Blog 54 e...Skegness...

Blog 54 e...Skegness...

I really have to finish the tale of Skegness, in case one of you reading has a hubby with the same hobby; you now know you are not alone!

 The first night in the caravan was humid, sticky and so smelly: but I daren’t let the boys sleep with their windows open for fear of them being grabbed by an enormous walking cat fish…the caravan shook with every movement including turning over in the beds, every burp and fart echoed round the caravan so no sex then, impossible:as the night wore on I could hear the boys giggling at 'Hubby's' snoring whilst I tried to read the latest smutty novel propped up against the paper thin wall; something was roosting on the caravan roof, I hoped it was the ducks but worried that it was rats as the scratching sounds lasted most of the night. Once the boys were asleep and all the lights were out I lay in the dark with my heart pounding in my ears as I heard movements outside; had we locked the caravan doors? Then I could even hear noises from the caravan next door and the worry was I was sure it was occupied by 4 men…perhaps they had found 4 loose women walking aimlessly on the moon-lit roads looking for the Air Force men who flew those magnificent jets…to make matters worse 'Bridezilla' had rung to say that our conservatory back home was full of ants! Millions of them and what should she do? Aw for goodness sake I’m in Skegness and the millions of ants are going to crawl all over my house. My orders were clear…get the red address book from the left hand side of the top drawer in my bedside table, look up the phone number of my friend who has just had the ants cleared from her house, get the phone number from her for that lady, ring the Ant Lady and ask for help. If you need any money use £50 from the bottom drawer and go in that drawer without looking at anything you may see that doesn’t resemble a roll of notes…this is the emergency money…the Ant Lady came, she saw, she sprayed, she took the £50 and she left…'Bridezilla' locked the conservatory door and when I returned a week later a pile of ants, she was right there had been millions, was heaped near the radiator pipe where a minute hole had been their way in…a trail of white powder across the carpet in all different directions looked more like a pattern than dying ants making a last ditch attempt to escape…plus I was £50 worse off for the use of powder that I already had in the shed but 'Bridezilla' won’t go in there because there are BIG spiders…plus she ‘borrowed’ some money for a few take-aways, washing powder and to replace the toilet rolls I had taken to Skegness, which by the way come to think of it she still owes me. I hate those creepy crawly Ants! 

To keep me happy we took a day off fishing…not sure if it was because the males in the family had had a day of fishing with no catch and I had! You see I provided them with brews and biscuits constantly as well as burnt bacon butties and soggy poached eggs. At one point I decided to take my coffee out to the edge of the lake, only 20 paces, and sit in the sunshade with them, bonding you could call it. Well 'Cutie- pie' was desperate for the loo and hubby doesn’t allow any rod to be left un-manned for too long whilst he is holding his own rod [I’m sure you’d be pleased to know I’ve exhausted all the rod jokes and will not be repeating them for cheap laughter…although…] So I gallantly stepped in so that 'Cutie-pie' could go to the loo, raid the biscuit tin, watch a bit of children’s TV through the spotty reception and possibly eat the rest of the jaffa cakes! Picture this…I am standing with a coffee in one hand, 'Cutie-pie’s' rod in the other and I am watching a family of ducks splashing about thinking how nice it would be to have a dip myself…when a stirring in the water shakes me and I haul the rod out of the water, a rather large fish slapping about and me saying something stupid like…OOOhhh Errr OOhhh Errr…as the fish flies through the air; 'Hubby' was not impressed: was this because I had just single handedly caught the biggest fish of the holiday or was it because the line was now tangled a few feet away in the bushes and he had to abandon his fishing to stop the poor fish from becoming distressed…not to mention the tut tuts of the other fishing folk who all know how to land a whopper in a landing net!

So a full day off to go into Skegness…brilliant…it’s like Blackpool on a hot day in the 1950’s…I loved it!! Candy floss, hot potatoes, ice cream wafers, amusements, horse and carriages, helta-skelter, music in the air, ding-ding of mini roundabouts, fish and chips, Bingo, bargain baskets, people walking slowly up and down the promenade smiling and nodding as you pass each other...the sea was clean enough to swim in or just take your shoes off and paddle through, deck chairs lined along the wall, sand castles with flags in, flip-flops, inflated beach balls, buckets and spades, Kiss-Me-Quick cowboy styled hats, the smell of fresh doughnuts wafting through the air, a real live brass band playing on a band stand, pots of tea and hot buttered scones with cream and jam, ping pong tables, bumper cars, carousels, hooka-duck and best of all…crazy golf!! The boys are ace at crazy golf and ever since they could walk we have had to visit a crazy golf somewhere at least once a year. Ah, you know what? Memories are made of times like this…

Blog 54 f coming soon...next week same place...
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