Peeves

Let's start with the most obvious...

My friend, DT hates the phrase "pet peeve". She never really explained why, she just does. You could say her pet peeve is pet peeve!

Hubby is disgusted when people say disirregardless. He mumbles, "There is no such word as disirregardless." It may not be in any dictionary but that doesn't keep it from being used every single day. You should see him cringe when newscasters say it.

My mom couldn't stand it when dad would say (after almost spilling his glass of beer or wine), "I'd rather see a church burn down." Frankly, I never gave it much thought. I figured it was just his way of rebelling since he's a PK (Preacher's Kid). But it bothered her a lot.

"It's good enough for government work," tees off my FIL, a retired Forest Service employee. He's so thorough, he would never do anything slap-dash so it's quite understandable why it would aggravate him.

I hate it when people use the the word "good" when they should use "well", as in "You did good." Wrong, wrong, wrong, people, it's "You did well." Good is an adjective. Adjectives describes nouns. "He's a good child." Well is an adverb. Adverbs modify a verb. Did (past tense of "to do") is a verb. Dosen't matter, no one cares. Except me. Watching TV news in our home can be quite interesting. Either hubby is yelling, "disirregardless is not a word!" or I'm reprimanding, "did well, not good, you idiot."

We've all got 'em, these irksome words or phrases or actions that just get our goat. I've no idea what got me going off on this tangent but, disirregardless (hehehehe) I did.

Two more...

...meeces bit the dust. No more squirrels yet. T from Critter Control suggested we keep this up a bit longer to make sure there are no more squirrels in the attic before we seal their attic access.

"Could the one we caught have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time?" (yeah, I was wishful thinking.)

"Nope. M (his co-hort from CC) saw squirrel sign (I don't know nor do I want to know what that is) in your attic."

"Can we mouse-proof the house?" I ask.

"It's very difficult to do. They can get in through a 1/2" gap. And if a gap isn't large enough, they will chew their way through."

Sheesh.

I need a wildlife bouncer. Let's see, what animal would be the equivalent of a beefy, burn-you-with-a-glance bouncer?

Hey, little school girl

When I was 11 and my brother was 9, our family moved to England for a year. There were so many things to get used to. They didn't have supermarkets. You went to the butcher for meat, the baker for bread, the dry grocer for canned goods and so on. We rode double-decker buses (front seat of the top deck was a way cool ride) and took the train to get around. Steering wheels were on the passenger side of cars but heck, cars drove on the wrong side of the street. They said crisps for potato chips and chips for French fries. They'd ask to borrow your rubber when they wanted your eraser (ask me about the funny looks and giggles I got when I repeated that when I returned to the states!).

The school system was set up differently, too. The age-old mentality of aristocracy vs common folk was alive and well and very much in evidence in the school system. The public schools were called secondary. They were also co-ed. Private schools, many of them boarding schools, were same sex only. They were deemed as providing a higher grade (oops, pun, sorry) of education. They were certainly for those on the college bound track. Public schools prepared their students for trades, not universities.

My folks opted to send my brother and me to private schools, which ended up meaning boarding school for us. Private schools only allowed so many slots for day boarders - home each day. Next on the rung were weekly boarders - home every weekend - followed by plain ol' boarders - home at semester breaks only. That's weeks and weeks, people; pretty tough on young kids from the states. The schools were set up this way to bring in the necessary funds (day boarders didn't bring in as much money as full-on boarders).

I was fortunate that the school we chose for me had a slot for a weekly boarder. My dad picked me up Friday evening and ferried me back on Sunday, a 30-45 minute drive each way. My brother wasn't so fortunate. Even though his school was only 3 miles from home, he couldn't come home except at semester breaks. It was so tough on him.

I had more fortune come my way, too. I was eligible for the 11-plus test, which I took shortly after I started boarding school. Think of it like an SAT test for younger students. Passing it made me eligible for an even higher rung in the school system. After only 1 semester at boarding school, I moved on as a day boarder at Windsor High School (high school started in 1st Form, our 6th grade). I took a public bus from a corner near my home to a bus stop in Ascot (home of the famous Ascot races) where I caught a double-decker bus (also a public bus) to a bus stop near school. The bus conductor called me "luv" and "ducky".

I wore uniforms at both schools. I still have my uniform from WHS - a tartan plaid pleated kilt and a Kelly green blazer with the school emblem on the pocket. They've survived quite well although the kilt has a few tiny moth holes in it.

I did my homework in composition books. We turned these in and they were graded on knowledge and neatness. We were not allowed to use pencils. We had to use fountain pens. Crossing out mistakes was not allowed so I learned the secret of "white-out" - bleach water. It took the ink out but I had to be careful - too much of it would eat through the page. The page had to dry before you could write again.

Recently, curiousity and bouts of reminiscence spurred me in an internet hunt for my brother's and my schools. I haven't found my high school or my brother's school but I did find a link to my boarding school, Hampden House. It is no longer a school. An insurance company bought it and returned it to its full glory. It was beautiful then but it is even more so now. It gets rented out for weddings now. Here are two links so you can take a walk down my memory lane.

http://www.hampden.co.uk/house.html
This one has the history of the building. Imagine learning math in a castle-like environment and walking up steps that Queen Elizabeth I graced (or so the legend went).

http://www.hampdenweddings.com/
Click on virtual tour of The Great Hall Gallery. See the long wall opposite the wall with the window? See the door at the end of that long wall (left side) above the portrait of 3 people? That door led to my dormitory, which I shared with 11 other girls. It was rumored to be haunted and, being gullible 11 year olds, we dutifully believed the stories. My best friend, DC, and I moved our beds close enough together so we could reach out and hold hands when we got scared. We would get punished if we were caught doing this but we were more scared of the ghost than of Matron (although not by much).

Curious about my blog title? It's inspired by a Jonny Lang song (looove Jonny Lang) even if blues is not appropriate theme music for this blog. Oh, well, what the heck...