“Back to School” & “The Pitfalls of Honesty in Blogging”

More recycling: a trio from June 4th – 20th 2011…


After half term…

  • £30.00 for after school football club
  • £30.00 for school trip
  • £70.00 final payment for school activity week later in month (total cost £250 + spending money)

No cinema or climbing club for you this term, matey…

And on Friday it’s the final payment of £50.00 for scout’s summer camp (total £180)… He had to miss out on the trip to HMS Belfast and the various water sports options at a local reservoir, poor little hard done by thing…

Not to mention the prescription swimming goggles he (really) really does need for both scout and school activity weeks and our summer hol ‘cos he’s like a blind fish out of water in the water and he’s going to be doing some serious wet stuff on all three… And his scrips changed again, so he needs new glasses, and it actually works out almost as expensive to get his existing frames ‘re-glazed’ as to buy new ones but he doesn’t like the frames and then there’s the bogof deal etc etc etc etc…

Meanwhile, I’m now living on porridge and water (oats is cheaper than bread), and havingpoor piggy bank robbed Peter to pay Paul I am now robbing Percy to pay Peter back ‘cos he’s getting a bit antsy, and still wondering where the hell our holiday spending money is going to come from.

And, I’m not complaining really, ‘cos I know even if I’m having to juggle desperately we’re still just in the black and will probably make it to Christmas without having to sell our furniture, but I do sometimes wonder what life would be like if I actually wanted a life too! And I do think, even though it makes me sound like a miserable old git, that kids get offered too much these days and the guilt/pressure on parents to fund all these brilliant ideas for trips and activity weeks and after school clubs that people keep coming up with is completely unfair on us and them.

When I were a lad I had one day at the seaside a year on the Kahnsil estate outing to Hastings. We ate samwidges and hard-boiled eggs on the beach and threw pebbles at seagulls. One year I threw one straight up in the air and managed to split my own head open when I got distracted and it came back down on the same trajectory, but it was still the best ‘holiday’ I ever had because my brother got ill with sunstroke and didn’t want his boiled egg so I got two.

As far as school outings went we had an ‘activity week’ which did offer sports breaks and things but also included the free option of ‘art activities’ for the likes of me. This was basically a week spent throwing modelling clay at ‘Cat’ Felix and flicking paint at Kevin Kibby when we caught him picking his nose and eating it. Which was often.

Kid’s today, don’t know they’re born, do they? Poverty was real poverty back then – not likeNOSE PICKER poverty now with its flat screen TV’s and X-Boxes and Mobile phones… Mind you, if I was a kid now I’d trade all of them for a day’s pug-whanging up the twitten, but there are no twittens anymore and no pugholes to whang pug from even if there were…

God, I’ve depressed myself now, and I wasn’t feeling that great to start with…

Ho bloody hum…


I was viewing a writer’s website earlier and noticed all these grandiose quotes by various writers about the art of writing…Thought I should have one of my own on my website too:

Writing is like having a crap: Sometimes it’s fast and furious and sometimes it’s slow and painful, but either way it’s probably better out than in.

Whaddaya reckon? Much better than that ol’ tosspot Wordsworth’s mawkish drivel, ennit?

(Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.  ~William Wankspanner Wordsworth)



In the past few weeks I’ve been trying to drum up some enthusiasm for getting out into the world and meeting people. Trouble is, I’m not really, unlike Reggie Perrin’s son-in-law Tom, a ‘People Person’. I’m more of a Reggie, really; i.e. socially intolerant and given to wild ranting over petty annoyances. And the problem with meeting people face to face in situations that may be repeated and where you are likely to come face to face with the same people again is that you can’t really rant freely in your blog about the petty things they have done which annoy you. Like breathing. Or wanting froth on their coffee. Or buying Panini with ‘red onion marmalade’ without laughing out loud at the pretentiousness of it and asking the vendor ‘can I have two dollops of relish with my roll, please’. I found myself biting my tongue quite a bit, to the point that it started hurting and I bit the edge of the table instead. I left two crowns embedded in the tabletop when I stopped, which while commendable as an indicator of personal restraint adds up to a pretty expensive morning out, even without the Panini and red-onion marmalade.

Talking of food, though, I went to a ‘food market’ last weekend – you know, those things where people pull up in their Chelsea tractors and set up stalls selling stuff they’ve bought in Waitrose and decanted into home-labelled plastic bags with a two-hundred percent mark up on them. Mostly it was crap, but I did buy some nice wet garlic (yum yum), some overpriced but quite tasty Toulouse sossidges (sold to me by a French midget in a top hat and paint-spattered overalls , so I think they were very authentic) and two portions of traditional Jamaican Jerk chicken from a lovely West Indian lady who, rather disappointingly, informed me that the ‘secret’ of her jerk sauce was a teaspoonful of Bisto granules. BistoTOLOUSE SAUSAGE or no, it was very, very nice, and I made up a lovely batch of Rice and Peas (or, as Levi Roots or a very un-pc stand up comedian might put it ‘Rhaas an’ Peers’) to go with it.

Unfortunately the black-eyed beans gave Ben and me terrible wind, so we’ve been ‘Rude Boys’ all weekend. Ben also got a bit sick of me doing the ‘Jamaica – No she wanted to go’ routine, which is obligatory in my house whenever anything even hinting of the West Indies comes on our TV or cooker. I have my own steel drum and everything, and a lovely bunch of coconuts to boot. I don’t get many opportunities to give them an airing so they’re looking a bit jaded if I’m honest – all of the hairs have dropped off and I think the milk inside has curdled. I suppose I should invest in some new ones really, but as they’re only ornamental these days it seems a bit extravagant. For the odd occasion I do have occasion I tend to go desiccated and just add water… keeps fresh for longer, especially if kept in well burped tuppaware. I’ve just thought, actually – the cat’s moulting at the moment, so next weekend rather than hoovering it up I’ll just cover my nuts in superglue and roll them around on the carpet. If that doesn’t fluff ‘em up a bit nothing will!

Oh well… life and the kettle call…COCONUTS


2 thoughts on ““Back to School” & “The Pitfalls of Honesty in Blogging””

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