GrannyRant

Good morning, Granny calling……I am having one of those days, you know, the sort of day that starts out wrong. When you try to put the lid of the teapot on the kettle by mistake (and it falls in) and squirt hairspray under you arms instead of anti-perspirant. I loaded the washing machine put the powder in the wrong hole…you know what I mean, it’s not looking good…

It started when the first piece of toast jumped out of the toaster, white but dry, not even golden, more like stale bread than toast. I tried to butter it, tripped over the cat and yes..You guessed it the toast landed butter side down, with me swearing and the cat squawking because I had stepped on her toes. Valerie, my cat, was not having a good morning either. Having said that, she had slept well, on the corner of my bed, meaning that I had to sleep diagonally across the bed, which is probably why I’m now knackered and stroppy!

By the time I got the toast, I was running late, I had to drop my significant other off to the garage to drop his car off for servicing and then take him on to his workplace, which is 10 miles out of my way, so already I was all behind like a cows tail, the day is going downhill at a rate of knots!

At work, I parked my car in its usual spot, jumped out quickly in a shower, got my bag caught in the seatbelt and the contents proceeded to roll down the car park, lipstick, pens, plums and assorted furry sweets that have been lost in the bottom of my bag for eons. As I scrambled to pick them up, a very hospitable magpie deposited the remains of his breakfast all over the roof of my little car and half way down the windscreen. This was not just any old birdsh*t, this was Magpie Birdsh*t and boy was it ever sticky! OMG where will it end and it’s only ten past eight! I got some screenies and tried to wipe it off but it was like gravy browning, the more I rubbed the further it spread. I decided to let the rain do the job for me.

The rain, that’s another thing. My hair is now stuck to my head, the mousse that I applied when I washed it last night has turned to slime and I already know that when it dries, it will be rock hard and my hair will look like one of those plastic Elvis Heads you see at the seaside.

It is now 10.23am and I am having a tea break, but already I have jammed the photocopier, stapled my finger, stubbed my toe and broken my favourite mug…oh and I can’t remember if I switched the washing machine on, so the laundry is probably vegetating in the machine doing nothing….happy days!

Granny

Good evening, Granny Calling…..Day 16 is the first day of our road trip. Robyn and Adam have been planning where they would take us for months. They are two of the best, a great couple who have kindly given up their holiday time to drive us to some special destinations and we only found out a few days before we left the UK that we would be going into the USA for a couple of nights. How exciting, and how lucky are we to have such special people looking after us.

Due to us losing all our stuff on the raft escapade, we have to sort a few things out before we leave. Robyn said “There is no way I am going on a road trip without a cell phone”, I have to agree, sometimes you are driving for over an hour here without seeing a house, farm, or Service station. Adam’s phone was also water damaged so he was going to get a Blackberry which he has wanted for some time. I think falling in the river did him a favour as his old phone was a bit of a Dinosaur!

I was up a 6am as I had to call the UK to report my phone missing, my debit cards and find out how to sort out money, I lost all my money and my cards to the Bow River. 6am here is 1pm UK, so that seemed to be a good time to ring as I didn’t get held up on hold as you usually do. They said I could get an emergency money fund but it would cost. I decided to go to my online banking page, transfer money to Martin and he could access it from his account. No extra cost…simples ttch!

Blackberry were great, it’s insured they said, ring us when you are back across the pond and we’ll send you a new one within 48 hours, doesn’t it just make your day when something is sorted easily, hassle free…..we didn’t need anymore hassle after yesterday.

We went to a Mall and bought a new camera. Robyn and Adam are going to share it for now, I am going to keep the camera when we go home. Martin has Nikon insurance so he should be able to get his replaced easily. Phew…so much to think about. We got some crutches for Adam from the pharmacy, got a huge filled pita for lunch and piled into van and left Calgary. We were heading south towards the Rocky mountains.

It was a gorgeous day, clear blue sky, warm breeze and around 25 degrees. Everything looks so nice in the sun and we were all in good spirits as we headed out of town. We drove through Banff National Park and into Kootenay National Park and Adam and Robyn described points of interest as we travelled. In the mountain, the roads start to twist and turn, a change from the mile after mile of straight roads in the cities and on the outskirts. We climbed up and down hills as we went further into Kootenay, Robyn driving as Adam’s foot was painful. As we drove along we got our first sight of some wildlife, four deer, two standing and two young ones laid down in the grass, they are really pretty and we all oohed and aahed at the sight. A little further on the road split into two lanes our side and Robyn managed to overtake some slow vehicles as we climbed a hill, she squeezed the van back in between two cars and suddenly, the vehicles ahead started braking and slowing down. What’s going on now we wondered, more road-works maybe? As we slowly rounded the bend a Female Black Bear and cub, were casually crossing the road, I struggled to get the camera, still wanted to look at this amazing sight but by the time I switched the camera on and pressed the button, the delay meant that they had gone over the bank and disappeared into the trees. I am disappointed that we never got a picture, but I still have goose bumps thinking of how close we were to them, I’m not good at distance, but I reckon we were about 4 car lengths away…amazing. Some people I have spoken to have lived here all their lives and never seen a Bear and Adam said it was the closest he has been to one. We were really lucky. Further on we saw some wild Canadian Mountain goats, just lurking in a parking space, like they owned the place. What a great way to start a road trip and there was more great stuff to come.

We drove on towards Moose Lake and Radium and as we turned left into the mountain road (well dirt track really), Robyn swapped seats with Adam for the drive up the mountain. Wow! What a scary drive, Gravel road, very high and narrow in places. I am not happy at height and I hate height and movement, makes me feel nauseous but if you want to see things you just have to grit your teeth and go for it. On the way up to Moose Lake we saw, black squirrels, chipmunks and cows! Yes cows, now that is really wild! At the lake, which is really pretty, we stopped and ate the watermelon we had in the cool box and finished off the ham, salami and cucumbers that we brought from the fridge. We didn’t stay too long as the flies are like bumble bees and they BITE! Martin got bitten and so did I, these bugs like British flesh.

On the way down the mountain, we stopped at a natural hot spring, we paddled in water that was hotter than bath water, the smell of the sulphur wafting all around. Martin tried the cold pool too, not for me though, I have had my fill of cold water for a while. We decided not to get right into the water as we had to go on further and didn’t want to get the van wet or our clothes. What a great day and we have some brilliant pictures.

We got back to the van and drove on to Kimberley, our hotel was fantastic, in fact it was more than that. Kimberley is quiet in Summer as it’s a Ski resort, so we got a great suite, 2 en suite bedrooms, balcony, fantastic living room complete with cooking facilities and the beds were so big, it felt like I was sleeping on my own! You can view the resort at www.mountainspirit.ca What a great place. We ate supper across the road at Kelsey’s which is similar to Brewer’s Fayre at home and the waiter (David) was kind enough to sell us a bottle of wine to take back to our room and he even loaned us a corkscrew, even though it was officially against the rules. When we went back to the hotel, we sat at the high table in our suite, drank the wine, took pictures with our new camera with the self-timer and had high jinks taking pictures, even one of Robyn, fully clothed in the bath-tub! We all fell into bed exhausted, what a day, I love holidays …..

Monday morning and we woke in the huge bed which could easily sleep 8. I was first up, I usually am, I think I’ve been second up twice……. What a woman! I switched on the net-book, we have complimentary wi-fi here and I wanted to message people on Face book, I am now without my usual way of contact (my deceased Blackberry). I messaged Joanne, transferred money to Martin’s account and phaffed about, I also made a pot of coffee, there is no kettle for tea. Adam and Robyn got up and hobbled around sorting out their sore feet and got straight down to finding us a Hotel in CouerD’Alane IDAHO we were going to be in America today, earlier than we expected.

We wound our way through mountain roads, past huge green fields and ranches, over railway bridges and through small towns with just a few houses. The scenery is stunning in this part of the World with huge lakes and rivers that wind through the valleys like big blue veins. We counted down the Kilometres to the border and got passports ready. We all laughed at our passport photos and Robyn and Adam thought it was funny that I said Martin looked like an escaped convict in his!

We passed through Cranberra and we all agreed that it looked a bit dodgy, one of those places you didn’t really want to stop at. Maybe it’s a nice place, but it looked dirty and run down. We passed by Elizabeth lake, went through Moyie, where the lake is enormous and the deepest blue and a little place called Yahk, the saloon there was called ‘The Horny Owl’ I’m curious to know where that came from.

We arrived at the border at 1.15pm local time and we had to put our watches back one hour. When you live in little old GB it seems strange to go through time zones while your still in the same country! The Border Policeman was really surly and snapped off questions really quickly. Have you been convicted of anything are you carrying any firearms, drugs, food and so on. I had difficulty understanding him and he instructed Robyn to take off her sunglasses as he checked the passports. Some people just have such an attitude, welcome to America! He told us to park around the corner, go inside and sign up for our I-94 permits to enter the US. We had to fill in paper work, get our fingerprints taken and get mug shots done. It cost us $12 and he asked for it in America, thank God Robyn had the sense to pick up some dollars at the bank and she could lend us some. By the time we got back to the Dodge we felt like criminals. I’m sure we don’t cause the Americans so much stress when they visit the UK, maybe we’re too soft!

About 3 miles over the border in Idaho, we stopped on a hill to take in the view, our first real look at the US, the expanse of land in front of us is immense and you just can’t quite describe the feeling you get. The way you feel like a dot, in a huge world, insignificant and tiny, as they say in America…Awesome! We drove on and passed small towns, with lovely place names like, Songbird lane, Dusty Lane and Silhouette Drive, stirs the imagination and you start to wonder where the names came from? As we drove on, we came to a huge lake in a place called Sandpoint. This was almost a small ocean and there were boats and jet-skis screaming up and down at break-neck speed. Near Sandpoint Lodge, there is a small ‘beach’ with sun beds, chairs and tables, just like the seaside at Blackpool, but with a lake where the sea should be. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The temperature outside was 32 degrees, so the people on the sun beds must be frying!

We finally arrived at CouerD’Alane at around 3.15pm and found the hotel, it’s not as nice as yesterdays ‘suite’ but the room is pleasant and clean. It has a microwave, fridge and coffee maker and a huge Queen size bed. The air conditioning is really cranky and hums constantly but it’s a muggy 32 degrees outside, so you need it on.

We chilled out for a couple of hours and then went out to ‘The Olive Tree’ restaurant for supper. I had Parmesan sirloin with garlic mash, Martin and Adam had a seafood dish with scallops and shrimp and Robyn had Chicken Marsala, with fried potatoes. They brought us hot bread, coated in garlic butter and a huge bowl of salad before we started and I sampled their signature wine, a Rose blush which was gorgeous. Robyn ordered a cocktail, Long Island Ice tea, but she didn’t like it, so Adam drank it, along with his beer and was just a bit squiffy! He and Martin also had 2 pints of Budweiser and Robyn had a strawberry Dachari which looked like a milk shake with whipped cream! At the end of it we were stuffed and made our way back to book a Hotel for tomorrow night.

We have just left the ‘young people’. Hotel booked for tomorrow, we will be staying in Seattle, but that’s day 18 and another blog post, so for now goodnight….Granny….to be continued………..

Imagine this, you wake up one morning and you are suddenly a ‘teenager’. You are no longer 12 but 13! When you went to bed last night, you were treated like a child. You woke up this morning and you are expected to behave like an adult…overnight! Oh, but you must still listen to what adults say, you still can’t make any decisions, you still have to put up with rules and regulations, except now you are expected to think like an adult and act like an adult, even tough you are still treated by your parent, as a child? Confused, well I know I was at this period in my life?

In their teens, kids experience a growth spurt that causes all sorts of problems, e.g. my son went from a size 4 shoe to a size 11 in 3 months, causing a financial headache as we struggled to afford new shoes every 3 weeks or so and his trousers always seemed to be a half mast. Some boys can grow by as much as 9cm a year and girls at a rate of 8cm a year. Is it any wonder that teenagers are awkward or clumsy and self-concious at this time? They don’t know from one day to the next what will fit them. Another problem is that as a teenager, your brain doesn’t seem to keep up with this growth spurt and hormones rage through your body causing all sorts of mood swings and attitude issues.

As a 15 year old I caused my parents all sorts of problems but the problems started much earlier. At 13 I was a nightmare to live with and can vividly remember screaming obcenities at my mother because she wouldn’t let me wear makeup to the school party! It seems trivial now but at that time it was a matter of life or death that I looked older than my years and it was for this very reason that I took up smoking! Rebellion was high on my agenda! My hair was down my back and was my Father’s pride and joy, so I got off the school bus and had it shaved off and bleached! I bought 18 lace-hole Doc Martin’s, stay pressed trousers and a Ben Sherman check shirt and became the first Skin-head in the village. My Mother almost fainted when she saw it and I got a clip round the ear and was grounded for a month until it grew back (my hair has been short ever since). Rebellion is nothing new as this was 1973!

My point in all this is that teenagers have always been the same and puberty has always been a problem so why do the vast majority of people over the age of 35 seem to have a huge problem with them? they are just the next generation of ‘Teddy boys’, ‘Mods’ and ‘ rockers’, aren’t they?

I am lucky I work with teenagers on a daily basis and I think for the mostpart I understand them but when I don’t I accept that they don’t understand themselves yet. At this moment in their lives, they are working hard internally and externally, on trying to ‘morph’ into the kind of adults that adults find acceptable and that’s a huge ask! If they make mistakes, often they are not allowed to forget and move on, anyone who ever made a mistake, (and I made loads), will remember this feeling of despair as your family heap on the disappointment and guilt, is it any wonder that they become disillusioned with adults?

So next time you feel like giving your teenagers a hard time, remember that not so long ago, you were the teenager and while these young adults should be guided and advised, a little bit of mutual respect will go a long way. Treat your teenagers well, they will one day choose your nursing home! Now that is a scary thought……..

So what is it that people hate about swearing, after all, you can say all manner of words, but if you use them in a certain way, they can be described as offensive. These are the type of things I hear people say regarding swearing. It reduces respect people have for you, It shows you don’t have control, It’s a sign of a bad attitude, It discloses a lack of character,It’s immature, It reflects ignorance…..I have to say, I disagree for the most part. I am very much of the ‘school of thought’ that says all words are just that, words, and as long as they are used in context, then so be it. The only time I have a problem, is when words are used in a derogitory way, or in an aggressive manner!

I am old enough to remember my own Grandmother asking God to forgive her for using the word ‘Damn’ and woe betide her if she ever said , bloddy or bugger and I suppose they were the ‘F’ words of post WW1 Britain. Surely then the natural evolution of language, the media and the influx of migrants have led to a dilution of the English language and far more tolerence to improper English, dialects and swear words etc. These days expletives are all over the TV and increasingly swear words are being heard before the 9 0 clock watershed. So does it signify ignorance, lack of vocabulary or disrespect?

Oscar Wilde once said

With swearing, context is everything

I have to say, I agree; the one thing I cannot stand is to hear someone, no matter what age, swearing every other word and using swear words as part of every day language. I believe there is a time and place and in general most people respect this in that they don’t swear constantly at work in an office, they would not usually swear in Church or in front of parents and children, though they would swear socially with long standing friends or peer groups and also if they worked outside e.g. on a building site.

“Global changes have made a huge difference, with language barriers being overcome by finding common words that can be understood by diverse culture groups this is obvious if you listen to Rap music, and street talk amongst different groups. I think in some cases, the swear words are dumbing down slightly, for instance,you are far more likely to hear the word ‘crap’ as opposed to’shit’ and ‘shag’ as opposed to ‘fuck’, and so on. then there is every woman’s nightmare…the dreaded C*nt word! Why can’t I even bring myself to write it down in full, I hate the word, although I occasionally use all of the others. I honestly think it’s instilled in me that it’s so bad, that I may go to Hell in a handcart with my Granny who said ‘Damn’!

One thing is for sure though, I never use swear words in an offensive or aggressive way, I am far less likely to swear during an argument than I am while telling a joke, or laughing with friends. I am more likely to use swear words in a jovial way, therefore it is never meant as an expression of anger or disgust.

So if I swear at you on Twitter, Facebook, GrannyRant or any where else for that matter, it will mean that you are in the circle of people with whom I feel comfortable to do so. I chose you as a friend and to any one else who takes offence, they really don’t know me and I couldn’t give a flying fuck!….Now, Where’s that hand-cart??

From the outset, the whole point of me writing this blog was for me to have a place where I could vent my feelings about all sorts of things. Every day there was something, which really ticked me off and I wanted to find out if anyone else agreed with me. So why now, three months in, am I feeling really insecure about my blog? I feel that I haven’t yet found my writing style, that I haven’t found anything which really catches the imagination of others and I really haven’t got that much to rant about at all? So is my blog dead before it ever lived?

I wanted it to be witty, eye catching, interesting and thought provoking? The only thoughts it’s provoking in me now, is that maybe I am not cut out to blog, but should carry on speaking my thoughts out loud for the entire world to hear, which seems to make people laugh out loud (occasionally). Maybe the world isn’t yet ready for another middle aged woman regurgitating words of no significance to the rest of the world?

I have checked out other peoples’ blogs and they all look far more interesting than mine. Most of them are well written and seem to be far more well informed. I have flogged it to death on Twitter, Facebook, Digg etc and while it has had over 6,000 hits in 3 months, there are very few comments and this is what makes me think, is there a point?

Maybe this is what I needed to do, ‘ramble’ a bit, because these words seem to be flowing far more freely than some of my other blurbs, maybe I should be a bit more controversial, maybe I should swear more or put some pictures of naked men on here…..any ideas?

I have recently been trying to sort out my rather overweight body (5st overweight to be exact), in an effort to be fit for a trip to Canada in the summer. You know how it is, I had visitors from Canada staying at my house last year and we decided to take them up on the offer of a return trip! Fabulous, they live in Calgary, we can visit all the tourist areas, as well as catching up with family in Saskatchewan and not paying out a years salary on accomodation.

Whoopee, all systems go then. It was then that I looked in the mirror and listened to my chest playing tunes as I went up the stairs and thought…I need to lose weight and get fit for this! My cousin, who is putting us up for the first part of the holiday, is organising the trip and she’s in her late 20′s so it’s not likely to be a ‘stroll in the park’ for me and my significant other who are the wrong side of 50!

My dilemma now is how to do it? First, I thought, I need to drop 2 dress sizes, so I joined a slimming club, started walking more and generally tried to eat healthily, in the 7 months that followed the weight came off steadily and I have now lost 31lbs, 3 dress sizes and I feel far better. This is not enough though and being a person who finds the gym worse than chewing tin foil, I am still trying to find ways to tone up and build some muscle, which I am reliably informed will help me burn calories quicker.

So here I am, everything going south, cellulite in places I never knew existed and unfit. Walking is great, I am getting better and can comfortably walk 7 miles in one go, not bad. However, it does next to nothing for this lumpy bumpy body that now makes me look like a pile of rubber rings in my smaller clothes!

I have also hit a plateau in my weight loss plan and have stood still or only lost half a pound in the last 6 weeks gggrrrr, it really is hard to stay motivated and in the past (I’ve been ‘dieting’ most of my adult life), this is the point where I say, stuff the diet and order a take-away……

HELP, I think I’m falling off the wagon……Does my fat look like a bum in this?

What is it with people in towncentres and supermarkets, that makes them want to stand in groups and talk, right in front of the shop/shelf you need to get to? If they want to chat, do it in the cafe, the car park, or somewhere that doesn’t cheese off the rest of the stressed public!

I have just been to a supermarket where ‘every little helps’, which incidentally in our town is supposed to be the ‘Express’ version of the store? (that’s a joke right). I had 20 minutes to spare and needed to be in and out. I have now come to the conclusion that there is no way it can be done. It’s full of people using a supermarket as a meeting place, to discuss all manner of shite they could just as easily chat about elsewhere. They are probably talking to people they live 2 doors from and could shout over the garden wall.

You can spot them from the door, for instance, the bread is in aisle one, right between the crumpets and the pitta bread stands 4 members of the blue-rinse brigade and they can see you coming…as you approach they close ranks. The largest of the four, who must be deaf from the way she’s shouting, turns her back on me and pulls her shorter friend towards her ample bosom. Now I have lost sight of the crumpets and start ducking and diving like a meerkat to see if there are any left? I’m not even going to think about looking for the price, because if I can get at them at all, it will be a bloody miracle!

Then suddenly they decide they will move for me to browse the shelf, but now they are right in front of that crusty loaf I’m after, so I’m stuffed again and find myself apologising for moving them so that I can shop!

Off we go again, manouvering my wonky wheeled trolly to the end of aisle one and tentatively turning left into the pleasantly cool, chilled aisle where I try and find the milk I want. Horror of horrors, I am now confronted by a young Mother almost pulling her hair out because of a screaming two year old having a tantrum over the yogurt. She apologises for his antics offering the excuse…”terrible twos eh”? Terrible, this kid was the genuine child from hell right at that moment, spitting and kicking because he couldn’t get his own way. If he’d have been my child I think I would have walked away, left him screaming and picked him up when I had finished shopping. I could still hear him screaming when I finally got to the checkout!

Right, so far it’s taken me ten minutes to do two aisles..I run around frantically picking up the items I want, dodging more old aged terrorists and half a dozen supermarket workers with huge cages, trying to stock shelves (why don’t they employ night shift workers for that?). I fly down the wine aisle picking up a nice Chardonnay and a couple of bottles of Magners for my significant other and race towards the finish line.

I weave in and out of the queues to the self service ‘express checkout’ with three minutes to spare. Press the start button, scan the wine and bingo… “approval needed” says the automated message. Is there a member of staff anywhere to be found…you guessed it…NO! Two minutes later, here comes a Lily Savage lookalike and I resist the temptation to say “took your time didn’t you”, taps in the number and away I go again. I frantically try to get the cider through while she’s still there, but too quickly she disappears out of sight and the dreaded approval needed message goes again. I’m over time now and any chance of me getting to my appointment on time is fading fast! By the time I finish wrestling with the bags, trying to get the bent twenty pound note into the slot and taking my change, I have been in the store 40 minutes.

I pick up my bags, let out a sigh of relief and glance to my left as I approach the exit doors…they are still there, chatting away, not a care in the world and some bloke is still trying to get hold of some crumpets. It ought to be outlawed, how the Hell they can call shopping retail therapy is beyond me. Therapy is what you need after you leave the shops and as for calling any supermarket ‘express’ should be against the Trades Descriptions act!!

50 is the new 40…yeah right, tell that to the people, especially women of a certain age, who feel that they are a mere shadow of their former selves. Not that they are going to fade away quietly into obscurity mind you, in fact, quite the opposite!

Personally, since reaching the age of nifty 50, I have a new found energy, the trouble is, I have turned into a cross between, the Incredible Hulk, Dame Edna and my Mother!

The unmistakable signs of being a ‘Grumpy Old Woman’ include;

Shop assistants cower in fear when I return goods
I am the litterbugs worst nightmare
Men are afraid to be left alone with me in case I pounce on them (which I have no intentions of doing BTW)!
I like flat, slip on shoes that save me bending but I insist on trying to walk in 4 inch heels with ankle straps.
I should wear BIG knickers but I still insist on trying to squeeze my backside into cheese-cutter thongs!
I’ve started collecting used margarine pots to do a bit of ‘potting on’
I have started to enjoy staying in (sound familiar)?
I have started to morph into my Mother

I say things That Grumpy Old Women Say such as

It’s a bloody disgrace
I want to talk to someone in authority
In my day, or in the good old days
I’m not having that!
I’m off to spend a penny
Whoops a daisy
Is it me or is it hot in here?
There’s nothing to beat a nice cuppa
I can remember those flared trousers first time around
Why does no-one write their own music anymore?

I want to ensure that it is not a downhill slide from here to 60 something, so from now on, I will dance like no-ones looking and generally enjoy myself. Let’s face it, you’re a long time dead!!