Before

Dad do you know that you were born before the introduction of the home computer.”

Computers are overrated, not sure they will catch on.

Before the Xbox. Even before Space Invaders”

I’m still trying to clear the first wave of aliens. One day……

Mobile phones still to be stuffed in any trouser pockets in your day…”

I wasn’t trusted with pockets. Mum would sew them up.

Before microwaves made it into kitchens, your ancient Dad.”

I remember our families first microwave. It was the size of St Bernards Dog Kennel. I had to plug it in. The first thing we tried to heat was a cup of water. While I pressed the start button my mum and dad hid behind the kitchen door. They thought it was going to go up like a nuclear weapon. Clearly their youngest son was expendable….

Before the Rubik’s Cube, did you get one”

No never had one. When people started talking about getting one …. it sounded to be like a new health worry that you had to see a Doctor about. I’ve got a bad case of the Rubiks.

What was it like being a kid with no cds or DVDs

A lot cheaper for my parents.

No Star Wars.”

It was also still safe to go into the sea as well when I was a kid. No shark movies yet. Jaws was still a little goldfish. I remember kids being told to keep off the beach as soon as that movie came out. Poor Jaws would have been a giant ice cube if he had ventured anywhere near the North Sea.

Even before the Rolling Stones, weren’t you Dad….”

Watch it Hawklad, I’m not that old. Definitely before Taylor Swift was born.

Your old enough to be her Dad…”

I look old enough to be her Great Great Great Grandad…

Before The Simpson’s and Spongebob…. You look old enough to be Homers Dad”

There is a definite family resemblance. You never see Homer and Me together in the same room. Just saying.

“Dad what was it like to be around at the same time as the dinosaurs?”

It was fun. Our barbecues had to be a lot bigger. It made country walks a lot more interesting. But it wasn’t fun trying to clean Pterodactyl poo from your windscreen.

Getting older is overrated……

Battered Rose

This rose bush was here when we first moved in. So it’s at least 18 years old. Given the state of it even then, I suspect it’s been here much, much longer. The changes it has seen over those years. Some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. It’s in a really annoying place. Right next to the front door. Constant pruning required to stop your arms and legs getting lacerated just trying to get into your own home. I dread to think how many times it’s been smashed and broken by washing machine and furniture deliveries. It’s regularly attacked by the local wildlife and pets. So yes it’s had a challenging life.

Yes it’s a tad battered. The roses are never perfect these days. Always a little worn at the edges. The foliage is getting a little thin in places. But it’s still here. Just like we are. I can’t speak for you but in my case I am so like this bush. A bit old. The body has taken one too many hits. Definitely battered and a little frayed round the edges. You could even argue that I’m starting to take root. But currently I am still here. Still trying to live. I will give thanks for that.

Usefulness

Surprised these are not vultures today

It’s been one of those days. You wake up as a zombie with one mission – to create havoc. The alarm went and as I swung out of bed I managed to send a glass of water hurtling towards the wall like an Exocet missile. I dried the wall, picked up the glass pieces and applied the plasters to my fingers. Then it was time for my pre school day workout. For some mad idea I decided to opt for single arm press-ups. Who do I think I am, The Rock. Clearly I forgot I am a middle aged chump. Although I managed a few reps, the problems came later. My arms clearly were not impressed. Now the shakes make drinking from a cup a real challenge. Today I’m just accepting that I have a permanent have you just wet yourself look.

Then as Son was doing his history lesson I decided to garden. First I tried to trim back a tree branch that is growing unerringly towards the overhead telephone cable. I should have been more concerned with the chainsaw power cable. Within seconds I had a power lead in two pieces and a out of action chainsaw. Let’s try something less dangerous. Let’s plant some seeds. Start with the flowers then plant some vegetables. I did a wonderful job with the hanging baskets. Carefully filled with seeds. So I moved onto the soil patch that I had carefully prepared for the vegetables. Why have I still got all the unopened flower seeds and can’t find the carrot seeds. Yep I’m going to have some beautiful hanging baskets with glorious displays of carrots. Well that went well.

Lunch went well. First of all I decided to pour tomato soup onto the carpet. I then tried to grate some cheese, unfortunately the plastic wrapper got involved, so bits of plastic got shredded as well. Wonder if that qualifies me for a Michelin star.

Finally I set the washing machine off on a daily wash cycle without actually loading much in. When I say much that means one pair of socks. All other items remained in the washing basket sat in front of said machine. Deep sigh. So basically today I have been useless. Having said that I have been doing this for years. It’s scary that it’s taken millions of years of evolutionary progress to get to me. Wow.

So now it’s time for some terrible poetry in the form of Chelsea Owens weekly terrible poetry challenge. This week the rules are most appropriately

  1. Let’s Topic on a humorous end to a useful object. Irony is encouraged.
  2. The Length is between 5 and 155 words.
  3. Rhyming is optional, but recommended.
  4. Make it terrible! Make me rue the day I ever started a contest based on bad poetry …until the next week’s prompt.
  5. Rating: PG or cleaner. You can do it.

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (April 24) to submit a poem to Chelsea.

Well here goes and I can’t think of a better subject here then ME…..

Face it I am a muppet

As useful as badly worn glove puppet

The youthful sporting body is sadly no more

Now this used body constantly needs to visit the drugstore

I just can’t bend over without making a groan

I can only move thanks to heaps of cortisone

Once brimming with dreams of adventure and success

Now I’m wracked with anxieties and filled with stress

Everyday I deliver mistake after mistake

Always sweeping up the stuff I carelessly brake

Increasingly I’m covered in dust

With a bank balance which has gone bust

These days definitely more rounded in the middle

Watching life fly past featuring only as a second fiddle

No more than a terrible poetry bard

Maybe it’s time for me to visit the knackers yard