A Tax rose is but a rose by any other name

Socialise and chat about other areas of your life
635 posts
Sajehar, I hate plastic boxes or any container full of RUSTY screws as with rusty tools of which there were plenty! Along with an old clapped out lawnmower, a different grass box, a pink damp ottoman, and so it goes, on and on and on lol.2 skips already been filled, and another one needed. I'm considering trying the skip or hippo bags, cheaper and no time limit.
I haven't been wasteful. Kept things that aren't rusty.

Just for you; a plastic box full of bits & bobs, as my dad calls them. Admittedly only a few of the screws are rusty.
I’ve no idea what a hippo bag is. Bet they’re a lot cheaper than skips though. If you’ve thrown away two skip loads already that’s some achievement and a half.
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We’ve had no land line or internet for over 24 hours. SM rang me about 2pm yesterday to tell me that half of North Wales, Cheshire and Merseyside who were on Sky were ‘down’.
Dad and me hadn’t even noticed that our land line was dead, and therefore no internet. It came back on sometime this afternoon. Nobody seems to have any idea why it went down and why for so long.

Anyway, SM’s dad is now doing really fine and SM is taking him for a posh meal tomorrow in some country house on the Lynn Peninsular for Father’s Day. Me and my bro’s will be taking dad for a meal at Wetherspoon’s. Only kidding!
We’re taking him to a terrific pub with ace sea views. I don’t normally go along with all that Mother’s/Father’s Day commercial nonsense, but I’m making an exception this year as it might be his last. I even bought a card :ohmy:

Talking of cards, I must have dropped off about 500 of Carers UK’s ones to various charity shops as part of Carers Week. I even wore my CUK ‘Ambassadors’ badge even though I’m not one anymore. I thought a badge would add cache to my demeanour. It’s done now, so CUK can’t wallop me for taking their name in vain.

But here’s the funny thing. ALL the charity shops in my dad’s townlet accepted them happily: The Red Cross, Age UK, the Animal Sanctuary and the Cottage Hospital.

But when I dropped my dad off at his optician’s yesterday, several miles away, I went round 9 charity shops there. But only 4 would accept them. The rest said their ‘bosses’ wouldn’t have other charities stuff in their shops.
Since when did volunteers have ‘bosses’? Managers yes, but bosses? I have a manager at the hedgehog hospital, but noways is she my ‘boss.’
And surely the whole point of ‘charity’ is that it helps people, including one another. I could understand it if they didn’t have space on their counter for the cards. Fair do’s. But a ‘Policy’ of only promoting themselves? Even when that charity is related to carers like a hospice or holistic cancer one.
Most of the volunteers were embarrassed to tell me this; some even took the cards anyway and said they’d hide them when the ‘boss’ comes in. Some ‘boss’. If I were a volunteer in their shop I’d tell him/her to sling their hook and walk out.

This ‘policy’ doesn’t even seem to be consistent. There are two Age Uk’s in this townlet. One happily accepted them, the other one wouldn’t as ‘the boss’ wouldn’t approve.

Cancer Research UK – the one I’m doing a fun run for – were the worst, along with Scope. Didn’t work though, as customers in both places waiting to be served asked for my cards, and wanted to know all about Carers UK. I happily obliged whilst getting dagger looks from the volunteers.
Good Grief! When did charity become a bloody competition? It’s just plain stupid.

The same thing happened in SM’s townlet today. Out of 8 charity shops, only 4 accepted them. The same ‘boss won’t like it’ excuse.

Just who are these people ‘running’ these charities with such anti-charity policies? They need sacking.

I fail to see why I’ve paid £20 to enter a fun run, raised a load of dosh for Cancer Research before I’ve even ran the bloody thing, and their CEO gets paid £250,000 a year for what?
A so-called ‘policy’ that stops other charities from advertising themselves… at nobody elses expense. What planet are these people living on?

I now regret getting my family to sponsor me online for the fun run. If it had been an old fashioned sponsorship form, were you collected the money afterwards, I’d now be tearing it up, and stuff Cancer Research.

I’m still going to run/walk it…. I’ve paid for the bloody thing. But I’m going to send a polite, but firmly worded, email to Cancer Research explaining why I’ll never fun run for them again, and why I’ll be boycotting their shops in future.
The same with Scope, various hospices and the Salvation Army. I won’t mention Carers Uk in my email, which I won’t write/send until I’ve calmed down.
I decided to test run my outfit for the fun run early this morning and try out my idea for my water bottle. I did this early as it would be nice and cool. It was so hot yesterday afternoon I still stuck to walking. I’d walked fast an awful lot of late as part of my ‘training’ because of my dodgy knee, but no actual speed marching.

Just as well I did because the bright pink kecks SM had bought me during his charity shop splurge are too big for me. They’re fine when just walking around, but when I was half way down the cinder path this happened:

Cyclist: Nice arse, love. You’ve just made my day.

Me: What?

My pink fun run trousers were about to fall down, already exposing my bum. Thank god I hadn’t gone out commando. I was concentrating so hard on breathing properly (bloody hard to do) that I hadn’t even noticed.

Whilst I was pulling them back up again (I was so embarrassed) the cheeky git then asked me out for a date. I told him I was engaged otherwise I might have accepted. He told me to accept anyway. I told him, politely but firmly, to f..k off. He told me he’d love too and handed me his business card!

If SM ever bins out on me I just might give this bloke a ring. He’s a quantity surveyor, whatever that is?

I’ll still wear these trousers for just pootling about as they’re lovely kecks but I’ll have to get some new second-hand ones for the fun run. But NOT from the charity shops I’m boycotting.

However, my idea to shove my water bottle between my tits worked beautifully. My 2nd sports bra from Aldi (the first one was actually from Primark) is so extreme with so many straps it held in in place really well WITHOUT interfering with my speed marching. This means I can now attempt to tackle various obstacles on the fun run and still have my water.

I cannot believe the amount of things involved in just a bit of fun running. It’s a logistical nightmare. All I want is to get a bit fitter. But even my breathing is wrong, which I’ve been doing since I was born for god’s sake!

Apart from sorting out jiggling tits (sorted) bouncing bum bags (sorted) water bottles (sorted) breathing properly (working on it) wonky knees (I hope that’s sorted) trousers that stay up (about to be sorted)… I think that’s enough.
Sajehar,you do cheer me up. Ever thought of penning the ups and downs of your life and finding a publisher?
Oh, by the way, thanks for the photo of the container of bits and bobs. I can see they are in a saved plastic box that had another life. I think I'm developing a phobia about them , Really useful boxes bought for purpose, great, but not butter tubs etc. They are now a NO no NO!
Not going to order a hippo bag. To much faff. Another skip may be needed. Oh Lord, but needs must.
Sorry if taking your thread.
It's strange, I don't have any problems with blank posts now, except for replying to yours?? I have to re submit my details in the user control panel.
Talking of phobias - no, Pet66, you are NOT taking over my thread; I look forward to your replies - I've been offered to do an 'animal husbandry' course. But I hate - am utterly terrified- of birds. The only way I wanted to work at the hedgehog sanctuary is BECAUSE it's only hedgehogs... no blasted birds!

So I'm turning it down. Plus, I think someone younger should have it, not me.

I'm happy cleaning out cages, even learning how to inject them with water, but not ANYTHING to do with birds.

I don't hate birds; they just terrify me.

Phobias are weird. A dead bird can't actually harm you.... But they scare the shit out of me!
I don't like dead birds either! Especially when the neighbours cat has left them for me to clear up. Not a phobia as such, but each time I go into the garden I'm on the lookout. As said in another thread, it's a pretty cat, but so so obnoxious lol. Stares at me as if to say, go on, spray or shoo me if you dare.( Spell checker changed it to shoot, but I'm not that anti lol)
Talking of birds, they have two at hubby's home. George and Mildred, but it's been discovered that George should be Georgina! What a racket they make, and either the residents are oblivious to them, or some get cross with them. One man, actually spits at them sometimes. Poor birds, I don't feel it was such a good idea to have them.?

If I ever end up in a care home they’d better not have birds there. I made a total prat of myself once when me and a friend went to visit his mum.
I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking my coffee, minding my own business when I saw this budgie wondering around the floor.
I screamed, dropped my cup, and leapt on top of my chair cowering…. Just like in films when women do that because of a mouse.
His mum was really confused explaining to me that he was really old and had arthritis. Like that made a difference? It could’ve had cancer of its feathers for all I cared. In the end she had to scoop it up and put it back in its cage.

As for computers, I’ve no idea what this means, “It's strange, I don't have any problems with blank posts now, except for replying to yours?? I have to re submit my details in the user control panel.”
But then I am a bit of a computer numpty.

Any road up, had ace meal with dad today. One of my bro’s binned out (the unreliable one) so I rang Mr B (my befriendee) to join us instead.
He prevaricated not wanting to intrude on a family occasion. I told him that was bollocks and then convinced him to come by appealing to the cheap skate in him. (I’m one too according to SM, so I knew what I was doing.)
I pointed out that this pub did ‘two for the price of one’ meals, so a meal for three would cost the same as for four. He then agreed, as I knew he would.

It was such a glorious Mediterian (spell checker says meditation) type day that everyone was wearing shorts, summer dresses, etc. But Mr B turned up in his Sunday best complete with tie. He looked very dapper actually; normally he’s more scruffy than me…. And that takes some doing!

I’d also warned everyone he was a right miserable, cantankerous ald git. To my surprise he was really gregarious, friendly and insisted on buying the drinks. Pity I was only drinking water with a slice of lemon, as I’d love to have seen the expression on his face if I’d ordered champagne.

He actually did, but not for me. After the meal and coffees, we went on a bit of a pub crawl. The pubs were full of people wearing green or orange tee shirts. I asked them what had they been doing? A half marathon on behalf of the local cancer charity was the answer. So I told them about the fun run I was going to do.

Mr B : You never told me about that.

Me: You never asked.

Mr B: How can I ask you about something I never knew about?

Me: Good point.

Mr B: Well I’d like to sponsor you.
Me: I’d rather you didn’t as I’m boycotting them.

Mr B: You’re boycotting a charity you’re doing a fun run for?

Me: Yes. I’ll tell you what; see those two old ladies over there with the orange tee shirts on? Why don’t you buy them a drink with the money you want to spend on the sponsorship I don’t want. They deserve it. They’ve just ran 10 miles, all I’m doing is 5 kilometres assuming I can manage it.

He did too, ordering them a bottle of champagne. He got the barman to send a note over too, and got nattering to them. I think I may have inadvertently been a match maker today.

Either way, two old ladies – hats off to them – got a bottle of champagne and the CEO of Cancer Research did not get any more sponsorship from me.

As for SM, he can’t be at my fun run because I gave him the wrong dates. I did too. I told him it was the middle of July at Aintree Race Course; it isn’t. I forgot to tell him of my change of plans.
He’s a fanatic for diaries and things. I’m not, apart from hospital appointments and stuff… Opps!

Instead he’s walking up Snowdonia or something. We had a bit of an argument about it.

SM: Why can’t you use a diary properly? I booked us in for this because I thought you’d like to see Snowdonia at sunrise.

Me: I would actually (I would too.) But why the hell did you presuppose….

SM: I presupposed nothing. I was going by your dates.

Me: I’m sure this can be worked out….

I’m not so sure it can. He’s awful mad at me…. He now reminds me of what he was like as a teenager; a bullying big brother to his sister. I tried to make her stand up to him, but she never did.

I hated him, and chucked him into a load of rose bushes donkey’s years ago. He tried to kiss me and those rose bushes came in very handy.

But I wish he’d kiss me now.

Why do I like this diary ridden freak pain in the arse so much? I did fancy him as a teenager but he was so cold.
SM has just given me the biggest insult ever… I remind him of my mum.

I’ve nothing against my mum…..

But I have a 1,000 mile stare… apparently.

Me: I do not.

SM: You do.

He sent me an email to prove it. I must admit I like this Russian bloke – even though he’s German and a fake – but those ‘gypsy eye things’ are too much.

I can't quite manage the link.

I’m paled-eyed for a start????

But I do like this photo of mum (am I obsessed with her? You don’t even want to know what the spell checker said.)

Here’s the photo of mum looking seriously pissed off trying to look like a starlet.

She does look beautiful… but I just know she was clenching her teeth about those ear-rings.



I've got a thing about ear rings. Those gorgeous ones dad got for mum in Rio de Janiro hurt like hell. SM and me have resolved our latest argument, but he didn’t much like my solution to wearing ear rings, but it worked… So stuff SM.

SM: You didn’t.

Me: I bloody well did..

SM: You put those ear rings on with super glue?

Me: Why not? It was developed as a stick people together thing in Vietnam hospitals.

SM: But how do you get them off again?

Me: Simple… super glue remover. I’d have thought you knew about that…

He didn’t…. oh, well???
Nothing wrong with being obsessed with your mum. A very beautiful one too.
My mother had dark hair with Auburn bits and navy blue eyes, and my dad had sky blue eyes and fair hair. My sister's and myself have the mix up! Sadly one sister estranged.
635 posts