Tag: A quirky look at ordinary life

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Wot a lot I got

A little while ago we had some friends around.

As I’m the worst hostess ever, and have managed to get comfortably into middle age without ever actually cooking a meal, any fare served is either a take away or a smorgasbord of snacks.

In my defence, I make a great snack platter. And a decent sandwich.

As we generally have well bred friends…. Except for that one, now that I think about it…. They bought a little gift.

(It’s possible our friends bring something to sustain them in case there is nothing on offer).

But! These friends bought a bag of popcorn and a big box of smarties. What a delight of a gift.

It gets better…

Because… they said. ‘Put them together in a bowl and then every now and again there’s a smartie in the mix as you snack’.

How did I not know this? It’s as good as frozen strawberries in your wine instead of ice.

Life is a treasure for sure. It’s become a favourite.

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Keep your kit on for pity’s sake

I’ve lost 10kg.

I know! Marvelous hey?

But, no applause required, because I purchased myself some will power.

What a cheater.

Sadly, at my age and years of a determined sedentary lifestyle, losing weight does not automatically translate into a firm, twenty year old bod.

So, that’s this year’s resolution. Again.

Anyhoo, I’m delighted with myself and DNC.

We had visitors, whom we haven’t seen for a while.

So, we spent some time at the pool. Sun, wine, water, good friends. A delight.

You know, in swimming costumes.

At one point, I hauled myself out of the pool. I DNC as a reminder.

My VERY good friend observed me and piped up…

“You looked amazing yesterday, you really have done well”

“Do you mean yesterday, when I had clothes on?” I clarified.

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Fed up to my back teeth

I have entered that phase of my life, sadly, where a whole lot of work on my teeth is happening.

The Springboks endure their mouth guards for however long a rugby game lasts… Mine are a permanent fixture.

On the positive, I’m eating less, because it’s actually just a pain to eat. At the end of this ordeal, I expect to be a perfect set of gnashers, in a skull.

I have become quite creative about keeping everything now housed in my mouth clean, and have ventured into the world of, not just steradent, but dental tablets. Useful when you have to rinse and brush 15 times a day.

When my online order of dental tablets arrived, (I am not one to darken the door of an actual shop), they arrived with a bag of ‘mouth tapes’.

What have we here I pondered.

Well, for the ignorant, as I was, a mouth tape is something you wear over your mouth at night to ensure that you breath through your nose while you sleep.

All kinds of wondrous benefits to this apparently… Stops snoring, helps you avoid ‘dry mouth’.

So I slapped one over my mouth and went to bed.

Unfortunately, before explaining to my lovely man what was going on.

What’s this new kink he probably thought, and will it hurt?

I had generously decided to try it myself first rather than experimenting on him.

After explaining to him the concept… I watched his face.

I am quite expert at reading his mind.

‘Wonder if I could get her to wear one during the day’, I could see him thinking.

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I’m just messing with you

It is advised, that once a month or so, you clean your dishwasher or washing machine or whatever appliance you can thank for doing the shit stuff and saving you doing it by hand.

I am the early morning tea maker in our household. This involves making the tea/coffee, feeding the near to death starving cats who have barely made it through the night, making my lovely man’s much loved ‘breakfast bowl’ and also putting on a load of washing so that it can finish while we languish in bed for a bit.

Recently, I threw the required detergent that cleans said washing machine into the drum, set it to a programme over 60 degrees C and allowed it to clean itself. This, of course, you do when the machine is empty. Those marketing twits promise you it’s necessary to keep the machine clean.

Our washing machine plays a delightful little jingle when it’s done.

My lovely man, when he is within hearing range of the cheerful little jingle, is programmed to go and empty the machine and put the clothes in the dryer. Bless him.

I am, by now, in my epsom salts bath and I hear the jingle and then hear him heading to the machine to do the necessary. Like Pavlov’s pup. Isn’t he the best?

I wait and listen.

I hear him muttering, imagine him sticking his head into the empty drum, hear him slamming the door and then his determined steps to come and establish just what the hell is going on.

‘Darling, he says, you haven’t actually put any clothes……’

I was very tempted, of course, to say… ‘you must be mistaken, go and look again’

Love him… one day he’s going to murder me in my sleep.

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It’s OK to be juvenile

I am in insurance. I know, I know, not very exciting, but I am grateful for all that it gives me.

I have the most wonderful clients. Who, once again, I am grateful for.

A few of them are in construction, so every now and again I get an enquiry to put cover in place for a construction project.

This, sadly, as with a lot of insurance, requires the poor customer to complete a form.

People hate forms. Have you noticed? There is nothing that ruins a person’s day more than a message saying ‘will you complete and return this form for me please’.

I actually hate forms too. But only if I have to hand write it. Because I am, sadly, incapable of writing anything. I can barely sign my own name.

I advise the customer, when they need cover for their construction, that I have to apply for ‘Contractor’s All Risk’ cover for them, and will they please complete the attached form and return it.

Quite often, this results in them blocking me.

Unfortunately, the form is named “CAR/EAR proposal form”.

So, I wait…. and inevitably, the call comes.

I get that CAR may stand for Contractor’s All Risk, they ask, but what is the EAR, do I need EAR?

Well, I reply, the EAR is for Erection All Risk cover, do you need it? You tell me.

Silence… a giggle….

Even insurance can be fun.

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Brace yourself…

I’ve long admired nice teeth.

There’s not much I covet, but if you have nice teeth, I want them.

My parents tried to straighten my little dracula teeth when I was a child, but I didn’t fancy wearing a brace and after losing or breaking two sets, I didn’t get another chance.

As a young adult my mouth met with a pole while riding a horse, and a dentist replaced the now cracked and missing front four with crowns and I had relatively straight teeth for the first time.

Another dentist on a dating site made the mistake of pointing out all the faults in my profile picture smile and then asked me out. A hard pass. Maybe should have humoured him and got everything fixed up. Didn’t think of it at the time. Twit. Him and I.

Anyhoo.. I got into a discussion with a dentist recently re improvements and he suggested we look into things. We need a few X Rays and scans he advised.

This was an understatement. X rays, scans, 2D scans, 3D scans. On and on.

What was that last one I made the mistake of asking.

Oh, that was for your inner most thoughts and the state of your soul.

Fair enough. Seems legit. There is talk of a rapture.

If you think your teeth are in relatively good shape, don’t let anyone show you a 3D scan of your mouth.

Unfortunately, they advised with glee, apart from the obvious issues (wot?), your bite is crushing your teeth and it’s just a matter of time before everything cracks up.

Are you saying I have a nasty bite, I asked.

Well yes, and your bark is quite something too.

So now… There is a whole plan involving a series of specialists to fix me up proper.

And I have joined the ranks of adult brace wearers. Clear aligners they call them.

I’m looking for a support group.

I also have to have receding gum treatment, which involves, just to make you shudder in horror and throw up a bit in your mouth, taking tissue from my palate to build up my gums.

I did ask if there was an option to use someone else’s palate.

They have, I noticed, written quite a bit in my file already…

Things like :

NOT BRAVE (Sedate as much as possible)

I suspect this may also be to stop me asking questions and giving opinions.

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You go first

Darling, my lovely man asked, holding a handful of berries, what are these?

They look like gooseberries, I said, where did you find them?

There’s loads of them in the flower bed at the back, he replied.

Is there a gooseberry bush there, I asked. Apparently not.

They are nice, I said, popping one in my mouth, I’ll add them to your breakfast bowl (I’m always on the lookout for bright coloured fruit and veg my lovely man should be eating).

He looked at me horrified…. You don’t really know what they are… You could die.

Tastes like a gooseberry, I replied, but yes, we should wash them.

He watched me carefully the rest of the day… I knew he was concerned when he began with the questions..

How do I buy electricity?

What are the cake ladies details?

Can you please write down how exactly you make my breakfast bowl?

And then, as a bit of an afterthought…

How do I call the ambulance people?

So now… We have mysterious… Or as I like to call them.. Immaculate gooseberries.

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Marco….. Polo

About a year ago we splurged and upgraded my lovely man’s hearing aid.

The first set he had was not cheap, this one eye watering.

But… Necessary for his well being and my sanity really.

A few months later, we came back from walking the pups and he announced that one was missing.

The angels were watching over us, because we retraced our steps and found it lying in the road.

Darling… He announced earlier today… My left hearing aid is not in my ear.

Someone else take the wheel for a bit I thought to myself.

We started to look for it.

Do you think the app on my phone can track it he asked.

I looked at him… Astounded at the brilliance.

I actually had to sit down and take a wee sip of wine.

Where’s your phone?

I don’t know.

(Another sip).

Phone found…. The hearing aid is in the house!

And there we start…. Very Far…. Far.. Near.. The clever app guided us.

It’s in the kitchen!

15 minutes of searching the floor and counters. Realizing we have the worst tiles ever that could camouflage a lost rhinoceros if it fell on the floor.

Very near… It’s in the bin.

Of course.

Perhaps it’s time to give them a good clean my lovely man murmured.

Perhaps it’s time for wine.

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Enjoy your stay

We have bathroom scales. Not recommended, but we do. We hate ourselves like that.

My lovely man announced that his was no longer working. Of course I checked and yes, it appeared to have given up on life.

Do you want to just use mine I enquired.

No, he firmly responded, yours is not very friendly.

I knew it! Arsehole thing.

So, I bought him a new scale.

There’s two here, he advised.

Yes, I said, it was a good price if I bought two.

He looked at me quietly.

You’re going to put the arsehole scale in the guest room aren’t you?

There’s a fat mirror in there too I told him.

No wonder nobody visits us twice.

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Coincidence? I think not

A friend told me that if you are diabetic, you need to look after your heels, because once they crack, it’s a right chore to fix.

So, I was telling my dear old dad this.

Yes, he said, I take care of my heels with Zambuk.

Actually, he said, I always think of you when I’m applying the Zambuk because of the blog you wrote about the lid difficulty.

Your blog, he continued, must have quite a reach, because just after that, they improved the lid.

The world, or at least the Zambuk users, have a lot to thank you for, he ended.

Bless the faith of the dads. Bless the dads.

Also… Send gifts.