The Poor Purple Corsa

For Day 3 of the Blogtober17  challenge with HexMum the prompt is ‘Car’. I didn’t learn to drive until I was 27. I was never really interested nor could I afford it being a single parent but I managed to scrape the money every week and spend an hour with a man with an inate ability to talk non stop for an hour and not breathe. He didn’t have time I swear!

He was a funny man, always in smart business wear despite the fact he was boiling most of the time and his directions went from “and if you could just pull up here” to “pull over into the other lane now or you’re going to be squashed dead by that lorry.”

I wasn’t a very confident learner, mind you that’s pretty much me all over. I was forever saying I couldn’t and he was forever telling me I could. And after about 45 lessons I did. Well actually I didn’t, I failed the first time with my reverse around a corner. Something I have not once done in my 12 years of driving. I passed the second time with a few minors.

My Mum took me to buy my first car, as a surprise. Isn’t she awesome?! It was a purple Corsa 1.2 and I loved it! She made me drive it home across several dual carriageways and about 10 miles from home, I swear she did it on purpose! I crapped myself, not literally but it wasn’t far off and the one thing I will always remember about that day is getting stuck in the carpark outside her house. It was on a slant and there were cars everywhere, being used to learning with power steering and then having a car without was a recipe for disaster. I’m convinced to this day she got out and left me to it on purpose so I would just have to get on with it. She denies it of course but I know!

It took me a good 20 minutes and a 3456426 point turn to get out of there, by which time I’d attracted the neighbours. They obviously wouldn’t have known that I’d just passed my test but there isn’t really any need to be quite such a dick pointing and laughing is there?! I got out eventually, obviously! I didn’t die there in my little Corsa gripping the steering wheel and gritting my teeth. Bet the knobhead neighbours would have just tutted at me being in their way even if I had.

One normal boring old day I was pootling to work (love that word) and my poor purple Corsa and I had no idea it was the day it would go to the scrap heap in the sky.

I was on a dual carriageway approaching a roundabout to go straight over, nothing from my right so kept going. Out of nowhere someone coming from the left of the roundabout drove straight across in front of me. I shit a brick, braked as hard as possible, skidded a bit and smashed straight into the side of him. No air bags in my car so there I am sat in my car staring at the wide eyed bloke staring back at me. God it was surreal, like it was happening to someone else and I wasn’t there. I got out and he started screaming at me. “Look what you’ve done to my wife” he bellowed. Said wife smiled meekly and told him to be quiet. After all, he had in fact pulled out in front of me when I had right of way. We moved the cars, the police came, we swapped details and off I went to work. Yeah I went to work. My boss took one look at me and sent me off to the hospital, where I was checked over and declared fine but with whiplash.

My little purple Corsa was declared a write off and sadly was no more. I got a Renault Megane instead. WORST bloody car EVER. A few cars later and I now have a Hyundai which is bloody fab.

What’s the best/worst car you’ve owned?

julie-x-2

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My Babies

For day 2 of Blogtober 17 with HexMum the prompt is ‘babies’. I don’t have any little babies anymore but the kids will always be my babies. Cor, can you imagine how disgusted the teen would be reading that? He’s upstairs pretending he hates me but I know the elbow nudges as he goes past means he loves me really. Either that or I’m just in his bloody way.

I have 3 ‘babies’ aged 19, 8 and 5. I had my 1st at 20, god I was young. Too young, certainly according to the disapproving looks from some nosey gits. I should have gone out in a school uniform just for the fun of it, that would give them something to tut about, wouldn’t it! I ended up as a single parent  and it was bloody hard working and bringing up a kid by yourself. I wouldn’t change it though. He might be a knobhead teenager at times but most of the time he’s quite sweet and has bagged himself the loveliest girlfriend. He loves free running, which most of the time makes me cringe but he does have a good talent for it and it keeps him out of trouble. Apart from the odd falling asleep on the loo drunk incident I can’t say he’s ever brought trouble to my door.

Baby number 2 came along when I was 31. Big gap, huh? As I mentioned in Day 1 I hated giving birth, it was one (actually 3) of the worst things I’ve ever done. I love my kids with all my heart but shiiiiiiiit I wish someone told you without lying how bad it is BEFORE you go and get yourself up the duff. All I got was “oh it’s like a big poo” or “it’s a bit sore but not so bad” LYING BASTARDS. This Little Man hated sleeping anywhere other than with me and has grown to be a very mild mannered, thoughtful and kind boy who loves maths (doesn’t get that from me!) and Pokemon cards.

My last baby at 34 turned out to be a girl which we were very happy with as we felt she completed our family. I had Hyperemesis with all my children but this was by far the worst, I spent endless weeks in bed being sick. She was a much wanted baby but god I hated that pregnancy. Bad pregnancy should = nice easy labour shouldn’t it? Well it bloody didn’t. I had an emergency section after 3 years in labour. She turned out to be a good sleeper though, she’s the only one of the three who even entertained the idea of a Moses basket. She loves gymnastics, mothering her ‘baba’s’ and nagging for a puppy.

So that’s my three babies, I’m all done having them now and look forward to Grandchildren at some point in the future (looooonnnngggg into the future I hope!) I wouldn’t change any of them for the world, well maybe I’d make my daughter a little less grumpy when she gets out of bed and my teen a little quieter at night but they all have their little quirks that makes them who they are.

julie-x-2 (1)

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10 Facts About Me

I’ve been nominated by Paul at Cheeky Dad Blog for a blogging challenge where I tell you lot 10 facts about myself and I’m also taking part in #Blogtober17 with HexMum so the two fitted together nicely. Going to be a challenge finding 10 interesting things believe me. I’m right boring.

1. I hate being late, it’s an obsession of mine. I’ve only been late for work once in 20 years and even then I did it spectacularly. I got stuck on the M4 for 3 hours and I’d forgotten my mobile so you can imagine my boss wondering whether I’d been abducted by aliens because I’m never late. They were about to call the cops in when I strolled – by strolled I mean run in hair all over the place and my face red as a tomato.

2. Although I call him ‘hubby’ I’m not married. We’ve been together 10 years and to be honest I’ve never been one of those girls who dreamed of a huge white dress and all that nonsense. I also can’t think of anything worse then standing up in the front of the room with all eyes on me. No ta.

3. There’s an 11 year gap between my 1st & 2nd children. I was so traumatised the 1st time I never wanted to do it again. I came round to the idea though (obviously) and all those people who said it wouldn’t be so bad the 2nd time round? Bloody liars. And when they said the 3rd would be a piece of cake? Even more lies. She was the worst birth of the lot. I am positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably NEVER having any more.

4. I have a secret love for the N64. When my son was around 7 or 8 I was a single Mum and a bit skint I was offered the console with games for £20. I bit her hand off and thought he’d love it. What I wasn’t expecting though was that I’d love it just as much. My boy and I lost hours playing Ocarina of Time, Majoras Mask, Banjo Kazooie, Mario and Goldeneye. I can’t say I like any of the consoles or games since really and these days you can’t lob the controller across the room in a rage cos they cost way too much and are flimsy as.

5. I have lots of scars, I was a right knob as a kid and ridiculously accident prone. The main one is next to my right eye from where my Dad was watching the A-Team in the dark , I tripped over his Adidas Samba’s and smashed my face on the coffee table. Cue my Mum calling my Dad all the dickheads known to man and my Uncle with the huge hair getting a phone call to get his Cortina over to our house quick as you like to take me to hospital. I screamed that much that my Dad told the Dr he wasn’t allowed to stitch it and to use butterfly stitches which then left a bad scar. What a baby eh?!

6. I hate being cold, it makes me a right grumpy moo. I’m the one who watches TV in the evening fully clothed with my dressing gown over the top, a blanket over my lap and thick socks. Sexy or what?

7. I have 3 tattoos. 1 is a seriously crap cover up that covered a seriously crap tattoo to start with. If you’re going to have 1 think it over and find a decent tattoo artist. The other 2 are good ones thank god. Someone once told me that getting a tattoo was worse than giving birth. She hadn’t had any children though. WTF?!!

8. When I was 18 I worked in a nightclub. Best job I’ve ever had. We had ahem ‘celebrity’ nights and I’ve sat in the staffroom with the guys from Steps. Bet you can’t beat that 😀

9. I love some cartoons more than the kids and have been known to intentionally watch them when they’re not around. If you’ve never seen Amazing World of Gumball, Adventure Time or Clarence you’re really missing out!

10. I’m allergic to nuts.Ever since my Mum made us Cherry Bakewells and I ended up like the Elephant Man I’ve had to avoid the sodding things. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve told people and they’ve sniggered and asked how I managed to have 3 kids. Eye roll.

julie-x-2

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Shall we naff off then?

Day 4 of #Blogtober17 with HexMum has the prompt ‘Date’ so I chose this post as it has the story of our first date.

My Mum and I went to a restaurant today. I use the term ‘went’ loosely because by ‘went’ i mean we attended said establishment however after we were shown to our table in a corner in the busiest, noisiest place I have ever set foot in and my Mum had to wait to sit down because the girl at the table 6 inches away from us decided to take her time removing her coat with elbows all over the shop like a dancing toddler, my Mum started doing her signature ‘getting her hair off face’. Not a good start. We picked up a menu and shouted “what do you fancy” like literally shouted. She looked at me. I looked at her. “This isn’t for us is it?” I said. “Not quite what I was expecting no” she said. “Shall we naff off then?” I said. The relief literally jumped out of her and did a jig. Only we had to get out of there.

Now a few years ago I would have run out, phone clamped to my ear shouting “what do you mean she’s vomiting so much it’s like a Nanny Plum jelly flood? I’ll be right there” grimace at the dude on the door and run.

Not this time however. I am finally one of them there adults. I didn’t rush. I didn’t lie. I looked him straight in the eye and said “mate it’s too busy in here and the noise is doing my head in.” And left. He just looked on flabberghasted. Did I feel bad? Nope. It wasn’t like we were the only people in a bar full of tumbleweed, they were busy. Did I feel all smug that I’d done it rather than being all British and smiling and telling them how great it was despite dying slightly inside? Too bloody right. This of course wasn’t their fault. They want the place to be busy that’s the whole point, this was my personal opinion.

tableware-glasses-rose-crockery-cutlery

It reminds me of the time back when I met my partner. He painted my house, a mutual friend of ours that worked with him kept telling me how “his butty was single” (if you’re not Welsh I’m NOT talking about his sandwich here) and how I should go out with him. I sniggered but eventually handed over my number. Which I found out years later he’d promptly chucked in the bin thinking his mate was joking.

We did eventually go on a date though to a local pub. It was lovely. For our 2nd date I got to choose where we went and I picked a local hotel that had a nice restaurant. I got dressed up and we went. Only the look on his face said it all as the guy at the door looked him up and down took my coat.

“This is a bit f**king fancy isn’t it?” he said as he eyed up the cutlery set up on the table. The tinkly piano music in the background. My brain started screaming ‘Oh God, I HAVE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE’.

‘How can I get out of this?’I started panicking. He hates it. It’s too posh. The b**tard is common as muck. Egg on his chips kind of guy. What the hell was I thinking?

“Right lets go” spills out of my mouth without meaning to. He nods. We get up. Half walk, half run to the door. I grab my coat. We shout “sorry gotta go” over our shoulders and leg it to the car.

Then drove to a Harvester instead. And we laughed and laughed. That’s how we knew we were meant to be.

julie-x-2

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