Moaning thread

Kelvinside or Morningside - I can be as 'refained' as anyone if required! My 'normal' speech is RP with Scots vowels and more pronounced 'r's.

Marydoll...I can hear your name being said in a (male) Scottish accent and in my imagination it sounds beguiling!!
Didn’t ‘doll’ get used as a pet name for a girl in Scotland at one time?

Marydoll was Rab C Nesbitt's wife in the comedy serious and my teaching colleagues , including my headteacher, found it amusing to call me that, as I'm such a refained lady.?

Today, at the seaside, I was in a clothes shop ( where else would I be found?) when I heard a voice calling, " Marydoll , where are you?". It was my three year old granddaughter. My son has taught her to call me that, he thinks it's amusing! ?

Love that you are back mabon
I’ve missed you!

mabon1. Nice to see you. Please add a high octane moan to qualify for a prize (cake ???). Ps nice to see you back.

I have come out in a rash - why? I got stung by nettles when weeding - too lazy to look for my gardening gloves. I can’t sleep because I nodded off after lunch. ☹️

shysal thanks for that advice. I rarely make pastry but next time, I'll use the paper.

MissAdventure Some time ago I fell in my garage and damaged goodness-knows-what in my bum and it took over a year before I could sit anywhere, even temporarily, in comfort.
Gave a whole new meaning to running buffet.

Too long at my computer still give me a pain in the bum. And that's not counting the constant complainers.....poor souls.

I wish it was as easy to soak your fundament in Epsom Salts, as it is your feet.

MissAdventure - come on Lass, fill in that form, we've already had a spell without you on GN and we don't want it to happen again.

If nowt else, get mad with me for calling you 'Lass' !!

Note to self: Don't rush and scoop up a Jack Russell that's come bounding into the kitchen having rolled in something disgusting. Getting her into the Belfast sink for a bath PDQ was not worth waking up with a bad back this morning.

#heavierthanshelooks

The good news, my favourite programme - Who Wants to be a Millionaire will be back on Saturday 24th August.

The bad news - I'm not on it. C'mon Jeremy, give us a ring.

Those damn lottery numbers haven't come up either.

Sorry lovebeige You may be asked to leave, you have inadvertently provided....good news.

Mr Less is parading around like some sort of custodian (of what?) quite irritating, the fence panel that was ruined 23 years ago still remains taunting me and I have eaten too much again.

Mr R is watching his favourite football team on his ipad and they are losing
You'd think the end of the world was looming.......I wish he'd just shut up!

Tell him "It's just a game"
That always cheers them up!

Someone said earlier about their dressmaking scissors being used for opening a bag of cement, well Mr Barmey has ruined two pairs of mine in the past and he now knows that if it happens again he will be looking after himself and my room for dressmaking etc will have a lock on it. I reckon its a hanging offence.

We spent a couple of hours clearing the front garden of twigs and leaves after last weekend's gale.

Just looked outside and the front doormat is covered in

LEAVES!

After weeks of rain, I went out into the morass garden to put compost around the fig tree.
Was crouching but then bent too far forward and fell on my face into 6" of glutinous mud (go on, laugh, you're allowed). My lawn is not well drained and is a bog every rainy season.

Trouble was, I was mid-lawn and there was the potential for many neighbouring eyes to see this bums-up catastrophe, which had me helpless with laughter as well as pinned down in the mire.

Also nowhere to pull myself upright.

So squelching with every swampy pace, I crawled on hands and knees to the boundary fence and was able (unseen, thank goodness) to haul myself to my feet, without having yet another 'accident' from laughter.

Every stitch of clothing into the laundry sink (too thick with mud to put straight into the machine) a good, hot shower, change and cuppa put me right.

Talk about The Creature From The Black Lagoon!

BradfordLass72. You have made me laugh so much I have to restart my pelvic floor exercises. I do not like doing them. ?☹️

Ah well, I suppose it comes to everyone eventually.

Last night I flung my knickers into the toilet and tried to flush the adjacent laundry basket.

You’re priceless ???

BradfordLass72 ha ha ha ha! I have laughed so much at your muddy story, I’ve forgotten what I have come in here to moan about.

I do like the idea of a moaning thread. I need to get up early as lying in bed gets me really painful by 6am.
My joints are knackered.
It eases up. I hope.

Today's disaster - well, not really but it bled a lot. I put this gory bit first in case you don't want to read any further.

I wanted to move a very heavy, 6ft long refectory table from my deck.
It was made 25 years ago by a lovely friend who specialised in mediaeval style furniture of extremely solid construction with no nails, just pegs to keep it all together.

It was originally placed there by two strong men, solid as oxen; I am just one fat old woman. But very stubborn.

Had I known at the time my weight-lifting son was visiting tomorrow, I might have left it so we could lift it together but I didn't. On the other hand, when I get a bee in my bonnet about something and I'm trying to prove to myself that I'm not old....

So, puffing and panting (the first half minute did that), I first upended the thing (I should really enter for the next Iron Woman competition) with the idea of 'walking' it, corner by corner across the deck, into my house, across the living room and out of the front door, down the drive and to the adjacent public walkway. (I'll explain why in a moment, don't stop me when I'm on a roll).

To get the table from the deck, I had to negotiate the channel my ranch-slider windows slide along.
And that was my undoing.

The table was balanced not as is its natural habit horizontally, but vertically on one of its (rotting) legs
I lost concentration for a moment, the table slipped and crashed onto my arthritic toes.

You have my word I did NOT swear, scream or shout. I could barely breathe let alone curse. There was a LOT of blood.

But I'm not a Yorkshire Lass for nowt, so bleeding freely from the little piggy that went to market and the one who had roast beef (rare by the looks of it), I upended the dratted thing once more and 'walked' it outside.

I turned it back onto its legs and dragged it a few inches at a time and it made the weirdest sound, like a bronchial brontosaurus breathing. Huuuuuuh, huuuuuh, huuuuh.

My neighbour came out, slightly disconcerted that the breathing was mine and asked if I needed help, bless his heart but I was almost at the fence.

Besides, he usually keeps me supplied with greens from his garden and I'm not sure how easy it is to bend if you rupture yourself.

Having got the table to the walkway, I hammered a piece of paper into the table (it was very windy and raining by this time) and wrote: "Free for Firewood".

It was gone in 10 minutes.

I can't actually see my toes but I dripped a bit of Tea Tree oil onto them and I'm hoping my next post here won't be about necropathy.

Ooops forgot - this is the style of table but it's very small and looks flimsy by comparison to my great hulking thing.

Bradfordlass what a wonderful story to start the day. So sorry for your toes though.

Bradfordlass72, oh my, you have been in the wars lately, what with Monday's mud bath, and Wednesday's bloodbath.
What are you doing on Friday?

??