I know ye are all wondering why I haven't told ye all about
me holidays. Well I have been in a very dark place since I got back- yes I been
locked in the cupboard under the feckin stairs again. Note to self ; ask mines
Mr Husband to buy me a new cupboard under the stairs as current one has been
filled to full capacity with ironing. Needs mines little sister (the one with
the issues and the day confusion) to come and do mines ironing. She likes
ironing. Anyways I am out of cupboard now- I was forced out by the ironing
board in t'end. So do ye want to know what I got up to?Of course ye do- so yer goes me ol' babbers.
T'was a nice manor we stayed at- it had a lovely welsh dresser for
all me ornaments and nails in the walls for me pictures. See I told ye all I needed to take
me ornaments. Fortunately I did sneak a few in when Mines Mr Husband wasn't
looking. The bed was lumpy. I tell ye before I am like the princess and the
pea. If some buggar has peed in a bed before me I know. One was too hard. One
was too soft. And there wasn't one just right. And same goes for beds. I know
how feckin Goldilocks felt now- poor cow. Noah knocked three times for his
furniture back- but T'was clean enough I guess for someone like me with OCD. I
did take me own cleaning stuff though. Took mines Poor old Mr Husband six trips
up and down to unpack the car and eight when we was leaving!
We walked over hill and over dale, up and down the cliffs
and many steps. Mines poor, poor feckin hips- never knowed now't like it in
thems little lives. But T'was all to see some breathtaking scenery and I am
officially in love with it- all over again. Infact if I ever have to choose
betwixt Cornish Cliff and mines Mr Husband tis going to be a tight choice I can
tell ye. He best just hope I am never forced to choose at a time when he is
getting on me piggin nerves. At one time, ye never guess what I did on the
cliff top- I actually went beyond a sign that said 'DO NOT GO BEYOND THIS
POINT'. Tis true I feckin did. And it felt great. I was being rebellious. More
rebellious than putting a teabag in the wrong recycling bin. Mines Mr Husband
was shocked. He thought I would fall. Still he was the one who went and sat
like a cockle on a rock way too high.
We photographed this and we photographed that. I took 1000
pictures on mines camera and then I took another 400 on mines phone! Sometimes
I even wandered away from mines Mr Husband. Yep I did. I was a real dare devil
on mines holidays. I photographed a kestrel above mines head and bull in a
field. Dozens of rocks and much water and many waves and hundreds of boats. But
I loved every minute of it.
One day whilst we was there T'was our 6th wedding
anniversary. Mines Mr Husband hadn't got me nothing just yet but I didn't cry
or nuffin. I got him a Terry Pratchett book and then we went out all day- that
must have been torture for him (not that I bought him a book- the fact he had
to leave whilst we went out) so I think we are even. We found a nice little
cafe in a campsite. I ordered a cream tea. T'was two heart shaped, freshly
baked scones. So fresh they was warm. The nice person who brought them to me
said 'shall ye be sharing these?' -( I really don't know what all this sharing
stuff is all about!) Mines Mr husband was just about to say Yes- when I grabbed
the plate and glared at him and then at her 'No we feckin shan't' I said 'He
can get his own'. And I tell ye I ate them both. And I didn't even feel guilty.
Not even sick. 'Put your top back on please' mines Mr Husband said 'Tis rude of
ye to be topless in this nice little cafe'. I explained I didn't want to get
jam and cream on me best tee shirt. He said 'but ye will ruin ye nipples- put
them away before ye gets arrested- again'. Then mines Mr Husband took me to
Newquay. Newquay has special memories for me of happy times with mines little
children when we all lived together and we was happy. We wandered round and
round photographing this and photographing that. T'was a happy day and I kept
thinking about the scones. Infact I have thought about them scones every day
since I got home. I can't get the image of thems scones outta me head I tell ye. I think I am becoming
pastry dependant. And I am supposed to be pastry intolerant if truth be known
but it happens to menopausal woman this pastry dependency. It shows no
consideration for ye intolerances. Ye also become intolerant to fools (of the
people variety not the gooseberry variety) and bullshit. Apparently. I also
managed to find, much to my excitement, a couple of dead pheasants at the side
of the road. I was going to give these to mines Mr Husband for his anniversary
also. He said he didn't want them and he would make do with a cheese toasty.
Then I got quite excited because I seen a weasel. This is the first time I have
seen a real weasel. Ever. 'What it is it?' I asked mines Mr Husband. 'Tis a
weasel mines little fruitcake', he said. 'I will get it thee for our
anniversary', I offered. 'But tis dead', he said. T'was true, it was a weasel
that had already popped. But nevertheless if its the first time ever you have
seen one tis still exciting. Mines Mr Husband said he didn't want it. But I
have decided that Cornwall
not only offers the best scenery ever it also has the best presents ever- even
if they are dead. Dead is good because tis money saving. Down yer in Devon we only get dead mice and dead blackbirds. Oh and
the odd old welly.
We went to Padstow. T'was there I spotted a cake shop. I was
cooing- face glued to glass. 'Get thee behind me Satan' I said. He did. Then he
pushed me right feckin in. It was a cake shop that belong to a certain
celebrity chef. I eyed up a pair of delicious looking meringues filled with
cream. Mines Mr Husband was going to buythem for me. Then he looked at the
price tag of £6.50 each and turn'd me round to face the door again- a bit
sharpish if you ask me. Made me quite giddy. Think he was trying to erase me
memory. He do sometimes think he is Superman. It would take more than Superman
to make me forget a pair of meringues like that. No meringues for me from
there. Told ya he pisses on me chips. And now he is pissing on me meringues. Can't
get the image of they meringues outta me head I tell ye. Then we went to the
beach. I found mines Mr Husband a nice bit of cuttlefish. I told him it would
be good to sharpen his beak or something on . He threw it back in the sea. I
could have give that to a budgie. Mines Mr Husband pointed to a sign that said
you couldn't take things of this beach. I put a couple of pebbles in me pocket
because I was in a rebellious mood on this holiday. There wasn't any shells but
T'was a lucky thing I happened to take me own shells on this holiday. Ye never
know what thee's going to need on these yer holidays. Nowhere is ever equipped
properly in these days of austerity.
We seen David Stow- the bloke who makes the cheese. Well we
didn't se him Exactly. We seen the place that was named after his cheese. We
seen Michael Stow his brother and Jacob Stow his father.
I asked mines Mr Husband if we could go back because tis
mines favourite place Cornwall.
He asked why. I said because they like my baps. Tis true. He said 'how do thee
know that mines little pumpkin?'. I said 'well when we went there it said
Welcome Careful Cornwall drivers and girls with Nice Baps'. (Ye can google Nice
Baps in Cornwall
if ye likes and ye will see what I mean!). He said 'I think you have many signs
mixed up there mines little fruitcake- but I see your points'. He is always looking
at my feckin points. Anyways I can only go if I say sorry to some peoples -
again!!
I must render apologies to
The men dressed in orange suits with the little orange boat
on the beach for pretending I was drowning naked in order for them to rescue
me- three times.
The woman jogger on the cliff top- I shouldn't have said 'ye
needs to jog a bit faster and harder to shift that fat off ye arse Mrs'.
Personally, if she hadn't stopped to give me a gob full, I think she might not
have lost her footing and she could well be alive today. Sorry about that.
Jogging be dangerous I tell ye.
The screamy kid with the bucket stuck on his head- sorry
about that- but ye do look marginally better and it did stop ye screaming for a
bit. Tis not my fault ye got sticky out ears and I had to jam it on really hard
to fit 'em in. Nice spade by the way. Using it in me garden at home now.
To the woman I pinched the meringue from in Padstow- ye just
don't know the trouble I had to go to get that out of thee hand. Lot of sneaking up on thee. I ain't got 320 vision like a
feckin seagull ye know. Had to take me chances where I could and I was verily
tormented by ye licking that in front of me. And to be fair you didn't need it-
ye got enough feckin fat to be dealin with there ye do.
To that little girl - It was wrong of me to snaffle thee
candy floss, but T'was really bad for a little girl to have so much candy
floss. I told ye before- all ye teeth will fall out and your nipples will go
green and the boys won't want thee.
The man with the hand gliding thingy on top of cliff that I
gave a little push too. How the feck was I supposed to know ye wasn't ready-
thee didn't say ye wasn't yet attached to ye doofer watsit. Ye silly old fool
(dead fool- Rest in Peace Chap).
The young girl in the gift shop in front of me for givin
thee a wedgie and making thee scream. Ye shouldn't wear thongs a) too small and
b) showing over thee jeans.
That be it- I surely ain't apologising to the rest. I just
hope that somebody dug out they three kids that I buried in the sand up to
their necks before the tide comes in.
Final note- I am still trying to work out why that woman
came into the museum and asked that man that strange question 'Excuse me, do
you mind if I wash me hands up your little back passage?'. More curious was his
answer ' not at all- go right ahead'. Made my day you two peoples did. Just
glad I didn't watch.
So there ye goes folks. That was a snippet of mines holidays
for ye.
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