Crossing the eyes and dotting the tease

Julie needs to wear glasses - so do I, come to that, but Julie needs to wear glasses all the time. Apart from when she sleeps or is bathing. That'd be silly.

In a sense, Julie has been lucky with getting her glasses made up, as technology has managed to stay barely a step of her needs. Almost each time she gets her eyes tested, Julie is told that she may have to have corrective surgery 'next time'. Fortunately, 'next time' appears to be taking a cue from Tomorrow in this instance, since 'next time' never really manages to reappear.

You see, to get the right level of sight correction, Julie's glasses have been getting thicker and thicker.

No, she does NOT look like that.

Obviously, there is only so far you can thicken lenses, and the threat has always been to have the surgery, but technological advances mean that the opticians can get a decent lens from a thinner piece of material.

Without the glasses, one eye does have a tendency to pull to one side, but it's nothing major - certainly not Marty Feldman territory. Or, as Julie puts it,

...it's true, I suppose...

Smart Parts

Until my father's car was passed along to me, Julie and me had had an extended period of not having our own transport. That may not be too much of a problem, but as anyone who had HAD a car, bike or whatever before losing it will know, you find yourself frustrated and a little lost once that car has gone. All those places that were previously accessible suddenly become distant and unattainable. It doesn't help that I'm not much of a public transport kind of person.

Naturally, you fantasise about having a car again.

By this point, Smart Cars had been around for a while, but I still liked the idea and the look of them. Being able to get into tiny parking spots was a bonus. Cheaper, more economical and allegedly more eco-friendly (although doubts have since arisen, which I do not fully understand), the only downside of them for me was the lack of storage space. Okay, for a single person, it wouldn't be too much of a problem, but for a couple with luggage, space is going to be a very pertinent issue.

You might think I'm being a little oversensitive about this, but after a fly-drive holiday to Ireland with a friend where the agent supplied us with a Toyota Yaris, I take it seriously. I kid you not. That Yaris had a boot (trunk) that had space for only one suitcase stood on edge and perhaps a small bag to one side. Perhaps. There were other issues I had with the Yaris, but the storage was the main one.

Let's get back on track.

Naturally, this little fantasy of mobility was a shared one, even if the specific details varied a little between us...

This took place some years ago, and I still don't know what Julie meant by that. Nor does she, so at least I have company in confusion.

Mind you, this paint job might qualify.

Easy, rider.

Now, THAT'S what I call a compromise...

Vaguely vegetarian

Sausages, bangers, whatever you want to call them, they're a popular dish wherever you go. Being something of a purist, I tend to shy away from the cheap supermarket ... things. If you look at the ingredients, there may be so much cereal filler in there that you might as well call it a loaf.

However, if you are talking about vegetarian sausages, that is a different thing. While I enjoy meat, I admit that you can find a decent veggie banger.

Er... no. not that one

THAT'S more like it.

We were discussing the merits of vegetarian sausages a while back, and Julie had this to offer on their origin.

Whu...?
It took me a while, but then I realised that Julie was under the impression that these were sausages made from vegetarian animals...

Sad song gone wrong

Roxy, bless her, is part staffie, part American bulldog. This means that she has a double dose of those genes that give a dog a mournful demeanour.

Not Roxy, still looking woebegone. But probably not at all sad.

This even happens when Roxy is happy, excited and various other emotional states that are not in fact 'sad'. Case in point: one day, not long after Julie had come home from work, Roxy was sat in her downstairs bed, recovering from her mad five minutes of greeting her 'mum'. We were sat in our own chairs, watching our dog, who was looking at us with pretty much the exact same expression as that above.

For some reason, Julie felt moved to sing a paraphrased version of a classic tune.

I didn't know if Julie meant the dog made the pies, or that the pies were made of dog. And you know what, I didn't really feel like finding out...

BLASPHEMY!

Oh dear. This is going to be the post where we either lose lots of our audience or get a load more. Or both, which would be hilarious.

Well, you see, it all began with an innocuous conversation about one of Roxy's toys, a ball-and-rope combo that has proved to be very popular and highly entertaining for all three of us. Don't ask. It's a pull toy such as those pictured below (although Roxy's toy has two balls on it. Stop sniggering!).

Roxy gets the ball in her mouth - will you stop sniggering! - and we pull on the other end...

>sigh<

There's not going to be an easy way through this post, is there?

In any event, the talk turned to 'pope-on-a-rope', punny take on the original product.

'SOAP' on a rope. Literally.

Pope on a rope. NOT literally.

This is where things get a little sticky. Conversations with Julie tend to be a fairly silly and free-associating experience. We also tend to try a sort of one-upmanship in the game of silliness. Obviously, Julie normally wins.

BOOM! Julie knocks it out of the park!

Wow... I honestly couldn't stop laughing for five minutes. So very wrong, but so very funny.

And, as it turns out, not at all incorrect...

Hide the line

A staple of long journeys with any family, even if you don't have any of the books (or any recollection of them either). I spy is a simple game, although frustration can often occur if the 'spied' is obscure, silly, or - in some games I have known - fictitious. It can also serve as a joke. Stuck in a dark room when there is a power cut? "I spy, something with my little eye, something beginning with 'D'." "Dark?" "Yes. Well done."

Driving up to my mother's home is a fairly long journey, involving lots of motorways, some parts of which may even be free of road works or traffic jams.
Yeah, right.

Normally, our distraction of choice is the alphabet game, but even a favourite can become stale over time, so we switch to other games, such as I-spy.

One time, it was my turn. I chose something that I believed to be fairly simple. Of course experience tells you that nobody gets the obvious ones. No wonder people get a bit antsy with the odd ones. I had gone for something beginning with the letter 'P', and since we were moving nicely on a relatively clear stretch of motorway, the lane markings were clearly visible.

Many guesses later...

How do you camouflage white lines on a dark road?
Probably like this...

The inscrutable and the implausible.

Roxy is a cuddlesome doggie. After three years in a last chance rescue centre, I think anyone would feel a little insecure. One of the things that she enjoys most is having her belly rubbed. Of course, for a female dog, this means contact with the nipples (as has been previously documented). Normally, this is how Roxy shows she is after a belly rub...

In less energetic moments, Roxy likes to lean in for a cuddle while sat upright. Once you begin to stroke her, Roxy will then lean a little more, so you can then reach her belly. Cuddle AND a belly rub? That's a happy dog right there. This isn't a belly rub shot, but it shows the quietly happy pose Roxy can strike. The warm sun probably had something to do with it.

As Julie rightly pointed out, Roxy can look positively noble - even regal - when she is serenely happy. In fact, Roxy apparently looked so regal on one occasion she was receiving a cuddle/rub, that Julie was moved to draw a comparison to our own, dear monarch.

You'd think, after all this time, I would be more careful about having a mouthful of tea when Julie says things like this... Mind you, I don't imagine the Queen was too overjoyed either.

Surprise mutt-sex

Hmm. Out of all the trends we have seen on Julie's Gems, the one that appears to be forming at the moment is the most worrying. Not even the Platyposts concern me as much.

There is a meme going by the tagline of 'surprise buttsex'. It takes advantage (ahem) of previously innocuous photographs and then adds the caption of 'Surprise Buttsex'. Google it if you want, but be prepared for what you see. In the meantime, here's a prime example.

And now for the most awkward segue ever; let's talk about Roxy...

Being part Staffie, Roxy isn't the slightest of creatures, gorgeous as she is. She also fits in with the family very well, in that she has a stubborn streak wider than the mouth of the Amazon river. Combine that with your average doorway, and simple access to a room is suddenly a lot more difficult. Especially since neither me nor Julie are even remotely slim.

If I am cooking, Roxy likes to 'supervise' from the comfort of the kitchen doorway. Having spent so long in a rescue centre pen, she isn't too fond of uncarpeted surfaces. I can understand that. Unfortunately, she refuses to move from there until the last tiny chance of a dropped morsel has gone. Which tends to make it a problem for Julie when she decides to come and make herself a drink.

There are so many things wrong with that I have no idea where to begin... so I'll leave you with a final meme...

I thought our food bill was a tad large...

I was making us a cup of tea each the other day when I became aware that the fridge was making some impressive growling noises. It's not a patch on my mother's; we have often been confused  into thinking there is someone talking - or needs to find a toilet very, very soon. If not sooner.

It's obviously the cooling system at the back grumbling away, but I hope it doesn't mean trouble ahead.

Milk returned to the fridge, I took the teas into the lounge and passed Julie hers. Roxy glanced up and sighed, happy that we were all in the same room. I sat down and warmed my hands on the mug and then mentioned the noisy fridge.

Needless to say, Julie had an interesting theory...

It's an unsettling thought at best, and one I hesitated to google, in case I found some equally unsettling images. Fortunately, no Kyle Rayner-related nastiness emerged, but this was funny to me...

Long and wrong

The weather in the southern parts of Britain have not been what you could call clement lately. In fact, to paraphrase Robin Williams' character in Good Morning Vietnam, it has been (and apparently will be for at least a couple of weeks more) "wet and pissy with outbreaks of increasingly windy, wet and pissy."

(Real quote:
[imitating Walter Cronkite]
Adrian Cronauer: I just want to begin by saying to Roosevelt E. Roosevelt, what it is, what it shall be, what it was. The weather out there today is hot and shitty with continued hot and shitty in the afternoon. Tomorrow a chance of continued crappy with a pissy weather front coming down from the north. Basically, it's hotter than a snake's ass in a wagon rut.)

If you haven't seen that film, do so.

Back in Eastbourne, the weather continues to be windy enough to go straight through you, rather than bothering to go around. And, because it's that time of year in the northern hemisphere,* it's a tad on the chilly side. That means that driving is a little cool on the hands - until the heating warms up enough that the steering wheel doesn't try and give you frostbite.

Yes, I have gloves. Yes, I have been wearing them. After a while, when things are a bit warmer, I take the gloves off and, if Julie is with me, pass them to her to look after while I do the driving.

Last night, we realised shopping was necessary - never mind us, the dog food was running low. Since Roxy enjoys going for a ride in the car, we took her with us and took the long way to Tesco. Eventually, the inside of the car reached a temperature that my fingers considered to be comfortable, so I doffed the gloves and gave them to Julie.

I may have been concentrating on driving, but I was vaguely aware that Julie was fiddling with my gloves; I never gave it much thought, to be honest.

After a moment of silence, just as I was about to drive us onto a junction, Julie announced this...

NOT what you want to hear as you attempt to negotiate a busy junction. I do have to admit, though, that I was most impressed with the way Julie managed to begin with a basic malapropism and then stutter her way into a snippet from Gilbert and Sullivan...

Again, many thanks to the internet, where almost any image you search for is but a few clicks away. Googling 'tentacles and testicles' yielded this beauty.

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* by the way, please spare a thought for people in the southern hemisphere. While Britain is being blown about and drowned, and the US and Canada are having ridiculously low temperatures, places like Australia are suffering with forest fires and the like. And when they have fires, they don't muck about. Be safe, my antipodean friends.

Heard of sleeping

It's time for a guest spot; Sam is a frequent visitor to this blog, although this is the first time she has been mentioned by name. One of Sharron's daughters, she seems to delight in coming up with the most innocent, knowing - and way-out-there - phrases. Today, it seemed, there was a conversation going on, although it was fairly one sided. Never mind that neither Sam nor her mother could strictly be classed as being present at the time...

This might actually ring a bell or two with various members of my family, as I am well known for being able to hold a conversation with someone while I am asleep. As is my sister. Yes, we managed to have a conversation with both of us being asleep, apparently. It was enough to turn a mother to drink...

Half dog, half monotreme.

You may have noticed that Julie is somewhat of a whimsical frame of mind. You will be very pleased to know that this has not changed a jot since Roxy entered our lives.

A crossbreed of Staffie and bulldog makes for a very solid dog, and there is no denying that when Roxy opens a door, it tends to stay open. Similarly, when she decides to cuddle up to you, you will definitely know about it - and hopefully be very glad you were already sitting down.

However, Julie is one for pet names, and when combined with her leftfield sense of humour, it can prove to be a tad confusing. For me, if not the dog - especially when Julie appears to be rummaging around in the back pocket of Roxy's genes...

Three things: No, of course Roxy didn't answer to it. And you know what, the first thing that came to mind was a paraphrasing of Monty Python's classic 'Brian' scene, "She has a fwiend, you know... Incontintentia Buttox."*

The third thing was a corker. I always try and illustrate a Gem if I can, but when I typed in 'dog platypus hybrid', I have to admit I wasn't expecting anything.
Silly me.
First bloody result from Google image search was this beauty.

Image is the sole copyright of Evelar.

Evelar is a digital artist on deviantArt. If you click on THIS LINK, you can see the picture in all its glory. Please do visit the page, and browse the amazing art therein.

Of course, there was no way I was going to miss a chance to share a classic bit of comedy with you...

*In true Monty Python fashion, there were four things that occurred to me - the other one, of course, being that this was going to be yet another platypost...

A time for family get-togethers.

Last Saturday, we wanted to get out of the house, despite the poor weather. Going into town during the lead-up to Christmas was out, and the weather was bad enough that we didn't fancy going for a walk. In the end, we opted to visit a local garden centre, one we knew had a half decent cafe.

When we got there, we found that their soup of the day was a creamy tomato and red pepper. Yes please!

There was a large queue for the cafe, so I was sent to grab a table while Julie waited in line. On the next table along, there was a group of people in their fifties or sixties. One had obviously been waiting for the mobile technological revolution, as his ear was permanently glued to an iPhone. I wasn't paying much attention to him, but you couldn't help but hear the occasional phrase drift over. By and large, it was the usual "I'm alive and so are you, isn't the weather awful?", with a random mention of the festive season here and there.

And then one very worrying snippet made itself very clear.

This arrived in my ears just as Julie arrived with our food & tea. Judging by her reaction to my face though, I don't think she had managed to catch it herself. Ye gods...

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As you may or may not know, our format of Monday/Wednesday/Friday means that there is a slight clash in scheduling for the next Gem. However, you never know...

The Tea Room Trilogy, part 1: The short arm of the wotnot

I love it when a single day out results in a plethora of Gems. Even better - and rarer - is when I can cull a week's worth of Gems from about an hour's time in a tea room.

Visit http://www.duddleswelltearooms.co.uk/ for more information.

Duddleswell Tea Rooms are in Ashdown Forest, Kent (UK). You need to be concentrating on your surroundings though, as it is the epitome of 'blink and you'll miss it'. We were lucky; today was their last day of opening before closing for the winter period. It's a very friendly place, and the food is home cooked and locally sourced. They don't do soy milk, though, so you will need to take your own. The tea rooms are very pet-friendly, and will bring out a saucer with a couple of doggy treats should you decide to stop for a cuppa while out on 'walkies'.

We decided to stop for a drink on our way to Last Chance Animal Rescue to discuss fostering a dog. It was relatively quiet; the staff nearly outnumbered the customers. After sitting at a table by the window, we ordered our drinks - gunpowder green tea for me, as I forgot the 'no-soy' thing.

Chatting away, I became aware that Julie was having a problem with the table. She was trying to lean her elbows on the top so she could have her cup held by her mouth. Unfortunately, every time Julie moved slightly, one elbow or the other would slip off the edge of the circular table.

Uh. If you insist, love.

If you are in the area and fancy dropping in for a drink and a bit of cake (after they reopen), you can search for it on Google maps. Here's a little bit of map for you to get started...

Oral, not aural.

Let's be honest, we've all done it. We have all said something and then immediately wondered why you did. Sometimes, it slipped out and you aren't even aware you spoke until you realise people are staring at you. Sometimes, you are caught up in the moment and an incautious phrase escapes before the mental filters can stop it.

And then there is Julie. Shameless to the end, all manner of things are said at the drop of a hat, with not a regret. Brilliantly, many Gems arise as a direct result of my wife attempting to justify herself or defend something she has just said.

For example...

Indeed.

Whynot wotnot?

I try to get them all, I really do. Unfortunately, there are some times when circumstances prevent me from doing so. Most often, this is when I am driving, for obvious reasons. Even then, I can sometimes somehow persuade Julie to scribble down a hasty note.

Similarly, we will be in public situations where my whipping out a notepad would be either inadvisable, impolite or downright impossible.* Such situations include; at the counter in a bank, drenched in a downpour, in the front row of a stand-up comedy show... you get the idea.

However, the most common cause for my failure to document each and every Gem is this; when Julie is in full-on Gem Mode (and yes, it does deserve the capitalisation), I can't even mentally process what is being said, let alone jot anything down.**

On more than one occasion, I have been brain-crashed by a Gem and my speech centres have similarly been affected. When that happens, all I can do is splutter out a disbelieving, "...WHAT?"

It seems I respond in such a manner quite frequently. Frequently enough for Julie to Gem right back at me.

...of course it is, silly me.
I think I'll go and have a lie down...



* Is it me, or am I writing very alliteratively today?
** Now, imagine how I feel when I'm driving around an unfamiliar town centre, trying to cope with Julie in Gem Mode...

Fleeced of thought

Fancy a quickie? Here you are, then.

Every now and then, Julie will wonder out loud something that she knows to be silly, but the necessary filters will not be in place. On  this occasion, we were in the car and passing a field of sheep. At that point in time, a fine drizzle was just beginning, although the clouds were promising rather a lot more.

My reply, as such it was, was a stunned silence.

In the meantime, I shall leave you with a picture of that lovable ovine, Shaun the Sheep.

Think pink!

We bade a fond farewell to our friend on Saturday. After a fun week packed with meeting people, going places - and far too much food - she sadly had to return to Greece.

After breakfast, we piled into the car and set off up to Heathrow airport. Remembering the pig's ear that was the previous week's journey, we made damn sure we left plenty of time to get there. Just as well, because the M25 once again slowed to a crawl; rather than being way too early, we were pretty much bang on time. But that's by the by.

On the way up, I was concentrating on driving - although we did have some music going, a rather eclectic mix disc of mp3s I had thrown together. Between the two, I missed the occasional detail - especially if they were in a blind spot on the other side of the car. So when Julie came out with this particular Gem, to say I was speechless is something of an understatement.

Wait, what?
Our friend was too busy laughing to be of much help, and Julie was pointing in the direction of one of those blind spots. Eventually, I managed to reason she had been referring to an ornament on the top of another car's radio antenna.

Cute, eh?
Except it's not pink. It took me a little searching, but I eventually worked out that the ornament in question was in the style of Piglet from the Disney version of Winnie the Pooh.

You have no idea how relieved I am to know what it was...

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.

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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.

Sing something scary

Pretty much everyone likes to sing to themselves at some point. It may be in the privacy of the shower or car, or in the street, furtively looking to make sure nobody else can hear you. On the other hand, you might be bold enough to belt it out loud - possibly following a few alcoholic drinks...

Alternatively, you may be singing without quite realising it. A tune has got into your head and won't leave until you've sung the same few lines over and over. Much to the annoyance, most likely, of those around you.

I tend to fall into this category, I have to admit. Often, I'll start a tune and then tail off, having been distracted by something else - otherwise, I'd have gone through the whole song, knowing the full lyrics. 

Julie is also a subconscious singer, and it's usually highly entertaining, because knowledge of actual lyrics isn't necessarily essential; especially since it's all rather stream of consciousness stuff.

Normally, this isn't too distressing, as Julie will have just thought of something that reminded her of the words from a particular song, and she will simply riff off that. However, once in a while, Julie just begins singing. No external input, nothing on her mind - and no restraint...

Wait, so that's two possible songs, two bands, a traditional location for sing-songs and a WTF. 

Now that's a nasty mash-up.

Let's have ourselves an alternative mash-up of the odd persuasion...