Ironing, vacuuming and weapons of mass destruction

A couple of weeks ago a local rough and ready (but still canny) farmhand from across the Hope Valley called into our place to deliver a trailer of logs for the wood burner. He happened to catch me in the middle of doing the family ironing. No big deal I thought. 

Just this morning, he called again with a second delivery of logs ..... and this time caught me with the vacuum cleaner in my hand. 

The look of ‘olde world’ disgust on his face was a picture. 

“Look here mate .... I know what you are thinking .... but letting Mecannylass loose with an electric iron and a Dyson when she is suffering from hot flushes is like distributing weapons of mass destruction to some Third World Dictator“ 

I could tell the farmhand still couldn't understand. Bless him.

When you're in love with a beautiful woman .....

Don’t get me wrong; I never mind Mecannylass joining me on my daily constitutional around the lanes of our place; but more often than not she can’t resist breaking into a bloody lengthy country dweller’s soliloquy whenever she comes across a bunch of awe struck visiting ramblers. 

So when we were stopped the other day by a Canadian hiker with his predictable sugary drawl, “Gee, living in this Peak District of yours must be like being married to an exquisitely beautiful woman” I was fearful of Mecannylass’ response. 

“Aye, Mountie” she snapped back ...... and looking mischievously across at me, seamlessly added, .....

“ What’s it like being a bigamist Mecannylad?”

How posh is that ?

Mecannylad has just had a letter from our local Town Council here in the Peak District explaining that they have awarded the refuse collection contract for our particular village to a new company.

The letter was signed by the ‘Head of Portfolios  for Service Transformation and Organisational Development’ 

How posh is that ?

Knobheads.

Slave to Sell-by-Dates

Whenever she's at the Supermarket Mecannylass is a slave to sell-by-dates ..... she's always creating havoc by scouring at the back of the displays looking for the freshest items..... leaving chaos in her wake.

"Shut up will you.It's for the good of your health" she keeps telling me. 

Mecannylad even caught her ditching a full pack of six toilet rolls the other day just because they were within a few days of their sell-by-date. 

My arse ..... what has the modern world come to with sell-by-dates for bog rolls in the first place ?

Mecannylad, OCD ? .... whatever makes you think that ?

The meanest tosser in Christendom

Got to tell you about this bloke down our lane. What a mean bugger he is. Mecannylad can't quite believe it. 

Anyway, this fella uses this particular property mainly as his weekend cottage. It has a bit of a garden where he hangs up bird feeders and such things. 

I suppose he likes the sound and the fluttering of the blue tits and robins when he is in occupation..... Fair enough. 

Before he leaves on a Sunday evening though ...... he takes the bloody things down and puts them in his garden shed !

Tosser.

A degree of certainty

My globetrotting neighbour Hugo was the centre of attention in the village pub this afternoon. You see, he had just got back from a stint of working in India and was gagging for a good natter and a decent pint of beer or two with some good company.

I had to laugh..... he said that the thing he had been looking forward to most since returning home was being able to have a dry fart with some degree of certainty.

I wonder ?

Mecannylad is staring with wonderment at a fabulously crisp winter's morning unfolding here in the glorious Peak District ......

..... and thinking  .....

..... is a right-angled triangle likely to have a square on its hypotenuse ..... I mean .... in real life ?

Keep Calm and P*** Off.

The downside of living in such a beautiful part of the world is that every local shop and cafe - no matter how big or small - have been cramming their shelves with meaningless and less than useless gifts and crafts.

The latest craze is seemingly to emblazon the wartime buzz words 'Keep Calm and Carry On' on anything and everything ....... the damn phrase is bloody everywhere. On tin signs, on tea-towels, on toilet rolls, on cups, on doormats, on postcards, on plant pots ......

Please  ...... Keep Calm and P*** Off won't you .... and think of something else to put on your trashy trinkets.

Still puffed up with post Olympic self importance.

It’s three long months or so since the London Olympics yet there is still no letting up here in the Peak District. You can’t get moved for pack after pack of fat-arsed pedallers done up like C&A mannequins in their Lycra and Chamois leather.

No matter where Mecannylad ventures, you see them; straddling the centre line markings, riding two abreast, sucking out of their hydration feeders and fiddling with their ipods.

Don’t get me wrong – cycling is great ..... you help the planet, you keep fit and you save on taxes... but best of all, you are apparently completely free to ignore the rules of the road that apply to all other highway users.

I hope you all get a bloody double puncture .