Yellow Cabs and Yankee Lads

 My daughter and son-in-law have recently returned from New York.  In what little time (5 days) they had they managed to fit in as many sights as sleep deprivation allowed them. As much as joy and excitement kept them ticking over, the new fountain in memory of the Twin Tower victims rendered them speechless. The snaps simply left me stunned.  I pray one day to conquer my fear of flying.

Sunday Snippet (34)

 Cheer yourself up at your next funeral by hiding  £10 / $20 in your black suit today!!

I'll Just Have To Lump It Then!!

Recently I discovered a hard lump on my right boob near the top towards my armpit.  It's about the size of a pea (processed not garden) and a right tender little thing. By that I don't mean it sings lullabies to me, but menourv   maneovr  manoorver  turning and twisting, even slightly can be right effing nippy!  Then again, I keep poking and prodding at it which does me no favours.  Even on getting it seen to at the doctor's, I didn't need to tell him where 'mumpy'  lives (yes, I do have names for various body parts) he simply followed the bruised bit!

Now, as such I'm not expecting it to be anything serious, but he is taking no chances with me........(coz trust me my medical files are as thick as a brick).  I know I don't look it *ahem* but in a couple of years I'll be 50 and would have been sent for my routine mammogram anyway.  I shall be getting a sample drawn and tested and all that kind of thing as well.  There is a chance it may be cancer.

Funny thing is, a year ago my twin sister had an op to remove a larger lump, kind of shallot shaped. It was benign, thank God.  For the family record, I know my grandmother had breast cancer, and my mother died of stomach cancer, but I know her chain smoking had a lot to do with that but the cancer seemed  to attack her everywhere bar her boobs!........And that's where my ridiculous theory comes in.

My twin sis is a smoker (since high school) likes a drink, bakes herself in the summer and has periods easy-flow periods and her lump was benign - well, it was more of a cyst, really.  If I let myself believe, and live up to the way things often turn for me, what are the chances of me, the non-smoker, non drinker, hysterectomy-scarred, ex-breast feeding summer recluse getting it a little bit tougher...?  I know it's daft, but with vast, past experience, this typifies how things usually go for me. The chalk and the cheese. 

I know it's gonna be okay. Really I do.  But I can't help these little thoughts from butting in and hitting me with it's less than 5% chance of my right tit's visitor needing an eviction notice from higher beings!

Scently Does It

                                                               
 She stood shivering, her thin little legs peeking out from under the towel as the rush of water was filling up the bath.  Steam clouded the room and much to her dismay the squirt of soap from a bottle was heard loudly.  Bubbles usually stung her eyes but they never took heed of any head shaking or blinking until it was too late.


Bastards!  They stood there laughing at her as hair stuck firmly to her head, messed up and tacky,  her ears jutting out pixie-like. Whimpering with each jug soaking did her no good, and soon she kept quiet and rigid, accepting each hit of water, sometimes too hot or too cold, each burning soap sting. Pure torture. They were really giving her the water-wheel treatment tonight.  Although properly toilet trained, she just stood there and peed, apologetic eyes flitting from one face to the other.  Had she been doing this on the carpet, she could have been facing being dragged along while receiving a loud, verbal roasting.


Later on, once dried and fragrantly dusted, she was amazed that she wasn't sent straight to bed.  Instead she was given a meal, nothing special, but even that was followed by some crunchy biscuits and milk.  Maybe they'd forgiven her? For her repetitive sin. Come to accept that in life there are some things nature just can't control.  She couldn't stop them from forcing her into bath water and coming out smelling of bubblegum. They couldn't stop her from seeking out the biggest nipped off shit in the park and rolling in it.

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Remember (Mags) Remember, The Whole Of Movember.........

I'm being a bad girl this week and cheating on you Magpie's! I'm sadly not able to post a poem as I've a lot of music, manic mayhem and such like going on. Some of my time is taken up with the charity mentioned below. Dying beards and other delights........I will get round to reading your 'pie's in between the mania. Back to normal for Magpie 91 - here's hoping!  THANK YOU....XXXXX

 It's Movember. The month formerly known as November, now dedicated to growing moustaches and raising awareness and funds for men's health - specifically prostate and testicular cancer.

 Pretty Boy and NorseGod are donating their top lip (and more) to the cause for the next 20-odd days in an effort to help change the face of men's health. Their Mo's will spark conversations and generate laughs in raising vital dosh!  In reverse, hairy blokes are shaving themselves clean in operation NoMovember to raise the same dosh and giggles. PrettyBoy's university is a big supporter of the Australian-originated charity and have loads of scrawny follicle-ridden imports joining in. (So could some of the girls apparently.....!)

It's pretty important to me as my son-in-law James (see sidebar for pic!) had testicular cancer at only 26, resulting in removal of one.  He's fine, healthy and hoping to raise a family soon (with the help of IVF) but the thought that life could have lost such a mad, caring, and funny, funny bloke still chokes me up! All I ask is a cheer for the lads.  Those who haven't heard of the charity can check it out here HERE

Anyhow - here's how the face sprouting is doing so far.............

 

Looks like Ross (in sepia - he's a rock star to be, you know!) is not quite at the fuzzyfelt stage of his (much) younger (and hairier) brother, Adam. Ah, well. It really IS made from girders, then.

WELL DONE BOYS.....AND ROCKING WITH IT ALL THE WAY........!!

Get To 'F' (24)

Just a simple little pic as I'm feline a bit of a bad girl.  I stuffed 2 Haagan Daz Praline and Cream ice cream tubs in our shopping trolley when The Cheaper Half wasn't looking today!  Criminal ( at that price! ) but I'll feel like the cat who got the cream once they've all pissed off to bed tonight!

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Get To ''Halloween''

                              A mask tells us more than a face - Oscar Wilde


 This F-ing post's timing is to cover Halloween also..... While all my friends are making pacts with the Devil, my notions hang  more on the fancy dress side of Halloween - masked balls in particular. 

This time to add to the mystique and ambiance, is a cover song (from a movie I've watched a million times) by a delightful young man called Patrick Carrico. I'm sure the masquerade in you will recognise the song and film easily. If not, it's worth a listen anyhow!

 
     

Smooth Critters

Gee - you men have us over a barrel at times. You ask us to iron a shirt for you and then when we tell you to sod off and do it yourself, you put the garment on knowing we'd be mortified to let you walk outside like that......grrrrrrrr..........!

Sunday Snippet (35)

I don't know what all the fuss about these arranged marriages is. Me and my husband spent 6 months arranging ours  - and it went fine!

Seany

                                                      
The letter arrived on the Tuesday. A blue-tinged envelope held the words that over the years I dreaded most. 'Dear Dad..........'

Kids we were, your mother and I. Babies making babies, and look where it got us. The day the mid-wife swept you away through the swing doors, you bawling in her arms, was sickening. One kiss on that tender, peachy face and you were gone. 'Best all round' the cast of adults assured us. I can remember that night my mother sobbed her heart out, repeating over and over that she was sorry. We split up soon after, your mother and I, well, removed by distance. Wasn't I just lucky to have landed that job with Uncle Alex?


You were that shadow in the back of my mind. The one I could skip over, ignore even, but it didn't go away, just shifted itself into many other shapes, but always formed its original heart outline when not in use. 

I should have been your hero, your protector, your driving force, your hormone advisor even, and sharing laughs and plans that only we need fill. Then again, I should be down on my knees kissing your adoptive father's arse. He's the true hero. There for you all your life. Not even did he stand in the way of you finding me and gives his blessing for us to cohere if we decide to!


I know you know that your mother passed away and you are survived by a sister on her side.  You also have two little sisters via me! If ever a man needs a son, it's now!  Pure blood races through our veins.  I can't believe how maturely you're taking this. I deserve the anguish, guilt, shame, melancholy and all its awful trimmings for my absence.  But you trust a mere hug will bury them.


Seany, we'll try one day at a time, lad. If this doesn't work out, then the heart-shaped shadow will remain perfectly fixed as so.


Dad
XxX
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Mother F****r ! She's 66 !?

I try not to inflict my music passions on others too much  *ahem*  but I've just come across this video for Blondie's last single 'Mother'. No other band has influenced my life as much, or as long, as these old veterans. Form 30 years I've loved them. The mother of all female pop icons still rocks it at 66 (looking 20 years younger) and still ingests the fun, fear and funky into what makes a great song, captured in video, more memorable. Go Debs.....



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Sunday Snippet (34)

Nothing works better for me than a Sunday morning runny, half-cooked fried egg on a roll - especially if you were out the night before - and it led me to wonder how Morrisons train hens to lay these 'Taste the Difference' eggs.  It's the hens from the 'Economy' range eggs that I'm slightly puzzling over.......hmm?

Sweet Trouble With The Bubble.......

Out they come in tubes of colours, from the pockets of the mothers
 - seeking solice in the afternoon
Bubbles for fauteur de troubles, well fed up with muck and puddles -
willing now to quietly attune

All it takes you understand, is puffy cheeks and wand in hand,
dipped so deeply down into the lotion
A steady blow until the air, takes it into it's own care,
have you ever see such globular devotion...??

As they delicate the sky, focus on one with keen eye,
and watch the rainbow ripples circle round
Coloured oils swirl into rivers, that gives one delightful shivers,
as it settles on a leaf or on the ground.

Soak the plastic till it's thicker, blowing harder and much quicker,
 -  watch a hundred baby bubbles fight for space
Or run into them arms out wide, oozing soapy-suddy pride,
and feel the magic of the POP! against your face.

Now skillfulness is what is needed,  if previously you succeeded,
to blow the biggest bubble that departed
You must recapture it again, the rule is simple and it's plain -
 back on the very wand from where it rightly started!

No matter what a child desires,  essential things that life requires,
the humble bubble is the captor of our peace.
That every single generation, will always find a true elation,
from that gulp of air, their lips then first release.

It's 2.45am. I've Insomnia. And I Still Haven't Had A..........

Four hours ago, I intended on going to the loo to piddle.........and I still haven't been. Another victory for all those pelvic floor exercises I maintained during my pregnancies!  Who am I kidding......I'm sat here and the thought of that cold porcelain ain't doing me no favours. Potty, anyone....?

Get To 'F' (21)

Getting to 'F' this week was fun. Thank you NorseGod for choosing the pic.  I kinda know the feeling as I get my knickers in a twist often enough, but I'd need to be mega-stressed for this effect:

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Sunday Snippet (33)

I've just returned from a visit to an elderly relative, who turned 95 recently.  As the visitors came and went, she was reminding absolutely everyone that she was a great, great, great grandmother.  I, for one, would have expected a little more modesty from a woman of her generation........

Get To 'F' This Way Too.......! (20)

This week's picture really says it for itself.  Just imagine how many would sell if such a hybrid was produced.  Mind you, they'd have to succeed in developing a variety to please the hot-peppered gals, too! Just a little bit more, perhaps....I enjoy a good mouthful.....!
  
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                  have a quick visit for similar pics at my other blog HERE

And (one up) For The Happy Cow That Lives Down The Lane

(I grew up with classic Disney in my heart, but for my own kids' upbringing, these old characters were overshadowed by newer Disney ones.   However, they'd probably still have enjoyed this poem accompanying the picture........*ahem*)

Donald was the champion of grumpy, bumpy frowns
Hardly smiled at anything, no time for laughs or clowns
Asked some friends to join him on a shooting trip, one day
But no-one took him seriously, much to his dismay

'Look', he said, 'we're all just figments of old Walt's imagination,
but let's not get ideas that are way above your station!
Some of you are nobodies, just used for background fodder,
I think you'll find (till Mickey shows) I deserve the best of lauder!'

But the gang just laughed and wouldn't pose, kept sticking out their tongues
One by one their scrawny necks he could have gladly wrung.
Even in the distance, Clarabelle found it amusing, but
She knew her forest friends were in real danger of a bruising

So she spun a magic rainbow, chucked in colour, made it sparkle
Lured the mad drake forward, (notions heading patriarchal!)
Said, 'There's treasure at the rainbow's end, to suit Sir Donald Duck!"
But there wasn't, just a grand excuse for him to get to........