Christmas Day

Following on from my "doing something completely different each christmas day" officially started December 25th 2009, This year we stayed at home, we woke around 9.00am, not for us the 5.30am with rug rats eager to see what santa had brought, thankfully all that is in the past, the first shock of the day was my eldest Rug Rat bringing me a cup of tea, he usually doesnt stir until around midday, the day could only get better.....

I cooked a lovely breakfast for us all of Eggs and sliced up the large ham my hubs had cooked the previous evening, wonderful, we opened presents (yes under the tree this year there was an abundance of items, and they werent from the pound shop either" - oh yes all four of us in gainful employment certainly suits us).

There was one present opening hitch where I had put the wrong labels on the presents and hubs opened up a seven book set of Maya Angelou books, and looked puzzled at the first one called "I know why the caged bird sings", he didnt know how to smile and cover his real thoughts and look happy, he was releived when i said , Oh thats not yours, when he finally opened the sopranos box set relief was all over his face....

After both my rug rats disappeared to their prospective squeezes, me and hubs got all we needed to make a headstone presentable and headed to Peel Green Cemetary, it was very cold and the grown and flowers were frozen, but we set about with hot soapy water cleaning John Kenny's headstone and on a day usually reserved for overindulgence it felt a good thing to be doing, I (nosey as ever) looked around at others tending graves and was struck by a couple with two children at a childs grave, they spent some time there and when they all turned to leave, just the mother looked back and kissed the headstone, I was the only person to witness this as the dad was leading the children back to the car, I can honestly say its been 5 days now and the feeling has stayed with me, I cant imagine a grief worse than losing a child, it goes against nature, and is cruel and wrong in so many ways...

When we had said our goodbyes which included us both deciding that John would have thought us completely mad to be tending a grave in minus 8 (Yes john my feet, legs and knees where frozen) we headed off to Rusholme for Chicken Makhani, Lamb Karahi, Tiger Lagers finished off with a coffee (hubs had his one coffee of the year) mints and the traditional vimto lollies.


God bless us one and all

Mahooo

Reality

We in the UK love reality tv shows, but we dont like reality do we.... not really... I wonder how many of us have relationships held together with holidays, meals out and endless trips to the trafford centre to fill the emptiness we feel inside, emptiness for unfulfilled dreams we dont have the time, energy or freedom to fulfill now..... I am going to be spending and shopping less in January (obviously once i have purchased my marked down gold/silver wrap for next christmas) I might like to make more collages with scraps you know like the wombles, I like doing that.

I read a book once that said for true happiness you need to find what you like doing and just do more of it..... so maybe the answer is simple,although what about all the stuff i hate doing but still have to, cooking,cleaning, washing, ironing and solving other peoples problems, all that endless paperwork ...... sorry this not so much a blog and a random blah blah, sorry

Must try harder

Maria

Circle of Trust

Peeps

Last friday was our works do, now as you may remember a few bloggs back, I had had a nasty alergic reaction to alcohol which had left me with a three day hangover and more remorse that i had turned into " a one woman show" (that people hadnt bought tickets for) so I was "pacing myself", the meal at the Circle club was very good, excellent service and of course good company, the christmas crackers were quality, and the prizes would be useful throughout the year,for me the mini nail clippers would come in handy (As long as I know have a breakdown and start clipping my toes nails on the 256 like that strange man who sits upstairs at the front on the early bus - still at least he is making full use of the comute) a colleague who is enjoying dipping her toe in the waters of online dating, won a folding ruler, but the least said about that the better.

I did giggle when the joke from the middle of the cracker caught fire on the tealight centrepiece and our efforts to make the fire go out only fanned the flames, lucky for us even amongst our small group of 8 we had two fire wardens, so this was quickly resolved.

after our third round of drinks at a nearby pub on deansgate the game began.....

I made the Circle (for the so called circle of trust game) from the lid of a dairylea box and us large stickers on each side to give durability to the circle. we delved into the envelope for the first question:

What was the best christmas present you ever received, and so it began, an hour passed and the questioning was getting more intense:

have you ever stolen anything and were you caught (a few suprises there)
who was the first famous person you fancied - a strange collection including Jimmy Nail, Barbra windsor, cat stevens (that took twenty minutes to explain since he had changed his name/religion) Tom Jones and Dusty springfield.

The last question of the night (that I am admitting to) was.............

Have you ever been propositioned by a famous person, of course my claim to fame is Lemmy from Motorhead fame with his chat up line of "do you fancy coming back to my hotel, no funny business".... another colleague said Shane Ritchie, who said "come on girls lets go back to my room, you can sell a story on me" now tempting as both sounded we didnt have any grounds to sell stories the next morning and left with dignity if not a little curiousity as to how much the news of the world would have paid..................

Once outside manchester was covered is a thick layer of snow and that my friends is all I am prepared to say on the matter

The original circle of trust is long gone and was last seen being used as a beer mat in the slug and lettuce on Deansgate

Mahooooo

Harris Tweed

Peeps

the letter said

Dear Mrs K

You are a winner!, now you cant get a better introduction in a letter than that, and the quality of the paper was a wonderful cream woven paper, non of this cheap photocopy stuff, oh no I think the phrase your looking for is "Bespoke"...

I was the winner of a genuine Harris Tweed gentlemans Dalmore jacket, rrp £250.00, all they required were hubs measurements and they would dispatch the item forthwith (yes I am getting carried away, but I need to*. Well I had a go at measuring but decided it should be a professional so I enlisted the skills of my neighbour (and seamstress to the irish dancing stars of tomorrow, Ann), as I was advised to watch the promotional video clip on the website first we three stood around our home computer screen and watched as a posh gent greeted us by opening a heavy wooden door and said.....

Good morning sir,


Feel the quality of this genuine Harris Tweed custom made jacket, woven by hand by crofters of the West Isles of Scotland, using 21 different colours, yes made in the outer hebredes today and always will be. The quality is protected by an act of parliament, it comes complete with the beautiful mahogany coat hanger, you will just ooze style and class....

well after that informative clip I looked at hubs who was puffing his chest out and had a certain look on his face you dont see when he is eating a meat and potatoe pie at the match, oh yes this was quality the likes of which we may never see again...

Our seamstress neighbour measured him in three places (I think we were all kind of releived it wasnt a suit he had won, too familiar by far.

the following day, armed with these measurements I phoned the order through to Lorna at Harris Tweed Scotland (who disapointingly didnt have a scottish accent) and three days later, the door bell sounded at the office i work in (is there any point in having things delivered to home our home address? I am at work during normal delivery hours anyhow) I signed for the parcel and opened it to reveal something that was beautifully made and very possibly the most expensive item I have won in a long time..... a couple of colleagues tried the jacket on and then it was home for hubs.

Nervously he took it off the mahogony hanger and eased it over his shoulders, perfect, now did he really have to do a posh voice, and ask wear his cravat was?

now the next thing to consider is what on earth does he wear with it?

He did mutter as he put it in his wardrobe, "it makes the rest of my clothes look shxx", never a true word has been spoken, it could be because the rest of your wardrobe is shxx........ meanwhile somewhere in the trafford centre lurks a pair of pants/jeans and a top that will go with it all.....

more on that story later

Mahoooooo



Aparantly.

Apple Bottom Jeans

Dear Peeps

The other week (after losing a stone, did I mention I lost a stone?) my jeans were lose on me and I needed a belt - to stop them falling down and showing my builders bum. I spotted some, but as I was so wrapped up against the cold I simply couldnt be bothered trying them on so I left it, this was to be the right thing to do because.....

I got a phone call from a representative from The Perfume Shop, you know the one they have in the arndale when you have just spent £45 on a perfume and you see it in there for £32 and you feel suitabley gutted, yes that one. Anyway a while ago I had filled in a prize draw in there and won the runner up prize of

A pair of Apple bottom jeans
Apple Bottom T shirt
Apple bottom handbag

As I had to collect the package from the post office (they always try to deliver when I am at work, whats that about? shouldnt they have an evening shift or something) I carried onto work and opened the large box containing the above beautifully wrapped in tissue paper and a long gold ribbon. Wonderful, there is nothing like it

A colleague came and in when I showed her the jeans she started singing...

Shawty had them Apple Bottom Jeans
Boots with the fur
The whole club was lookin at her

I tried them on and they fit like a glove (which is a stupid saying as I only have two legs) the t shirt is fine too, the bag well after consultation with my teenage daughter who pulled a face like she had been sucking a lemon (not an apple) we may see if we can get anyone interested on ebay....

As the works christmas do is coming up soon at the Circle club I have changed the lyrics to

She had them Apple Bottom Jeans
the boots dont have fur
No one in the circle club is looking at her
She looks about 43 and is dying for a pee
if she drinks much more she'll lose her door key


Next week I should be taking delivery of the Bespoke Harris Tweed Jacket for sean

Aparently it will make him "ooze sophistication and style"

laters kids.......

How to be the Life and (Ar...) Sole of the Party

Pace yourself

Make sure you have a really busy day leading up to the much looked forward to night out....

My own personal suggestions are trying to fit in a visit to your mother, an eye test, three loads of washing, the dryer going constantly, a call out from British gas to inspect an intermittent fault on your (soon to be condemned central heating boiler) a weekly shop without a list , and then home for

Getting Ready

Realise you havent actually allowed any time for this and apply heavy dark eyes for a smoky eye effect and red lips accentuated firstly with a lip liner a different colour from the lipstick, to get you into the Party mood throw down two very large glasses of red wine on an empty stomache.


Arrive late


Say around 10.00 pm, Decide to drink the homemade punch ....... and say way too many times “so this represents at least 3 of my 5 portions a day (to anyone who will listen)

Get Chatty

If you feel intimidated by speaking to strangers, drink two more glasses of punch and then grab a huge glass of red wine from any table and seek people out who you vaguely know from conversations with your host throughout the previous 3 years and make comments such as:


“So you decided to stay together after all”


“Oh you’re the one whose wife gets really jealous if she sees you talking to another woman”


“I haven’t brought my husband he hates social gatherings”


Continue to drink........ red wine like a thirsty toddler guzzles vimto at a picnic, and carry on until your lips have a black residue on them....which should go perfectly with your bloodshot eyes and smoky eye shadow.


Eating


When the birthday cake comes round, help yourself to a massive piece, and don’t bother to remove any candles first, after all you’ve made that many faux pars all etiquette can go straight out the window.


Leaving

Be one of the last ones to leave, by now your host must be desperate for a cup of tea and their own bed, but their subtle hints such as “shall I ring you a cab” go unheaded, seriously they would need to write you a note which you wouldn’t be able to read as your vision is as if you have just got off the waltzers at the funfair.

Being Collected

Your kind hearted grown up son comes to collect you, make him seriously concerned you may throw up on his beautiful upholstery, manage to make it into your own hall before vomiting on your dress, spend the next thirty minutes throwing up into your own sink (minus the pots) and giving a running commentary along the lines of .... I don’t remember eating that as your first born rubs your back.......... just in case you haven’t taken enough risks with your health and social standing have a shower before drying yourself and going to bed.


The morning after


The next day will be a total right off and if you manage to get into work at all on t he Monday/Tuesday you may live by Wednesday you realise you have been face book shunned and two people who suggested a coffee and a catch-up one lunchtime are not replying to your emails......

Conclusion:

This story isn’t so funny after all is it.

IKEA

Dear Peeps

If anyone was in IKEA yesterday and saw a sign for an item called GORMLESS i admit It was me, I saw GORM and i wrote LESS on the end with the free pencil. Its wrong and childish but it did make me laugh almost as much as an episode of Harry Hill.

I always hesitate when there is a trip to IKEA, it messes with my head all those odd names, you see in houseing units of hollinwood (runner up in my shopping experience list) things are named properly, Oakly and Regal, in John Lewis (top on my shopping experience list) things are called Stafford and Brinkley.

In Ikea you really want the coffee table but its called Klimflokt, and the coasters are call nim, thankfully the book cases are called BILLY, and I am sure thats one of the reasons its their best seller. We bought a floating shelf call LACK and its in our bedroom waiting to be fitted to the wall under the oval mirrow, which doesnt have a name (thank god) anyway the unit my hubs is putting together now, whilst listening to the beach boys for inspiration is called MOLGER. God knows why its only a unit, theres non of this in B and Q, does anyone know what B and Q stands for?


Flunk, bink, Effling, no there not other names of items from Ikea thats what I can hear from down stairs from my hubs who is struggling to find where to put the screws into the Molger.

Laters

M

Innocent Veg Pots

Wednesday came along and at 12.00 noon I got the call from the Innocent Veg Pot Coordinator (what an ace job title), she said she would be delivering a variety of 12 veg pots in the next 10 minutes and a cry from the office of Hurrrah! went up, as we were pretty damn hungry....

So down I went to meet the courier and hot footed it back to the office microwave and we sampled a pot each, as silence and the waft of bombay curry, chickpea daahl, mousaka and morocan spice floated around the office we all decided that actually there was a thing such as a free lunch and we were enjoying it.

I may just have been the only applicant who saw the footnote that read "does your office deserve a free lunch? courtesy of veg pots just email us your office details and a mobile number and if your lucky enough, blah blah blah.... yes thats how easy it was.

The good thing about the veg pots is they are the equivalent of three of your five daily portions, so that plus two glasses of red wine and your sorted....... except I am never drinking again remember..............

Mahooo

Hungover

I admit it, I didnt just cross the line I threw up on it (Homer Simpson 1998)

Funny

Dear Lesley (my one and only blogg follower, you deserve a personal mention)

Its been a funny old week, I have won a Harris Tweed jacket for a man, the man in question, didnt know what to think when we perused the website that Lorna the Harris Tweed prize coordinator directed us, see for yourself on www.harristweedscotland.com.
The jacket in question is a beautiful hand made affair and comes complete with leather buttons and a mahogany handmade coathanger (which will put all the next/burtons coathangers to shame), all we have to do is measure him up in inches and let Lorna have the correct measurements and within 6-8 weeks the Dalmore blue harris tweed jacket will arrive, its worth £250, and yes hubs did say "can we not just have the money", honestly just because my prizes are random, doesnt mean they shouldnt be fully appreciated.

Now the other thing I won this week is a pair or jeans, t shirt and handbag by a brand called Apple Bottom by Nelly, the Nelly in question being a rap artist.

The jeans and clothing line has been developed to accentuate a womans natural curve, I am not sure what effect this will have on me, as the models on the website look voluptuous and hooker like and everything looks fairly bling, but you know what after that stone I lost I need new jeans and will wear em whatever, the strap line on the website says " jeans will make you want to shake that booty all night long", well I dont know about that.

Lastly, I know they say there is no such thing as a free lunch but......

tomorrow the people behind the innocent smoothies are dropping off 10 innocent veg pots at our office. I promise some snaps of this and of course the tweed jacket and me in me bling jeans. for the moment you will have to make do with a picture of a very rude tomatoe grown by my own fair hands this summer, I did eat him even though it felt very wrong (especially with two work colleagues watching me) it was never like that on the good life i am sure.......

Busy

In one week I have managed to prove without a shadow of a doubt that I am a lousy*

a) housekeeper

b) mother

c) daughter

d) **I have also managed to get myself blacklisted from a leading magazine testing panel. It’s not going well and aint that the truth!



Lousy Housekeeper - for the third week running there is the usual "socks reunited" fiasco where no one can find a mathing pair, the family us four are divided into two who care (Hubs and Son ) and two how dont care (Me and daughter) neither can understand the others point of view so its not exactly a tag team but it came close last night when I tried to argue that a navy sock with nike written in white was almost the same as a black sock with kickers written on it, i mean in the great sceme of things......

Lousy Mother - It’s my son’s birthday tomorrow and although I managed to get a manchester city birthday cake, there is a good chance I am about 12 years too late, you see my first born is actually turning 22 and the look of delight I am hoping for just isn’t going to happen, fortunately his other presents may get a smile (even if only briefly) what can I say, it’s taken all those years for the stars to align and for me to walk into Tesco’s and see said cake marked down. (Lousy Mother)

Lousy Daughter - it had been a full 8 days and although most days I had been meaning to phone my mum up for a chitchat and see what she has been up to by the time i had a free couple of minutes it was almost 10.00pm and too late to do so, then sleep then up then mamoth sandwhich making then comute then work, then home then tea, then socks reunited etc.... anyway I got a telling off which I would normally have taken but the week had been so manic and not of my causing I said "youve gotta be kiddin me", you have no idea how busy i have been etc....... hence a quiet rant from a woman who remembers being a child of 11 thinking that being grown up meant a choice between living with another fun girl as in The liver birds or living with a group of kids touring the country solving mysterys as in Scooby do, what I got was more like the munsters with less money no hired help having to go out to work full time....

and lastly, blacklisted from a major magazine as a lousy product tester, well this I describe as a misunderstanding (I say i describe it as such because they certainly wont ..... more on that story later, if any one posts and asks me, in fact as I only have one person who reads my blogg, Lesley, come on do you want to know?????

Mamogram

It is a funny word, I know its a verson of mammory - I used to work with a canadian man in the 80;s who told me when he finished with his big boobed girlfriend when he was at high school his friend shouted "thanks for the mamories" and everyone laughed but she never even let on to him after that, so its with these thoughts I find myself at the Breast Clinic at Wythenshawe hospital on the very last day of my two weeks summer vacation, hubs is with me for support and the place is packed out but very nice. I dont wait too long then I go into a room with a very nice (if a little short) nurse, she says as i am tall i would be better off having the mamogram standing up, its just an Xray of your boob no big deal but the equipment needs adjusting to your particular height and shoulder width, it was a bit like having two thick see through chopping boards with your boob in between and flattened to a very odd shape, it did cross my mind that somewhere out there in the great WWW there is probrably a group of grubby anoraked, cord wearing freaks who love to see such images, but then i figured well good luck to em...

I then had a scan to make sure nothing had been missed. The final consultation (all this took a couple of hours with weights in between) was with a specialist who asked lots of questions, did i breastfeed my children (when they were babies, obviously not now, they are after all 17 and 21 and it would be too weird for words) and loads of other questions, anyway the upshot is, my gp was right to refer me, but she could categorically say I had no abnormalities in my breasts, the lump she felt was a reactivated milk duct from the very mild effects of the mirena hrt inplant. She recomended I take a high dose of evening primrose available from Holland and Barretts and be on my way............

It was a relief, although I have to say I had blocked the what ifs away in a room in my mind.

thats all I have to say about boobs, floppy droopers, squirters

M

Anaphylactic Shock (almost)

Right, so if you read the last story "Big Knockers" you will know that a man in a suit with possibly undiagnosed taurettes syndrome chose to shout this in my ear..... thuse starting a chain reaction that had be relating the story to a few colleagues and my hubs who reminded me that I had been complaining about my right "big knocker", aching .........................

My gp refers me for a mamogram but in the meantime purely precautionary she prescribes a hefty dose of Penicillin antibiotics (one to be taken four times a day 500mg) this is as a "just in case" that my painful knocker isnt an infection duct or abcess.

The realist that I am I take the tablets make the appointment at the breast clinic and pack for my holidays (a week in wexford, followed by a few days in Lanberis) In all honesty I didnt give the situation a whole lot of head space, what will be will be and worrying wont change it. A day into the holiday and hubs comments "whats up with your face it looks all puffy, especially your lips and they have a line all round them", sure enough on closer examination my lips do seem to be plumped up, is it the new lip plumping action lip gloss? errr nope, next I encounter a full sprectrum of side effects, on explaining these to a young pharmacist (he must have been mortified) he told me to cease with the antibiotics and I needed piriton and antihists to stop the itching of anywhere on my body that had raw nerve endings (hmmmmmn) as we were on irish soil by this time a trip back to my gp' wasnt an option so i did what anyone would do, I topped up on the piriton, and drank copious amounts of guiness. it took a week but the itching stopped, I did however put on 5lds in weight.

M

Oh yeah, I have since found out my severe reaction is a forerunner to a complete Anaphylactic Shock which is very dangerous.

Big Knockers

It was a day like any other day, when after getting a lift into manchester by my son, I walk along market street with my daughter quietly talking about trivia when I am aware of a man in a suit coming towards me, very loudly in my ear he says

BIG KNOCKERS

then walks away, I dont dare turn around as there is always the possibility he is waiting for a reaction or something, my daughter says did he mean you mum? and I can only sumise that yes, as it was my ear he shouted it into he must have done.

Now that the focus is clearly on a part of my anatomy I have come to take for granted I must admit I am a mixture of shocked and amused. The story is relayed at least three times during the day and I mention it when I get home to my hubs, who laughs at first then says "didnt you say one of them was aching". This is indeed true and so the real story begins.......

I make an appointment to see my GP and explain the ache, she says she is going to refer me for a mamogram at the specialist hospital but as a precaution she gives me a very high dose of antibiotic and as she asks that question "are you alergic to penacilin" and I say no. Another adventure in Kennyland begins (actually two)

His body is a Temple ......not!

From Monday to Friday his body is a temple, he wont even drink tea after 7pm and never touches coffee or alcohol during these five days of abstinence, he goes to the gym or plays football each night after work, and shocking as it may seem Friday night has also been gym night, no takeway with his family, nope, he cooked chicken breast marinated in sun dried tomatoes (i dont think the sun was in this country). Come Saturday all this changes he skipped the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding evening meal offered by that woman he gave gastric reflux to all those years ago in favour f the phrase eatings is cheating, and scrubbed up and went out all out to change the mantra from My body is a temple to My body is a brewery/kebab shop/brothel (if i am very lucky)

This experiement went on to prove that he let down himself and Urmston mens club, yes he was hungover.

With a tear in my eyes am I

a) Very proud
b) Relieved he hasn’t choked on his own vomit
c) Wondering when he will grow out of this seesawing of of values


This is the boy that gave me gatric reflux, i do hold a grudge and one day he too will feel that burning pain of excess that takes his breath away...........

Mrs Mahoo (keeping in real)

Jillie's R.I.P....

I have been pretty busy this week, but not so busy that I hadnt noticed that the famous "Jillies nightclub" had closed/gone into liquidation. I havent shed a tear but I have dug out some old snaps taken long before home computers, mobile phones, digital cameras, flatscreened televisions. In fact the only modern invention i am sure was around at that time was the microwave, they were really big chunky things and cost a staggering £650! honestly, there was non of the popping to the supermarket and getting one for just under £50, anyway i have gone right off the subject Jillies....

The first time i went to jillies, it was a much anticipated event, i had left school so it would have been 1983, I didnt even wear heels or makeup, I had enough money to pay for entrance fee of just £1.25 and bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale (ok i copied what everyone else did) were £1 a bottle and i remember I could manage just two before i went onto coke. I loved it, there was lots of people in various fashions, i admired the girls with their back combed hair (the two Lynnes) who I thought were beautiful, they would get up to dance to "Jamies crying" by xxxxxxx, boys got up headbanging or playing air guitar (they werent joking), the dj's played all the music I loved, More than a feeling by journey, was a floor filler, I didnt want the saturday nights to end, but when they did, I would pop next door to angels and have their version of KFC, gettng the all night bus home was an eye opener, in those days they still had conductors who would come upstairs and take the fairs the 192 was an experience i wouldnt have missed for the world. The wonderful characters, everyone was having such a good time they didnt need to fight, they were just too busy rocking..

So, I dont shed a tear, times change and things move on I had the best time ever and so did everyone else who was there at that time at that age.

Its all embroidered in with concerts at the Apollo, nights at Umist rock disco and the phoenix.

When ZZ top came on the large screen everyone stopped to watch the videos of, She's got legs or sharp dressed man, or Twisted sister and we even watched and laughed at the David coverdale ones with that model girlfriend of his at the time (honestly david what were you thinking).

good times, see the snap attached? its me and Lemmy from motorhead the story goes something like this............ it must have been september 1986 and I was out with Tracy (who would later become my sister in law) but on this particular night she was just a pizzed up friend, we had been to jillies and the banshee and she was very drunk we were just walking past the midland when she looks over the road and shouts LOOK ITS LEMMY FROM MOTORHEAD, and you know what it actually was, he and his bouncer (he needed a bouncer??) came over and got talking to us and Lemmy famously said "listen girls, were staying at the piccadilly hotel, would you like to come back to our room for a drink, no funny business"? we laughed and said no and got in a taxi back to eccles, in my experience when a boy says no funny business it means he has/is/or would really like there to be some...... thats my story and I am sticking to it....................

Love hurts..............

Many, many years ago a girl of just Twenty found herself to be pregnant, shocked and stressed by this she kept the fact hidden for many weeks, this was relatively easy to do as she had just left home and changed her job, therefore the people who perhaps knew her the best were not at hand to witness the change in body shape ( big) eating habits (donuts and lucozade) she was very frightened and thought that if she didn’t think about the problem it might just go away…. when she finally registered with a GP she famously said

“I think we can dispense with the pregnancy test, in around 17 weeks you will be having a baby”!

now none of that really matters, but a story without a good background is no story at all and that’s the back ground……………….

The morning (noon and night) sickness went on and on, had she been losing weight or any sign that this was affecting the child growing inside her I am sure the doctors would have been concerned as it wasn’t she got the largest bottles of gaviscon on prescription (free) they were so heavy there was no way she could carry one from the pharmacy without the aid of a bag on wheels (all this for a former rock chick) the bottles were the size of demijohns.

She continued to take gaviscon in big swigs (dispensing with the 5ml spoons immediately) and this continued until the 7lb 1 oz baby pushed his way into this world (she always pictured that scene out of alien, it wasn’t anything like, but the legal high permitted whilst in labour can do a funny thing to your memories, especially to a fan of science fiction)

They say love hurts but in my experience it doesn’t hurt as much as gastric reflux

I have just started a prescription of lanzoprazole, but I may kill you if you mention rennies, arrowroot biscuits, ginger ale, peppermint cordial or the fact I caused it through eating spicy foreign food, just a warning…….

mahoooooo

Congratulations

I clicked on my email today after work, obviously looking to see what I had won and there it was


Dear Maria

Thanks for sending in your "little ray of sunshine" suggestion, I am pleased to tell you that you are one of our winners and your suggestion will be included in the May issue of Virgin Trains magazine.


So you want to know what my input was, its hear:

Dear Virgin

I love spending Saturday afternoons rummaging in charity shops with my
friend. Sometimes we get bargains – this week I bagged a wonderful brown
leather jacket for just a fiver! – and even if we don’t buy anything, we
thoroughly enjoy ourselves.
Maria Kenny

So thats how easy it is to win, and what did I win, well i know its nothing major I think its a set of books or a book voucher, but how fabtastic that my snippets will be available for all to read on a boring train journey throughout May.

keep on comping

Also, i didnt buy the conker necklace but (and you can ask my hubs for clarification on this) we saw a man wearing a conker necklace on "The Strogget" in copenhagen last month, I KID YOU NOT

Copenhagen (Wonderful)

Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen................ I dont any more of that song than you do. I do know I had a fabtastic weekend - Friday, Saturday and Sunday in this capital city for NOUGHT PENCE.

We got our flights out at 10.ooish and were collected at Copenhagen airport by a chaufeur, complete with the black leather gloves and a sign that read MRS MARIA KENNY on it, I gave him the nod and we followed him to a black limo, the windows were darkened and double glazed and hubs was rather taken with the mode of transport, I was more impressed that we had only a 20 min drive to our centrally located hotel and free drinks to slurp on the way. Our driver Chris was very nice, his english was perfect with a slight american accent. As i looked out of the window it was all i could do to keep myself from thinking about James Bond films, "No Mr bond I expect you to die", i think it was a mixture of unexpected international travel, a driver in a uniform and black leather gloves.

Our hotel was nice, a double balcony and large enough to contain a sitting area, we threw our stuff in our room and got out and about, obviously after sampling a Kebap our first quick snack to keep us going while we walked along the Strogget - a mile of shops than meanders and twists and turns wonderfully bringing you into squares, courtyards all filled with bicicles and acordian players.

We called for our first drink at Strekkers bar and tasted turbourg lager, it worked out at around £5 a pint but as we constantly reminded ourselves for the rest of the weekend, this wasnt our money after all it was courtesy of my comp, and we raised glass after glass of various beverages to Colgate, god bless em.

I Love Lola (Still)

I still love my car, she has been in my possession for just over two years now and we have bonded over so many old cassette tapes, I am almost in tears now, we have rediscovered, Blondie, the full back catalogue of Iron Maiden, who doesnt want their mum collecting them from the Trafford Centre with "Run to the Hills"? my current tape is T'Pau, who I remember watching in Leeds around 1986, they were supporting Brian Adams, on the "Run to you tour" - or whatever it was called.... I remember it was a really cold night, but being only 19 I dressed in skimpy inappropriate clothes (no wonder I got pregnant) we were all so tired in the 1980's it was the stress of constantly backcombing our hideous hair does (more of a hair dont really) and pushing our sleeves up...... anyway none of that matters really, the fact is i came accross a gem of a cassette hardly used and for the princely sum of just 50p to sing China in your Hand all the way through after all these years has been emotional to say the least ..............

China in Your Hand
From the album Bridge of Spies by T'Pau
Written by Carol Decker and Ron Rogers...
Verse 1
It was a theme she had
On a scheme he had
told in a foreign land
To take life on earth
To the second birth
and the man was in
command
It was a flight on the wings
Of a young girls dreams
That flew too far away
And we could make the monster live again
Oh hands move and heart beat on
Now life will return in this electric storm
A prophecy for a fantasy
The curse of a vivid
mind
Don't push too far
Your Dreams are china in your hand
Don't wish too hard
Because they may come true
And you can't help them
You don't know what you might
Have set upon yourself
China in your hand
Come from greed
Never born of the seed
T
ook life from a barren hand
On eyes wide
Like a child in the form of a man
A story told
A mind of his own
An omen for our time
We take a flight on the wings of fantasy
Then you push too far
And make your dreams reality
Yeah! china in your hand
B
ut they're only dreams
And you shouldn't push too far

wonderful...................

Scandinavian Viking Vampires

Everyone needs some nice eye candy to get them through the working day, I change the little snap I have on my works pinboard whenever I feel like and this week its the actor who plays Eric Northman - Or should I say Eric the owner of Fangtasia, the vampire bar in Bon Temps - still not getting it? well you need to tune in to FX this friday (and every friday for the next 12 weeks) anyway, the actors name is Alexander Skarsgard. I got the little snap from the last page (page 98 if you need to go a searching your recycling bin - go on do it now its on page 98 of The Guide, did i mention its on page 98?) the actor obviously doenst look the same as the character he plays but he is well and 100% fit as some of my class mates used to write on the back of toilet doors in the early 1980's.

I had one of those mad stare moments where you know you are staring but cant seem to move away, a real comfortable stare I call it, oh go on you know what i mean. Anyway in case you dont know that I won a trip to Copenhagen next month, i cant beleive there is anyone in the Manchester area who doesnt know, it suddenly came into my mind, Copenhagan thats Scandinavian, thats where Eric the Vampire originally came from, ok over 1000 years ago, but I am going to be on the look out for any looky liky's whilst meandering through Tivoli Gardens, and the flights are booked with Scandinavian Airways, there is a possiblity that the cabin crewe could be distant relatives of his, the thought has warmed me up more than a chicken and ham greggs pasty i can tell you.

I can let you know what the skands look like, of course with my blonde hair they will think i am a native, till i say in a broad mancunian accent that no one understands “what 19 Kroners for a straddle, I mean struddle?

After all that i will need a lie down in a dark room (with a fit vampire).

Thats all

Mrs Mahooo

A MUM OR A MUG?

I dont want to come over all whingey but I have to say, that way too much of my time either before work, at lunchtime or after work is spent ensuring we have a warburtons thick sliced loaf, barms, and other provisions, now this would be ok if it was just for me and i was the only person available to have to do this, but I am not, i have a more than capable husband, a teenage daughter and a grown up son, 22 this year and it never seems to cross their minds that this responsiblity should be shared accross the family, how did this happen?

My buckaroo theory is that we as mums just keep allowing an extra responsibility to be added, sometimes it is added so carefully we dont realise at the time and six months down the line you job title has changed slightly until eventually it might as well be MUG instead of MUM. Anyway thats what i was thinking tonight as i waited for the met home from town with - a loaf, barms, orange squash, three peppers, and two large Quorn cottage pies, i had them in the oven and hid the wrappers before anyone could protest, of course I didnt fool hubs who very wisely just said " dont ever give me this again, quorn my arse", this was quickly followed by "dont worry i will eat it", i think he saw the shimmer of - am gonna kick yo ass sumbitch ya goddamn betcha ya'll eat it - or something like that. Anyway, the eldest didnt noticed and ate the lot and you know what if he doesnt like it he can join the goddamn circus and leave, I say this as i noticed that those snake hipped odd bodds are in town again, circo soleil i think there called, now i wonder if they eat Quorn.

Also, i made a concerted effort to stop punishing myself, and i cancelled my gym membership, i did have a big fat lie of a reason why if they asked, i was going to say i had to have an operation that may or may not be successful and If it was successful it would take me months to recover from, i even practiced getting my eyes all sad, instead I blurted out " I want to cancel my gym membership, I find it really boring", the look on the superslim gym person was a bit shocked and disgusted really.

I cant tell you how much lighter i feel without that millstone round my neck, now if it could just be conveyed on the scales that would be just fine and dandy

Mahoo

Sweeping Side fringes

I finally did it, I decided I was not only going to grow out my fringe but also get some blonde colour put in, now I find myself looking at every one with a sweeping side fringe and wondering how on earth they manage it, I had the new do last Tuesday so its almost one week, its been a real endurance test, ok I haven’t been hit by a car coming that I didn’t see or anything, but I have to confess to almost getting on the 258 instead of the 256 – a real school girl error. And one you can be forgiven for making if you need your eyes testing but not because you are trying to sport the “sweeping side fringe”. I almost (my stylist needs to ignore this) got the scissors out and hacked myself something, only the thoughts of looking like Garth off Wayne’s world stopped me. More on the sweeping side fringe at a later date, I mean Phil oaky managed it back in the day, were there any long term optical health problems? I note that he now has a skin head, is that to ensure he has full vision? And Hitler, he had a floppy sweeping side fringe no wonder he was always so angry. Don’t you want me baby, don’t you want me whooooa ……………………

Christmas At The Midland

I awake on Christmas morning around 9.00am, I have not a shred of stress in my whole body, I smile, I go downstairs and make tea for me, hubs and feckles, there are no spouts to peel, no turkeys to baste and it’s a light, wonderful feeling, yes all familial, maternal and obligatory responsibilities have been discharged, I am empowered, I am also a little nervous, I look over at hubs eating his bacon barm and wonder what he is thinking ( could be a) what on earth are we doing leaving our home and running away like fugitives to a city centre hotel? Or b) this bacon is nice – who can ever tell what a man is thinking?)

We open presents and are all pleased with what we have. In about 30 minutes we are packed and ready to go, after dropping off our youngest at her boyfriends where she will be spending Christmas Day and wishing our eldest “all the best” we are driving into Manchester city centre, which is deserted, you know like that film Vanilla Sky’s staring Tom Cruise, you know the one.

The reason for this unusual Christmas Day behaviour?, well a few things really, last year in a nutshell, well I don’t think it will fit, but hear goes - the week before Christmas, our car was written off, my father in law had a fall and was leaving this mortal coil in (No) Hope Hospital, Salford and strangely enough we carried on as normal as was possible, not sure how we got through it but we did, the world is full of people limping along in many ways then the final straw came, nothing much but final straws don’t have to be do they? a very upsetting couple of days in Late November
(Feckles decided she was ditching the A levels and wanted to get a full time job instead, etc, etc ) instead of leaving my office and getting on the met to Stretford, I walked straight into The Midland Hotel, Manchester and quoting a “special code”, got a fantastic deal (not much more than your average travel lodge prices) I phoned hubs after the event and told him this was what I needed to do, he seemed ok with it at the time, perhaps a little puzzled about my mental health but that’s just fine and dandy, what he didn’t know what that exactly three days later after another upset I went back in and booked the following night too! (After that I made sure I got took a detour away from the hotel, or I may just have tried to move in there permanently like Albert Tacklock*

The décor is like something from another era, and funnily enough I had the film “The Shining” in my mind as we walked along the deserted corridors, so did hubs as he said “if I see a child on a Trike coming towards us or a grown man dressed as a bunny”……………… god bless our long standing relationship (23 years and counting, its become almost telepathic!).


We Check in to our king sized suite, our room is huge, the toiletries reassuringly expensive (Peckniffs – in Happy and Alive – which is how I feel on this Christmas afternoon) there is a bottle of Champers on ice and a box of luxury chocolates with the monogram of the hotel.


We open a bottle of red and clink glasses (Yes from my extensive wine cellar, we lovingly call “the Cupboard) I had never realised just how big the hotel was, I have never actually stayed there before, but I did audition for supermarket sweep with my father in law (bless him, he would have done anything for anyone) around May 1995 (we didn’t get through, his general knowledge had a few gaps – the most memorable one being that Bryan Adams was Canadian not Australian – he got him mixed up with Jason Donavon), but you know forgive and forget is my moto……..

after Hubs has put all his things away (I never unpack, I just leave my stuff in the suitcase or bag) I have checked out every cupboard, draw, checked what time breakfast is (up until 10.30am on weekends) and laughed that anyone would be so lazy as to ring housekeeping to have their bed put down and a bath run for them). We get in our car and head up to Rusholme, park up and head straight for our trusty favourite Al Quila, where we enjoyed a selection of starters and main courses, his being King Prawn Karahi and mine being Chicken Tikka Makhani, we were sent on our way with a Christmas card from all the staff and a bottle of white wine. Back in our room as we got ready to enjoy an evening getting slowly leathered in the Hotel Bar (you can take the couple out of Stretford etc………) I couldn’t believe how wonderful my Christmas had turned out to be, the following day I looked round the Sales on my own (bliss) hubs went to see his beloved Manchester City, we met up later went for a meal and finished off the evening at the Printworks watching Sherlock Holmes........

God bless us one and all


*Albert Tacklock affectionately known as Uncle Albert, by Ken Barlow, the actor who played Uncle Albert famously lived at the midland hotel for 15 years, and I have to say after a Christmas weekend there, I don’t blame him!