oops I just realised when I tried to turn off the bold I put the slash after the b instead of before so maybe that’s how to get everything to stay bold.
Maybe if I do it right now it might work.
As a kid my mother always gave me the sort of folded-over end-of-the-bone-bit of the leg-of-lamb-roast which had a very yummy bit of meat on it (after it was roasted I hasten to add). Apparently it was “because I was the youngest and it will help me grow”.
Recently, I was at Mum’s place and yes, she was “doing” her famous lamb roast (I used to give up dates with Tom Cruise for that lamb roast – apparently). So I asked her if I could have that folded-over end-of-the-bone-bit and she said that she now uses it for stock and then she tapped me on my corpulent gut and said: “I used to give you that to help you grow; you are 49 years old now and I think you’ve grown enough”.
Mothers hey? They don’t need EMC’s html skills to be bold…
Mum has cut the string, Andrew L. I feel we have been witnesses in our own belated way.
I, too, was the youngest encouraged to grow to catch up with the others (some years ahead of me in years). At an interesting ACCESS business studies program I did as a student (in my late 30s), the participants (women) were given a choice of two electives, one to be chosen from a list (and one we were encouraged to randomly name; a lecturer would be found to provide tuition). A large proportion of the students chose a listed elective on lines of Personal Developement. It was delightful, made enjoyable. Anyway, the subject of where in the family we were placed happened to emerge in a round robin and became the focus of our interest, nay astonishment. Every one of us it transpired was the youngest of their siblings other than one who was the eldest. I ask you…
Peter, ’tis stuff, circumstance and the rough parliament of hope. With First dog on our side and Bernard baying at my cat Antigone (stop that!) who can stand against us?
Preening, I even have a say in the angle of the dangle of the Monk’s ears. He ain’t so bad–well, so long as he leaves disabled pensioners like me alone in the comparative luxury to which we are ac-costumed. The rest, which is considerable, goes to the Smith Family in the form of a big cardboard cheque. We do what we can do to help the downtrodden, tho M. Nancy calls them bums. She’s harm. Harsh. Mars is a harsh mistress — b/cause she’s in the script wpproved of by Jimmy Carter via email, we can’t change over Reagan’s face, a mobile elephant’s scrotum and Genesee Industries bagman. Orin’s three now.
Bernard, merely allow me to comment –I won’t do it too much, mind, and I will make you rich beyond the the dreams of of avirice avaricew. Or I’ll let Lulz tear you apart.
The Choice I Yours.
Thanks, Peter. 🙂
Whoops last for t’day honest sshpams out precious. gotochicagomakemoney.blogspot.com yes it might be against the house rules–watch it or U’ll get the out house. Peace! 🙂
SILENCE from moi. V. Carry on regardless and as U were the rest of my Friends for such you are.
59 thoughts on “Remember when, neither do I. But what if we did?”
ernmalleyscat
February 16, 2012 at 5:21 pmoops I just realised when I tried to turn off the bold I put the slash after the b instead of before so maybe that’s how to get everything to stay bold.
Maybe if I do it right now it might work.
zut alors
February 16, 2012 at 5:41 pmEMC, you sure are pushing the playful kitten routine .
Bretty
February 16, 2012 at 6:03 pmI still hold my breath when I pierce the foil of a new tin of milo. It’s as close as I get to a sacrament.
Sandshoe
February 16, 2012 at 7:05 pmZUT: EMC oughtn’t be allowed the end of the string.
Andrew L
February 16, 2012 at 7:54 pmAs a kid my mother always gave me the sort of folded-over end-of-the-bone-bit of the leg-of-lamb-roast which had a very yummy bit of meat on it (after it was roasted I hasten to add). Apparently it was “because I was the youngest and it will help me grow”.
Recently, I was at Mum’s place and yes, she was “doing” her famous lamb roast (I used to give up dates with Tom Cruise for that lamb roast – apparently). So I asked her if I could have that folded-over end-of-the-bone-bit and she said that she now uses it for stock and then she tapped me on my corpulent gut and said: “I used to give you that to help you grow; you are 49 years old now and I think you’ve grown enough”.
Mothers hey? They don’t need EMC’s html skills to be bold…
Sandshoe
February 16, 2012 at 10:48 pmMum has cut the string, Andrew L. I feel we have been witnesses in our own belated way.
I, too, was the youngest encouraged to grow to catch up with the others (some years ahead of me in years). At an interesting ACCESS business studies program I did as a student (in my late 30s), the participants (women) were given a choice of two electives, one to be chosen from a list (and one we were encouraged to randomly name; a lecturer would be found to provide tuition). A large proportion of the students chose a listed elective on lines of Personal Developement. It was delightful, made enjoyable. Anyway, the subject of where in the family we were placed happened to emerge in a round robin and became the focus of our interest, nay astonishment. Every one of us it transpired was the youngest of their siblings other than one who was the eldest. I ask you…
Peter Ormonde
February 17, 2012 at 10:18 amI’m pomped.
Bob Robson
February 17, 2012 at 1:42 pmPeter, ’tis stuff, circumstance and the rough parliament of hope. With First dog on our side and Bernard baying at my cat Antigone (stop that!) who can stand against us?
Preening, I even have a say in the angle of the dangle of the Monk’s ears. He ain’t so bad–well, so long as he leaves disabled pensioners like me alone in the comparative luxury to which we are ac-costumed. The rest, which is considerable, goes to the Smith Family in the form of a big cardboard cheque. We do what we can do to help the downtrodden, tho M. Nancy calls them bums. She’s harm. Harsh. Mars is a harsh mistress — b/cause she’s in the script wpproved of by Jimmy Carter via email, we can’t change over Reagan’s face, a mobile elephant’s scrotum and Genesee Industries bagman. Orin’s three now.
Bernard, merely allow me to comment –I won’t do it too much, mind, and I will make you rich beyond the the dreams of of avirice avaricew. Or I’ll let Lulz tear you apart.
The Choice I Yours.
Thanks, Peter. 🙂
Bob Robson
February 17, 2012 at 1:47 pmWhoops last for t’day honest sshpams out precious. gotochicagomakemoney.blogspot.com yes it might be against the house rules–watch it or U’ll get the out house. Peace! 🙂
SILENCE from moi. V. Carry on regardless and as U were the rest of my Friends for such you are.