Some Dialogue Since I’ve Been Home

Some Dialogue Since I’ve Been Home

Dad: I need to figure out what to do with your grandad.

Me: What do you mean?

Dad: Well, he’s just sitting through in the office.

Me: His ashes?

Dad: Mmm.

Me: Why don’t you scatter them in the sea? He loved the sea.

Dad: Well, I promised him I’d put bury his ashes next to Grandma’s but I promised her I wouldn’t put his ashes anywhere near her.

Me: Oh.

 

Me: Get your feet off the table!

Brother: What? They’re clean. Smell them.

Me: No! You’ve been walking on the floor all morning.

Brother: Fine, I’ll put on my shoes.

 

Dad: People keep wishing me a happy 70th birthday. How can I possibly have a happy 70th birthday? It’s a contradiction in terms, isn’t it?

 

Dad: So Norm, I was thinking I’d make you macaroni and cheese tonight. We’re going to have beef.

Brother: I don’t eat cheese. I’m vegan now.

Dad: Oh for fuck’s sake.

 

Brother: I go swimming now.

Me: I’ve joined a gym!

Brother: Jesus, I couldn’t join a gym.

Me: Going swimming is practically going to a gym.

Brother: I prefer cycling.

Me: I cycle AND go to the gym.

Dad: I turn over onto my other side to avoid bed sores.

 

Dad: I’ll never be as smart as I was when I was 18.

Dad (to me): You were never smart when you were 18.

Me: I know, I was just thinking that.

Sister: You were nice though.

 

Dad: What are you, Fraser?

Boyfriend: My star sign?

Me: He’s an Aries.

Sister: Oh, fire!

Me: His midheaven is all air though.

 

Me: Dad, what is that?

Dad: What do you think it is?

Me: Grass?

Dad: Parsley.

Me: No, Dad. Seriously, what is it? Is it grass?

Dad: Yes.

Me: Is grass and weed the same thing?

Whole family: Of course it is.

A Dilemma

A Dilemma

*First-World-Problem Alert*

Hmm. So I’m at home at the minute and…and my mum has pretty much stolen all of my books. No, not “pretty much”, she HAS stolen all of books.

I didn’t notice last night. I was too sleepy and too excited at being home. So sleepy and so excited that I skipped around the whole house and then fell fast asleep on the couch. It wasn’t until this morning that I realised that every single shelf in the house is filled with my books.

When did that happen?

I haven’t been home since Christmas so I’m guessing sometime between then and now.

Hmm.

I don’t know if I should say anything. Does she know that I’m planning on having a library room in the house of my dreams? Probably. Does she know that when that happens I will drive home in a big van and take all of my childhood and teenage books? Probably not.

I get that they were just piling up in my bedroom for no one to see and that they’re probably a lot happier in the shelves Mum has put them in, but it just means that I won’t be able to take them. Because how can I? I know I said I would, but I can’t rip them from their beloved home. If they were still in boxes and sad piles in my bedroom, they’d GLADLY come with me to my new house with a fancy library, but they’re happy where the are now and they’d only be sad and scared if I moved them. AND they wouldn’t know the books of my adult (ish) years. What if those books make fun of them or think them stupid?

For the love of god, what the hell am I talking about? You see? This is what happens when you get writer’s block. You start writing absolute shit. I’d be really impressed if you’re still reading. Really, REALLY impressed.

I’ll just stop now.

 

Spar-ing it Up

Spar-ing it Up

Image

So after my lovely travels to Greece, the west coast of Scotland, and Spain; I have now returned to my home village and the job that I have had for the past six years on and off: THE SPAR. I can’t believe I’m working there again – it’s like a drug and I’m reluctantly going back for more. Sometimes I get a bit embarrassed when people come in and go “Oh, you’re back again?” and I think that they’re thinking, So THIS is how you spend our taxes? You get a job that you had BEFORE uni? Why don’t you put that place to good use and get a nice internship somewhere…but I’m sure that’s me just being paranoid – they really, probably, don’t give a shit.

To those who follow my blog (if you give a shit): DON’T FEAR. There are just as many funny stories to come from the Spar as there are abroad and to be honest, the ones from the Spar are probably funnier, although I would laugh at a hole in a biscuit so I’ll let you be the judge of that. If, after the tenth blog about another dropped jar of Lloyd Grossman’s Chicken Korma, you wish to de-follow, feel free.

I won’t cry.

But already there’s a wee scandal afoot. One day, a customer came in to drop by Better Together leaflets, but when, the next day, he came to check that they were still there, they were GONE. DUN DUN DUN. Turns out, it was a member of staff that had hidden them, in a torrent of rage no doubt. DRAMA. But it doesn’t stop there. Another customer, on seeing the Better Together leaflets, handed in her own ones that supported the YES! campaign and you know what happened? Someone hid them! I have my suspicions that it was the Better Together customer, but I can’t be certain. I shall employ my detective skills today and see what I can find out. The owners are on the verge of declaring the Spar a neutral, free-of-politics, zone (we can’t have that, can we? The social hub of the community?) so something must be done!

Yeah, ok, go ahead and de-follow.