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Life, Cats and Great Scots
Being away from home and arriving expecting adoration does put a little strain on a relationship. When my daughter Ashley and I got back from Adelaide in March, I was shocked to see that husband had not only grown his hair sideways out and bushy up top with a huge greying beard, but he had another daughter in place. It was like whilst we were away he got a replacement, had he stolen a girl? No- it was of course Ashley’s close pal Bobbi, she is a lovely girl same age as Ashley who had moved in as she was in between homes and jobs and possibly blokes. Husband and I have known her since she was a teenager and Ashley had of course agreed to have Bobbi stay, it was just slightly unsettling to see husband looking like a tufty bushy father of another girl fussing and making dinner for her. Husband possibly had plans for a whole month of freedom from Ashley and I, where he could walk about in his pants or even naked, pee the floors round the pan and clean it later, live on chocolate biscuits and watch racy online movies as he drank bottles of cold beer and threw them in a pile on the floor for a full six weeks. It’s a middle aged man’s dream, he could eat cheap cuts from Lidl and not face our gloomy stares over unbeknown Eastern European cans of strange soup, he could watch back to back episodes of Family Guy and CSI without me asking him to turn it off, he was basically planning to emulate an Oliver Reed type holiday but Bobbi arrived and pyjama bottoms and fresh milk were now his agenda.
Having another girl in the house is good fun, except I am starting to boss her about like I do my own daughter and am questioning her about where she is going, what she wants from life and can she please stop eating crisps in bed...I think she will move on soon, bless her wee soul.
My other daughter type relationship is with my god daughter and niece Ann Margaret, she has three kids Shaun, Abi and Julia. She also has a mouse, a rabbit and a very evil sneering house cat called Squeak.
Squeak has managed to resist all attempts to ‘be a pet’ it’s practically OCD and has anger issues concerning everyone in the world. I have never known a cat that can slink and sneer at me at the same time. It visibly hates me; maybe I shouldn’t have taken its two front paws and shown it how to scrape its litter tray as it used to shit in the box and then claw all the woodchip wallpaper of the wall beside the litter tray ignoring the shit and just staring intently straight ahead like a victim of some deep dark experiment from a Russian laboratory. Now when it sees me it gets flashbacks and runs sideways like a stilted hobbled demented gymnast and lets out a deep horrid meeeooow, it doesn’t sound nice at all. Even Julia who is only four years old knows the cat is calling hates me “Squeak called you a bad name” Julia can interpret all the cats meaows, and is scarily accurate. “Squeak is evil and wants the mouse to die and land in her mouth” Julia added. She was right Squeak was standing by the low cage patiently waiting for a cage malfunction to occur or her maybe the mind messages she was emitting to Julia would come to effect and the kid would open the cage.
The good news is the mouse has a flinty look in its eyes and I believe the cat maybe in for a fight, meanwhile I am hoping Julia’s next pet doesn’t have a personality disorder.
So back to this past week, Yes, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary, I was recently nominated Great Scot at the Great Scot awards at the prestigious Boisedale Club in London and had to attend wearing blue or tartan then as the night progressed I had to spend heaps of time stopping Roland Rivron from shouting at Annie Lennox whilst he was blabberingly drunk and watch Lorraine Kelly be a better Scot than me and win the award. The same night Willie Carson the jockey and Sir Jackie Stewart the racing driver shared a ride in a lift with me and comedy writer Danny Wallace, it was the first time I had been taller than two other men since I visited a panto, anyway Mr Carson mistook me for Danny Wallace’s wife- that was after everyone assumed I was Roland Rivron’s wife since I was containing his drunken madness.
That week I had been called a polymath by some amazing Rangers fans, then BBC called and asked me to be a commentator on Scottish football and the Scotsman newspaper asked my political opinion...who knew anyone was interested in anything I had to say? In my house am the person nobody actually cares to answer, in my family am the least opinionated person in the alpha female group I move amongst I am not called on anything for advice as it is generally known that I will make a joke before I will take anything serious.
The other good news is I gained heaps of new followers from Rangers football club websites, it would appear that I am so blue to the bone and popular with them and then Celtic football club followers came on board, it was nice to see sectarianism put aside and people coming together to share a chat and a joke!
The Royal wedding made me slightly uneasy, we paid for a big party and not one brown face was in that royal line up! The whole gamut of white Anglo Saxon Germanic history was there in full display! How can a modern family today not have some colour in it? I do...I have a half Asian Nephew on my husband’s side and am sure on my mother’s side there is a half man half goat uncle we try not to mention. I am hoping Ashley will bring some diversity into the gene pool when she starts reproducing, a big brown baby with my curly afro hair would be awesome.
The week was topped off by the scary news that Jack Bauer from US TV actually killed Osama Bin Laden and we saw squillions of Americans foam at the mullet and scream “USA” at the White House in case Obama forgot where he was. There is something distasteful about watching folk celebrate the death of an enemy. Anyway as I speak Osama is working his way through 70 virgins, which must be hard work, all that screaming and bleeding can’t be fun.
Two things happened this week, the first being my daughter Ashley broke some bones in her feet dancing to Tinnie Tempa which isn’t technically a real name but he does good music, I myself have thrown a few shapes to Tinnie. She is feeling better and has vowed never to dance near a SLIPPY vomit covered floor in our prestigious dance halls here in Glasgow, the second thing is SNP swept the board at the election and despite what misprint the newspaper stated; I like SNP, good on them!
Am excited about my shows at Soho Theatre in August so do come along and check out our weekly podcast, me and Ashley have such fun making it and we are up to week 43 check it out on iTunes or my website www.janeygodley.com
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