Blog - The Brit on the Block
Let there be DUST
Sometimes, I really don’t know how my Gump does it. He works more than anyone I have ever known. In the past ninety-six hours, he has worked sixty of them. I have kept the same hours as him, and even gone and hung out with him at his office (with my stash of reading material and chocolate) and I’m exhausted just spending all that time relaxing. He must be absolutely cream-crackered – which means knackered – which means so tired you will probably die. So there it is, a small and rare tribute to the hard-working Gumpster, and the introduction of a British word to my non-Brit readers.
Up Periscope!
Current news:
I have become quite pathetic when it comes to dieting and losing weight. With me, one apparently doth not seem to beget t’other….
I HATE getting old!
I hate getting older. And it’s not just because of the wrinkles on my face either. I’ve actually become quite fond of the two creases either side of my mouth that run down towards my chin. The ‘laughter’ lines around my eyes and the rumpled skin on my forehead are okay as well. At least they give my face strong character and hint at the hard, grueling, not-to-mention ‘full’ life I have led thus far.
WTF is going on in the world?
This picture of Gump’s tomatoes is not relevant to the blog post at all – I just thought you might like the picture…..he has at least 25 plants this year…..I HATE tomatoes…I wish he could grow chocolate instead.
It’s just bloody hot!
One of the lovely gifts that going through menopause has brought to my life is the new ability to sweat. Not glisten, not perspire, just plain old good honest sweat. The kind that makes you feel as though you could cook a fried egg on your more than adequate belly and heat up a pizza under your left boob. I can remember playing an entire racquetball game years ago and feeling a bit ‘damp’ around the collar, I used to actually COMPLAIN that I wished I could sweat….
Nana’s in the Hood
I have recently returned from the wilds of Colorado, where I have been baby-sitting grandchildren, cooking fish-sticks and chicken nuggets.
Barbara Dorothy Bayton
Today is a poignant day in my life. It marks the second year of the day my mother died. It’s hard to be funny today, something almost disrespectful in trying to be amusing.
I know many of you have lost your mothers, or your fathers, or both. Some of you may have even lost them when you were young. I know I am fortunate in that I had my mother until I was 54 years old.
Rocky Mountain High
Finally! I have been so behind with the blog the past couple of weeks – I am very sorry! I have no valid excuses, other than I’ve been somewhat preoccupied. As you might have deduced from the photo, oh, and the title…. I’ve been out of the state…..the state of being thin, fit, and rich, and also out of the state of Oklahoma.
To Neil – Wherever you may be…….
A long time ago (1976), in a distant land far away (England) there was a young girl of fifteen. She met a handsome prince who showered her with love, cigarettes and chocolate, took her to discos and told her that she was very pretty and that he loved her – six weeks later she was pregnant. This girl was so scared….how could she tell her parents? What would happen at school? What on earth was she to do?
Fifty-Six going on Ninety-Six
I am senile. I have been fighting it for some time now, but the awful realization keeps rearing its ugly head as each day I seem to commit another blunder. Apart from the usual mistakes I make, here are some of the things I constantly forget: