let's make some plans... 'cos they can go wrong

I realise I probably over did it with the modern music references in the last blog. This may have alienated some of our avid readers, so this time I will be leaving it well alone. Therefore there will be absolutely no mention of Cliff and the Shadows and their particular brand of new fangled popular music.
In fact my last blog effort got me into a bit of strife (primarily with the trouble and strife). Actually, it was the rather feeble ‘Curtin (it is pronounced Curtain, by the way) University gag that landed me in hot water. The last course Wendy did was at Curtin Uni, the course that she is about to do is at Murdoch (you crazy fool) University. This was all information that had apparently been related to me (probably more than once) in the English language, but possibly in words of more than one syllable. To be fair, in order to be able to remember such trivial things as these I would have to make room in my already cluttered brain by removing other information. I would probably have to jettison such vital facts as the 1978 FA Cup winners, the name of the lead singer of the Primitives, and the winner of the 1993 Grand National (the race that never was). Come to think of it I could get away with forgetting all that stuff and then if I need it again I can simply phone my brother and ask him – he knows even more pointless trivia, than I do anyway.

George had an enjoyable birthday despite an inauspicious start to the weekend. I should point out that some of George’s recent birthdays haven’t exactly gone according to plan - there have been tears and tantrums (and George got pretty upset as well). Amongst other incidents there was the episode involving BA Baracus and a plate of tapas (not that it’s important, but the tapas in question was chorizo in red wine... see, why do I need to remember that – which part of the brain is responsible for storing that little gem?). Needless to say BA came off second best (I ain’t getting on no plane). And then last year there was the curious case of the gift voucher that you aren’t allowed to use until you’ve counted to 46,896 (it would take far too long to explain here).
With these mishaps fresh in his memory George decided to combat the possibility of further catastrophes by meticulously planning his birthday down to the most miniscule detail. What could possibly go wrong? Well, for starters, George woke up on Friday morning with a cold – which must be due to the fact that the average daily temperature over the last four months has been 30 degrees. Actually, it might have been brought on by George having had swimming lessons in the sea (with school) everyday for the previous two weeks. I’m not certain, but I think that could also be where he got his jellyfish stings from (obviously he never got them from his guitar lessons... they don’t start ‘til next week). Then, the skate park where he had intended to spend most of Saturday afternoon was closed to the general public so it could be used for some sort of tournament. From what I could work out the tournament was being held to find who had the most unkempt hair, and the most ridiculous trousers (I was placed very highly in both categories). But, thankfully, that was where the misfortune ended. Miraculously, using only the power of retail therapy-fresh orange juice-and half a bottle of Benilyn, by Sunday George’s cold had gone. His birthday meal, in the Korean BBQ restaurant, was a complete success (please note: no dogs were knowingly eaten, and no A Team characters were harmed during this event). All in all, he’s looking forward to his next birthday, we aren’t though... he’ll be 13 (Cue dramatic music).

Hattie has already started working on her birthday celebrations. During an extensive search of her bedroom, in an attempt to locate her ipod, I came across four birthday goodie bags (complete with names) lurking under Hattie’s bed. I’m clinging forlornly to the hope that there aren’t another dozen bags secreted somewhere in the darker recesses of her boudoir. FYI The ipod was eventually found sandwiched between two fairy books.

Wendy told me the other day that she is making enquiries about joining a Smurf school. When she mentioned it again today, I said what do you do there then wear a silly hat and turn blue? And she said no you don’t turn blue because they provide you with a wet suit (??). It’s no use, next time I’m just going to have to listen to what she is saying to me.
I was definitely paying attention last Friday when she told me that her business trip to the UK would be in six days time. It turned out to be a false alarm, and she is likely to be going to South Africa and the UK end of April beginning of May (sounds like it’s going to coincide with the World snooker Championships).

As for my trip. There was some very prompt action after my last blog (and not all of it legal action directed against me for libel), as a result of which I am just about fully booked up. I now only have a small half hour window available on the second Tuesday... we could do lunch. Kebab anyone?