Recycling, Nunny balancing and Wasp Nests!

 Been wondering where I been at for two weeks- being adventerous and what not as usual. Here's the latest round up for me fans. I did lose a follower in the week. Bit careless but I think it was the spy from the Russian BFG so all is good!

Friday: We are having new recycling thingy here. We will be allowed to recycle cardboard at last. We have nice big bags issued. Its says put your address on it- gives you a space even. Then it says wash and squash. Mines Mr Husband says 'are you putting the address on it'. 'Too feckin right' I says. I know what they are like round here. I will be conscientious (ooo-er looking me using big words), and I will be washing and squashing and squashing and washing and thems dirty fecker round yer won't be washing and squashing. Then when thems bags are all dirty and stinky they will be swapping for mine- washed and squashed, squashed and washed'. He thinks it won't happen but I remind him of Wheelie Bin Gate- Our bin was stolen from under his nose! Thats why we take it turns of a night to sit outside and guard the new bin! I don't want the same scenario with my new conscientiously (oooo-er twice now) washed and squashed bag! No siree!!

Sunday: I been up the Tesco today already. All the neighbours still sleeping. 'Why, Beth, on a Saturday, on Beths naked, dancing and sing-a-long with Elvis day are ye at Tescos?' I hear ye all ask. Well tis true I gives it a wide berth on a Saturday. Tis usually too peoply but Mr Husband needs food for his shift. He is actually covering this month for Fat Slimy Git who steals other peoples promotions! He is holidaying in Africa. I hope he gets too close to something hungry. A hippo or something. And talk about rubbing salt and pepper and vinegar and tomato sauce into the wound!! Mr Husband will do it though cos he does as he is told. Mostly. Anyways they don't expect me on a Saturday up there. I am glad I went now. They was playing 'Wrecking Ball'. And you know what that means guys. It means strip off and grab the nearest space hopper. So I did. I had soooo much fun. I got off with a caution! Not off  the space hopper- off the public disorder fence. I caught them right off guard this time. Then, my friend from the Toy Cupboard Kathy was operating at the checkout. She said 'I am not your friend Kathy- stop grabbing me and kissing me- my name is Trudi'. She pointed to her badge. To be fair it did say Trudi but that can be anybodys badge. Namely Trudi's.  I worked in morrisons. I used to borrow Bens badge. You just gotta have a badge on. So I think Kathy just borrowed Trudi's badge to throw me off the scent. Then she tried to throw me off the scent by talking to me about her ironing. I thought- 'hmmm- this don't sound like Kathy'. Then she said she hated ironing. That just convinced me it was Kathy. She told me her husband goes to work naked. Well what she said was he didn't wear shirts. So I think he goes naked. She also said she need  her chair higher cos she is short ass. Then I knew for definite it was Kathy. I still hugged her before Mr Husband dragged me out the shop. I am not allowed to go to her checkout again. Insert sad face here.

 

 Monday:So Gwyneth Paltrow is into putting rocks in her noo noo to balance her chakras and help her meditate. In my book this is no no. With my bulldog grip this means sudden release I have killed half a dozen passers-by, four cats and a budgie. And knocked a policemans hat off. Also messes with your Ying and Yang someat chronic.The other latest craze I hear is to insert a wasps nests into your noo noo (although it does burn for a while apparently) to tighten it up. Well the very thoughts of it makes me do that. Please don't try it home. No- do it in the open air in the country side where no one can hear you scream!!! I am no Doctor Christian but what I say is Pelvic floor exercises all the way ladies- as per my advertisement on 'This Morning' show. SAY NO TO ROCKS AND WASPS NESTS!!!

Saturday: Mines Mr Husband and I been discussing our wills and stuff. We do from time to time. A little review because we are happy to talk about death and stuff. We are also sensible. I also get anxious about being left alone and no way of surviving. Anyways turns out he is worth more dead than alive. Tis true. On an entirely un-related subjected how many ways are there to dispose of a corpse?

 TUESDAY: Me, Bob and Elvis been for a little adventure on our own. We found the garden centre. I was so excited to have actually found it I nearly drove right out again. Also nearly peed my pants with excitement. But having no spare ones with me decided against it. However, coming home Bob got me and Elvis lost and we went goodness knows where and to be honest I thought Bobs driving was a bit erratic and left a bit to be desired. He even clipped the kerb coming out of the garden centre and nearly tipped us up. Good job we didn't go topless. He has now parked very wonky on the drive. I think thats enough excitement for one day!! Poor old Elvis is all shook up!

Wednesday: WD40 was cheap in Tesco for a massive tin. So I said to mines Mr Husband 'buy one, tis good fer yer nuts when they go rusty'. So he bought one. At the checkout the good looking young man who was checkout operating my shopping looked at it. I said 'tis good value and tis good for yer rusty nuts'. He said he didn't have rusty nuts. I said 'Let me check'. That was all I said - well and I did get behind the conveyer with him. And I may have been a bit too much hands on. Anyways thats me not allowed in Tesco again!

Mines Mr Husband said to me 'Why have you got this big pack of sausages out my little pickle'. He can be a nosy fecker. 'Cos I am doing Cock o van for tea'. He said 'what, with sausages?'. I said 'Duh- Cock- tis the nearest thing I can find that's similar'. Honestly no imagination when cooking that man. (Especially since I banned Worcester Sauce- read the booky peoples).

Oh I did panick this morning when I looked in the mirror -'OMFG'- I cried in distress- 'My face is swollen over night'. Mines Mr Husband comes running. 'No, pickle' he said- 'You have the magnify mirror there- turn it over'. Phew! Thank feck for that. I thought someone had pumped me up whilst I had been asleep.

Tursday: When we was in Cornwall mines Mr Husband said 'Look a shop just selling Ice cream. Would you like one?' I never pass the opportunity by to have one. No not me. Or an Ice cream. He said 'look, 31 flavours fresh from Marshfield Farm' it says. 'Which one do you like'. Well I says 'Not, the freshly made Hay, or the Cow Pat or the Pig Swill'.  I settled for Black Cherry. Who knew Black Cherry was a farm flavour?

We went on the Ferry when we was in Cornwall- to get from one side to other. I said to Mines Mr Husband 'Wasn't I a good girl? I wasn't sick, or panicky and I didn't pee me pants'- he said 'Well to be fair there wasn't time, we was only on two minutes. It's called Roll on, Roll off'. I told him -hmmm- I have had men like that. I didn't know it applied to ferrys as well. You lives and learns so you do.

Time for a Beths hot top tit. If ye are menopausal (I am don't ya know)- or a hot man even, I can highly recommend a convertible (Car that is not man- although given the right one..............). Top off,  bombing along the motorway at high speed (no more than 70 of course- what kinda law breaker do ya think I am?) and having a sing- along with Elvis. Can't beat it for cooling yer hot bits down!

Too many pussies, tits and Chewbacca

Ye probably all thinks I been gone into hiding this week but I am still here.  Been watching me tits bouncing round Mines Mr Husbands fat balls all the week and trying to keep the pussies under control. I tell ye its a full time job.

Chewbacca been arrested in Ukraine for campaigning for Darth Vadar to be prime minister- then they wonders why the country is a mess. They need Darth Vadar for prime minister. Ye can't trust that Putin blokey. He puts mine teeth on edge.

I have noticed the aeroplanes here do get very low- they'd turn mines blood to lamp oil so they do. Mines Mr Husband says that we do live next door to the airport and they have to get that low to land. 'What ye want them to do? Drop from the sky onto the tarmac?'  he asked. 'Yes,' I said , 'that would be preferable'. I have written a letter to the airport suggesting this. If I don't get a response I will have to get in touch with my MP Hugo doodah spires or whatever.

Mines mother rang to tell me she had been to Dunelm for nets. She found some for 48p. T'was a bargain I pointed out- apart from how much it costs in petrol to travel a round trip of 50miles. Then she said she felt so guilty for only spending 48p that she grabbed some other things by the checkout (that she didn't either need or want) just so as Dunelm wouldn't think she was a meanie drawers. I said 'mines mother, it is ok to go in and spend a small amount. It is even ok, (apparently- according to mines Mr Husband) to go in and spend nothing- although very very difficult'. Level of difficulty suggested 11.5 out of 10, but I did it once. But only cos I was poorly.

Mid week I suggested to Mines Mr Husband that we go on our holidays again to relive the love that I had for that holiday. He said we could only go for the day. I was so excited. He made me unpack the suitcase, including the bath mats and the ornaments. He said was only going for a feckin day and we wouldn't need all that stuff this time. I still sneaked in spare knickers and trousies though- well just in case. We climbed the cliffs again and I asked him if he wanted to climb the special high one (for old times sake)- the one that makes him look like a cockle on a rock. He declined. Instead he suggested he take me down the side of the cliff. Well ye know what I am like for being taken- always open to suggestions and new ideas. So we did a daring thing and climbed down the side of one. One cliff that is, not one idea. In all the excitement mines Mr Husband went surging ahead. I only went a little way and then I chanced to look down. I frozed. That girl in frozen had nowt on me I tell ye. I couldn't move. I was like the men that the grand old Duke of York had. I was neither up nor down. And I couldn't go either up nor down. I stood rooted to the spot. There was no way to move sideways and twerking weren't an option for there weren't enough room.. I thought 'Oh ye gods if I fall down there I shall surely break me camera'. And tis a good camera is that. Eventually a kindly woman coaxed me back to the top with some chocolate cake. She also made me put mines clothes back on. Mines Mr Husband was going on down to the bottom- until it got very tricky and then asked me if I wanted to go back down to meet him and fetch the car keys- in case he didn't make it. I said 'not on yer feckin Nelly I won't. I would sooner stick pins in me eyes and walk home than come back down there. There is chocolate cake up yer'. So I left him to it. 'Ye a silly old fool', I shouted from a safe distance. I didn't think he would chase me cos to be fair I had a head start on him.  I don't think we are cut out for that kind of adventure. We be too old I told him. It's played havoc with me dodgy hip and me feets and legs are fair knackered.

I did lay down on the top of the cliff to take some photographs. 'What ye doing down there fruitcake?' mines Mr Husband' asked. 'Why?, what's it gotta do with thee?' I asked. He paused. Then he said 'Nuffin. It's just ye are laid in cow pat'.  He had a point. I Told him to put his point away - we didn't all wanna see that thing in daylight. Then he took me on the beach-I tell ye he will take me anywhere that man. T'was very busy- peoples having holidays all over the beach and peoples surfing. I didn't like the beach being so cluttered with peoples. So I shouted shark- look shark- a few times- sharks do live in the water in Cornwall don't ye know. That emptied the place. We was able to enjoy the beach to ourselves- me and him and the shark.

When we got home I took all mines clothes off and got in the bath. That's how we roll in this house. And bath. I even put water in the bath.  Oh yes, we knows how to live it up in this house. Then mines Mr Husband called up all excited 'Ye books have arrived, ye books have arrived from New York'. I was so excited I flapped around in the bath like a flappy thing on a flappy day in the bath full of water. I am muchly pleased because they weren't going to arrive until xmas. Impressed I am. Have ye not bought yet? Quick get yeself over to Amazon and order ye copy.

Finally this week learned that twerking is soooo last year. Oh noooooooooooo! I likes me twerking I do. It's all about whipping your nae nae now- sounds too painful for me to even contemplate. Don't be telling mines Mr Husband though- he shall be wanting to give it a go half way down a cliff side. Oh and very lastly tis all excitement in this house. Tonight is the pumpkin party at the village hall. Mines Mr Husband has entered me. In the Pumpkin party (ye dirty minded feckers). He told them 'Mines Mrs Wifey is a pumpkin- a little pickled- but she will do a nice twerk for ye'. I might not. I might just go and whip me nae nae.

A cornish Affair, Creamed Nipples and Candy Floss

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.