They also were the only band to have TWO tracks on the song list. The feeling of going into a renowned record store (HMV) and lift a CD with your son's band in it - (and announce it quite loudly if you're with a friend!) - it's quite exhilarating.

This week end my younger son, Adam, will be recording his first demo with his band (he's the drummer, too!) No Need For Idols and they'll be entering the same competition The Valentines, did. I'm out for a second win here, too!

So, I'm glad I inflicted music on my sons. Glad that I built up the confidence I lacked. Happy that it was obviously in their blood. And even happier that now, the lyrics and music flow independently from them. What I didn't expect was that I would be constantly attending their gigs. And little do they know that I've got tee-shirts made with their bands' name on the front and "Mumma of the Drumma" on the back so their fans know who the old fogey elbowing the fuck out of teenagers faces to get to the front, is!

Casino's latest video The High is just to the right on the side profile. Remember to double click for the bigger pic!

Sunday, 13 September 2009

Sunday Snippet (1)

It does my bloody head in, it does. Sunday cooking. Well, joining in, I suppose. My recipes come straight from the Ria Parkinson cook book of disasters. I was asked by the cheaper half to peel and chop some onions, to which I opposed as it always makes my eyes run:

"Not if you peel and slice them underwater." was his reply!

Useless git. I can only hold my breath for around a minute and I'll be buggered if I'm popping up for air for four onions' worth! Tut!

Tuesday, 1 September 2009

Mediums? Rare or Well Cooked?

One thing I'm beginning to loathe about insomnia is that the television through the night is shit. No programme really keeps me all that interested after 2am. That's when the last South Park is aired and other, more 'topical' ones seem to take over, I recently discovered. It's the brigade of the Mediums! Yes, there must be at least 3 or 4 of these 'spiritually gifted' chosen ones to view over a four hour period. Now, I did watch these programmes keenly over the said period as for some reason I felt more awake than the usual sluggish hell of no sleep. Perhaps there was something preeminent in this bloke I was watching! Until I reminded myself that I'd been on the kids' Lucozade sports drinks since midnight (coz normally I can't be arsed with kettles and so forth during the night). Okay, that was me getting back to my (usually) secular old self. But I was impressed.

What I did take in was all the similarities. How the laws of probability were used in fine scrutiny. I mean, they'd pick out an oldish woman, better for them if they were shaking, or had the look of sheer desperation in their eyes. When asking if they had a 'mother' who'd passed there was a 50/50 chance that yes, a parent had died, and that it was a female. If not, he'd go on to mum-in-laws, aunties, ect. Then the initials would come or if very old spirits were channeling in, the older type Betty, Jean, Dorothy, Elizabeth names would spill out and chances are there was a name like that in the family. Then would come the region in his body where he felt they had 'died' from. Usually, cancer or heart problems if he circled about the chest area. Sometimes, spot on. Sometimes, mind you, he'd venture further down the body and get it right. But these blokes are masters in their art. So is it a con or not?

I probably gave it more "och, anybody could have guessed that" than "well, that is a bit spooky". One thing that did give me a bit of respect for them was, that, what ever the price of pish or professional medium, it did give people a lot of comfort. So happy their 'families' came through. And when said their sceptical views were altered after a show and it gave them a different outlook to the afterlife, fair enough. For me, as long as there is one rational, possible, explanation (be it research or even looking up names after tickets are booked - (coz there is something called the electoral role, for any area you know!) then I'll be opting for the scrap of other evidence option - no matter how silly it may seem. Only because I'm scared to admit to myself it might be true. So maybe, it's really me conning myself!

One female medium I'd like to mentioned is one called Lisa Williams. Now she is British but works in America on her show. She does have one-to-one sessions that in hindsight looked pretty damn convincing. Another trait of hers is to stop people on busy streets to give them a impromptu session. She tells them she sees a spirit walking by them but gives the usual guessing games. So a woman, in her fifties I'd say, went away crying with happiness. Apparently, her mother was with her in signal form by sending 'extra' dragonflies to the garden that year.

"Oh yes, oh yes", the woman replied, "I have noticed a lot of dragonflies this summer!"

Bollocks! Did she take a head count of the ones the year before...? But then again, there goes that warm feeling of comfort.

Now, my father died five years ago but I'd liked to have answered her dragonflies theory as such;

"Yes, I have noticed loads this year! Annoying little bastards - give me the creeps! God, I must have used a whole bottle of insecticide to rid the things!"

Because, if, just, if, my old dad was looking down on me he'd be up there pissing himself laughing at it. But I honestly believe that if I did see some the following year, I'd be looking for my little keep net to capture them for study to see if any of them had the smell of strong whiskey on their teensy little breaths.