Bitch on the Blog

May 29, 2010

To beer or not to beer

Filed under: Despair,Happiness — bitchontheblog @ 12:42
Tags: ,

With Looney’s gracious support, and in spite of Jean’s healthy scepticism, we can now safely assume that ‘Bier’ – by virtue of it being at end of a request to a waiter at your average Oktoberfest – is indeed a verb.

The cat – opportunist swines that cats are – is back after a week’s absence. However, the apple of my eye I have not heard from since he called me at 1700 hours BST yesterday which makes it about 22 hours. He and his friends were heading off into the New Forest to drown their sorrows as to celebrate their last official day at sixth form college. Hope against hope I HOPE that they won’t have drowned in a puddle of beer. Am already planning funeral. I tentatively suggested that instead of finding himself and his head resting on an ant heap this morning he might like to take his tent to overnight. This is where it becomes complicated for a mother’s weary head and heart: “No, Mama, no point taking the tent. It’ll just get ruined in the mayhem.” As assurances to his physical well-being go I feel like a lemming ready to jump.

U

Update a few minutes after I send above, and before you try to think of how to word your condolences: Apple of my eye just phoned. He staid at a friend’s parents’ mansion at edge of New Forest and enjoyed –  I quote – “a luxurious guest bed room”.  And here I am slumming it and at least two of my hairs gone grey in the last few hours. U

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8 Comments »

  1. Mm! Food for thought. Beer being Liquid bread…

    If your “best beloved” has rested his head on a wood ants’ nest his scalp will certainly have received a stimulating lotion.

    Remember that old adage: No news is good news. Magpie Mini Minor has gone off on a motor cycle jaunt,via Eurostar, to Denmark and Sweden. We received a text message saying “Have got lost three times and feel like turning back for home. Would probably get lost though.”

    I love it when I realise just how independent they are!

    However, I’m not a mother and that does make a difference.

    Rest assured that you are not a lemming. As far as I recall no lemming ever got ready to jump,

    Comment by magpie11 — May 29, 2010 @ 13:07 | Reply

    • Father of MMM (Magpie Mini Minor), your daughter has a sweet sense of humoUr.

      Presumably MMM will have enjoyed the ‘no limit on speed’ of German motorways on her way to Denmark. I remember, donkey’s years ago, surreptitiously creeping (at speed) through Belgium and France (French police is the one force you do not wish to encounter; take it from the horse’s mouth). However, now anarchy reigns on Europe’s motorways (and that includes England). Maybe I started a trend: Speed limits are no longer observed – not even by the natives. The true joy of hitting the German border is that you know that when you put the metal on the pedal you do so within the boundaries of the law.

      Sunday greetings,
      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 30, 2010 @ 06:13 | Reply

      • She’s a he!

        Comment by magpie11 — May 30, 2010 @ 10:16 | Reply

        • And is now in Sweden… somewhere!

          Glad the Apple called…do not pull out those grey hairs because seven more will grow in place of each one!

          Comment by magpie11 — May 30, 2010 @ 10:19 | Reply

        • Even better! Scratching my head what on earth made me think of him as her: Probably the touching lack of map reading skills. I shudder to think where both your and my son would end up if they travelled together. Probably in Finland – or Timbuktu. Still, like migrating birds they will always find their way HOME.

          Hope springs maternal,
          U

          Comment by bitchontheblog — May 30, 2010 @ 10:55 | Reply

  2. You should not spend any more time worrying about the kids than they spend worrying about you!

    Comment by Looney — May 29, 2010 @ 22:49 | Reply

    • Wise words, Looney; however, not applicable in my case. I can’t so much as mention a twinge and my son will urge me to make a doctor’s appointment(a request which he knows falls on deaf ears since I avoid doctors like the plague).

      Last year he went on his first open air music festival. Must have been about three days. He called me periodically to let me know that he had not yet sunk knee deep into the habitual morast that constitutes these places (I remember it well) and to confirm that the toilets were disgusting. As not to worry HIM I did not let on that, about an hour after he’d left, I managed to deconstruct myself by falling on tarmac like a puppet on loose strings. When on his return he found me with three out of four limbs in bandages and plaster casts he first inquired whether I’d been hit by a bus and then said: “Mama, look at you. I can’t leave you out of my sight for five minutes.” Since it’s NOT an 18 year old’s job to worry about his mother I have been trying to avoid tripping up ever since. So far, so good.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — May 30, 2010 @ 06:44 | Reply

  3. Ursula, it is good to hear your son cares about his mom. My comment was more intended as a tease since I figure telling a mom to relax regarding her son is as productive as telling the wind not to blow!

    Comment by Looney — May 30, 2010 @ 13:23 | Reply


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