<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:07:18.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dog Barks At Lemons</title><subtitle type='html'>I once threw a lemon for him, pretending it was a ball.
He's had it in for lemons ever since.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-4318214978244255674</id><published>2007-11-19T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T10:14:22.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DARREN SCISSORHANDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/R0HOhWbO2gI/AAAAAAAAACs/ublDfAc3R4s/s1600-h/edward.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134612122529880578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/R0HOhWbO2gI/AAAAAAAAACs/ublDfAc3R4s/s200/edward.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Calling all fathers of children under the age of 10 yrs old!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All mothers of children under the age of 10yrs old have certain 'rules' about cutting their hair: This is the main one ..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;DO&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;NOT&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;CUT&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;YOUR&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;CHILD'S&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HAIR!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This rule includes taking them to the hairdressers without prior permission from the mother &amp;amp; also attempting to do a Daniel Galvin at home with a butter-knife.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At school today we saw little Joe, Alfie's best mate. His dad decided last night that he needed a few 'layers' putting in his lovely locks. His mum was in tears &amp;amp; had booked an emergency appointment at the barber's. It really was a dreadful haircut - you could SEE the badly chopped layers of fringe (about 4 of them)  glinting in the Autumnal sunshine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope everything will be ok. at the school gates tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO. 10&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A paint roller&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-4318214978244255674?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/4318214978244255674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=4318214978244255674' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/4318214978244255674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/4318214978244255674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/darren-scissorhands.html' title='DARREN SCISSORHANDS'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/R0HOhWbO2gI/AAAAAAAAACs/ublDfAc3R4s/s72-c/edward.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-1688509117036820654</id><published>2007-11-18T08:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T08:58:54.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOST WEEKEND</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/R0BqN2bO2eI/AAAAAAAAACc/eX8s7UIN7j8/s1600-h/paul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134220361382943202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/R0BqN2bO2eI/AAAAAAAAACc/eX8s7UIN7j8/s200/paul.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; Friday - Sunday:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of my most important &amp;amp; valuable charity shop 'finds' (Paul - originally from Whitley Bay, now residing in London) has been up to stay for the weekend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is a picture of him on a balcony somewhere reading something - probably a Stanley Gibbons Stamp valuation catalogue, a Miller's Collectables Guide or the Dear Deirdre column in The Sun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As well as the gaps in this blog, there are also gaps in my memory of the whole weekend &amp;amp; possibly large chunks of my liver in the back yard.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Keywords for the weekend: Champagne, Lulu, Marilyn Monroe, Lidl, IC Discounts, vodka, pear juice, charity shops, Wilko's, Nurofen Plus, full english breakfast/greasy spoon, novelty miniature plastic radios &amp;amp; garden porn.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I can't elaborate - I'm too hungover.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO. 9&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My favourite so far: A shopping list left behind on the Co-Op counter yesterday afternoon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Written on the back of a Rizla paper ...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Booze&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fanta Fruit Twist&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Booze&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Booze&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Vodka&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It could so easily have been our list from Friday night but it wasn't. I know this because they didn't have milk or dog-food on it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-1688509117036820654?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/1688509117036820654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=1688509117036820654' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/1688509117036820654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/1688509117036820654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/lost-weekend.html' title='LOST WEEKEND'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/R0BqN2bO2eI/AAAAAAAAACc/eX8s7UIN7j8/s72-c/paul.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-1327730247131258215</id><published>2007-11-15T05:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T06:12:07.586-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LIDL RICHARD AND HIS BITCH DARREN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzxL9jkK6KI/AAAAAAAAACM/B-fWHVFmwmk/s1600-h/lidl.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133061196186577058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzxL9jkK6KI/AAAAAAAAACM/B-fWHVFmwmk/s200/lidl.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today was Lidl Day! I love Lidl on several counts: Bargains, unusual items &amp;amp; the guys on the check-out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Richard &amp;amp; Darren were our check-out masters for today. Camp as Christmas &amp;amp; always up for a bit of banter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I went up to the tills they were arguing about the correct bar-code for a pomegranate &amp;amp; it looked like it was going to be handbags at dawn.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;DARREN: 'Oh shut up! You wouldn't know a pomegranate from a sweet potato'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;LIDL RICHARD: (To me) 'Oh take no notice of that bitch! He's 'on'. Now then missy, do you want our lovely brochure featuring our OUTSTANDING Christmas promotions? Ere, stick it in yer basket'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;DARREN: 'Don't take anything off him, he's UNCLEAN'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The elderly couple at Darren's till really didn't know what to make of it all &amp;amp; busied themselves putting their obviously impulse purchase of 10 pineapples into carrier bags. That's another thing I like about Lidl - the way your brain just disobeys everything rational. I agree, 59p is a good price for a pineapple but really ........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me &amp;amp; Paul went one day &amp;amp; the 'for one week only' range of strange goods was snorkelling equipment. Quite cheap it was too. Something you'd like to buy &amp;amp; stuff in the back of a cupboard because you neeever knooooooooooow (&amp;amp; besides, you've never seen flippers THAT cheap .... EVER) I irrationally puchased a sewing machine a few months ago. Can't even thread the damned thing &amp;amp; even if I could, I can't sew.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My favourite item has to be 'Gerodog' dogfood priced 64p. I like the brand-name. It sounds like a command! Presumably if you're buying dogfood you've already 'Goradog' though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"HELP! WE'VE BEEN BURGLED!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"GERODOG!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.8&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another television.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-1327730247131258215?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/1327730247131258215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=1327730247131258215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/1327730247131258215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/1327730247131258215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/lidl-richard-and-his-bitch-darren.html' title='LIDL RICHARD AND HIS BITCH DARREN'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzxL9jkK6KI/AAAAAAAAACM/B-fWHVFmwmk/s72-c/lidl.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-3678395321428473490</id><published>2007-11-14T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T09:37:26.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HOW CLEAN IS YOUR MOUSE?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzsrBpW2TJI/AAAAAAAAAB8/zmQ0jUKnOvw/s1600-h/kim.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132743507600362642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzsrBpW2TJI/AAAAAAAAAB8/zmQ0jUKnOvw/s200/kim.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decided to tidy the living-room today in an unprecedented move towards clean living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOATHE housework ... it's all dusters, cleaning products &amp;amp; germ reduction. A waste of calories if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the telly's in the living room I decided to switch it on for company. Lo &amp;amp; behold, there was an episode of 'How Clean is Your House' being broadcast to the whole nation .. or was it being broadcast ESPECIALLY FOR ME? Paranoia set in &amp;amp; with good reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's episode was devoted to a lovely lady called Rosie in London who hadn't cleaned her flat for 24yrs. She was addicted to crosswords &amp;amp; reading books instead of EVER bothering to do housework &amp;amp; obviously had a complete mental block about the whole thing (her dad was a Health Inspector apparently &amp;amp; according to Kim &amp;amp; Aggie would be turning in his grave)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do like Kim &amp;amp; Aggie, they make me laugh. But really, this lady wasn't 'lazy' or 'slovenly' - she just had a genuine aversion to cleaning/tidying due to other issues. I could relate to her entirely &amp;amp; felt really quite sorry for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She kept her toothbrush &amp;amp; hairbrush in a cutlery drainer in the kitchen &amp;amp; seemed to genuinely not understand why it was a sin according to Kim &amp;amp; Aggie. I went straight into the kitchen &amp;amp; removed my toothbrush from the cutlery drainer &amp;amp; poured half a bottle of bleach into the sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I watched Aggie merrily hoovering dust off Rosie's books (&amp;amp; Kim coming back to the show with some disturbing results from swabbing a plug-hole) I made a grim discovery in the corner next to the coal bucket: A decomposed mouse &amp;amp; a small, yet perfectly formed, cat-turd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a sign from above, I know! Now is the time! I must do more crosswords &amp;amp; start reading again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO. 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The top off a pool table outside the Builder's Trades &amp;amp; Social Club. I NEARLY went back in the van to get it &amp;amp; then gave myself a good talking to. "Don't be bloody stupid woman, you've got no balls"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-3678395321428473490?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/3678395321428473490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=3678395321428473490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/3678395321428473490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/3678395321428473490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/how-clean-is-your-mouse.html' title='HOW CLEAN IS YOUR MOUSE?'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzsrBpW2TJI/AAAAAAAAAB8/zmQ0jUKnOvw/s72-c/kim.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-4533851354826975761</id><published>2007-11-13T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T09:38:04.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MY NAME IS BOND .. PREMIUM BOND ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RznHGgmv5LI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LJjIoIZl238/s1600-h/chicken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132352165010990258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RznHGgmv5LI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LJjIoIZl238/s200/chicken.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;.. and you've won 50 quid. Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick I suppose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Went up to the allotment &amp;amp; did bugger all apart from sit in Ahmed's shed &amp;amp; listen to him chatter away for 2hrs. It's 'wood-burning stove' season &amp;amp; his shed was red hot. Honestly, he could grow pineapples in there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today's stories centred on his life in Pakistan as a boy &amp;amp; his aversion to shopping. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apparently he hates shopping &amp;amp; last went to a supermarket in 1979 with his wife Maureen &amp;amp; vowed never to go ever again. As far as I know he's been true to his word.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As a boy he had a disabled pet chicken that couldn't walk properly. He used to hand-feed her &amp;amp; she lived for 12yrs. He was also addicted to raw eggs &amp;amp; stole a dozen a day from his mum's chicken-shed to feed his habit. Ended up at the doctor's with some sort of gastric complaint - no bloody wonder!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His younger brother is a champion pigeon-racer &amp;amp; so far this year he's won a motorbike, a washing machine &amp;amp; a horse. Quite good prizes if you ask me. If you won a pigeon race in the UK you'd probably get a manky brass cup &amp;amp; a Wilkos voucher. He's coming over to visit in December &amp;amp; I'm quite looking forward to it. You can't have too many Ahmeds!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.7&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A watermelon. Obviously escaped from the fruit display outside Pak-Foods. It had got quite far actually, all the way down to the Co-Op. I was in the van, otherwise I'd have picked it up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-4533851354826975761?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/4533851354826975761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=4533851354826975761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/4533851354826975761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/4533851354826975761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-name-is-bond-premium-bond.html' title='MY NAME IS BOND .. PREMIUM BOND ..'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RznHGgmv5LI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LJjIoIZl238/s72-c/chicken.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-7255726695626623573</id><published>2007-11-12T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T11:32:12.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CONVERSATION CONSERVATION</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzidIAmv5KI/AAAAAAAAABs/qcWGhjIQu2w/s1600-h/SCOUT2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132024536315716770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzidIAmv5KI/AAAAAAAAABs/qcWGhjIQu2w/s200/SCOUT2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Conversation conservation has been my mission for the day - prompted by the miserable trout on the Police reception desk this morning when I handed in the flick-knife.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I told her the story of where I'd found it etc &amp;amp; whilst she was doing the paperwork I tried to make small-talk: Who on earth is allowed to sell these things? Nasty-looking thing isn't it? I was with my 4yr old boy when I found it, good job he didn't eh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No joy. She was more interested in the bloke in the queue before me complaining that the hairdresser across the road from his house regularly blocks his driveway on a Friday when it's wheelie-bin day. On the tick-box form she described the item as a 'fancy pen-knife' &amp;amp; asked if I wanted to claim it after the lost-property reclaim period was up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Oh yes please! I've always wanted to take up street-fighting! Just ignore my previous conversation about how awful it is! Gimme a call when it's available. And don't give up your day job"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;MISERABLE TROUT CONVERSATION RATING: 1/10. Very poor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then I went to Burton Joyce Hospice Shop (very posh there) &amp;amp; the lady behind the counter completely refused to be drawn into a conversation about buttons &amp;amp; the demise of button-tins over the years. She also refused to see the amusing side of me finding a pair of men's Primark cotton boxer shorts in the tea-towel basket. I think she thought I was stealing things actually. She followed me round like a length of toilet-roll stuck in my knicker elastic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;BURTON JOYCE HOSPICE LADY RATING: 2/10. Could do better&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next stop Sherwood. Six charity shops there that I did the 'button conversation' test with.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;SAVE THE CHILDREN LADY: 8/10. Helped me sort the buttons &amp;amp; engaged in general conversation about the weather &amp;amp; children.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;MIND SHOP MANAGERESS: 6/10. Shared my interest in buttons but refused to be drawn into conversation about anything else. Didn't take on board the fact that a pair of pink, plastic handcuffs with the words 'Prisoner of Love' was in the children's toy-box section &amp;amp; that it was probably inappropriate.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;THE NOTTS SCOUTS' CHARITY SHOP, MALE &amp;amp; FEMALE DOUBLE ACT:10/10. Chatted for about 15 minutes about anything &amp;amp; everything, helped me sort buttons, had many memories to share about button-tins they had known over the years &amp;amp; were wearing woggles. Perfect.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I nearly killed Kevin the cat today by kicking a Lidl carrier bag across the kitchen on my way to the kettle. How the bloody hell was I to know she was sleeping in it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.6&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The top off a silver bicycle bell with a flower on top. When I was a kid I had a Magic Roundabout bell&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-7255726695626623573?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/7255726695626623573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=7255726695626623573' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/7255726695626623573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/7255726695626623573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/conversation-conservation.html' title='CONVERSATION CONSERVATION'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzidIAmv5KI/AAAAAAAAABs/qcWGhjIQu2w/s72-c/SCOUT2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-7052160725407375717</id><published>2007-11-11T08:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T08:47:07.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>IMAGINARY RELATIVES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzcpXAmv5JI/AAAAAAAAABk/m7FS3JY4z1Q/s1600-h/buttons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131615775688221842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzcpXAmv5JI/AAAAAAAAABk/m7FS3JY4z1Q/s200/buttons.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went to Colwick Racecourse car-boot sale as planned this morning. Fifteen furlongs of crap!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, that's not quite true, I did get some bargains. A novelty, fingernail-clipper keyring in the shape of a violin, a pair of binoculars &amp;amp; some collectable pottery that's all been put on EBay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a strange psychological experience as I wandering round looking for bargains to put up for sale. I actually felt REALLY GUILTY for buying things at a price that I knew was lower than the re-sell value. Ridiculous, I know, but it prompted me to invent a whole 'imaginary family tree' as follows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ooooh that's a pretty plate! My Auntie Eileen collects things with birds/strawberries/windmills on them. How much is it?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ooooh binoculars! My Uncle Gregory lost his last week when he went birdwatching in Lincoln. He'd LOVE those! How much are they?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ooooh my gran's got that exact same teaset but she's broken a couple of the cups. She'd be thrilled to have them replaced! How much are they?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has to be said, my imaginary family tree is looking even better than my real one. I'm going to take Auntie Eileen with me next week as well - she did good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I only bought one thing for myself (pats self on head) a biscuit tin full of buttons. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of tonight will be taken up with sorting the buttons &amp;amp; asking myself searching questions: Shall I sort them into groups according to colour? Shall I sort them into groups according to size? Shall I group them into matching types? Why on earth would anyone want THAT stitched to their cardi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Daisy came round briefly &amp;amp; we had a short, sharp argument about the disappearance of a tin of dogfood, 20 fags &amp;amp; a bottle of red wine last night. It wasn't her, obviously, so I've bollocked the dog instead for getting pissed up, smoking 20 Silk Cut Silver &amp;amp; then helping himself to a can of Bounce Chunks. He's sulking in his basket.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of those carpet-covered tower things that people buy to encourage their cats not to scratch the furniture&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-7052160725407375717?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/7052160725407375717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=7052160725407375717' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/7052160725407375717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/7052160725407375717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/imaginary-relatives.html' title='IMAGINARY RELATIVES'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzcpXAmv5JI/AAAAAAAAABk/m7FS3JY4z1Q/s72-c/buttons.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-2630935830323114891</id><published>2007-11-10T06:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T07:12:22.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HERE'S ONE I BROKE EARLIER</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzXALrMcVjI/AAAAAAAAABc/bE_wAdYGNTg/s1600-h/CUP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131218657264555570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzXALrMcVjI/AAAAAAAAABc/bE_wAdYGNTg/s200/CUP.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In a bid to make millions on EBay I've been reading  'Miller's Collectables' books. To be honest I don't know why I torture myself doing this because the books are full of stuff I've broken.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Take this cup for example - a Midwinter 'Festival' design, quite rare. If you'd got the whole teaset comprising of 2 plates, 2 cups &amp;amp; saucers, teapot, milk jug and sugar basin, it would be worth about 350 quid. If you'd got a cup &amp;amp; saucer it would be worth 25 quid. I've got the cup .... broke the saucer. Net worth 5 quid. I'm going to sell it anyway, bollocks. Off to the car boot tomorrow to find a Troika vase for 50p.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Phoned mother to tell her that a Midwinter vegetable tureen she's got in her cupboard is worth 5 quid &amp;amp; she got quite snotty about it. "You can have it when I'm dead". Let's hope she lives a long &amp;amp; happy life &amp;amp; it escalates in value then. No skin off my nose.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've also been Googling seeds for the allotment next year &amp;amp; trying to stop myself from buying heritage collections that I'm bound to kill.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I once looked into being a 'guardian' of heritage seeds - propagating them &amp;amp; saving seed to be sold on. The rules were pretty complicated: hand pollinate, keep away from other varieties etc. Decided against it in the end as it would be typical of me to be responsible for the demise of a 'rare bean'.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Maybe I'll just get all my seeds from Wilko's this year on the 'Buy One Get One Free' offer they have when it's far too late to plant anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.4&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today's random item is a bit disturbing. On the way to the Co-Op with Alfie I spotted a vicious-looking, folding flick-knife in the grate outside The Jester (not unsurprisingly given the reputation of the pub)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've been following the story of Meredith Kercher, the student murdered by her friends in Italy &amp;amp; feeling sick to the stomach by it. Seeing a flick-knife so obviously designed to be clipped to a belt, drawn quickly and cause maximum damage with a curved shape &amp;amp; serrated edge made me feel even sicker. I suppose if I was to think about it rationally, it might be a fisherman's knife and he dropped it accidentally. But outside The Jester? Maybe not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-2630935830323114891?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/2630935830323114891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=2630935830323114891' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/2630935830323114891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/2630935830323114891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/heres-one-i-broke-earlier.html' title='HERE&apos;S ONE I BROKE EARLIER'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzXALrMcVjI/AAAAAAAAABc/bE_wAdYGNTg/s72-c/CUP.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-2654096554178237036</id><published>2007-11-09T06:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T07:21:42.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NOEL EDMONDS' FACIAL EXPRESSIONS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzRv1bMcVhI/AAAAAAAAABM/2V97PiAvDU4/s1600-h/ahmed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130848839105533458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzRv1bMcVhI/AAAAAAAAABM/2V97PiAvDU4/s200/ahmed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another day at the allotment hedge cutting. I trimmed my heart-shaped bush &amp;amp; Ahmed attended in a supervisory capacity (for 'supervisory' read: 'No, no, no .. you're doing it all wrong') This is a picture of him doing it 'all right'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then Dario arrived &amp;amp; the boys went into the shed for the daily round-up of what happened on 'Deal or no Deal' the night before. There's something endearing about 80 yr olds discussing the amount in the box &amp;amp; the significance of Noel's facial expressions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not endearing enough to sit through the whole conversation though - it lasts longer than the actual programme &amp;amp; usually ends up with them all agreeing that it's a fix and they don't know why they bother watching it. I agree with the last bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mother phoned to tell me Uncle Wilf had died. I have no recollection of who Uncle Wilf is/was but apparently his daughter Janet lives in Oban &amp;amp; is a marine biologist. Auntie Joyce is bearing up but she's been a little unsteady on her feet lately. His other daughter Linda is a teacher in Glasgow &amp;amp; apparently used to teach my cousin Jane's husband Naresh. Fascinating. Another 15 minutes of my life I'll never get back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.3 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A mobile phone cord-thingy with the words 'Sex God' emblazoned all the way down it. Can't think who I can give it to, no-one is worthy. EBay? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-2654096554178237036?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/2654096554178237036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=2654096554178237036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/2654096554178237036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/2654096554178237036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/noel-edmonds-facial-expressions.html' title='NOEL EDMONDS&apos; FACIAL EXPRESSIONS'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzRv1bMcVhI/AAAAAAAAABM/2V97PiAvDU4/s72-c/ahmed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-3267881619177966705</id><published>2007-11-08T06:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T07:25:15.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE CAT'S OUT OF THE BASKET</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzMpVLMcVgI/AAAAAAAAABE/xLiTV9ZVnQ8/s1600-h/morgan2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130489844264097282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzMpVLMcVgI/AAAAAAAAABE/xLiTV9ZVnQ8/s200/morgan2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Been to the vets this am. with Miserable Morgan for her booster jabs. On the way she managed to break out of the maximum security cat basket &amp;amp; hurtle round the inside the car for half a mile before I could stop in a lay-by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally managed to stuff her back in, she pissed on the sports section of The Observer. Remind me again why I have cats. I'm really a dog person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some nice people in the vets waiting room today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lovely lady whose pedigree, persian blue cat had diarrhoea - apparently her husband died last year and her mother bought her the cat as a replacement. It was one of those moments when you really didn't know what to say, so I settled on 'oh dear'. I think that covered all eventualities but you never can tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A  delightful elderly couple with their overweight sheltie. They'd just been on holiday to Turkey and found it most pleasant, apart from the fact that the Turkish liked to 'haggle' &amp;amp; 'barter'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The receptionist had a theory on haggling and bartering which went on for about 10 minutes: "Some people like to haggle &amp;amp; barter don't they? But some people don't. I like to haggle &amp;amp; barter. I like it! But some people don't"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She backtracked when I tried to get the consultation fee &amp;amp; some worming tablet half price though. Money where your mouth is and all that ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went to the allotment to get curly kale, leeks, herbs &amp;amp; the last of the potatoes. Grandad was there so I spent at least 2hrs hour in the shed listening to his stories about Newstead Village &amp;amp; the practical jokes he played at the pit. Couldn't have spent a better 2hrs if I'd tried.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandad doesn't like cats and they don't like him either. His response to me telling him I'd taken Morgan for her booster?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The only booster our cats ever had was a boot up the arse" I can well believe it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's probably why a large tom-cat him &amp;amp; Momma had, circa 1962, lodged itself up the chimney &amp;amp; refused to come down. Grandad then stuck a stick up the chimney,  the cat flew out &amp;amp; stuck itself to his back in a most ferocious manner. Can't fault the cat really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To add the icing on the feline cake of the day, we were clearing out the greenhouse &amp;amp; I noticed a strange brown 'lump' of something on the perspex roof. It was a perfect coil of catshit! One of Ahmed's cats from the allotment next door had obviously left its own little birthday present for Grandad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A television.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-3267881619177966705?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/3267881619177966705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=3267881619177966705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/3267881619177966705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/3267881619177966705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/cats-out-of-basket.html' title='THE CAT&apos;S OUT OF THE BASKET'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzMpVLMcVgI/AAAAAAAAABE/xLiTV9ZVnQ8/s72-c/morgan2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-997644178356703448.post-7065476806698819524</id><published>2007-11-07T05:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T08:23:33.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LET'S TRY AGAIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzHBJkUvg7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/jd6cwPuQj3Q/s1600-h/growyourown.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130093820665365426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzHBJkUvg7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/jd6cwPuQj3Q/s200/growyourown.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;FIRST DAY'S BLOGGING ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried this before you know. I must have at least 4 blogs out there somewhere all with the 1st post as follows ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TESTING, TESTING, TESTING&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So far so good .. only forgotten my password once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is Grandad's birthday so I've taken an unprecedented trip into town to buy pressies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bought him (and me) the Grow Your Own DVD. That's that random picture up there to the left by the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also bought Minna a fairy costume from Jessops. I held it up to me at the checkout and asked the lady if she thought it would fit me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"One of your arms maybe" CHEEKY MARE! I'm a dead ringer for a 7yr old! Mind you, so are my arms so she wasn't far wrong I suppose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thinking of things to write on blogs is a strange kettle of fish isn't it? On the way to pick Alfie up from school I decided to post a daily list of random things I find on the pavement&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;RANDOM ITEM NO.1&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A chip fork.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oooooooh I can see this blog is going to have over a million hits. Look out J.K. Rowling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/997644178356703448-7065476806698819524?l=trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/feeds/7065476806698819524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=997644178356703448&amp;postID=7065476806698819524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/7065476806698819524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/997644178356703448/posts/default/7065476806698819524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trixiebellebadmum.blogspot.com/2007/11/tuesday-7th-november.html' title='LET&apos;S TRY AGAIN'/><author><name>Trixie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18160510582341775414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_x5UY8RVtNXw/RzHBJkUvg7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/jd6cwPuQj3Q/s72-c/growyourown.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
