Lost in Translation

The radio has been a constant scource of amusement this week, probably as I have, as usual spent a lot of time in my car travelling to and from visits.

Fire advice from the Scottish Fire Board

A leaflet was produced by Scottish fire brigades in several ethnic languages advising what to do if there is a fire in the home. Advice for if you really need to jump: 'Use a cushion to break your fall from an upstairs window.' However when produced it was realised that the word cushion had not been used instead it read 'Use a Donkey to break your fall from an upstairs window.' This made me laugh out loud. Imagine the scene! and just where are you going to get a donkey from in the middle of Glascow?

Next news item that made me laugh. A lady in America was very upset when her deceased pekenese dog called Billy received call up papers from the Army and was told to report for a medical examination bringing with him identification papers and Swimming trunks! Do you know if the dog was still alive I would of loved to have taken him along for the appointment!

These stories reminded me of a report I heard way back in the seventies during the miners strike, at the same time a space flight and moon landing was happening. The news reader first gave us an update on the latest moon landing and then went onto talk about the miners where a union official had announced the government 'was looking for spacegoats!' Well of course I new he he meant scape goats, but for one lovely moment I had this glorious mental image of astronauts seeing little goats floating by.

Pancake Day!

I came of age today, at least a lady of a certain age! I was called for my first breast screening. Boy does it make your eyes water. First one by one they are put on a metal plate then another metal plate is pushed down extremely hard squashing the poor 'Pammy' as flat as possible. They then turn the whole caboodle round and squash the poor boob sideways. I sure know how a pancake feels. Still it is a very worthwhile operation.

Not a Boy, Not a Girl, but a Sharon.

Some of the children in nursery had started potty training, some of the boys were very keen to tell me they were wearing 'big boy's pants' I told them how impressed I was and got into a conversation as to who was a boy and who was a girl after one little girl also told me she was wearing 'big boy's pants. After they had all told me whether they were a boy or a girl I asked if I was a boy or a girl. Ethan looked at me and said 'silly, you're a Sharon!'

I used my old forgotten trick of getting a smile out of a sulking or sad child today.
Try it.

'Oh no what's happened to your lovely smile, have you lost it? oh no here it is hiding in my pocket! ready..... catch' and pretend to throw it towards the child. They just cannot help laughing! They all then try (and fail) to have sad faces so You can find their smiles in the your pocket. Magic!

Talking of magic, on my way back from nursery I noticed the car in front of me on the A46 (a Four x four) had the number plate 'MAGIC' I was intrigued and as I passed it saw the logo on the side announcing 'The Paul Daniels Magic Workshops' and low and behold Debbie Magee was driving with Paul her passenger. I liked it, not a lot! (To my USA friend, that's his catch phrase)