Bob’s Diary: Four more sleeps till Turkey Day.

“I am afraid to look Bob. How did we end up in this mess?”

how did we end up in this mess

“Ellie, Lets rewind back to earlier when I was sitting minding my own business.”

bob5

bob 3

And stuff  kept dropping on me as Maria was rushing in and out getting the tree and other bits. Then you, Ellie made the mistake of sitting down… and Maria decided it was an opportunity..

joined by ellie

bob in  tinselTo make us look like a pair of right Irish idiot dogs. I mean do we look happy? Roll on Turkey day.”

Bob’s Diary:Proof – I do move

To all those who think I sit around all day and pose…

running 2

Here is the proof

 

bob running

 

though Maria took her time taking the pictures and

I will catch her

it was very cold. I kept Ellie moving.

ellie cold with ball

 

 

Cold morning 1

Then I had a rest.

The grass was nicely frozen and cold. Delicious.

 

Maria’s stuff: A forgotten sketch

Tired after a late night / early morning I resorted to cleaning out a file and found this, a sketch of my husband and daughter. They were always close from the get go. If he was fixing a car or truck she was by his side handing over the necessary spanner, parts etc.

And some twenty years later though it has changed a little, as life dictates, they are still great buddies.sara and pat

 

Maria’s Stuff: Weddings: Ireland: Today and Yesterday

3

A thought about Weddings.

 

I have two weddings to attend in the next six months. 

This got me thinking about the change in attitude to the event since I was married thirty years ago.

Back then, the wedding was a means to an end. By that I mean most of us didn’t live together until after we were married. 

Today the trend as we know is different. The thing is the planning often takes years. This means a lot more stress over a longer period of time, or am I wrong in saying that?

The more time you have to think and plan the longer the brides list of must do’s and must haves gets. So it mushrooms into a Super Event. This is happening right now. Brides have to have, (I am told) bridal dance to create, learn and plan, the Hen night (a weekend or a week long affair), The Stag night (similar to the Hen night ), the day after the wedding party,  the speeches (often includes a video or photography link) and so on it grows.

One bride to be confessed she is afraid she will be on a downer after the event. My mouth dropped open and was nudged shut by my hubby. Words, for once, were not processed in my brain to reply to her.

For me the wedding is the start of the event: your life together.

I  will end on this note we planned our wedding in six weeks. 

It is true. Please don’t keel over.

We had church, flowers, hotel, and party with live band and oodles of photos. The six weeks came about when we became aware that to get our house loan we had to have a marriage certificate. We needed to give them a wedding date. We asked how long it would take to get the paperwork for the house completed we were told six weeks hence the six week date.  It was a small family wedding with a party afterwards and I loved every minute of it as did my husband and those who attended (or so they say).

 I will add weddings like life, can be as complicated or simple as we make them. But above all they should be enjoyable.

 

Maria’s Stuff: Memories of our first garden.

The vegetable Garden

The vegetable Garden

niall and sara under beech

sara flowersOur first home was as I remember – picture perfect. The garden the most lived in room.

The nearest neighbor a long walk up a leafy rickety lane-way.

The garden, a field then, stretched on forever. It wasn’t perfect, but it sat on a height overlooking the farms stretched out below and beyond it. We gained aches and pains as we eliminated the abandoned glass bottles, old tin cans and iron bed frames, tainted and rusty to touch. Everything safely sent to a recyclable life via a tractor and trailer.

A lawn and driveway arrived. Tiny hands were tickled by flitting butterflies as they played in this large space sprinkled with roses and hebes of all varieties.  Tree climbers were carefully minded by the one hundred year old solid beech tree. From its lofty height it loved to sprinkle the lawn with helicopters. Pulled by the wind they twisted and turned toward the green velvet carpet where they added their golden brown hue to its richness. All around me I can see nature at its best, soft rolling hillsides displaying every shade of green.

No heavy traffic or exhaust fumes filled the air, here, birdsong was the mainstay of my day. Passing of time was told by every passing vehicle: the milkman, neighbors ferrying children to and from school, husbands returning from work.

The seasons saw some changes which colored the air, spreading manure, making hay, or cows being herded home.
Home – I can almost taste it! Though I have changed house, the memories of this home will never be forgotten. It was a heartfelt first home.

 

A Muddled Tale

An interlude in which Always-Right-Knight has his say.

 

I love the witch. I cannot explain it.  For a witch she is sassy, sexy and all woman.

Despite my golden-haired, blue-eyed appearance, I do lack confidence with women in particular diva witches. And this poses a problem in my pursuit of the Scrumptious witch.

I have spent days writing the perfect Sonnet. Then I climbed to the top of Hill top peak to pick the bluest flower I could find. Finally I snagged some purple label freshly brewed beer, the one that sparkles and crackles.

Armed with my gifts I trudged about the town searching for her. I was tired, not thinking of anything but her when I happened upon her.  I am human and the sight of a near naked witch with a body worth dying for was too much for me. I jumped in and then zap I found myself in a dark place of dreams and nightmares.

When I awoke it was to discover the world had moved on, my diva was no more and I was in an alien place. Giant man-made dragons and machines roared across the sky and land. The place stank like no other. The houses were like palaces. Towers of glass and teeming hordes of people fill this place.

Strange to say, I love it. Better still they love me.

 

A Muddled Tale Continues….

A Muddled Tale

Part 3: It is a weird world – Three  Knights in a new world..

 

When the awkward problem of no clothing was solved, they came to a heart stopping decision. It was made in their usual manner by holding a group discussion. This meant a very meandering path was taken before the point was clarified. The conversation went something like this:

“These clothes are very soft,” Grouchy muttered as he ran his hand gently up and down the shirt fabric.

“Not very manly nor fit for a Knight. They don’t clank or need polishing.” Sleazy whispered. “But I agree they are warm and don’t make my skin itch.”

“Yes. But they are not normal but neither is this world. That hut looked like nothing we know.” Lazy beckoned and they moved closer. When they were in a tight huddle he whispered, “we are under a spell. Be very careful of what you say and who you say it to.”

“I agree, we are in a world of magic and mystery. We are not afraid. We are knights – we have to stick together.” Grouchy gave a nod and stood very tall and proud.

The decision was made. Even though they were strangers in a strange world they would act knightly and stay together.

Two minutes later they split up to search for food or a means of transport. They would meet at the foot of the mountain close to them at dawn next morning.

It is not necessary to go into the tedious frightening details of how badly they each fared. Enough to say when they returned to their meeting point, none of them carried any food or had a horse or cart with them.

Grouchy was shaking. Sleazy rendered speechless. Lazy was jabbering like an idiot.

They walked to a small stream. After taking a drink Grouchy declared it to be tainted. Then they ate berries which they found growing in a nearby hedge. Sleazy thought they were sour and too bitter.

Lazy said, “we are neither Goldilocks nor the three bears. I think they are fine.” He ate his fill which left the hedge pretty empty.

Night was descending on the mountain in an abrupt manner. By the time Grouchy lit a fire  it was dark and cold. Sleazy dumped a bundle of sticks on the ground and crouched low. He said, “there is something peculiar happening. Lazy was spinning on his head. One minute he was dancing on the spot the next he was spinning on his head.”

Grouchy frowned, “I have had a peculiar feeling all day, like I should be providing a better place for us to stay. I have this itch to make the ground more comfortable and the fire bigger to warm us all.” He jumped to his feet. With a screech of horror he said, “I’m turning into a girl.”

Sleazy nodded. “It is as I thought . We are bewitched. I know this because I have been counting non-stop all day long. We need to hide.”

Grouchy considered his words carefully. “To be in disguise and untraceable we should take new names.”

Sleazy allowed this thought time to roam and wander through his head.

Lazy danced into view. He performed a neat pirouette and said, “I have this desire to dance. I am crazy or ill.”

“No,” Grouchy said, “you are under a spell.”

Lazy searched the landscape around them. Briars and gorse were mingled with brambles and small trees. “Who put us under it? And where are they?”

Sleazy explained their theory on the event. “We should change names. I would like to be called Liam.” Lazy declared.

“I am George, ” Grouchy said.

They both turned to Sleazy. He wrinkled his nose and thought for a long time. “I am Sam.” With a deep furrow spreading across his forehead he admitted, “though it will seem strange to be called that, why don’t we stick to our initials?”

So they became G, S, L.

“We need to get moving as far away from here as possible.” G said.

“In the morning, would be fine with me.” S said to L only to find L had twirled out of sight.

 

 

Bob’s Diary: I know stuff.

Early morning in the wood I got out and waited,

ipp

while my fluffy friend got out and ran like the wind.

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We had a nice walk

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then I relaxed

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She went off, but I wasn’t worried,

ipp

ipp

because she is like a boomerang. She always comes back.

 

 

Bob’s Diary: Why me?

ipp

The trouble with being such a sociable charismatic dog is simple, Maria keeps putting me in stories. Here is a short one. ( I’ve met Molly. She is cute and she feeds me jelly babies.)

Children’s Story: 500 words.

 

Chasing the snow dragon.

 

Snowflakes twirled and danced about Molly. ” I love snow,” she said.

“Woof” Bob said jumping around her.

Molly whispered, “Quiet Bob. A  Snow Dragon might hear us and run away.”

The dog nudged her hand with his nose. He tickled Molly, making her giggle.

They began their search in the garden.

No Snow Dragon.

They walked through the gate, looking right and left. Molly walked past Gran’s kitchen door. They looked in the garden shed, even behind the coal bags but didn’t find a Snow Dragon. They did meet many birds and Gran’s fat cat.

They walked to the front garden. They met the postman. “Hi Molly. Where are you going?” he asked.

“We are going to catch a Snow Dragon.” She whispered.

“Well – don’t let him catch you.” He said.

“No. We won’t.” Molly told him.

Bob looked behind every tree.  Molly looked at the bare branches.

No Snow Dragon.

“Not even a squirrel, Bob.” She said.

Molly looked behind them. The snow was falling onto the ground covering her footprints. She couldn’t see her house. “Let’s go home,” She said.

Molly made a snow ball. She threw it. “Go get it Bob,” She said.

He sat and watched it land.  Molly sighed. Bob never chased tennis balls.

“Lets make a snowman instead.” She began by making a small ball and then dropped it on the ground. As she rolled it along the ground the snowball changed from being a round ball into a wobbly, wonky shape. It was big and getting bigger.

Bob helped by staying out of Molly’s way. She pushed her snowman into the garden saying, “I’ll finish you after tea.”

It was warm inside. Molly felt tired. She forgot about her snowball but told dad about her search for a Snow Dragon.

“I think there are no Snow Dragons,” she said. Molly felt sad.

“Maybe they are shy, creatures. Perhaps you should send an email to one and see what happens.”

“What would I say?” She liked this idea.

“That you believe in them but you would love to know what they look like. Wait then and see what happens. Granddad always said, they were magical creatures.”

Molly wiggled her nose as she thought about this. “Let’s do it, can you help please?”

The email was sent and Molly went to bed.

Next morning she got up and peeped out the window.

Her heart jumped for there in the garden was a large dragon. He was white and very still. Molly raced outside to see him. “Its a Snow Dragon.” She said to her dad who came to look at it.

“But Dad, how did he get here?”

“Molly you did say you would love to know what they look like, didn’t you?”

Molly nodded her head. “I did. Now I know they are amazing.And he chased my snowman away. ”

Dad took a picture of the snow dragon.

It hangs on Molly’s bedroom wall in case she forgets what they look like.