Posts Tagged ‘dog’

The time we missed Independence Day

When I lived in namibia, I was 18. We have all been 18. Therefore, I hope you not judge me too harshly after I tell you the story about Independence Day, the biggest day of the year in Namibia.

They had worked hard for their independence and it was in everyone’s recent memory. I was 18. I didn’t appreciate the importance of this day. The night before Independence Day was the Crayfish Derby in Luderitz. This was more for the Afrikaners than anyone else.

We got there mid-afternoon and watched all the men go off in their fishing boats and we then had about four hours until the men would come back with a crayfish and have them weighed to see who had the biggest and who would win. In this four hours, we were given free drinks and food because people recognised us as the poor volunteers in town. We had a town meeting to go to so we stayed for about an hour then walk back into town to go to this meeting.

It was when we were walking back that we realised we were a little drunk. Our dog, Diaz, was with us. She was always with us. And so she came to the town hall with us. We hoped that we didn’t appear too drunk and decided to stay silent and smile a lot. When the meeting started, we had chosen two seats on the end of a row and sat silently scribbling notes for the local town newspaper, which we ran.

They decided to do that thing where everyone introduces himself and they started at the end of the row that we were at. So much for keeping out of the way. Lucy stood up, giggled a little and introduce herself. When I stood up, the giggles had grown and I was almost laughing out loud. It suddenly all seemed so hilarious. I said my name, pointed at lucy and said, “yeh, the Buchter News as well,” and sat down. It had not started well.

After everyone else introduced themselves and we took a few obligatory photographs, the dog made an appearance. We had left her outside but someone must have opened the door and she had snuck in. She came over and sat down near us. We knew what she was like but we hoped she would behave today. She did not behave. She wound her way in and out of everyone else’s chairs and then some empty chairs which caused them to move a little and scrape on the floor. It sounded like a fart.

We giggled. We were not professional.

The meeting lasted 2 hours and we didn’t really listen to anything. We left and headed straight back to the Crayfish Derby. The men would be back in a few hours and until then, there was eating and drinking time. We whipped out the camera a few times to take photos and then people remembered that we were the poor newspaper volunteers and fed us again for free.

When the men had come back, they all weighed their crayfish and we spent the evening celebrating and dancing.

The next morning there was a big celebration in the nearby stadium. It was Independence Day for the whole country. We had not been clever to stay late at the Crayfish Derby but we got up and we made a way to the stadium with good intention. We got there at 9 o’clock, found a seat and sat down to wait. It was supposed to be starting at about 9.30. We waited. 10 o’clock came. We waited. 10.30 came.

I don’t know what we expected. we had been living in Africa for long enough to know that 9.30 does not mean 9.30. We were suffering. We had not had enough sleep. We were totally exposed, sitting in the hot sun and dehydrated from our night out. We realised it would probably be midday before anything significant happened.

We decided to go home for sleep. Just a little one. Just a nap. Just for an hour or so. We’d be back at mid day. As we were leaving the stadium, our close friend, George, arrived and why we were leaving. We told him that we just needed to pop home for something quickly. We didn’t want to tell him we had to sleep because we were dehydrated and knackered from our night out. We said we would be back before anything got going.

We went home, headed for the front room, sat on the sofa and fell asleep. When we woke up, it was quite late in the afternoon. We ran out of the house into the street. We lived on a hill so we could see down into the stadium. There were not many people in the stadium. They were leaving.

The celebrations were over and we had missed the entire day.

The entire Independence Day. The most important day of the year in Namibia and we had slept on the sofa instead.

But we were the local newspaper volunteers. We ran the only town newspaper. If we didn’t report Independence Day, it would look strange. So we got the two or three photographs we had taken of the decorations at the stadium and some of the photos of the town major and a few of the other people we knew had made speeches and we wrote the article for the newspaper as though we had been there.

It went something like this – “The Independence Day celebrations were enjoyed by all. This day marks a special day in Namibia’s history. Since 1980, Namibia has been free of outside control and its’ people are free to pursue their own goals. The town mayor encompassed these feelings exactly in a speech in which she praised Namibians for their resilience and talked of the wonderful things that have been achieved under a free Namibian government.”

I mean that’s probably what she said, isn’t it? We said there had been performances by children from the local schools, which we knew because we also worked as teachers in a few schools and had seen groups of children preparing their performances for the Independence Day celebrations.

And with nothing else to do but go with it, we let the newspaper go out that month with the main story a kind of hashed together patchwork blanket of guesses and photographs we had taken of other things.

No one said anything. No one commented on the lack of detail about the celebrations or about the mayor’s speech. No one noticed that the photographs didn’t look like they were taken in an outdoor stadium.

And it was fine.

I must reiterate, readers, I was 18. This seemed like acceptable behaviour. Please do not judge me.

Tinned spaghetti and chubby Dachshunds

Today, I’m just going to do a quick round up of this week’s Chat magazine. Yesterday contained the best stuff. Today’s is really the stuff I feel I can’t let you go on without knowing.

This stuff is important for your life.

First up, the dog that was so fat it looked like a big pillow. Look.

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The caption next to the second photo says, wittily, “Does my bum look big in this?” And yes, big fat dog. The answer is yes. Your bum does look big in that.

The vet lady who took it in and vowed to then it’s life around describes how she put him on a diet and eventually he lost some weight and then, like a human, he had to have an operation to cut off his hangy skin after losing all the weight.

Ridiculous.

Next, the couple who wears the same clothes and have some for 35 years. I’m pretty sure most people know about them as they’ve been in lots of magazines and newspapers but this picture is something new that I’ve not seen before. Them in matching jarmies. Check it out!

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Looking good….

And last but not least, I couldn’t have put away this week’s Chat without telling you all about the latest value for money in the world of food. Each week, Chat do a column which reviews one item of food from all different shops or brands and grades them out of 10. Well, this week, there’s one which I know you’ll all be itching to hear the results for….

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Yup. Tinned spaghetti. Can we get a shout out for TINNED SPAGHETTI, my friends?! Woooooop! Who loves tinned spaghetti? Waaaaaah! ME! Me!

And in case you’re wondering, Tesco won this one. Their 28p tinned spaghetti was described as a ‘teatime treat.’ If I served up tinned spaghetti in my house and told everyone it was a ‘treat’, I think I’d have a mutiny on my hands.

A teatime treat?! Spare me this madness.

Squirrels, dogs and cats

Well, everyone, after the last two days, I’ll bet you thought we were done with Chat. As did I. But then I found the back page story, which is generally reserved for the wackiest stories, the kind of thing which have an element of the unhinged to them. Let me remind you of other stories that have found their way to the back page.

There was the woman who knitted an entire troop of pirates and had them on her bed with her. There was the couple who got driven to their wedding in a skip. There was the woman who makes freaky zombie dolls and gives them to people as gifts. That, my friends, is the kind of story that appears on the back page.

And this week is no different. Check it out. The article is called ‘Nutty but nice.’ Clever.

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Hmm. An adventure park for squirrels? What on earth can this mean?

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O, ok. I get it. That’s what she means. She’s made a mini hot air balloon with some nuts in the basket so the squirrel will sit in it.

Yehhhh… She doesn’t mention having a job. That might be something to do with it.

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No, your eyes are not deceiving you, that is a squirrel in a pram on the left and a squirrel ‘cleaning windows’ on the right.

She even set up a Santa sleigh full of nuts, photographed the squirrels when they stood next to it then sent it out as her Christmas card. Hmmm.

I just… I don’t… I can’t even think what to say about this. A squirrel adventure park. Seriously, now. People get their kicks in strange ways. Maybe she should try taking up a hobby, origami perhaps?

And now, for something completely different. A Bingo Dog!

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And last but not least, the Photo of the Week, a cat sitting on a table.

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D is for….

DOG!

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(This is a picture of my friend’s dog, not mine, as you will see.)

I’ve never really been a dog person. You know, they’re just there, being dogs. And I’m just here, being me. And our paths very rarely cross.

One of my first doggy memories is of a little girl racing across the back field at a million miles an hour, closely followed by a barking dog. Behind our back garden was the large back field that she was running across and she was heading in our direction. We opened the gate into our garden and she ran in and we shut the gate so the dog couldn’t follow her. In my mind there are quite a few people there, all watching this little girl being chased across the field by the dog. Now that I’m writing it, it seems like a slightly wierd thing to have happened. I’m not sure of this is an actual memory or a creation of my overactive childhood imagination.

My next experience of dogs was when we, as a family, decided to get a dog. My brother was excited and I did whatever he did so suddenly, without really thinking about whether I really liked dogs, there was one there, in our house, yap-yap-yapping. I was about seven and too nervous to speak up but I was pretty scared of it. It was little and excited and loud. I was horrified at its jumpy-loudness.

My brother played with it and threw it things and what fun he had. I stayed in the hallway and listened to them in the front room. Eventually I decided to go and see the new dog. I went into the front room and it jumped for me. I ran away from it and it chased me. I ran around in a circle panicking and shouting for someone to open the door, which they did, and I made my escape.

I did not approach the dog again that evening. The next day, when I came home from school, it had been returned to the shop.

And that, my good friends, is the sum total of my experiences with dogs.

Well, I lie. We had a dog when I lived in Africa but that was more like looking after a child in a dog’s body. She came and went as she pleased and very often wet herself while sleeping.

300 posts!

That’s right. A whole 300 posts! And what fun it’s been. I was trying to think of something significantly 300ish to do to celebrate this feat but so far, since Yaya stayed over last night, I think the only 300s I have achieved today have been watching 300 kids programmes, putting 300 pennies into a piggy bank, making 300 play-doh animals and playing hide and seek 300 times.

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So I checked in with the world wide web for some impressive 300-related world records. The first thing I came across was this brilliant record of having over 300 dogs’ teeth brushed all at once. What’s not to love?! Unfortunately, I am 312 dogs short of being able to even attempt this record so that’s out.

Another great 300 record is the British man who holds the record for putting on the most pair of pants. He wanted to be the first man to put on more than 300 pairs and he has achieved it in quite a spectacular way. Check out the photo of him. Unfortunately, I think I don’t own enough Y-fronts to even attempt this. Even if I wanted to just put all my clothes on, as a pretend attempt at this, I don’t think there would be 300.

My next thought was of food. What could I do that would be food related and about the number 300? I found this, in my Google search, which looks epic and, were I a fan of crabcakes, I’d be all ready to make my own 300lb snack. Unfortunately I am not so I shall remain, happily, crabcake-less.

And then I found the ultimate world record holder. In fact, he holds so many records, he has the world record for holding so many records, over 300! I thought that if I started on his list, then I could possibly get 300 world records too, to celebrate my 300th post! There are a lot of underwater ones, like pogo stick jumping, juggling and unicycling which, so far as I know, probably wouldn’t be allowed in my local pool. So those are out.

He holds the record for balancing a pool cue on his finger and walking the longest distance whilst at the pyramids in Egypt. As I’m in England, that one is also out. I did find a few I can attempt though. Here goes.

Attempt no. 1 – Walking up stairs for 1 minute while balancing a book on my head.
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It was easier than I thought it would be, perhaps due to the fact that I had a soft back book, which flopped onto the shape of the top of my head and I hardly had to try at all. I got a bit cocky though and looked down to check where the step was and dropped it after 103. The record is currently 122 so I’ve got a bit of work to so on that one.

Attempt no. 2 – Most golf balls picked up with toes.
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I spent the entire minute trying to grip any of the balls and wishing for longer toes. I ended up with a grand total of zero.

For my last attempt, I decided I would attempt to sit on the sofa reading Narnia for the longest time ever, for 300 hours! That is soon to be thwarted though, as I have work in two hours…. O well. I tried….

Search terms 3

Ok, it’s the third installment of the Search Terms posts. In this one, we have your average search about Highgate or Kingston Uni or what to do with bingo wings. But then right at the bottom, a strange Donald Duck search, which must have lead to disappointment when Google sent them to me….

lazylauramaisey
dairylea triangles music
“ici logo”/ “wavy lines”
things to remember while swimming
deaflympics in brazil 2016
are you going to scarborough fair?
vaynites
upstairs downstairs
robinson helicopter garage
the grove highgate george michael
sandy denny maddy prior
once i’ve finished i dont like them
the song remind me of the good time
london eye chairoplane
inspirational quotes about new adventures
laura maisey
gold leaf wedding cake disaster
alwasy moisturise bingo wings
how do i put my kingston email
i like my childhood friend who is my hero
inspirational quotes
kate moss house highgate coleridge
salt works liverpool 1871
i don’t want to finish reading my book
through on my mind right now
my reflection in swimming in word
motivational quotes about journey in life
fromromewithlove.de
what do people say about working with chickens
taxi drivers don’t know the way
first bikram yoga class fainting
i don’t want to finish reading my book
skytrain o2 arena
whelk stall
what is the background laughter in parties
drunks refuse to pay for taxi cabs
chairoplane london eye
moss covered stump
upstairs downstairs 2012 and downton abbey
cockle & welks stalls 1950’s pics
store with this apron close to pantheon
why do i say things twice
goat and dog train boy
trolleyology
college bucket list
hit by bird droppings
goat met dog
what are renegade squats
which road in highgate does george michael live on
listening the songs reminds me of holiday
shakeing my head when swimming
who said “freedom is the absence”
letters and dolls
neologism of big brother
did it rain on may 7 2012
dedication sample
why do kids say things twice
my feeling about olympics
freedom rules
things to remember when swimming
books about truffles
a memo in a polite way to my lazy dog
kingston uni pgce interview
donald duck girls big tits

Wedding goats and dog training

Ok. It’s time to revisit everyone’s favourite magazine again. That’s right. Chat. The best magazine in the world. I shall now prove this by sharing some of the amazing titbits I found inside this week’s offering.

Firstly, I had to buy it when I saw it because in the top left hand corner were the words ‘You’ve goat to be kidding me.’ I just knew it was going to be amazing. Sure enough, when you flip to the back page, there’s a picture of a lady in a wedding dress with some goats on leads and the words ‘Me and the kids.’ The goat puns don’t stop there though. There’s a picture of the bride with her bridesmaids and goats, with the caption ‘Say (goat’s) cheese everyone!’

The story is about a woman who works at an animal rescue centre and loves the goats. The way she talks about them in the article is hilarious. She says to her fiance one day, ‘I met a wonderful goat at the centre today.’

She met a goat? She met it? Really? As though she was at her local, having a pint, and she saw someone also alone, so sidled over and gave it her best chat-up line. Then came home and said she’d met a wonderful goat.

Anyway, fiance proposes, they’re planning the wedding. By this point she’s ‘met’ another really great goat called Geoff. She says to fiance she wants the goats involved in the wedding – ‘I want Geoff to be ringbearer and Fuschia to be maid of honour – no butts!’ She then tells us about getting big gold satin bows for the goats and little thingys for their hooves and finishes off by saying, ‘Yes, it’s an odd love story, mine and Martin’s. But you know what? I bleatin’ love it that way!’ Fabulous.

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Ok, another great story is a little short one at the end. The basic outline goes like this – my daughter is 14, I like her hair long so she’s never ever had it cut, she decided the other day to get it all cut off, look, here it is her cut-off hair. Fascinating stuff.

One of the letters written in to the problem page is pretty good. It’s about something really serious. A real problem that is unable to be resolved through any other channels. Good job Chat is here to help people who have real emergencies…. ‘I’ve got two cats. My partner has a dog. We’ve just moved in together but his dog hates one of my cats. He snarls and chases her whenever he sees her. How do we resolve this?’

And the advice? Tell the dog ‘No!’ when he starts chasing the cat.

Phew! Thanks, Chat! They’re so helpful. If it weren’t for them, how would Frances, 40, have ever worked out what to do when the dog is chasing the cat around. I imagine her sitting on the sofa, blankly staring at the dog chasing the cat around the front room and thinking, in despair, ‘I’m sure there’s something I should be doing here to prevent this from happening. I just can’t think what it is. I know, I’ll write to Chat.’ She buys Chat the following week, eagerly flips to the letters page and there it is, the answer to all her problems! At last! She can hear the dog growling and chasing the cat in the back garden and she runs out there, Chat in hand, a light switch has gone on in her world. She sees the dog and the cat and yells ‘NO! NO!’ The dog looks up, surprised. What is this word he’s never heard before? Something tells him he’s being shouted at. He slopes off to hide somewhere and the cat potters away, free from the constant torture, happy at last. Frances’ world is transformed. Chat has saved her. Thank god for Chat.

Another letter is the ‘Facebook photo of the week’ which is just of a little boy in swimming trunks. He’s just standing there in his trunks, smiling. Nothing to merit being photo of the week. His name, we are told, is Noah-Freddie. Poor child.

Ok, one last bit of amazingness for you. A top tip. Are you ready? This could really help you at home actually, transform your life even. Ok. Here goes.

Use a peice of dry bread to clean your lampshades.

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