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Wednesday, 31 January 2018

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BY FIONA CUMMINGS


 Good afternoon Bloggets, gosh, it’s wild out there and so cold… OK winter, I’m done with you now, bring on the spring flowers and yolky skies. My Hub back tonight thankfully, though before he returns I hope the wind slows down for his transportation. Last night though my Son was home, I slept with the lamp on. I’m such a wimp. Obviously, I still can’t see with the light on, but I just feel better. Where did Waggatail sleep? Not in her bed like a good girl downstairs, but in her bed in Boy Wonders room. He felt sorry for her without the Little Fella. Haha. He said he woke up during the night and she was just standing there, staring at the wall. For ages… I said possibly she woke up and wasn’t sure where she was? I mean, we do that don’t we if we are used to sleeping somewhere else and we wake up in a strange environment, don’t we? Or, is that just me?

 

Well, what a strange day, after being blown to the shops and back really struggling with my hair covering my face looking as if I’m about to rob the shop with my new facial fashion, I was in the kitchen with my Son when suddenly he decided to be funny and play a very annoying song very loud and proceed to dance around the kitchen trying to get me to join in with his silly dance… (The Tea Towel Dance) very hygienic… that’s gone in the wash. Smile. When my doorbell rang playing the tune of (Midnight in Moscow) or, Moscow nights… so, the normal ten notes seemed to go on longer. Well, there I am with a glass clock in one hand, and a duster in the other slightly out of breath as my Son tried to get me to move faster than I wished to do at that time in the morning, whilst holding glass, well, hang on, at any time of the day actually, his moves were rather energetic… I placed the clock on the work top, duster next to it, ran as fast as a blind person can run with half opened doors as my Son slightly closed them to allow room for his morning activity of knocking out shapes in the kitchen… jumping over the dog bed that he’s brought from his room all in the space of knowing that one ring one person equals normally one running off back to his van and driving away with my parcel.

 

Well avoiding lethal dog toys and BW’s trainers which in themselves are the equivalent of a small coffee table. I got to the door. Rather out of breath as the thought of my dog food man driving  off wasn’t a  good one.

 

A very polite man stood there as I held out my arms to receive the dog food… oddly, not for a hug!!!

 

“Hello. I’m your taxi driver.””

Me, that’s very nice love, but I haven’t ordered one!””

Haha, well this man stayed on my doorstep for a while and the mystery was unfolded. All sorted but very strange. In so many ways. Ways that you wouldn’t understand unless you were inside of his head… oh, and mine.

 

Within seconds the bell went again. Still my Son playing this annoying song… this time he’d turned it up even louder. I could barely hear the doorbell. Was it my taxi driver back? Nope, this time it was the dog food delivery man and he announced that is who he was. So, I took the garage keys and opened the door for him to put the food directly in the garage. Locking the door, I blew back into my house. Oh, my, the noise in my house? My dog running around because someone was at the door to see her… obviously, that is the only reason I have a door, to allow people in to see her. Her bells ringing like the blooming bells of Notre dame, my Sons music of (BoomBoomBoom by the Vengaboys) I shall share that uplifting happy song at the end of this blog… and an annoying sound in the background I couldn’t quite hear what it was. Until I made my music sing to me in a lower sound. Well, it was Midnight in Moscow playing to me again… why? Who on earth was  at my door?

 

Running again to my door wishing I had pockets in my trousers to record my extra activities of the day from my iPhone health App… there was no one there. Or, was there? I said hello, as often no one answers they just stand there looking at me as if I’m not a full shilling, or a sandwich short of a picnic.

 

For my English students, a shilling is old money a former British coin and monetary unit equals to one twentieth of a pound/£ or, 12 pence!

 

Well, I had my dog food and I wasn’t expecting anyone else so again I closed the door only to hear the bell again. I unlocked the door again no voices and no way I was going to have a conversation on my doorstop with myself.

Again.

Closing the door, I hear my Son laughing in the background. Looking as if I had been dragged from a hedge backwards by an angry tiger on steroids, I not so calmly asked.

“What’s so funny Bozo?””

I often speak in loving tongue to my Son…

 

He replied. “Nice tune Mum…””

I said to him. “Take your finger off the box””

 Our doorbell is without wires and you just plug the box in the wall… Then I realised he was still in the kitchen and that isn’t where our plug to our bell is, so I went to the bell Son still laughing… well, what was going on? I went back to the door and pressed my bell, you know, to ring it? And have you know, it stopped… I really should go back out and see if it will ring again? Why it had a meltdown moment, I don’t know… Reason why I thought it was my Boy Wonder, is because he’s a prankster.

 

Last night Sham was on the scales trying to get weighed. She almost died when she saw her weight… she screamed in fear as if they were right, she would have put on a couple of stone and would have been about four stone overweight for her height. Then she shouted at Boy Wonder as he laughed… he got the scales out for her as for some reason she asked him to do so, he placed them on the floor and rather than leave go, without her seeing, he kept his fingers on them pushing them down. Hahahahahaha. Now that is so funny but Sham didn’t see the funny side.

 

Previous to that we all sat around our dining table and had a nice chat. I just love the dinner table. It means so much to me. The meaning of a table is one of faith thankfulness and family. Faith because we should always be grateful we have food on our table, be thankful for those around it and hopefully that will be our family even there are three of us with Hub BW and myself, and in the future, I hope to extend that family to grandchildren. The table is a focus point where people talk. Sometimes in this horrible world, it’s the only time we get chance to talk to our kids.

 

So, here is the link to that tune that is guaranteed to get your toes tapping. Just don’t dance with a glass clock in your hands. And, it wasn’t quite like this in our kitchen… but the sound was better quality, smile.

 

 

https://mashable.com/2017/06/06/vengaboys-street-party-cheltenham/#b_CPiRsBlaqj

   

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