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Category Archives: holidays

Various from the re-Crippled

19 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by franv32 in accidents, family, holidays, humour, Living in a village, Living in France, osteopathy, Parenting, Parenting and family, Raising boys, renovations

≈ 2 Comments

(For anyone that i’ve emailed this week, don’t bother reading this blog as I’ve already exhausted your sympathy with my moaning about my back. For anyone else, read on and sympathise!!!!!)

Blog, good afternoon and a g’day to all of my followers especially Story time with John and Felix O’Shea (maybe not a follower but now that I’ve applied some pressure…)who between them have given me some (blog) laughter on an otherwise pain filled Sunday (except when Fatty ran into my room, stumbled and 3 of his toes ended up inSIDE the posterior of the sleeping Lidl Supermarket Dog… rude awakening indeed. Entre nous, I also laughed whilst watching the Gumball cartoon on Cartoon Network even if the kids weren’t there. Bloody funny that show).

Crippled Again

Life can be cruel.

So, as I knew that Fatty was about to start school (and I’ve been waiting three years for this to happen), I ordered some new running shoes expecting to be able to run a marathon in the way that some men of a certain age still believe they can fit into their 20 year old, size 28 waist jeans? Actually, no. Optimist I may be; deluded? I wouldn’t say never but only rarely.

However, my super duper run like the wind shoes remain unused as:

5 months on from The Stone Steps Bounce and near Ruin, I find myself immobile again. At least it’s different this time. If my spine were representing a letter from the alphabet, it would be an S…….could be worse….could be a Z …heaven forbid, a W.  Funnily enough, I’ve learned from the tongue yanking, ear shoving, coccyx tickling experience with the local osteopath (see post The long road to recovery) and will try a new guy on Tuesday. Watch this space.

s shape spine

 

The 5 boys – an update

The Prodigal

Out of sight out of mind. Sounds harsh? Ok, he is in mind but as I can’t see or hear what he is getting up to, I can’t worry too much about it (except in the long, dark hours of middle night).  He has moved into a flat belonging to some person who lives somewhere in London. ‘I’ll give you my mobile number when I get it. mum’ and ‘yeah, everything is great.’

As with the osteo appointment; WATCH THIS SPACE

The Face

Has been gallivanting in style. Most of his summer was spent in England and he enjoyed two weeks in Sri Lanka.

‘How was it, Face?’

‘yeah…..it was ….erm…….yeah, it was hot.’

I’m hoping that at the start of this new school year, we reach a break through on the understanding of what is homework and what is revision and the difference between the two.

‘So, Face, do you have lots of homework AND revision for this weekend?’

‘Nah, I did it on Thursday.’

Start as you mean to go on, why don’t you.

The Prof

Has started a new school.

It is a Catholic school, in fact but that’s not why he chose it (unless, there is more to him than meets the eye. Mother WOULD be pleased to have, if not a son who is a priest but a grandson).

Although I was brought up Catholic (and let me tell you that one day soon I shall blog about my childhood memories of our family praying together activities……yes, all 8 kids and parents – especially during the month of MAY), the Prof has only been inside a church a handful of times so I’m fully expecting to find him doing some Mass research from the ‘R.C. guide to Mass Etiquette’ prior to his school’s welcome mass next week.

child and bible

The Lips

Still making dark paintings and drawings. Spends lot of time alternating between cuddling Fatty (and who can resist all that softness? All that softness yet what a very foul mouth) and punching him. I guess it’s good training for Fatty’s introduction to Ecole.

 Fatty

‘Mum, your legs are SOOOO SPICEY!!!!! You LOOK.LIKE.A.PLANT!’

A picture of me, second one in from the left:

cactus legs

 

Well his Dad (whom he revealed was actually Michael Jackson) who lives in England now has a wife………yes……called Mum.  Fatty was talking to them both on his plastic telephone and passed me over to them.  It was very much a one sided conversation which I terminated after a few pleasantries.

The next day:

‘Hey Fatty. How is your English dad and mum?’

‘They’re dead.’

—

‘Eye spy with my little eye, su’fing that is yuk’

‘We don’t know Fatty. What is it?’

‘Papa’s arsehole’

I’m relieved that at our local school, the English speaking teacher isn’t there until January.

Upcoming posts:

Catholic family prayer (not to be missed)

The nearly drowning dog, part II

and my thoughts on the recent scientific achievement of brain to brain transmition of thought……actually, I won’t write that down, I’ll just think it to you.

Blog and readers, happy Sunday to you and hope that you don’t get that Sunday evening ‘Haven’t done my homework feeling’ that some decades after leaving school, I still suffer from………unlike my eldest children…….they haven’t done their homework but they don’t suffer from the feeling!

 

 

 

 

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