A 'special' day?

26 January 2012

32 years ago today Jan and I got married at Dorktown Registry Office.  There were mutterings and grumbles of, "It'll never last.  They never do at these sort of dos."  It was also brought forward by a couple of months and that alone set various tongues to wag same wagging tongues about how it would last.  As it turned out there were a number of noses put out of joint and pointing fingers had to be put away when our son Tom didn't show up for 18 months. 

With that in mind then, imagine my surprise when I got up to find that Jan was not here.  She had left me a note to say she had gone to the hospital because of extreme stomach pain.  I eventually got in touch with her to find out she had put on an intravenous morphine drip to control the pain she was in.  When I got there they had let her go and she was waiting by the door for me.  There was nothing more they could do seeing as she had the total amount of pain they were allowed to give her.  Anyway, she sees the GP tomorrow at 9 o'clock to arrange a scan of her gall bladder in case she has gall stones.  Now she has gone to bed for a few hours to catch up on lost sleep - she was up at 3am she says.  Some anniversary he ;-)))

The Dorktown News has a story about the Hussy Hospital again!  This one is about a patient who managed to pick up MRSA while in there.  OK, nothing new in that is there ... except that this patient was the first such case the hospital has had 23 months!  Now that is some record and shows just how well they have infections under control. 

It will soon be pancake day folks.  In Atherstone, just up the road form Dorktown they have an annual ball game which takes place in the high street there.  Now the elf'n'safety busy-bodies have put their oar in and demand that there is insurance provided to cover it.  Of course the insurance companies have rubbed their greedy sticky little maulers and are demanding more and more dosh each year to cover it.  Add that the vast amount of rules and conditions that the council are applying to it, volunteers to help run the event are getting fewer each year.  It seems now that the 828 year annual event is getting close to ending - simply because of busybody jobs worth killjoys. Come on Ester, where that hat you used to give out?

As I sit here typing I can hear or two budgies chirping and wittering on to each other.  Sadly they are the only pets we can have now.  I have an allergy to dogs even though we have had dogs in the past and Jan has one to cats.  So I get very angry when I watch telly progs about animal cruelty.  There was on the other day called Animal Cops Huston.  There was a horse featured on there that was so badly neglected that its body condition was rated as a -1, it was so bad.  I'm not a horsy person but such poor animal care, or lack thereof, makes me really angry.  For Pete's sake America was built on the backs of horses and yet that is how some owners treat them.  There's no excuse for such lack of care.

Today's, photo then ... 

considering what I have just been saying I've posted on photo of Cindypup, the Yorky Duff.  She was Jan's birthday present but turned out to be my dog.  She just stuck with me.  In this picture she in the basket of my mobility scooter.  Sadly Cindy died suddenly one Saturday evening at only 3 years of age.

And the Sage strikes again ...

A banker parks his brand-new Porsche in front of the office to show it off to his colleagues.  As he's getting out of the car, a lorry comes speeding along too close to the kerb and takes off the door before zooming off.  More than a little distraught, the banker grabs his mobile and calls the police.
          Five minutes later, the police arrive. Before the policeman has a chance to ask any questions, the man starts screaming hysterically: "My Porsche, my beautiful silver Porsche is ruined. No matter how long it's at the panel beaters, it'll simply never be the same again!'
          After the man finally finishes his rant, the policeman shakes his head in disgust.
          "I can't believe how materialistic you bloody Bankers are," he says. "You lot are so focused on your possessions that you don't notice anything else in your life."
          "How can you say such a thing at a time like this?" sobs the Porsche owner.
          The policeman replies, "Didn't you realise that your arm was torn off when the truck hit you?"  The Banker looks down in horror.
          "BLOODY HELL!" he screams. "Where's my Rolex?"