Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Jem shopping bags are transgender you dinosaur.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Housewifes once took pride in what they carried their shopping home in. Non of this plastic stuff back in the day. It was wicker, string or just the apron that did the job.

Mind you her status was decided by either that string bag, woven basket and apron. Apron speaks for itself no matter if it did have pockets so shopping was shite with sugar on it and not much else. If it was a string bag the neighbours could see what you had bought and that would always be good for a bit of gossip. "I see yer giving your Fred a bit of spam tonight" or "a nice bit of liver and onions is it!".

Those that had a basket could either leave it open to the elements for all to see or if you valued your standing in the street you could have a nice little water proof cover which showed real class and stopped all gossip in it's tracks much to the chagrin of nosy neighbours... though efforts were still made. "Been shopping then"..."bought anything nice"...and what are you treating your Alf to today"

God help you if you had been down the chippy though as then the whole town knew what you were having as neither apron, string bag nor wicker basket could hide that aroma. Fish and chips sure put you all on equel footing...providing you could afford them that is.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

A lovely summary of the old shopping bags and their handlers Solo, all true and well recalled.

I never wore an apron so I cannot make any comment on that, perhaps Spitty could oblige, he’s an up to date young (ish) modern husband.
Let the rib wear the bib and let the men bring home the bacon was the thinking back in the 60’s, and I was part of that whether I liked it or not.
To my mind then there’s something awkward about a man who wears a bib, bibs just don’t suit men, one gaffer I worked for tried his best to make me wear the jewellers apron, he wanted to stick me in his front window at the Mall, working at a bench like a performing monkey, and all for an extra 2 quid a week!, I was having none of it, so I told him to stick his apron where the monkey stuck his nuts and we parted company. I used to wear a short white linen coat when working, but good luck to those who like wearing aprons, whatever floats yer boat and all that.
Then you have all those chaps with the aprons and secret handshakes having all kinds of rituals up at the old lodge, what’s that all about one wonders, masons how are yeh, the only thing they’re interested in building is fortunes for themselves.

I’ve been busy cleaning up the attic lately
I came across an original photo of Bob Dylan taken in his junior schooldays, his real name is Robert Allen Zimmerman, should I have it framed?

My old mate Sammy got an awful slagging when he first came into the pub with his new National Health Zimmer frame. Young Tony the barman looked at him and said “Be Jaysus Sammy you must be in a bad way when you need scaffolding to hold you up. you look like a condemned house”
No mercy for the inflicted has that Tony fella, he lacks the sympathy and tact that the old barmen had in abundance.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Good for you sticking to your guns over that window Jem...too much like Amsterdams Canal Strasse for my liking. A mans got to do what a mans got to do...refusing I mean.

Odd how some things have turned out though isn't it.. aprons/ bibs was a thing most men man would not be seen dead in although the macho leather aprons was acceptable for the smithy trade and even coal men would only wear a hessian coal sack to protect his clothes. Now men are happy to wear aprons..and women are happier still if they do the cooking as well

What I do find really odd is, I remember my father looking absolutely mortified when my Mum once asked him to hold her handbag. For him to be asked to do such a thing was an affront to his masculinity and a betrayal by her for having asked it of him. I forget the reason why she did that but you could tell that it would have been the most demeaning thing for him to do so I quickly took it instead so Mum could do what ever she had to...and yet now men carry hand bags...cleverly disguised as 'Man Bags' of course. As Robert Allen Zimmerman once sang "The times they are a changing"...and how right he was.

LOL....Dear Lord the very thought of me having to make a dash for a bus using a bit of scaffolding like the old chappie in the clip brings me out in a cold sweat. With my wobbly wheel affliction I'd need more than the eye of a tiger as I'd be sure to end up under the bus instead of inside it...oh the not so joys of aging. Funny how things come back to haunt you isn't it

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Freedom of movement should be everything to a Human Being, there is a guy called Don, he has one of those shopping trollies with four wheels which he pushes up front. Until about a year ago he looked after his wife who had health issues that made her house bound, and a Daughter with (the term I dislike) learning difficulties, but was determined to maintain their independence. He had an allotment three quarters of a mile away from his house and, everyday he made the journey there taking two hours each way to make the journey, his wife died, and, inevitably he has ended up in a Care Home, but, he is the only resident allowed free passage, to come and go as he chooses, respect to the man I say.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Freedom of movement should be everything to a Human Being


In the context of within ones own body of course, we don't want this construed in any political way.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Yes indeed freedom to move all parts of the human body is a gift we seldom appreciate until it’s gone through age, accident, or taken from us as a punishment such as solitary confinement in prison, even confined to prison on it’s own is a big loss of movement, not forgetting that old punishment from the parents “Go to your room now!” I had a touch of gout a few years ago and it was agony to try to walk, lasted nearly a week and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
Who can forget that scene from the film “Misery” with Cathy Bates standing over a helpless James Caan about to banjax his two feet with a sledge hammer.

I had the house all to myself this evening, the wife’s gone to a neighbours bar-bar-que, sooner her than me it’s lashing rain outside, methinks they’ll have to move into the house to have it, pity as the new couple who moved in had invited in all the near neighbours and everything was all arranged, except the weather of course.
I’ll slip out to the local now before she gets back then she won’t know what time I went out at.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

Sunday thoughts about old phone boxes

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)

What a lovely little video Solo, thanks for that, I got a good laugh at the two women caught in the phone box.

If Alexander Bell had had his way we would be all saying “Ahoy-hoy” when answering the phone, it was Edison who got his users to say “Hello”
I can imagine meself phoning Phyllis from the pub. "Ahoy-hoy, is that you me darlin'?, well I'll be home a bit late for me dinner, is that OK?"
"No Popeye, get your arse back here now"

“The Oxford English Dictionary says the first published use of "hello" goes back only to 1827. And it wasn't mainly a greeting back then. Ammon says people in the 1830's said hello to attract attention ("Hello, what do you think you're doing?"), or to express surprise ("Hello, what have we here?"). Hello didn't become "hi" until the telephone arrived.
The dictionary says it was Thomas Edison who put hello into common usage. He urged the people who used his phone to say "hello" when answering. His rival, Alexander Graham Bell, thought the better word was "ahoy-hoy”
"Ahoy," it turns out, had been around longer — at least 100 years longer — than hello. It too was a greeting, albeit a nautical one, derived from the Dutch "hoi," meaning "hello." Bell felt so strongly about "ahoy" he used it for the rest of his life.
And so, by the way, does the entirely fictional "Monty" Burns, evil owner of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant on The Simpsons. If you watch the program, you may have noticed that Mr. Burns regularly answers his phone "Ahoy-hoy," a coinage the Urban Dictionary says is properly used "to greet or get the attention of small sloop-rigged coasting ship." Mr. Burns, apparently, wasn't told”
(Source-Robert Krulwich on Science)

Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)