Le Blog

Oui, Madame New In the Dales has been orft trotting the globe again. To France on Eurostar. Was met at Gare Du Nord by son-in-law as strolled nonchalantly down platform in manner of Seasoned Traveller, employing GCE Level French by murmering 'pardon, pardon, as clipped heels of fellow Eurostarers with recalcitrant suitcase on wheels. Note to self, (use spell check). Was whizzed through Paris by fils-in-law, which was Extremely Chevaux Raising, as French Drivers completely off the mur. Closed eyes as we negotiated round the Arc De Triomphe, as sincerely thought Last Hour Had Come. However, arrived at home of daughter and was greeted by small grandsons in manner which suggested the youngest one, (3 years old) had completely forgotten who I was. Managed to re-establish self as Seldom Seen English Nana, and sat down to Lovely Shepherds Pie, produced in deference to Ancient Teeth and Pernickity Eating Habits. By bed-time, was completely accepted by youngest grandson, and both little boys, (the eldest being 6), decided to share my bed. After I put light out, youngest one announced, 'I prefer to be in my own bed actually, marched out of the room and repaired to his own quarters. Was slightly relieved as he had been kicking me in the back relentlessly. Cannot possibly report on entire visit in one Blog, but suffice to say, was Great Fun. Have become Firm Favourite after baby-sitting and Hilarious Evening ensued, playing huge amount of games, allowing them to win, and generally being Nice Nana. They are very very funny. In fact they are beautiful. More on this later. Much more.

This is entirely true..........................

I did the ton in '61
On a Matchless 650 cc,
Without a crash-hat
On his pillion I sat,
Dave Jeffries, the M1,
and me.

Such rebels we were then,
Out in all weathers,
Me in my blue jeans
And him in black leathers,
We lived for excitment,
Rock music, fun,
Hells Angels,
The Cellar Club,
Doing The Ton.

I saw him last week,
Old now, and plumper,
In natty check trousers
And M & S jumper,
The King of the Bikers,
Selecting a cauli,
Padding round Safeways,
Pushing his trolley.

In Praise of Older Women

Feast your eyes upon me, I'm anti-cellulite,
I lollop on the collagen, and re-hydrate at night.
Go on, have a good look, I don't mind if you stare,
I'm using Agent Orange, to removc unwanted hair.
I am mighty clever, I have a degree,
A First in liposuction, Enzyme technology,
Ceramide and Liposomes, a polyfilla pack,
To stay firm is my war-cry, no slack, no slack, no slack.

Look what I'm achieving, I work assiduously,
Given subtle lighting, I could feature on page 3.
I won't be heard assuming, my looks are down to luck,
It's grooming, grooming, grooming,
And once a week .........a pluck.

I buff up in the shower, and then ex-foliate,
I stick a hose into my bum, to colon irrigate.
I'm full of self-assurance, and very finely honed,
I am near perfection, with every muscle toned.
I have just one aim in life, my sole priority,
Every day I concentrate, on me, me, me.
I had a little hiccup, but coped quite easily,
Now I'm Tena Lady, discreet and odour free.
My research is quite arduous, the Internet I surf it,
I buy a lot of L'Oreal, and that's because I'm worth it.

I'm standing here before you, and I am living proof,
Rejuvenating creams work, the adverts tell the truth.
Look at me and marvel, for I am ninety-two,
And I'm not telling porkies,
it's true, it's true, IT'S TRUE.

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Tickle Your Fancy

I thought we should spice up our love life,
We were both feeling terribly bored.
I felt that there must be a fetish
That so far we hadn't explored.
I felt, spon spon spontaneity mattered,
And so we abandoned our bed,
And snuck down the garden at midnight,
To try a quick **** in the shed.
It really was very ironic,
A dibber smashed down on his head,
I heard him emitting a terrible groan,
As it smashed the seed boxes
(Including his own),
We had cocoa and biscuits instead.
We both had mislaid our libidos,
Our sex drives were slowly abating,
So we rushed to Ann Summers and purchased
Some items I thought...titillating.
We jumped into bed clad in rubber,
But this failed to come up to scratch,
As the temperature rose in the bedroom,
It started to smell like Brands Hatch.
He then tried a whip, and a fearful black mask,
'Cos he hoped I'd be turned on by danger,
To his chagrin however, I started to laugh,
'Cos he looked like the bloody Lone Ranger.
We thought then we'd try the Mile High Club,
That the altitude might turn us on,
But the cabin crew caught us undressing,
We were marched off the plane in Hong Kong.
You have to admire our persistence,
I mean, could it really get worse?
I have to record that it bloody well did,
Hence the number of lines in this verse.
We went to the woods, to swing from the trees,
Although it was darkest December,
The bracken and bark scratched both of my knees,
And pierced his recalcitrant member.
We went to a wife-swapping party,
Nil desperandum, no doubt,
He dangled his bait,
But by a cruel twist of fate,
He landed the self-same old trout!