No spikes for Spike

Out for a walk the other day, the three of us (two humans and a doggie) were walking past an ornamental garden area. Form the corner of my eye, I spotted some large flowers and did a double-take.

"My my," I thought, "that's a rather large thistle."
Of course it came out a little differently, leading Julie to make a certain observation.

It's Twofer Monday!

A lot of our Gems come from when we are driving. I'll be concentrating on the road and the pillocks on it, and Julie will normally start drifting off to sleep, passing through a rich vein of Gems on the way.

On Sunday, we took Roxy back to the rescue centre, where she met up with one lady who had formed a deep attachment to her - and it was mutual. Both Roxy and this volunteer were over the moon to see each other.... but I'm getting way off track.

Years ago, I used to work at a dairy that was some distance from home. Despite this, there were a number of colleagues that lived in the same town as us - or pretty much on the way. This meant that there could be a bit of fuel saved if we shared a shift and a car for the journey. One of my colleagues had a fun little habit. Instead of wolf-whistling or shouting some crude epithet in appreciation of a comely young lady, he would shout 'sausage!' This wouldn't be aimed directly at the young lady, but just exclaimed in general, almost as an observation.

It's not hugely subtle, I admit, but since I picked up the habit - and then passed it on to Julie, it's become a lot less subtle. Shouting it out about a man? Wow...

The first time Julie did it, we were driving past a cyclist. I'm not sure who was more surprised, me or the cyclist. I know we both wobbled as we tried to keep on the road. Apparently, Julie had forgotten her window was open..

Sorry - I'm veering off track again - it's those sausages... er... yeah...

Um, where was ...ah, yes.

Anyway. Out for a drive to the rescue centre, and to the side of one road were the remains of an animal. A mammal of some sort - that's all we could tell.
Mind you, Julie reckoned it had a doppelganger.

This last was aimed at a cyclist we were passing. As I tried to contain my laughter, I looked my mirror and found that the lycra-clad bloke was doing the same thing...

For reference - some people may not have seen Ice Age (why not?). Scrat is a sabre-toothed squirrel with a fondness for acorns and a case of bad luck big enough to hold the world.

Acorn just out of shot...

Meanwhile, Sid the Sloth is an intentionally pathetic character who nonetheless has a decent side. Useless at pretty much everything, Sid only ever achieves anything by accident, and sleep usually only arrived at after some awkward shifting around on a bed of rock (and it's possibly that was meant to be a geological pun).

I have to admit tossing and turning a lot like this...

A lengthy problem

This one is old. And I mean 'before I met Julie' old.

I used to work in a warehouse that stocked and supplied electronic components. It was a pretty big warehouse, and at the time this took place, I was a shift team leader in the goods in department.

As anyone who has ordered multiple items at a single time knows, what you ordered isn't necessarily what you receive. One supplier even threatened to take us to court because we were refusing to pay for items we hadn't received - but they were adamant they had shipped. And then they found said items in a dark corner of their own warehouse. And two suppliers seemed to think it would be a jolly good wheeze to throw a load of components into a box with polystyrene chips (a fantastic idea, courtesy of static electricity), and then leave us to guess what each item may be.

It didn't help that the term MICROelectronics was often a very salient term to describe the parts. While some items had the device code printed on them somewhere, others were too small to fit the entire code, no matter how small the print.

As team leader, it fell to me to contact the sales department in question and ask them to iron out any problems. Cue this conversation (and yes, Mary was Irish)...

All around me, people were either laughing or demanding to know what the laughter was about. All I could think of was that I had just well and truly scuppered my chances of asking Mary out...

B&Q boo-boo

Well, we've had a pleasant weekend - how about you?

On Saturday, me and Julie went to a place called Michelham Priory. It's a wonderful place, full of history, and is reputed to be the most haunted place in Sussex - should you believe in the supernatural. There is plenty to see & do at any time, but they also host a lot of special events - such as the Medieval weekend which we enjoyed. Wonderfully, the entry price is reasonable and isn't jacked up when a special event takes place. Visit the Sussex Past page to see more.

In keeping with the desire to show living history, the priory grounds also has a working forge, worked and maintained by a skilled blacksmith.

I have to admit, I loved the bellows.

When we arrived, the smith was fashioning a number of hooks for one of the event participants. The lady in question was hanging around, completely at ease in her heavy gown. As we watched, I felt myself almost lulled by the rhythmic tempo of the smith's hammer strikes. In addition, the sound changed, according to which part of the steel he was hitting, and where upon the anvil he had placed it.

After about five minutes, this competent worker had nonchalantly turned out a strong and serviceable hook.

The hook is made to rest over a wooden beam.

Unfortunately, just as the crowd were admiring the smith's handiwork, Julie decided to pipe up...

Time to move on, methinks...

I say thee neigh!

A Thelwell pony, looking alarmed. Why? Read on.

On a recent visit to my mum, she, myself and Julie were sat around the table, enjoying a game of Scrabble. Julie noticed that I hadn't got my notepad with me and was quite pleased when I remarked in a jocular manner that I was giving her the night off.

Silly me.

Honestly, it must have been the most Gem-packed time I have ever known.

One of the hallmarks of our family Scrabble games is a penchent for - accidentally - going in a place that blocks the next player on. Mum is particularly vocal when it happens to her, and this occasion was no exception. I have no idea what I put down, but I was immediately labelled as a 'ratbag' and it was commented, with a very loud 'tut', that you "just can't choose your family, can you?"

Hot on the heels of this well-worn saying, Julie piped up, mixing metaphors and the gods know what else...

Well, you probably could, but that's not to say that you should.

-----------------------------------------------------------

In case you weren't aware of his work, the equine at the top was sketched by a very well-known English cartoonist by the name of Thelwell. He was most famous for his cartoons of rotund ponies and little girls, which, when I say it like that, sounds like he should have been arrested...

Instead, I invite you to go look at the website and perhaps to google him.

The Wedding banned

It's been about six and a half years since we were married. It was a lovely day, which was pleasant, considering the weekends either side of the one we booked were absolutely vile. Mind you there was one vile thing about our wedding day - my head. As the morning went on, my head grew progressively worse until I found myself trying to cope with a near-migraine level headache.

Toffed up, me and my best man got a taxi to the hotel where we got married, and began the process of meeting and greeting various friends and relatives. It was the first time I had met many of the younger ones, and I was pleased to note that they were a fairly well-behaved bunch. I'm not much for children at the best of times and I definitely didn't want any excitable kiddies that day.

Our home-made table centrepiece. Hedgehog, of course!

Apart from our tying the knot, we both agreed that the highlight of the ceremony was when my foster brother, who is severely disabled, acted up at precisely the point I had predicted.

Before the wedding, we had to drop by the registrar's office to discuss things. I was adamant that I wanted Jim to be there, so I was making sure that there would be no objections on the part of the officials. However, I did warn them that Jim has a broad sense of humour and, while unable to speak, he uses his laughs to communicate some things very well. And, being mischievous, he responded well to the question, "is there anyone who objects to these two being married.?"

Cue the snigger.

The registrar hadn't quite believed me when I warned her, so this snigger came as something of a surprise; I knew from our first meeting that, while efficient, she was also officious and patronising.

There was another incident concerning the registrar.
When we moved to discussing some of the finer details of our ceremony, the matter of restrictions was raised. Now, I had heard something about this. If you were to be married in a non-ecclesiastic manner, then the music played should have no religious references. This ban included Robbie Williams' hit 'Angels'.

I objected to this. Not so much for the banning of a Robbie tune (which I rather like, actually), but that there were restrictions being placed on our special day - one we were paying for. Nevertheless, argued the registrar, angels are a religious construct and therefore cannot be played at a civil ceremony.

Ridiculous.

The registrar went further; we were not allowed to choose any music that was inappropriate for such an occasion, and we would have to submit which songs/tunes we had in mind. Julie was also unimpressed.

I burst out laughing, but the registrar was none too happy, and gathered up her papers, saying, "well, I think that's all we need to discuss for today," before bidding us 'Good day' and leaving.

In the end, this was the music we chose for the ceremony. Approved, of course.

• Bride's entrance: 'Horizons' by Genesis
• Signing the documents: 'The Rose' by Bette Midler
• The couple leaves: 'Handbags & Gladrags' by Stereophonics (it's Our Song)

------------------------------------------

PS - apparently, the ban on ecclesiastical references in songs has since been lifted.

Well, what a get-up!

Julie was talking to one of her colleagues the other day. It was a pretty muggy and nothing was going right. This colleague said to Julie the following classic line; "My get up and go has got up and gone." My wife was duly sympathetic, but of course had to go that extra yard or three...

Obviously, the various parts of Julie's psyche have rather full lives themselves. Oh, and talking of which, this reminds me of something Julie has a little trouble with. It's just a little verbal slip, that's all, but she does find it hard to get the correct pronunciation for some words, despite many attempts to correct it. One good example is 'gesundheit'. For some reason, this keeps coming out as 'Good and tight', which is incongruous for the circumstances, to say the least.
However, it's when referring to her own... unique psyche that we have most fun. Especially when she refers to an alternative personality as an 'alto ego'. Not bad; if she lines her personalities up just right, she could sing Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with harmonies, all by herself.

Ah well, that's us for this week - see you next week and don't forget to put your name in for the free prize draw! After all - the closing date is tomorrow evening!

Compatibility screening is going too far

Humans are odd folks. Thousands of years of evolution - physical and social - and we end up with people who can talk for ages without saying anything worth mentioning (shooting for a little irony there). Quite often, this will usually take place via a telephone call - especially when you've run out of real news to impart to a relative and you then spend the next quarter of an hour saying 'goodbye'.

It also happens a lot when you bump into someone you know and go through the standard phrases, such as "Oh my god, how long has it been?" and "Alright mate - how's it going?"* Me and my colleagues are guilty of taking this to a highly ridiculous degree - I work in a warehouse and we are, quite understandably, often seeing each other throughout the day. The thing is, we'll often treat each encounter like we haven't met for some time. With one workmate, I ask him "Hello there - did you have a nice weekend?" regardless of what day of the week it is.

Yes, I'm nuts.

There's one commonly-used meeting phrase I have yet to mention - for good reason. Julie and myself often engage in the 'just-met' banter when we're out and about. This time, we were in a shop, queuing to pay and then Julie initiated this exchange....

Bear in mind we were in the middle of a shop queue at this point. I'll admit to having been completely flummoxed by Julie's comeback, although I'm not sure what got me more; what she meant to say or what she actually said...

**EDIT**
Sorry about this folks, I forgot that not everyone may know the acronyms VD or VDU
VD clinic = somewhere that treats people suffering from venereal diseases.
VDU = Visual Display Unit (ie a computer monitor)

*As Terry Pratchett once noted, all these empty phrases mean are "Hello, I'm alive and so are you"

Trivial Pursuit Week (2 of 3); Swinging wars and sexy statues

Welcome back to Julie's Gems' Trivial Pursuit week. Don't forget, in addition to the normal post here, there will be a special bonus Gem only for followers of Julie's Gems over at Facebook.

Down to business, and straight in with our first one.

Have you noticed that there are a lot of times where Julie seems to be going fine and Gem-free - but then has to go one step further. I've actually found myself literally waiting for the Gemline, and if it doesn't turn up, I feel vaguely cheated.

Our next Gem doesn't follow this pattern, but falls right across the WTF/facepalm divide.

I mean come on - who can fail to be cranially fused by that one? The reason for this was that Julie had absolutely no idea what the real answer was and decided to come up with her own, far more entertaining one. Wouldn't it be funny if the Frenchmen who'd originally made Lady Liberty as a gift to the Americans had said to each other, 

"Hey, Pascal; how high up in the air did you say this was going to end up?" 

"Some hundred feet, Jean. Why?" 

"I was just wondering who the hell was going to read what was on here. What I mean is that I could hammer in some random letters - or maybe the Karma Sutra... hehe..."

"Heh. Jean, you're insane, but if you want to do it, then go ahead. Just don't let me see what you do, right?"

"Oui, Pascal, I shall keep it hidden from them. And from you."

Hmm - I supposed it's just a small mercy Jean never had a copy of the Necromicon...

ON FRIDAY

Bodily orifices and a dual nationality playwright.