Technolody and the Fat White Blob
Without Prejudice
All this technology is frightening to the older generations, it's not the way Baby Boomers were taught to communicate. We "hung out", we spoke on the phone. I twice cut the cord on the phone when A, my youngest daughter was constantly on it at 13 onwards. I couldn't understand that she had just left the school grounds and she was back on the phone to her friends as soon as she arrived home. She loved to talk, still does.
I remember the Testra man was puzzled at the "fault" on the cord of the phone, looked like it had been cut with scissors. I just said not a word as I didn't want to get charged the $200 per 15 minutes, Telstra used to charge. When I was a stay at home Mum, kids played in the court, kids walked to school and it was a fair distance. Our house was always full of others kids as well as our own and it was bedlam at times.
But it was also full of fun and chatter and music clips and music on the radio and was complete chaos and I like a bewildered female Professor would smile indulgently and keep stirring the pot on the stove of fudge, or stew, or Fried rice, or Beef Stroganoff and enjoy serving it to the brood.
My two oldest girls worked at McDonalds, part time and brought home all the left overs. One time the oldest one had a black liner bag full of McDonalds, she then proceeded to feed Grunt, that fat white blob of a Bull Terrier, 14 apple pies. She said he was heaving a little by the time he got to the 15th, then vomited the lot up and re ate it all.
The dog was a guts and as docile as a lamb. Stupid with it, but very appealing and comical. He would rest his big white snout aginst the sliding door and bark all day the be let in. We knew if we did he would just rush in to eat, a stick of butter off the bench one time, the contents of the cat litter tray another. All the Easter eggs once. We followed the trail of tin foil to his kennel and he was there, chocolate smeared lips, trying to look innocent.
He used to make love to the Teddy Bear, called Justin and took the head off one of the cabbge patch dolls. He would chew outdoor garden furniture and a brick once. He was adorable. He would run for miles if escaped from the yard, but was easy to find. He usually would tire himself out so quickly he would lie down on the pavement, heaving, and we could pour him into the back seat of the car.
We ended up having to put him on Valium to walk him as he would hyperventilate and fall over and lie there inert. The girls would ring me up and say I'm at Putt grove and Grunt won't move. He was brough home in shopping Trolleys and prams. Once on the back of Mazza's bike, with Mars holding him. He was a nightmare at times, killed the kitten over the road, shook it once and broke it's neck.
He also attacked a little dog over the road and we had to pay the vet bill. He was a pedigree white Bully and was prone to sun damage to his ears and snout. He was constantly at the Vets for one thing or another. Our vet bill in those days was pretty large, as we had a Palamino agisted in Keysborough as well. Zabeth. A placid animal that the girls rode. He was Yvette's horse at 16.
The girls hid when he had to be gelded, I had to hold his head as he went down from the anaesthetic, a big whoomp and a ripping fart and I was glad I was at the head end. The "Nuts" going in a bucket. I nearly passed out at that sight but stayed steady on my feet. I'm not good with blood.
I'm like the donkey from Shrek,
"Is that blood???" and feel light headed and hot and then like I am going to throw up but don't. I could never make it as a nurse, too squeamish.
All this technology is frightening to the older generations, it's not the way Baby Boomers were taught to communicate. We "hung out", we spoke on the phone. I twice cut the cord on the phone when A, my youngest daughter was constantly on it at 13 onwards. I couldn't understand that she had just left the school grounds and she was back on the phone to her friends as soon as she arrived home. She loved to talk, still does.
I remember the Testra man was puzzled at the "fault" on the cord of the phone, looked like it had been cut with scissors. I just said not a word as I didn't want to get charged the $200 per 15 minutes, Telstra used to charge. When I was a stay at home Mum, kids played in the court, kids walked to school and it was a fair distance. Our house was always full of others kids as well as our own and it was bedlam at times.
But it was also full of fun and chatter and music clips and music on the radio and was complete chaos and I like a bewildered female Professor would smile indulgently and keep stirring the pot on the stove of fudge, or stew, or Fried rice, or Beef Stroganoff and enjoy serving it to the brood.
My two oldest girls worked at McDonalds, part time and brought home all the left overs. One time the oldest one had a black liner bag full of McDonalds, she then proceeded to feed Grunt, that fat white blob of a Bull Terrier, 14 apple pies. She said he was heaving a little by the time he got to the 15th, then vomited the lot up and re ate it all.
The dog was a guts and as docile as a lamb. Stupid with it, but very appealing and comical. He would rest his big white snout aginst the sliding door and bark all day the be let in. We knew if we did he would just rush in to eat, a stick of butter off the bench one time, the contents of the cat litter tray another. All the Easter eggs once. We followed the trail of tin foil to his kennel and he was there, chocolate smeared lips, trying to look innocent.
He used to make love to the Teddy Bear, called Justin and took the head off one of the cabbge patch dolls. He would chew outdoor garden furniture and a brick once. He was adorable. He would run for miles if escaped from the yard, but was easy to find. He usually would tire himself out so quickly he would lie down on the pavement, heaving, and we could pour him into the back seat of the car.
We ended up having to put him on Valium to walk him as he would hyperventilate and fall over and lie there inert. The girls would ring me up and say I'm at Putt grove and Grunt won't move. He was brough home in shopping Trolleys and prams. Once on the back of Mazza's bike, with Mars holding him. He was a nightmare at times, killed the kitten over the road, shook it once and broke it's neck.
He also attacked a little dog over the road and we had to pay the vet bill. He was a pedigree white Bully and was prone to sun damage to his ears and snout. He was constantly at the Vets for one thing or another. Our vet bill in those days was pretty large, as we had a Palamino agisted in Keysborough as well. Zabeth. A placid animal that the girls rode. He was Yvette's horse at 16.
The girls hid when he had to be gelded, I had to hold his head as he went down from the anaesthetic, a big whoomp and a ripping fart and I was glad I was at the head end. The "Nuts" going in a bucket. I nearly passed out at that sight but stayed steady on my feet. I'm not good with blood.
I'm like the donkey from Shrek,
"Is that blood???" and feel light headed and hot and then like I am going to throw up but don't. I could never make it as a nurse, too squeamish.
