Seeing double but not seeing red

I was amazed to see a Sheffield Wednesday game make it to the dizzy heights of appearing on Yahoo's world news page (other search engines are available....I'd better say that as my blog is powered by Google!). 
Well, the footie itself didn't make headlines, it was a referee gaff which proved newsworthy.  The silly Billy ref showed a player two yellow cards but didn't follow this with a compulsory red and poker straight arm with angry finger pointing towards the changing rooms.
See, I was right after all, it's the little things that make football interesting, like sending off errors and sprinklers coming on! (see previous blog)
As I know you are now on tenterhooks, I'll put you out of your misery.  Well, firstly a match day weather report.  It was blooming cold; or a 'trousers AND tights day' as me and a dear friend and fellow ex-pat in Portugal used to joke as we reminisced about the chilly UK climes.
The Owls played Huddersfield Town at Town's John Smith's Stadium, formerly the Galpharm, (nb. other breweries and non-prescription medication suppliers are available) and drew O - O.
Yawn.
The highlight for me at this game wasn't the pie this time (see previous blog), it was singing along with 4,000 other Wednesdayites:
      'I've got a shed, as big as this, (repeat)
      It's got a door and a window, 
      I've got a shed as big as this.' 
(sung to the tune of 'When all the Saints').
Tee hee.
And I always find it funny when the rival Terriers and the Owls fans join their voices in unison at this fiercely fought Yorkshire derby for the uplifting chorus of, 'we all hate Leeds'.
As usual at away games, I learned some new, shall we say 'grown-up' words.  Mind you, what are grown-up words these days?  My five-year-old runs around singing, 'hey, sexy lady, oopa is gangnam style' and thrusting his non-existent hips, and he knows all the lyrics to Candy and other 'pop' songs that would have resulted in a straight red card and a sending to my room if I had dared to sing them when I was five!

The ref sees only yellow (not red)

The one where I get a bit tipsy

Just thought I'd step back in time to the week before last, and slightly further, into the Middle Ages......

With not a fork in sight, it was a true test of how far we are prepared to go to cast off our inbred good manners in polite company.  And it was a bloody good night (excuse my French) in aid of a good cause (Combat Stress).
The reason for the costume-donning (see picture below) was a Medieval charity ball complete with trestle tables and benches and a live Medieval band (which seems in itself, unlikely).
It was a case of quickly breaking the silence with the strangers on each side of you to organise synchronised nudging forward, or wearing your soup.  We plumped for nudging.
However, although spoons were thankfully provided for the soup, they were cleared away before we had time to spot the absence of forks for the main meal.  It was alright chomping Medieval-style on our spare ribs and chicken legs, but the potato salad proved interesting.  We were all sneaking looks around the table to see who had resorted to cheating and using their pudding spoon to scoop up the potatoes.
As one would expect on a night associated with Medieval merry-making, the booze flowed.  I'm  not a seasoned drinker and it wasn't long before, in the style of an AA attendee, I was revealing to anyone who cared to listen (and those that didn't) that I never clean my windows, or my oven.
Now, although clearly not as meaningful as publicly declaring a potentially life-threatening addiction, anyone who knows me knows that, as the Channel 4 documentary title went, I'm a little bit OCD in a Monica from Friends kind of way.  Declaring that I don't clean my windows is akin to the episode when Chandler discovers Monica's secret junk room. 
I then just did some dodgy dancing to some dodgy music and was spotted begging for the Time Warp and singing Hang the DJ when the playlist went down hill.
Shocked at my tactless behaviour the next day I asked my husband if I had really been so rude to the DJ.  He said, 'yes, but it's OK, everyone just ignored you'.


OK, two blogs in one day, I'm exhausted and off to relax.  Now, who has moved my label maker?

A night of knights and fair maidens

Did you have a good one?

It's Boxing Day and it seems we've moved on to stock seasonal phrase number 2: - "Did you have a good one?"  (see previous blog re: "Are you ready for it?")

One day. One single day has passed and the amount of plastic which will have exchanged hands across the land would cover 10,357 football pitches.  (I just made that up by the way, but it sounds about right and people always use football pitches or double-decker buses in such 'cor blimey' comparisons of mass and distance)
We even had 'plastic that didn't work' plastic, care of Amazon, otherwise known as 'Ama-too much hassle to send back-zon'. Twenty quids worth of Bop It which is slightly useless cos the sound doesn't work! 

Between the four of us we amassed 87 Christmas cards which, if stood on end, would be as high as four double-deckers.  Actually, I have no idea how high a bus is but the number of cards IS a true statistic, how popular are we!?  Thankful as I am for the well wishes, it's now Boxing Day so I'm chopping them up to make next year's gift tags.....and you thought I wasn't a yummy mummy!  Mind you, Jack Dee's idea of having a shredder attached to behind the letter box also appeals.

I don't want to plagiarise the pros, but did anyone see Michael McIntyre's Christmas show with his hilarious take on 'getting out of the house'; without kids 'v' with kids?  It was superb.  First case scenario, without kids; he simply walks a few steps, opens a pretend door, goes through then closes it behind him.  'With kids' is a hilarious scene of utter chaos with Michael ranting and gesticulating wildly as he mimes the daily scene of bedlam AND mayhem which takes place in his, and most child-rearing households across the land!  Hilarious.
I digress, where was I?
You know, friends have likened the manner in which I recount a tale to that of Ronnie Corbett sat in his Mastermind-style black recliner. I don't know what on earth they mean!?

That's right, I was going to tell my own comedy encounter at the Co-Op on Christmas Eve. Well, me and the little lad had just been to a lovely Christingle and had to leg it to the supermarket to grab some milk.  I begged to be let in as the manager was literally closing the doors.  We hoofed it up the chiller aisle and arrived back at the check-out with lightening speed.  The manager looked at us, sighed and said, 'just excuse me a minute'.  He then slowly leaned towards the tannoy microphone and declared over the airwaves to the deserted aisles: "Can all remaining customers please make their way to the check-out as the store is now closing, thank you".
I looked around me with sit-com-worthy melodrama and then pointed out to the manager that he knew full well there was just me and the little lad left in the building, and we were standing right in front of him!
Like the Jet2 operative (previous blog), I think it may be a while until he sees the funny side.

The serious business of present opening

Merry Christmas to one and all

If one more person asks me, "am I ready for it", I may scream.
It always makes me wonder what exactly I need to be "ready" for; should I boil a kettle and get some fresh towels handy?
As a Christian, I do get a bit 'bah humbug' about the ever-increasing commercialisation and spending insanity which seems to, quite frankly, over-shadow Christmas, especially when it starts in September!
Year round, I just pootle off to Church when I get the chance and do my bit for the PCC and as a Foundation Governor, and it's not something I get on my soap-box about really.

.....EXCEPT when Christmas comes around and everyone starts emptying the supermarket shelves like there's a war on, spending obscene amounts of money on things in a gift box which will be half price next week and.....calling it Xmas!

Mind you, it was lovely to see my son in his first ever nativity, complete with a sweet-smiling Mary, a sobbing Joseph (obviously overcome by the occasion), a nodding donkey (literally, bless him, he fell fast asleep) and baby X in a manger!
My gorgeous little lad was a narrator and I thought my heart was going to beat its way out of my chest as he delivered his pivotal line, 'so there in the stable, before it was dawn, a beautiful baby was wonderfully born'.
One of the proudest moments in my life which I will never forget.  (I did wonder however, whether Mary would have come up with the word 'wonderful' to describe the birthing process, it's not a word that springs to my mind.)

As me and the boys send money to Sheffield Children's Hospital in lieu of buying Christmas cards, (and I don't know where you all live anyway), I just wanted to send my seasons greetings to everyone who is taking the time to read my ramblings and wish you all the very best for 2013.
Thank you for reading....."and there's more" (as Jimmy Cricket would say).

PS. For my footie mad readers, I came out with another cringe-worthy sideline mum howler on Saturday.  Half way through the under 10s match a helicoper flew over so I shouted, 'look lively lads, Sky Sports is here.'  I think eventually my son will beg me not to come to matches.

PPS. I was interested to read on good-old Wikipedia that the jury is out on whether Xmas is blasphemous or actually originates in the Church's history books.  I just think it's not too difficult to go with the extra five letters, is it really?
Merry Christmas one and all. XXX

It's a game of two halves (apparently)

This is nice, I'm writing 'on demand' today.   A reader e.mailed to complain that I hadn't put pen to paper, or fingers to keys, for a week.  So I'm getting 'my finger out' as I was told to!
It's funny, this particular reader, a friend and fellow Sheffield Wednesday supporter (other teams are available; ones that actually score goals apparently), asked if I was going to be blogging about the mighty Owls.
Well, I guess I would if it weren't for a number of reasons (I feel one of my lists coming on)......

• I know absolutely nothing about the game of football (I can hear all you Leeds/Huddersfield/Sheff Utd fans shout in unison....."oh, is that why you support Wednesday?!")
• I just go to games for an afternoon out, a nice pie and a cup of hot chocolate (I'm a cheap date!)
• Really, there are no more reasons, I just don't know anything about football
• As a side-line mum watching the Under 10s, I've been known to shout such helpful technical tips as 'stop bunching boys' and when my son scored a hat-trick in new boots, I shouted, 'well that was £34.99 well spent!'  (he's still not speaking to me, two years later)

Back in the summer of 2005 and working in Portugal as a freelance journalist, I was asked to write a live match report for the UEFA website. It might have been FC Porto versus Deportivo la Coruna, I really don't remember, it was a long time ago and an evening I've frankly tried hard to etch from my memory.

It was an unseasonably chilly night in northern Spain and once I'd battled against the city's bizarre one-way loop system and stadium security with my vague credentials, I was given a press seat with a dodgy internet connection, to file a live report!  It went down hill from there.
The game commenced and, having watched Porto play many times, I thought I knew the players and the game reasonably well.  It turned out, I really did know nothing about football and I struggled to even work out who did what when, let alone write about it simultaneously and competently. 

It's the only time in my career, I'm pleased to report, that my submission to the editing team, was COMPLETELY re-written.  

Do I remember the score?  Not a chance!  The only thing I do remember is that a sprinkler popped up mid-game causing a few minutes of disruption.  For me this was the highlight of the evening as I actually understood what was happening. 

Anyway, needless to say, UEFA didn't come knocking on my door, or my inbox, again. 

So in answer to your question, no, I won't be blogging on SWFC games....unless of course, a sprinkler turns itself on and then it might be worth a few pars.


Here's the proof, me pictured at the la Coruna stadium on that fateful night in 2005 with a trusty pal who knew hell of a lot more about football (and plugging in a laptop) than me!!!
(Thank you D for scanning the prints for me - football AND computers, not my strong points!!)

Nag, nag, nag.....that's what makes them beautiful

I'm awful, aren't I?  I've just re-read my last post and have to admit my poor kids get a right blog bashing.  And you know what, to give them 'due respect', they were impeccably behaved on holiday and during the long flights and I'm so proud of them.  Mind you, I think was more down to the wonderful world of Apple Apps than anything I've done as a parent.
In fact, when the iPod Touches have run out of steam, it's then that the steam starts to come out of my ears.

I stupidly flushed £3.60 down the drain by purchasing Cosmo at the airport en route to our hols.  I finally got to open it on day five and made four attempts to read the opening paragraph of an article on One Direction:

Attempt number one:
"I need a wee."
"Ask your dad to take you."
Attempt number two:
"I want an icecream."
"Not until after your dinner."
Attempt number three:
"Come and push me on the turtle." (inflatable, not real)
"Ask your brother."
Attempt number four:
"I'm drowning, my brother has pushed me off the turtle."
"OK, hang on, I'm coming."

Darn it, now I'll have to wait until my children have left home to find out what Harry, Zayn, Louis, Niall and Liam are looking for in an ideal woman.  While I wait to discover, my initial guess is that their ideal woman's age would begin with a 1 or a 2 (at a push) and not a 4, so I didn't need to read the article anyway!
Yes, I know it's wrong, wrong, wrong and I'm old enough to be their mother.  But what's a girl to do, have you seen the pin-ups from my day these days?  I mean, did you see Limahl on I'm a Celebrity..... and his strategic, yet ultimately futile, attempts to disguise the onslaught of male pattern baldness?

Happy days

Of course, I always give in and push them around on the giant turtle.  Sadly however, the turtle is no more, having been part of our family holiday for many years, hauled along in its own 20kg suitcase.  I'm sorry to announce it was mercilessly slaughtered (well burst) by a three-year-old child.  What was it you taught me mum, 'never a lender or a borrower be'?  I kept telling the child to 'step away from the turtle' but he didn't seem to be listening to me (or his father) and dragged the poor defenseless creature around on the side of the pool until he sadly breathed his last breath, from a large gash in his leg joint.

"Muuuuuuum, a little boy has broken our turtle, can we go buy a new one?"
"NO, there's no spending money left and I have a suspicious feeling the boiler may need mending when we get home."

But, you know, it's funny isn't it?  Even though our kids don't give us a second's peace, we can't imagine life without them; not even for a split second.

See you around..... for the next million years

So, the boiler is mended and we're telling the kids that Santa is implementing austerity measures to offset fuel price hikes (it wasn't a good harvest due to the wet summer......think about it.....)
But speaking of the kids, it's been great to spend quality time with them on the windy isle (it turns out) of Lanzarote. Well, when I say 'quality'.....
It's like the old cannabalistic adage goes, 'I love kids, but I couldn't eat a whole one'.  I DO love my kids, but 24/7 and I suddenly appreciated even more the value of that excellent child-care provider; 'school'.
With a chilly breeze blowing in rain-cloud after rain-cloud, there was quite a lot of 'entertaining' to be done.  The only time we sat down was when Karate Kid came on in English!  (Disney in Spanish had started to grate on the old eardrums so the TV didn't provide much distraction.)
Also as it was term-time, the Jet2-delivered raft of fellow ee-by-gum, Geordie and Brummy-accented holiday-makers included very few school-age youngsters to entertain our boys.
So with yet another downpour we headed to the Lanzarote Aquarium.  At €40 for four it wasn't cheap but killed an hour and turned out to be quite educational.
The tanks were full of colourful and interesting species of ocean life and some shark eggs with the soon-to-be-hatched babies squirming around inside them was a highlight.
But the display which brought a tear to my eye and I hope reinforced the lesson I'm always banging into the kids featured a very different species; human filth.  A display of a commonly-spotted sea dwellers such as plastic bags, coke cans and wine bottles, made us all stop and think.  It explained how many years it takes for each piece of trash to decompose, ranging from 30 years for a carrier bag to millions of years, or probably never, for a glass bottle.
It's not rocket science is it?  The more crap we fail to recycle in the correct manner and the more we consume, the fuller our land, and our seas, will be with dangerous waste.
That same day for lunch I discovered some cheese slices were contained in a thick plastic package with a thinner plastic layer within.  Once through these two layers, I found each wafer thin slice of shiny cheese was wrapped in yet another plastic pouch.
I shudder for my children's (and their children's) futures as we become a plastic-wrapped world seemingly without the brains to either abandon the need for triple-plastic packed cheese or without the systems or the will to educate/force consumers to recycle effectively or suffer the consequences.

The boys at the Lanzarote Aquarium

Baby sharks about to hatch

Great weather......for wind surfers!

To end on a lighter note '6 o'clock news'-style, and to neatly link to another packaging bug-bear, namely those stupid tiny milk cartons with a dribble of milk.  The wind was so bad on our departure the plane could either take off with half a tank of fuel or hit a volcano.  So the pilot opted, on our behalf, for the first option and we dropped into the Algarve to refuel.  Whilst on the tarmac at Faro, an air steward left the plane and returned with a box of mini milk cartons.  As he passed, I questioned whether we had just stopped to re-stock the milk supplies!?  To which  he replied, "no madam, we needed fuel!" and walked off leaving me red-faced at my failed attempt at comedy.  He later returned and said: "I'm so sorry, I get your joke now!"  But I think the moment had passed.