Wow, I Am So Proud Of The Mibs Family Right Now! Just Look Wot We Done!

I am sat here, just past midnight, totally exhausted and in agony but……..

 I am SOO proud of us today…

 

 BabyMibs and myself have achieved so much in such a short time..

 

 It’s been a long hard road at times…

 

  Hard to see a way forward at times…

 

 With all that rubbish in the way!

 

 

Then salvation arrived…..thanks to a local farmer giving us some of his feed pallets

  

 And took some shifting across the field!

  

 A bit of cutting down to size later ( ok hacking like crazy with a somewhat rusty old saw!)

  

DON’T let your 5 year old try this at home folks, mine was especially trained for the pose!

Our very own Grand Design!

A little somewhere to store and recycle ALL THAT BLIDDY GRASS!

( at a fraction of the £100+ the posh gardening magazines charge for similar wooden ones!)

Ours cost us a mere six free pallets, a bag of nails, a possibly fractured if not broken thumb, much cursing, several blistered and splintered fingers, and a strange inability to walk upright once done!

And the best of it?

BabyMibs actually turned to me at the end and said “you made that better than Daddy would have!”

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS lol, it’s the little things in life that please the most, and considering I was in quite a bit of pain BEFORE we started this, and since finishing I can barely move, well, how chuffed am I?

 

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Meet My Son’s New Friends – Bill And Ben The Compost Men!

Ok, ok, I know, you are all STILL awaiting the pics of the new place…..I PROMISE I will complete that post tomorrow….

In the meantime, meet my son’s new friends Bill & Ben!

Bill & Ben Naked

Bill & Ben Naked

Ok, we decided they looked a bit boring, so borrowed some paint to cheer them up a bit! 

Bill & Ben Dressed

Bill & Ben Twilight

Bill & Ben Twilight

 But at least any would-be trespassers at night armed with a torch will be in for a bit of a shock!   Don’t forget folks, the great secret to successful composting is layers, moisture, air and warmth! 

Oh, and a scary set of teeth!

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2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 34,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 13 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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To Be Continued……. – Poem

To Be Continued…….

 

All day long

I’ve been playing a song

In my heart, especially for you

While you are far away

I am counting the days

Untill it is just we two

 

The wind is howling round the door

I don’t wanna be alone no more

Give me a sign, tell me it’s time

Finally, for us to shine

 

All night alone

My house is not a home

And I just don’t know what I would do

If you stayed away

What more can I say

My heart beats only for you

 

They say time is a great healer

But I say it’s naught but a stealer

Give me a sign, tell me it’s fate

Please tell me, it’s not too late

 

All my life

Through years of toil and strife

I’ve been waiting and hoping, it’s true

That one day you’d come

My way at a run

And our lives could start anew

 

Until the day our paths recross

Inside my heart I’ll hide the loss

That song I’ll play, though it be blue

Till then, to be continued…….

 

© Lynda MibsXX Johnson 2011 onwards

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Man Flu Information – Joke

1. Man-Flu is more painful than childbirth. This is an irrefutable scientific fact*.
*(Based on a survey of over 100,000 men.)

2. Man-Flu is not ‘just a cold’. It is a condition so severe that the germs from a single Man-Flu sneeze could wipe out entire tribes of people living in the rainforest. And probably loads of monkeys too.

3. Women do not contract Man-Flu. At worst they suffer from what is medically recognised as a ‘Mild Girly Sniffle’ – which, if a man caught, he would still be able to run, throw a ball, tear the phone book in half and compete in all other kinds of manly activities.

4. Men do not ‘moan’ when they have Man-Flu. They emit involuntary groans of agony that are entirely in proportion to the unbearable pain they are in.

5. Full recovery from Man-Flu will take place much quicker if their simple requests for care, sympathy and regular cups of tea are met. Is that really so much to ask? Florence Nightingale would have done it

6. More men die each year from MFN (Man-Flu Neglect) than lots and lots of other things. (Like rabbit attacks or choking on toast).

7. Men suffering from Man-Flu want nothing more than to get out of bed and come to work, but they are too selfless to risk spreading this awful condition amongst their friends and colleagues. In this sense, they are the greatest heroes this country has ever known.

8. In 1982 scientists managed to simulate the agonising symptoms of full-blown Man-Flu in a female chimp. She became so ill that her head literally fell off.

9. Man-Flu germs are more powerful than He-Man, The Thundercats and The A-Team combined. They are too strong for weak, nasty tasting ‘lady medicines’ like Lemsip, so don’t bother trying to force them on a victim of Man-Flu.

10. While it may seem like a Man-Flu sufferer is just lying around enjoying ‘Diagnosis Murder’ it is a commonly recognised medical fact that the exact pitch and frequency of Dick Van Dyke’s voice has remarkable soothing powers.

Every minute in this country one man is struck down by Man-Flu. Women, all we ask is that each of you offers them a cup of tea, some kind words and your undivided attention and care. Then maybe, just maybe, we’ll beat this monstrous disease together.

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Best Legal High Ever! – Joke

Best Legal High Ever!

I’ve found it!

It’s awesome and can leave you spaced out for hours!

Days in fact!

It’s called Senility:

It’s good for your long-term memory!

You can walk into the kitchen and remember being a child 40,50,60,70 years ago.

It’s bad for your short-term memory though, when you get to the kitchen you cant remember what you went in there for.

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Part 1 Of How Can Anyone In The UK Possibly Be Poor? – Eating Well Or Starving To Pay Bills?

These posts have stemmed from a debate that was started accidentally elsewhere, and although it had started getting a bit personal there, it has raised some interesting questions, and some further areas I would like to explore, and I feel the subject deserves an airing here. I will make it fairly easy to respond to any section that you wish to by numbering various points that were made,do feel free to add your views but do try to keep them general and free from swearing please!

Most of these unless otherwise stated are my own personal views and I will NOT take it personally if you disagree, in fact that would make for a healthy all-round discussion. I would like to add here that I was one of the privileged high-earners and big spenders myself untill the UK’s industry took a huge nose-dive, so I do know what it’s like from both sides of the fence!

I will happily approve all comments that follow the above remit, whether you agree or disagree with any comments made here! :-)

And any tips you may have, even if you are NOT from the UK, may well help somebody somewhere so do feel free to join in, wherever you are based!

Part 2 is      It’s All Your Own Fault 

Part 3 is      Get Off Your Backsides And Get A Job

Part 4 is      Do Not Have Children Until You Are Financially Ready To!

 

TO EAT OR NOT TO EAT

1 - The debate starts with the general cost of food and living, what do you consider to be poor, not being able to afford to eat out/order a takeaway?

Or simply not being able to put food on the table?

There were those who thought that simply not being able to enjoy a meal out now and then anymore placed them in the realms of hardship, and others who really and truly don’t have enough money left after paying out for mortgage/rent, bills etc to be able to eat well every day.

Some came up with suggestions that poorer people must inherently have more time on their hands to shop better, trawl around looking for mark-downs and bargains, and surely in a better position than most to make use of these.

That’s great if you do indeed have time spare in a low-waged hectic life, AND happen to live in an area where large supermarkets and other likely mark-down establishments are plentiful and local, or even where public transport is cheaply and readily available. This idea doesn’t work for those not living in or near a large city, nor for those with small or school-aged children as reductions do tend to be made past most kiddies bedtime, and having dragged my little man off to the shops late at night on what is where I live quite expensive public transport only to find there were no mark-downs that evening so money thrown away, that idea is sadly not really an option for me. I myself used to live in London, Birmingham and Sheffield, and yes great bargains can be found in large built-up areas, but alas not in the “sticks”.

 

2. Another  suggestion was that the poor should help themselves by baking cakes and selling/swapping them in local shops for vegetables etc to help themselves out. I have priced up what it would cost me to make, say, 10 apple pies, which on my budget equated to 2/3rd’s of my total weekly income left after rent and bills, and then today I made an effort to walk to the few local shops we have left here to see if they would be interested in swaps, and if so what for?

Their response?

Unsurprisingly, most said they wouldn’t be able to consider this as it would contravene some rules on food safety and traceability, not that they doubted my cooking prowess, but if a food poisoning outbreak should occur, then they wouldn’t want to be taking that risk, also that aside, I would have gotten in return goods far less in value than my original outlay!

So, great suggestion if you live in an old-fashioned local village, not so great for the majority who live in urban hellholes.

3.  Another suggestion was that the poor should grow their own, again not a very well thought out idea. Great if you happen to have a garden you can do this in, but if you are in a high-rise flat not so easy. I myself don’t have access to the garden, although it is supposed to be a shared one, (don’t ask), yet this year set up a lot of things growing in pots, all given to me through Freecycle ( well worth checking out in your local area) or bought very cheaply here and there, but even so, my total outlay on seeds, pots and soil this year represents well over a month’s income for me BEFORE rent, and thanks to a combination of the weather, some hungry wildlife eating most of my plants, and an unsympathetic landlord ( the pots were considered to be unsightly!) my rewards foodwise are NOT going to be worthwhile financially, although the pleasure my son has gotten out of the exercise and the seeds I have cross-germinated will be fantastic for my small-holding plans next year.

 

To be continued……………

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Old Bob – Poem

This is one of a series of poems, written by my Grandmother, that represent a portrait of her childhood in Thomas Hardy’s Wessex, places and people she loved who are, for the most part, no longer with us.

She dedicates each and every poem to her daughters, and has kindly given me permission to share them with you all, enjoy…

Old Bob

I was in the walled garden, I remember

It was a curious fact, but here

Enclosed and sloping southwards, it was always

Noticeably warmer. And near,

Against the walls, raspberries in profusion

And loganberries, luscious red,

Grew with a wild abandon. Here they found me

And here they told me, ‘Bob is dead.’

 

He was getting old, older than I was then,

And long ago had ceased to work,

Enjoying freedom, rolling in the grass, and

Munching up the apples, a perk

He’d shared with me. Now Father and Grandfather

Tried not to show their tears, and grief

Bound us together, there within the garden

Where death had entered like a thief.

 

© Dorothy Davis-Sellick 1998 onwards

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MibsXX:

I personally am more reminded of the old Smash advert, with the laughing tin Martians whenever I see news on the Curiosity bot!
Saw the “lights in the sky” last night myself, and suspect it was a satellite or something crashing down..definately didn’t act like a meteor and “they” are good at not being totally honest with us ( maybe someone in the Middle East finally managed to attempt to nuke us?)
Who knows, but it was one heck of a good light show, and will provide rich fodder for great imaginations such as Kate’s, love the story Kate, brilliant imagery!

Originally posted on Kate Shrewsday:

It appears man’s technology is not advancing quite fast enough.

Six weeks ago, the rover robot Curiosity made it to the surface of Mars. It was not a dead cert. There were many things which could have gone awry: but mankind in general and NASA in particular patted themselves on the back when the little robot made it.

What an achievement. Our man on Mars, taking pictures of that ethereal moon, Phobos, crossing the sun; strolling across the surface of the red planet and sending back holiday snaps.

It has not travelled far, however.

During its six week vacation – it landed August 6 –  it has trekked a vast 950 yards and now it has become extremely preoccupied with a rock.

I can see why. It’s a pretty shape.

A bit too pretty, if you ask me.

It is a creditable pyramid, in dark stone. According to the BBC

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Great Expectations

Hello all, yes, I know, I haven’t been around that much all summer, blame it on a bad wrist, writer’s cramp, and to be brutally honest, booger all to write about untill now.

But now…I have spent some time trying to get to know someone, someone I really thought was special,…then the bombshell, someone they’ve apparently known for years has “popped” back onto the scene and hey presto, me out in the cold, second place again. NOT

Those of you who know me well, will know this simply isn’t going to happen to me again, even if it means my being a spinster all my life, no way will I take second row to anyone anymore.

Altogether this has been a rather strange summer, BabyMibs has grown far faster than I had anticipated, both in spirit and in size, and it feels as though almost everyone I know has either gotten engaged or married….maybe just my old age showing through or maybe life trying to tell me something, am still undecided on that front.

BabyMibs is starting to show his own personality quite strongly now….he has very fixed mideas on what he’d like to do etc, and I think maybe I am geting the same way in a different way. I feel I have gotten the same way, short-tempered, short-fused and definitely far too short on time to waste on guys who may be interested, maybe not.

Have a feeling my new mindset is going to end a “cruel summer” with a “winter’s tale”, but why on earth should I settle for second-best?

 

I am the best thing that could happen to anyone..am I not??

 

Apologies on the lack of posts..watch this space for updates on our summer hols and how the new place is shaping up xx

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Seasons – Poem

This is one of a series of poems, written by my Grandmother, that represent a portrait of her childhood in Thomas Hardy’s Wessex, places and people she loved who are, for the most part, no longer with us. She dedicates each and every poem to her daughters, and has kindly given me permission to share them with you all, enjoy…

 

Seasons

There were rich pickings in the hedgerows then,

Where the blackberries crowded out the sloe

And hop vines twined about the wild rosehips

And hawthorn berries cast a scarlet glow.

 

To the music of birdsong we would pick

Our fill throughout the season; then the mist

of autumn would sparkle like jewels, from

Cobwebs flung down with a prodigal fist.

 

On branches where the fruit had lately been,

And through the winter, feasting on the good

Rich harvest of the summer, round fires of logs,

Pale summer ghosts curled from the smould’ring wood.

 

© Dorothy Davis-Sellick 1998 onwards

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Filed under Meet The Family, Other Folks Writings That I Like, Poem Of The Week, Poetry

Harvest Service – Poem

This is one of a series of poems, written by my Grandmother, that represent a portrait of her childhood in Thomas Hardy’s Wessex, places and people she loved who are, for the most part, no longer with us. She dedicates each and every poem to her daughters, and has kindly given me permission to share them with you all, enjoy…

 

Harvest Service

Welcoming us, the rector said,

“I wish that we could see you here

More often than just once a year, at harvest.”

 

Avoiding his eyes, we looked around

At the results of a year’s work

Piled high above the altar. The best

 

Of all that we had worked for

Throughout a lonely year – fruit and

Vegetables, and a tall ladder, which

 

Entwined with flowers and greenery,

Reached up the wall and raised our eyes

To where the autumn sunlight cast a rich

 

Jewelled pattern through the old stained-glass.

I wondered why we’d come that day.

Were our motives truly estimable -

 

And were we thinking of Our Lord

Or did a memory stir, deep down

Of Gods more ancient and implacable?

 

© Dorothy Davis-Sellick 1998 onwards

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Weekly Smile – The Man Who Gave Up Sex For Golf

                    

A golfer is in a competitive match with a friend, who is ahead by a couple of strokes.

“Boy, I’d give anything to sink this putt,” the golfer  mumbles to himself.

Just then, a stranger walks up beside him and whispers, “Would you be willing to give up one-fourth of your sex life?”

 Thinking the man is crazy and his answer will be meaningless, the golfer also feels that maybe this is a good omen, so he says, “Sure,”  and sinks the putt.

Two holes later, he mumbles to himself again, “Gee, I sure would like to get an eagle on this one.”

The same stranger is at his side again and whispers, “Would it be worth giving up another fourth of your sex life?”

Shrugging, the golfer replies, “Okay.” And he makes an eagle.

On the final hole, the golfer needs another eagle to win..

 Without waiting for him to say anything, the stranger quickly moves to his side and says, “Would winning this match be worth giving up the
 rest of your sex life?”

 “Definitely,” the golfer replies, and he makes the eagle.

As the golfer is walking to the club house, the stranger walks
alongside him and says, “I haven’t really been fair with you because you don’t know who I am. I’m Satan, and from this day forward you will have no  sex life.”

“Nice to meet you, “the golfer replies, “I’m Father O’Malley.”

 

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Yay, finally we have started producing crops!

At last, after all that hard work getting moved and creating a garden, we have our first crops!

Below is the first of the Little Gem Lettuce, and very tasty they are too, I am simply picking leaves as I need them to keep the plants growing continuously, and it appears to be working well!

And here is the first of the indoor crops…..after two years and a very careful house move, voila!

Our very own pepper plant WITH FRUIT!

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MibsBlog – Spring Lambs

Further to my earlier post  HERE  about the early lambs, I thought I’d share some new photos with you all!

These are the ones you met in the earlier post…

And below are some new ones in the field behind me!

I get to watch these everyday from my office and kitchen, and they are happily eyeing up my veggie patch!

HAPPY DAYS

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