Search This Blog

Sunday, 29 May 2016

My Dad’s Guest Rant

The following rant, for want of a better word, is from my Dad. I am amazed at how our writing styles are so similar. I think this may be where I get my sarcastic, stroppy side. J


I know I'm too old to really understand texting: the buttons are too small, my
eyesight is not great, and I insist on all the spelling, spacing and punctuation
being correct, so I often acknowledge incoming texts with just “OK”.
So can anyone tell me why predictive text replaces my “OK” with “MONKL”?
It’s not an English word; I have never texted it before; “OK” doesn't even start
with an M; so why would it predict that I wanted a word that doesn't even exist?

I know it’s all done by computer algorithm, but someone must have been paid to
programme it and thought MONKL was a good idea. That’s madness.
If anyone is passing my house, walk fast, because a phone could fly through the
window any minute now.   

Contributed by Paul Morehead.






Sunday, 22 May 2016

Summertime....... why she and I do not get on.



Well that’s blown it! Summer is arriving at a sprint and my diet has gone horribly wrong........ I have put on eight pounds. I am not entirely sure how that happened but it has and needs to be rectified immediately. Summer clothes are not forgiving. Floaty dresses don’t float if you are fat..... FACT! Showing your arms is not good when they have expanded and who wants to see someone carrying a few (quite a few) extra pounds and wearing something skimpy.

To be honest summer is not my favourite season for several reasons. Firstly I get hay fever and no one can look or feel good with a snotty nose and streaming red eyes. Secondly I burn after thirty seconds in the sun so have to immerse myself in factor 50. My legs will NEVER change colour......fact! Last time I got my legs out an anaemic snowman laughed at me. (Seriously).

The heat and I do not agree with each other no matter how much water I drink. I don’t really sweat I just get hotter and hotter and go red and overheat. Coupled with the runny nose, streaming eyes and white legs you are probably starting to paint a picture in your head now.

So summer is the time to put on your flip flops and enjoy life without boots, coats, hats and umbrellas. Personally I would get rid of all the above apart from the boots. I have osteoarthritis in one foot and they are the most comfortable thing I can wear. This is sad as I do, like many others, love to slip on a pair of flip flops on a summer day.


So I think we should re cap how I will look this summer.  I will be overweight, dragging my dodgy ankle, nose running, eyes streaming, a bright red face and smothered in factor 50. Well putting it that way I am quite a catch. J


Me on the beach at Chideock.....








Friday, 13 May 2016

Introducing Bob

Hello lovely people. I have to introduce you all to Bob. Now I know what you are thinking, Bob is a funny name for an obviously female mannequin, but I have my reasons. When I was first looking at mannequins I asked my son if he could get me one for birthday and Christmas. I said to him “I promise not to talk to it and call it Bob”....... and the rest, as they say, is history.







There were two reasons to get Bob, one being that I needed a model for clothes posts on here. Once I started looking at mannequins online I realised they were rather beautiful. The wire construction makes for an object which is ornamental without being fussy and cluttered. 




 Bob's first modelling assignment was to show of some of my favourite winter dresses.





 Bob's also an expert handbag model despite being rather armless. She is not too good at shoe modelling however, but we can forgive her that as my shoe collection is not great.



Before giving me Bob, my son gave me a smaller package. On opening it I found mini Bob. For a moment I thought my son had misunderstood what I wanted but he could not hide the fact that this was a joke Bob. Mini Bob is approximately 12 inches and Bob is 60 inches.



Since getting my two original Bob's I also found a skinny Bob in a charity shop while shopping with a friend.



 Mini and skinny Bob 


Bob will be a regular contributor to my blog as she continues her modelling career.

Bob and the Bobettes (as named by a friend) enjoying a "holiday" at the top of the stairs while I had visitors staying.


Wednesday, 4 May 2016

My letter to National Rail




The following is the letter which I have just emailed to the customer relations people at National Rail. It may come across as a tad sarcastic. Let’s see if I get a response. J

Dear British Rail, National Rail, British Snail or whatever you are now called.

I would like a logical explanation as to why we can’t buy a monthly or weekly rail ticket before midday if the dates don’t run consecutively? This means that if our ticket ends on a Friday we either wait until Sunday afternoon to buy another ticket or waste two days when we know we are not going to be travelling.

The staff at Woking station have explained that “the machines will not allow them to sell the tickets before midday”. I am a little surprised that this is a reason given as a human being made the decision to program the machine to do this. The ticket machines do not think for themselves!!! They are not a C3PO/ R2D2 hybrid; they are pre-programmed ticket machines.

I can buy a single ticket for next week, next month or a day in July so the “ticket machines” are well aware there is a future; they have not got goldfish in a bowl, short memory syndrome. Someone, somewhere made the decision to penalise weekly and monthly ticket holders, I am not sure why because we suffer enough travelling by train.

I would also like to draw your attention to the ridiculous decision to shorten the Guildford to Woking six pm train from ten carriages to five. (As confirmed by a member of your train crew) This is a very busy train and I object to playing “sardines” with a bunch of smelly, grumpy strangers. This is not my idea of a fun way to end my working day.

Not only is every seat taken but there are passengers in the aisles and stuffed into the areas between the seating sections like a dangerous game of “how many idiots can you get in a mini” played forcibly by your passengers.

I would be very interested in getting a response to my questions.

Regards

Sara Williams