Don't Mess With Grandma

The generation of tough Grannies belongs to a generation that grew up after the second 

World War; I tell you, Grannies were made of iron and their rule was iron as well.

The universal marker seems to be that Grandmothers were small of stature but tough as old 

boots; most of them lived into their nineties, and if children wanted to survive, you did as 

you were told, oh yes.

Grandma was viewed with a mixture of fear and wonder: the rules of the house were laid 

down by her, and everyone knew it.

One such Grandma had the dinner ready by the appointed hour, no if’s or buts. If any of her 

daughters were kept in at school, retribution was swift. Off came the apron, and Gran 

marched down to the school.

“You, the dinner is on the table, home!” When the teacher protested the answer was “You

have my girls ‘till four. After that it’s my time, not yours.” So there; after Gran had broken 

the teacher’s cane, I guess that teacher knew she was beaten.

I’m sure that religion was a factor; God could see everything you did, so behave, or else you 

were in trouble. For that reason, children did all they could to make sure that parents (and

Grandma) never got to find out what their offspring were doing. God might, but that didn’t 

matter. Don’t get caught, words to live by you know.

That didn’t work for one young lad who made a rough version of a sleigh with wheels that 

he nicked off a pram. After he and a mate had terrorised the entire street racing down the

hill, no brakes of course, his Mum seized an axe and chopped the sleigh into bits of 

matchwood. She was four foot nothing, obviously a Gran-in-Training.

They don’t make them like that any more.

The lore of Grandma is an old one: think about the story of Red Riding Hood. For pity’s 

sake, the Grandmother is bloody terrifying: the core of this tale is that Grandmothers are

terrible things, they want to eat you, they have these teeth and you have to placate them

with gifts, mostly food.

Someone back in the mists of time was tortured or nearly eaten by a hungry Grandma. If you

 stop to count them up there are a lot of very angry Grannies in those “fairy stories.’

Worried? Damn right you should be.

No wonder kids look at Grandmother sideways.

Just as I was sure that tough Grannies are a thing of the past, I began to wonder – talking to

one of the post war children, now a grandmother herself.

She had a run-in with the grandson; before he went off in a huff she told him “I won’t 

forget, and I shall be waiting.” So she waited, and as he floated past her in a teenage dream, 

Granny jumped him. Oh yeah.

When asked why, Grandmother replied “Because I did remember, and I am not stupid.”

Result – Grandmother 150 points. Teenage grandson – Null, Zero, Nada.

That child has learned a valuable life lesson.

 'Don’t Mess With Grandma.'

  Yep.

                                               

                                         

Get Ahead Get a Torch

A word of advice to all you folks out there; go, get yourself a torch because we are entering The Age of Darkness. For real.

Where I live, we will be in darkness as the council has decided to turn all the road lights off ‘except the essential ones at junctions and roundabouts’.

So we can all creep up the road in the dark can’t we?

One local lady complained about the lack of lighting down her street, and guess what?

She was told to get herself a TORCH!

There you are nothing to worry about is there? No good if we do as you, me and the rest of the populace can jolly well look after ourselves.

It seems that in some parts of the country, the police won’t go out in the dark as it is too dangerous; and there we were thinking the police are employed to protect us. Afraid not, it seems that our coppers can’t face the darkness; in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire, officers will not patrol a playground plagued by teenage hoodlums.

“A senior officer told stunned councilors there would be no patrols after 8pm at newly-built Waterlees Park in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire, for health and safety reasons.”

The Inspector said his staff couldn’t go into the Park at night as …get this, ‘They can’t see where they’re going”

Understandably the council was stunned by this pearl of wisdom, and one council chappie asked” Don’t they carry torches?’

NO, that’s what the rest of us have to do, Councilor and the police are going to stay indoors with all the lights on.

But the Cambridge police did say that if a crime was committed they would turn out and ‘take appropriate action.’ So that’s all right then, don’t you worry none.

But get a torch – a stonking great big one, you’ll going to need it.

YEP

 Source/Mail Online Monday, Jan 31 2011

Yes Dear, No Dear

Now that the festive hols are over and the Christmas tree gets shoved back in the loft, blokes all over the country heave a sigh of relief and hurry off to places like B&Q, or any DIY they can find.
You see them pacing the store, brows furrowed in deep thought as they consider the merits of anodised bolts or plated screws, so happy to be free of domestic woes, the turkey that crisped a tad too much or the unwanted gifts from family.

And the Missus is still smouldering cos she didn’t get those hair straightners or the sparkly little trifle she had pointed out, very carefully.


Big Mistake, yes indeed, so he escapes to B&Q to get on with the things that matter like the new garden shed, or the essential refurbishments for the garage; no bloke can manage without a well equipped garage and I’m not talking about the car.

No one is going to bug them with unwanted reminders or suggest they get on with enhancing the kitchen, or ‘Do you need any help, Sir?”
Not in B&Q I can tell you, as the staff are either invisible or down the Job Centre, so it’s peace, folks, total peace.

But not for the couples who have decided to tackle the biggie, the NEW KITCHEN.

One of you has at be in charge, and I suggest to all the blokes that it’s left to the Missus or your life is going to be hell, the sort that never ends.
Just watch Madame as she goes into kitchen details, the hob, the dishwasher, the self cleaning sink and the toaster that lights up, but try to stay awake because it’s you that will be paying.

Don’t follow the example of our chum, telling his wife just what they need and would have, how this kitchen was really great, and so on. The expression on his wife’s face said it all.‘Kill, Kill, Kill




Poor sod, quite oblivious that his wife wasn’t on the same page, had left the room, and she will never ever forgive him.
Believe me, she won‘t.
Wander as a cloud or maybe a six throttle Black & Decker through the spaces of your DIY store, but leave the kitchen to your Domestic Goddess, and practice chanting every day,

“Yes dear, No dear, whatever you say, dear” and if you must, “Three bags full, dear.”But the last mentioned, is best kept silent, don’t you think?
Yep.
Red Fred, who is not a bloke or red, likes to rant; in fact has a Diploma in it. Has no interest in helping little old ladies across the road or kissing babies.
Boil babies? Of course

Red Fred 2005 -2011

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