FIRE

Posted on by phylliscreative

Fire arrives in many forms. Good and bad. It’s a constant source of heat when needed even if it can’t be seen. We depend on it for our home, work and leisure pursuits. Fire is a colourful ,crazy  and cruel if used in a demonic and devious way. Oh! There you go! What’s worse than a devilish hell  and all consuming fire waiting for us maybe when we shrug off this mortal coil.

I’m sure my Mum, who passed away a few years go went to the Good Place, where fire is not seen but warmth certainly felt. O.K I’m getting carried away by religious nonsense. What I’m trying to say is that fire is not always visible. I have fire in my heart for Elvis but it can’t be seen. So lets get back to Mum. She had dementia and wasn’t herself at the end. She had been living with my brother and sister-in-law in Dublin and that’s where she passed away. Mum’s remains arrived in Andersonstown before my brother and I got there. Courtesy of the undertakers! Mum didn’t make her own way up. It was a very cold February night and we were glad of the heat when we entered the house. Everything had been prepared.  The central heating was turned up to ensure visitors were warm and toasty when they came to pay their respects. And there were a fair amount of visitors. And the heat was kept on. Mum would have had a fit at the expense. As the night drew on everyone settled down. Now in some religions there is a practice of not allowing the remains to be left alone. Not sure of the meaning. Was it because the person might rise up and escape before the Devil with his fires of Hell came and claimed the body. If they arrived first you were doomed. Or was it just a nice gesture to keep your loved one company and prevent this catastrophe.

My brother Joseph and I decided we would keep the vigil, me on the sofa, Joseph on a bedside chair. Now remember the heat was still on. Getting as warm as a fiery furnace in the house. I swear my brother had only just put his head on the pillow when all Hell broke loose. (Fire again!) The most Godawful noises started to emanate from my bro. I really thought the Devil had got in somehow and my Mum was going to be dragged to the flames of the Damned. Now I blame the fiery heat (Fire again!) But according to Angela, his wife, the next day, that was usual for Joseph. How did the poor girl stick it! I pushed him, shoved him, shouted at him, to no avail.

I stayed as long as I could. If I had stayed any longer there would have been two bodies in the living room. I lifted my bed and left. Of course when he woke up the next morning he found himself alone and the heat was still going.

Now I know you’re all thinking what has this got to do with fire. Let me explain. Well, isn’t central heating a type of fire, caused by a spark and a flame igniting  the furnace in the boiler.

So to the best part of the story. My niece Nicole, who had recently given birth to a beautiful baby boy, on my birthday actually, 3rd Feb. She travelled all the way up from Cork with the new baby, just a few days old, her husband and older son, M.J, who would have been about nine years old, to attend her Nanny’s funeral. Courageous and kind lady. We were all assembled in Mum’s bedroom, Nicole feeding the beautiful new addition, Derek and I lolling on the bed. Young M.J lying down the side of the bed playing away happily.

Suddenly Nicole jumps:

“ Phyllis, is the heating still on. It’s really hot in here.”

“Yes. Just to keep visitors warm.” I replied.

“Hmm! Do you think we should turn it down for a while?”

I looked a bit puzzled by this request until Derek, the hubby states:

“It’s just that we heard that if it’s too warm in a room where a body is situated it could explode.”

“ You think Mum’s going to explode?” I was laughing.

Well, I’ve never seen a child’s wee head pop up so fast in my life.

“What?” M.J exclaimed , looking shocked.

We’d forgotten about young ears picking up everything, no matter how engrossed they are in their play.

We tried reassuring him that all was well, afraid that it might give him nightmares in the future. It wasn’t going to happen, that I was on my way down to lower the heating.

But, you know, a little part of me actually thought the child was a little disappointed. His Nanny exploding! Boy! Wouldn’t that be something to tell his school mates. It would be better than some of the games they play on their electronic gadgets.

Now, I’m not being disrespectful to my Mum because I know she’d be having a good life at this scenario.

This is were I nearly burst into flames. The priest arrived the next day to say prayers and give a blessing.  My body nearly exploded and landed in ashes on the floor. I’m not religious by any means! Well, I am a  Presleyite!  My church Graceland!

I know this is not fire as we know it but it was too good a story about this young child’s reaction.

CHEERS!

Posted on by phylliscreative

I had been with the walking group for just a few weeks when a birthday was  announced. Christine’s birthday. Party to be held in Top of the Town bar, Antrim with drag artist as entertainment. Now, I just happen to love drag artists. I met up with a couple of them in Turkey. Loved the show so much I went back twice although at one point they asked to see my dentures and my age which I turned round to 37. The remark was “Well, you’d better get another plastic surgeon!” No offence taken. I got a nice cheek kiss from one on the second visit with a “Welcome back Love thrown in. Great fun but I was a little bit wary of not being included in the walking  group I mean I was a newcomer. I should have had no worries about that. 

“Of course!” They all said, “ the more the merrier!” 

So the birthday night arrived and we all met up in the bar. A goodly crowd of us. Laughing and joking and all waiting the arrival of Big Titties Bingo! Yes! That was her name! 

Big Titties was due in about a half hour so we patiently waited imbibing cocktails and wine. Not impatient at all. The craic was ninety and the drinks superb. Suddenly without warning there she was. What a sight! Legs up to her armpits, long blond hair down her back, not stuck on her back. Just flowing freely like a golden shower. Make up to perfection, although the five o’ clock shadow was a little bit visible. She was nearly dressed in a flowing almost see through skirt to the hip and a deeply plunging satiny blouse almost see through also I was a little jealous. Not very well endowed in that respect. If I wore a plunging neckline I’d be arrested for attempting to impersonate a woman. She was breathtaking. Swanned around the tables, insulting and praising punters as she went. All good fun!  

I didn’t even know she was anywhere near me until I heard the words: 

“Just let me get past this old woman.” 

Looking around, not realising it was me she was referring to. But it was. I should have known then that was only the beginning. She had found a juicy victim in the crowd and that victim was me. She sidled between myself and Joe, another walker, Susan his wife next to him. 

“Is that your wife?! 

“Yes.” From Joe. 

“By choice.” 

No one took offence. Everyone knew what was on offer that night or any night that was drag and if you were easily offended just don’t attend. After a few more remarks to Joe and his Susan, she leaned closer to him whilst looking at me and whispered: 

“Do you think we should check she’s still breathing.” 

 This  remark of course aimed at me. She then spotted one of our crowd wearing a flowery blouse and attention was diverted on to poor Beth Not for long though! 

“Phyllis,” right behind me again she was. 

“What?” 

“How do you know Christine?” 

“We both belong to an Antrim walking group.” 

“Oh! Hmm! Walking Group! Do you walk unaided?” 

“No! “ I replied. “ I have a Zimmer frame.” What I should have added was  also a nurse and doctor on standby. 

That maybe had stumped her a bit because I was left alone again. For a while. My friends had begun to sympathise with me but I assured them I was taking it all in good fun. 

After another few rounds of the crowd Big Titties announced she was going on a break and whilst on that break she was going to have sex with Phyllis. All I could do was roll my eyes and laugh. No offence taken at all, just good, if not clean fun all round. 

Back she came after the break, slithering and sliding among the tables like a gazelle. I have great admiration for drag artistes. They are always so careful with their appearance, outshining many a female and looking so fantastic. The two I mentioned in Turkey did a surprising closing number. I’d never seen it done before. They played a song entitled “THIS IS ME” and divested themselves of their female attire. Off came the padded bras, the sequinned gowns, the heels and wigs. Make up thoroughly removed. They stood straight and proud in their male attire, superb entertainers that they were. An unexpected and wonderful end to the show. 

Back to Big Titties who maybe had decided I’d had enough. But No! Wishful thinking on my part. She’d spied someone, who was actually a waitress in Top of the Town, with the same haircut and hair colour as me. 

“Hey, Phyllis,”  

This by the way was shouted half way across the room. 

“Here’s a younger version of you.” 

Some of the comments directed at me or to other poor victims are not repeatable here but again real good craic. 

So CHEERS to the top of the town for a wonderful, joke filled evening and for the delicious cocktails. I had a frozen marguerita and a pina colada. YUM!  

And CHEERS to Big Titties Bingo for the laughter , not all directed at me but most of it, and the insults. Hope to see you again soon. You were class. Until we meet again soon. 

Oh, I suppose you’re wondering about the Bingo bit. Well, we were all given some pages with rows of numbers on them. Yes. Bingo. Whoever won could pick a drink of their choice. I wasn’t lucky there either!! 

Next time I’ll wear my armoured corset! Ping! Ping! All comments flying off and into the ether. 

WEE BUNS

Posted on by phylliscreative

WEE BUNS!

It was a good idea at the time! Or so we thought. My friend and I. Wee Buns! How hard could it be? It’s funny how a few glasses of wine can make your specs rose tinted or how a couple of hot male bodies with faces to match could persuade two sex mad women to attempt to scuba dive in Turkey. It beggars belief!

There we were lounging around the pool when the hunks appeared, trying to coax all and sundry to participate. Of course we said YES! Mary could swim. I couldn’t. Yet I was the one sent into the water to undergo a demonstration. Didn’t seem to matter to our two boyos that I couldn’t float, never mind swim. On went the goggles and the air piece and down I went. Into the depths of the pool, lead along by a gorgeous man. I don’t know if at this point Mary was worried or laughing. Probably the latter. Anyway stupidly reassured we signed our lives away. We practically nearly did. Well, I did.

Wee Buns! Two real handsome guys would protect us in their strong arms. How wrong could we be? Very wrong.

The day of the dip arrived and off we set, imagining a drink with our protectors afterwards. We may even pretend to drown to get their attention. No pretending was necessary! Of course when we reached our appointed meeting place no sign was there of our two hunks. From what I can remember one elderly gentleman and a couple of younger ones. We had been duped but like the insane, inebriated people that we were we decided to go ahead. Oh Crap! After being handed two rubber thingies with four appendages, which turned out to be for our hands and legs to go in, we attempted to don them. Oh My Lord! Which were the arms and which were the legs. We were stumped. I watched Mary trying to put hers on and truthfully I peed myself laughing. We had to be practically dressed in these contraptions, like babies. Goggles and container of air were attached to us after which we were instructed to sit backwards on the edge of the boat and fall into the sea. Mary went first and started swimming towards a group of people a distance away. Yes! Group! Not just us on this adventure Where were all the instructors? I could only see two. Nothing seemed to be putting the fear of God in us. It should have.

My turn next. Now remembering that I can’t swim, I hit the water with a splash and proceeded to drown. Kept flapping my feet and kicking to prevent this. I could see everyone waiting for me some distance away. How the hell was I supposed to get to them. Perhaps that was my first swimming lesson. I splashed and paddled, splashed and paddled until I eventually got where I was supposed to be going. Now anyone in their right mind would have noticed an inexperienced swimmer and for safety’s sake would have prevented me from going any further. But No! We proceeded to get our instructions from the two guys, not the hunks.

“Don’t swim underwater using breaststroke.”  (Help! I can’t swim at all.) “Or this can result In the air piece being pushed out of your mouth.”  Cripes! Oh Mammy!

Down we went. I was going to die! I have to admit it was wonderful seeing all the wee fishes and stuff. But suddenly it wasn’t wonderful at all. Some idiot had done exactly what he had been told not to do. Breaststroke! My air piece flew out of my mouth and I couldn’t breathe. I felt as if a huge weight was on me. So so scared. They say your whole life passes in front of you if you think you’re at death’s door. I only got as far as uttering my first cry when the instructor appeared as if by magic, lifted me up and shoved me towards the surface. Quivering and shaking like a jellied eel, I actually heard myself answering the guy’s question with a YES! Really! Am I that nuts.

The question: “Would you like to go back down?”

I put it down to shock or too many cocktails over the last few days. I nearly died and I’m going back. No! Doesn’t make sense. Down I went again and I was attached to a large rock like a limpet.

“Don’t move.” He said.

That was all very well but I don’t think my legs were listening. Up they floated while the rest of me remained .  clinging to the rock. I could see all the wee fishies swimming past and I think my friend Mary passed me at one point. Show Off!

At last the ordeal was over and we all swum back on board. Well, I don’t know how I got back, probably with a little help. All Mary and I wanted was a cold beer. Just one beer left in the cooler. We shared it.

We were feeling quite cocky really. What a story for back home. It would have gained momentum before we got there. We scuba dove. Toasting ourselves with beer, divested of all that rubber, we lay back complacent with a job well done. Not for long though! As we were feeling superior, one of the sailor guys approached us with a clipboard in his hand.

“Right! Who’s for round two. Another dip down under.”

We looked at each other in horror.

“What? We’ done it already, hadn’t we? What’s all this about? It seems two scuba dives were permitted on this trip. Looking at each other then turning to the clipboard guy, we shook our heads.

“No! No!”

“Ah well,” was his reply and as he was walking away I heard him mutter:

“Chick, Chick, chick, chick Chicken!”

Wee Buns?? No!!! Not ever again.

You know when I went back to work I was telling a work mate what had happened. She was so angry, being an expert scuba diver herself.

“No way should they have let you do that! Against all health and safety rules. Total disgrace! Also there should have been a few more instructors for that amount of people. You’re a lucky girl.”