It’s a week in to January, and time for a giggle blog. It’s my birthday today, I wouldn’t normally mention it, but after having so many nice surprising messages on facebook a lot of people already know that.

It’s got lemon curd and butter cream in the middle, icing on top.
Our lovely daughter Ann popped by at the weekend with her boyfriend Paul. To say hello, and drop me off a lovely present. As we were just finishing cooking the Sunday lunch, we asked them to stay. Over dinner, Ann and Paul had one of those new relationship conversations.
Ann: – Me and Paul are different Mum, I walk fast, he walks slow. (They had been rushing round shopping earlier in the afternoon)
Paul is nodding, with the look of a man who has been shopping with a girl who goes round ten shops and then buys what she saw in the first shop.
Ann: – So we need to compromise.
Paul: – So I’m going to walk faster…… We all laughed at that. Then after dinner, we had a dessert made by me…
Red jelly with fruit in, and yellow custard on top and lots of starry bits. (Why should kids have all the fun) I asked if anyone wanted any. Ann didn’t, but I did, and Paul said, ‘yes’ how embarrassing, when I stuck the spoon in and took a scoop, a loud farting noise came out of the bowl. As a rule I wouldn’t use the word fart on my blog, but I see I just did.
Me and Alan have been helping Dad in the shop over Christmas, and recently. One day, a delivery of plastic wreaths came to the house. Alan’s new delivery job was to load up our vehicle, and then drop them off at the shop. All loaded up, he wasn’t sure if there would be more, so he had a cup of tea…. no, no more, so off he jumped in to the car. There’s me in the window ready to wave him off. All I saw was him banging his door shut, and the back door swinging open, then about four wreaths bounced around on the drive, and he drove off…. with the back door of the vehicle wide open!!! The car was full of sweets that I’d bagged up, and gold, red and silver wreaths, bound for the shop. Or bound to be spread all over the Watling Street if my imagination proved to be right. I banged on the window, jumped up in the air, and ran down the drive after him. Of course, he was out of sight. I still ran,,, don’t know why, instinct I suppose. I shouted to Dad, “Quick, Alan’s drove off and the back door’s swung open,” Dad was shouting, “ring him, quick” I did of course, but remembered seeing Alan’s phone on the sideboard before leaving home. I knew he was driving along oblivious to the back door being open. All I could think was, day 1 as chief delivery driver, and he’s gone off down the main road with the back door wide open….. Dad jumped in his car saying, “I’ll follow him.” With visions of everything strewn around the countryside, I sat down. Later, I found out that as Alan went off, he told me he thought it felt a bit draughty. Then almost immediately he’d left home, around the roundabout, he’d heard the back door slam. Luckily, the roundness of the roundabout, had slammed the door shut…. Phew, that was a bit of a Clouseau moment. Luckily he got away with it. He explained that he’d been waiting incase there were more items to be loaded up, and forgot to slam it shut. More news soon…….