Evidence that one doesn't have to spend hours reading fairy tales to children if one is canny about it ...

Now I am to become a grandmother, I need to get my stock of fairy tales sorted in case I'm asked to babysit.  They're so LONG, though, aren't they?  What were the Grimms THINKING?!  Didn't THEY ever need to get downstairs in time for Coronation Street?  

It's no good.  Some cuts will have to be made.  So ...

Even Littler Red Riding Hood

Little Red Riding Hood lived near the forest with her mother.  One day, her mother said, ‘If I bake some cakes, will you take them to Grandmother?  Only, be careful as you walk through the forest, because of the wolf.  He is dangerous and fierce and will eat you.’ 

            The little girl had barely been on the forest path for five minutes before she saw the wolf.  She stopped, petrified.  But the wolf did not seem to even notice her at first.  He had his hairy head buried in a book called ‘Lupine Anger Management - Module 1.’  

            Just then, the Wolf’s head emerged from the book.

            ‘Oh, hi there, hun,’ he said, amiably.  ‘How goes it?’

            ‘Fine,’ said Red Riding Hood, smiling nervously.  ‘I’m just off to Grandmother’s with some cakes.’

            ‘Lovely day for it,’ said the Wolf, raising a cheerful paw.  ‘Enjoy!’  And he went back to his book.  So Red Riding Hood skipped off to visit Grandmother, leaving the Wolf very pleased with himself and writing a big tick against Chapter 3, ‘How to resist attacking little girls dressed in bright colours.’  

The End, and just in time for Corrie.

'That's the last time I'm ever going to believe Mother about ANYthing,' thought Red.
It was the beginning of a long period of rebellion, culminating in a pregnancy, an unfortunate
marriage, and a short period in a women's prison.  No happy ending there, then.

Evidence that I am not quite ready to be declared officially old

People have been asking, 'Are you a Granny yet?'

This is because my husband's mother's son's son's wife's baby (my son's wife - just showing off about apostrophes) was due to give birth last Saturday.

I said to all three of my kids a while back, 'If any of you produce offspring before my 50th birthday, launching me into yet another generation, I will not be happy.'  As it is, I've been 50 for 2 months exactly today.  That's what I call sailing close to the wind.

So, I'm on tenterhooks, whatever the hell they are, waiting for news.  Hang on.  Am going to have to google ............... Wait there.






on tenterhooks

anxiously waiting for news about someone or something She was on tenterhooks until her son called and said he was not hurt.

Etymology: based on the literal meaning of tenterhook (a hook that holds cloth that is stretched to dry), suggesting that someone's emotions are tightly stretched like a piece of cloth held by tenterhooks

Cambridge Dictionary of American Idioms Copyright © Cambridge University Press 2003. Reproduced with permission.

Well, there you go.  That's what tenterhooks are.  And I'm on them.  This morning, my alarm went off at 6 as usual so I could get up for work, and although half of my brain said, 'That's the alarm, fool,' the other half said, 'PHONE!  BABY!' and I grabbed my mobile in panic.  

I'm fascinated about how I'm going to settle into this new 'Granny' identity.  I am as much use to the knitting world as Botox would be to Gordon Ramsay.  I don't have Murray Mints or a clean hankie in my handbag.  I don't wear a shawl in bed or read Woman's Weekly.  And I don't like being in rocking chairs because I spill my wine.

Still, in the next week or so, I'm going to have a grandson.  Watch this space, peoples.  Fran is about to get officially old.

The new Fran, knitting with tenterhooks and wishing she'd gone to Specsavers

Evidence that socialising more may just be a case of forgetting your umbrella

You know how you suddenly find you've had a conversation with a complete stranger?  Why does this happen?

1.  When you've forgotten something

I was walking along the road today when a lady walking ahead suddenly stopped, turned round, and headed back towards the other way, towards me.  As she was passing me, she stopped and said, 'Forgotten my umbrella!  Silly me!' and I stopped and said, 'Ha ha, I'm always doing that!' and she said, 'I know.  Isn't it annoying?  Then you have to go ALL the way back!' and I said, 'Yeah, SO irritating' and then we said 'bye' to each other like we'd met each other in 1845 and had been meeting for drinks on Fridays ever since, and I went on my way.  Why did she feel she had to tell me?  She had a perfect right to double back without deferring to me.  Why do we do this?

2.  When someone has been blocking you on the street

Later, in town, I was trying to walk down quite a narrow pavement.  But there were two people in front of me who were obviously on a 'let's-wander-through-town-and-look-in-every-shop-window' day trip.  I couldn't get past and it got to the point where I was contemplating skewering them both in the back with my big golf umbrella and making them into a kebab.  Instead, I did that thing where you try and dodge around to the left or right of them, but every time I did, they got back in my way, and so it was getting annoying.  Suddenly, they spotted me behind them, and stopped to let me past.  What did I say?  Did I say, 'About time!'?  No.  Did I say, 'Thank you?' and move on?   No.  I squeezed past them saying, 'Sorry, sorry, my apologies' and they said, 'That's okay' and I said, 'Off to see my Gran - in a hurry.  Sorry.' and they said, 'No problem' and I said, 'Thanks.  Have a good day.'  So, in two seconds, they had been transformed from potential kebab ingredients to lifelong friends to invite to weddings and funerals. How did that happen?

3. When you're at a bus stop

People at bus stops talk to each other, but only when the bus is late.  You wait in silence, or maybe listening to an ipod or texting someone, until 9.37 when your bus is due.  You don't say a word to anyone at all.  Then, at 9.37 and 45 seconds, with no bus, suddenly everyone starts hugging and kissing and saying, 'It's never normally late' and 'You're right, it's usually so reliable' and then someone else says, 'Ooh, I don't know, it's often late for me' and then you start swapping birth stories.  Then what happens? The bus arrives at just before 9.38 and you all get on and sit on completely different seats, ignoring one another for the rest of the journey.  Why?

9.37

9.37 and 45 seconds

4. When there's a community crisis

Sunday afternoon.  Everyone's behind their doors, having crumpets or scones and cups of tea.  Speak to the neighbours?  Are you KIDDING?  Then, without warning, out go the lights.  You switch them on and off again, then off and on again, then realise it's not just the lights, but the fridge has gone quiet, and the DVD player doesn't work either.  A power cut.  Suddenly, your doorbell rings.  It's Roger from number 30.  'Has your power gone off?'  'Yes, it has.'  'Mine, too.  What a pain?'  'Hey, we've got gas.  Want a cup of tea?'  'Well, don't mind if I do!'  So, in comes Roger, and twenty minutes later, the people from numbers 12, 35, 17 and 41, and you're getting out the chocolate biscuits left over from Christmas, and everyone's talking about their operations, food intolerances and sexual frustrations.  Then, the lights go on.  Five minutes later, you're back to your lonely consumption of crumpets and tea, you have a pile of washing up as high as a lucky junkie, and Maureen never finished her story about her ingrown toenail.  (Shame.)

More evidence that the wrong consonant makes all the difference to a famous book title

More typo-lit, one of my favourite genres:

To Kilt a Mockingbird - a tale set in the Southern States of America in which a young family move into the area from Aberdeen.  The children are found dressing the local wildlife in tartan and have to be taught that clothing innocent victims in bright material is not acceptable.  The little girl (Scot) says, 'Shoot, Pa, that's the darndest thing I ever did hear!' and there is surprise all round at her adoption of the local dialect in such a short time.

To Kiln a Mockingbird - a tale set in the Southern States of America in which a wise father teaches his children that to put an innocent bird into a red-hot oven, converting it into an attractive china piece for the kitchen, was bound to upset Aunt Alexandra when given as a birthday present, and if this was indeed their intention, they deserved a whipping.   They don't get the whipping; the father can't stand Aunt Alexandra either.

To Bill a Mockingbird - a tale set in the Southern States of America in which a wise father has to teach his children that mockingbirds are allowed to fly over the house without being brought down by a catapult and made to sing before being allowed to continue their journey.  The children complain that they have a whole summer ahead of them and what else are they meant to do now that the only entertainment around, a rabid dog, has been shot?

To Dill: a Mockingbird - a tale set in the Southern States of America, written in the second person and addressed to one of the main characters.  Two young children, allowed to roam free by their father who is a busy lawyer, play for several summers with what they think is a young boy called Dill.  By the fourth summer, however, they begin to wonder how Dill gets around so quickly, why he has developed a predilection for collecting twigs, why his voice is getting higher rather than lower, and, finally, the thing about the beak.  The day that Dill lays an egg when they are at the table eating cornbread results in an epiphany for the whole family and a much more interesting puzzle than why Boo Radley won't come out of his house.  The two children write their account of that summer in epistolary form, subtitled, 'We need to talk about Dill' and make a fortune, which helps out Father when his court cases don't go too well.

'To Mill a Mockingbird'.  Another kind of book entirely.

Reasons why polygamy should be permitted in exceptional circumstances

Oh.  My.  Word.  I have just found my ideal man, and if I wasn't already married, I would be googling him and inviting him round so that we could read the dictionary together ... and maybe more, as they say in the small ads.

You HAVE to watch him, and find out why.  My heart was actually thumping as he talked.

 Watch Fran's ideal man in action, and think once again, should she be allowed out?