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Showing content with the highest reputation since 09/15/2018 in all areas

  1. 12 points
    Home by 6,, thankyou lord x
  2. 11 points
    Now I know who to put on the Christmas card list.
  3. 10 points
    CliffTon ........ really enjoyed his photos and posts
  4. 10 points
    Until I joined Nottstalgia several years ago I’d never heard of this Skegness place, nor Pinewood. The reason being, I suppose, I was brought up in a working class household with 2 very loving parents who worked extremely hard, didn’t go out drinking, didn’t own a car, washing machine, refrigerator until the late 60s and they put their children first. Every year without fail they took us to the east coast for a week, I had the utmost respect for my Mum and Dad, they did their very best for my brother and I. Today is the 30th Anniversary of my Mum’s death (at only 64 years of age) I think about her every single day, couldn’t have wished for a better friend.
  5. 10 points
    T'was the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck... How to live in a world that's politically correct? His workers no longer would answer to "Elves," "Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves. And labour conditions at the north pole Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul. Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety, Released to the wilds by the Humane Society. And equal employment had made it quite clear That Santa had better not use just reindeer. So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid, Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid! And people had started to call for the cops When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops. Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened. His fur-trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened." And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows, Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose And had gone on the telly, in front of the nation, Demanding millions in over-due compensation. So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife, Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life, Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz, Demanding from now on her title was Ms. And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion That making a choice could cause so much commotion. Nothing of leather, nothing of fur, Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her. Nothing that might be construed to pollute. Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot. Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise. Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys. Nothing that claimed to be gender specific. Nothing that's war-like or non-pacific. No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth. Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth. And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden, Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden. For they raised the hackles of those psychological Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological. No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt; Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt. Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passé; And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away. So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed; He just could not figure out what to do next. He tried to be merry, tried to be gay, But you've got to be careful with that word today. His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground; Nothing fully acceptable was to be found. Something special was needed, a gift that he might Give to all without angering the left or the right. A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision, Each group of people, every religion; Every ethnicity, every hue, Everyone, everywhere...even you. So here is that gift, its price beyond worth... "May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
  6. 9 points
    Thanks Lizzie,, not been posting much,, only time ive been out is to Hospital appointments,, don't want to come on here talking about them just get on everyones tits,,..........still logging in to see what's gooing off though,,not much it seems at the moment ?.......aiming for trip into Bulwell monday i hope,,wife as to drive not up to it yet,,can't twist me neck far enough yet,,be nice just to have a coffee in 'Wetherspoons' and see me old mates............
  7. 9 points
    Ties are probably out since the"doings" but daughter bought me some "Cravats" today,, got hospital appointment friday,which will be my first day out,, So shower,shave,and hit the world again,,best Guccies new Cravat,,maybe back in Bulwell town,,see me Geezer mates,,
  8. 9 points
    A day full of appointments for me today. Dentist and hygienist this morning. Don't know how Tipperary Man gets dental treatment for nothing, it cost me £80 just for a check-up and clean. My dentist was pleased with the state of my gob though! Then this afternoon I went to see my tummy consultant. He's really pleased with the progress I've made in the past year and said that he reckons I will continue to improve over the next couple of years, however I'll never be 100% right after the two major surgeries I've gone through since May 2016. He asked if I'd like to be 'signed off' but I said that I'd rather keep the contact with him going as a reassurance, a sort of comfort blanket I suppose. I've been very lucky indeed, my condition was life-threatening prior to my first operation, but he didn't tell me at the time, only since! I'll be back to see him for a reassuring chat in 6 months. Flu jab tomorrow too!
  9. 9 points
    A day of memories and reflection for me today. It being the 30th Anniversary of my beautiful Mum’s passing at only 64. I went to Wilford Hill, the first time I’d been up there since Chulla’s memorable funeral service. Picked up my brother and we met Mum’s last remaining sibling and her husband, aged 89 and 90. We spent a thoughtful couple of minutes looking at the Book of Remembrance and then my aunt amused us with tales of their childhood in the Meadows. Stories of 3 in a bed, her borrowing Mum’s clothes and makeup (there was 5 years between them), notable family squabbles, being sent to Sanderson’s Tripe Shop on Arkwright St, (near that bridge that had Hopcrofts on it) for their Dad’s dinner (yuk!) and having to make sure they came home with “a bit of light, a bit of dark and a bit of honeycomb” ........ oh dear, makes me feel ill thinking about it. I’m sure she said my grandad ate it raw, would that be right?!!!! I think there’s a Butchers thread on here, perhaps that shop is mentioned although we’re talking about a time of rationing. We then went around the cemetery, purposely going past Edwin Starr’s grave and went to put flowers on my Dad’s grave. Tidied it up and was concerned about just how many graves are sinking. Back home and we’ve had WhatsApp calls from both sons. One has ridden a Tropical Storm in Antigua this past week and the other has been in Singapore working on the F1 track but never stays to watch the race these days, he’s now in Jakarta working on a contract. The lads have a team working on a project on a NASCAR track in Charlotte, North Carolina. The weather, as we know, is awful over there and they’ve been held up for the last 3 or 4 days but hopefully they’ll get the job complete in time for the upcoming race. I’ll be happy when my boys are home!
  10. 8 points
    Earlier this week an Extraordinary meeting of the WW Household Domestic Effects, Chattels and Maintenance committee was convened. Item on the agenda; a new house number plaque. Investigations were made using junk mail brochures and on-line sales sites. Mrs WW saw and suggested buying an on-line one at £30. Mr WW insisted that he could make one from items stored in the 'might-need-this-one-day' reserve. It was explained by Mr WW that a suitable wooden background could easily be made with chamfered edges and corners, sanded smooth, suitably stained and varnished and brass numbers attached, all of which were already available at no cost. This was overridden by Mrs WW, who has the authority of two votes. Meeting was adjourned while a £30 plaque was ordered from an on-line site. Report back when affixed to house. The convening of this meeting was in no way influenced by the fact that two neighbours had recently installed new number plaques.
  11. 8 points
    CAKE..........Did I read CAKE. I don't know what you are doing .....but count me in! Sorry you are not seeing much of me Miducks, but I am at Skegvegas in a caravan for two weeks and the flippin' WIFI is on off on off all the while. So if you can't read this post.....you will know it's off???. Seriously, there really is a bad connection, but I'm doing my best to keep up with NS and all the gang. The weather here is fabulous. Hope you're all getting some sunshine where ever you are.
  12. 8 points
    Each and every morning at The Manning commenced with assembly in the hall. The sixth form sat on chairs at the side of the stage. The fifth form sat at the back of the hall on chairs carried to and from their form room for the purpose. Everyone else sat on the hard, unremitting parquet floor, youngest nearest the front. The music department (all one of him) played recorded classical works whilst we filed in and out (silently, or else) and then seated himself ceremoniously at the black Steinway grand, ready for the hymns. Assembly was very definitely a Christian affair. There were none of your multi-faith meanderings at The Manning. Strangely, Roman Catholics - and there were only a few of them - didn't participate in assembly but went off to a room on their own with Barmy Colleen, the Irish maths teacher and would-be waitress at the Pytagoras Tearoom. It was all very mysterious and although I once asked one of these girls exactly what they did while the rest of us were in the hall, she wouldn't spill the beans. Whatever it was, the thought of spending half an hour first thing every morning with Barmy Colleen filled me with sheer, naked fear. I wasn't Roman Catholic but, if I had been, I'd have defected to the Moonies rather than spend 30 minutes each morning writing "Mea Culpa" one hundred times in the back of an exercise book in the same way I continually wrote out, "The square on the hypotenuse..." assuming that is what they did. What else can you do for half an hour? Self-flagellation? Confession? Did Colleen have a little box and a funny hat, a la Dave Allen? An arcane mystery it remained, although I suspect it was just another lecture about how rotten the English were to the Irish and, if they were all like Colleen, who could blame them? We had several girls who were the daughters of a Sikh family (most went on to become doctors) but they didn't require their own assembly. They just mucked in with the rest of us. When all were seated, the swing doors at the back of the hall would burst open and the All Seeing Eye (ASE), also known as the headmistress, swept down the middle aisle as a sea of girls rose to their feet on both sides, remaining upright until the end of the first hymn, announced by the ASE who was, by then, on the stage. Prayers followed: Our Father, Teach us, Good Lord, etc. Seated again, the ASE read from the Bible, usually St Paul. Given that St Paul always seemed to regard females as second class citizens, he found unusual favour with the ASE. You would have thought there'd be the occasional passage from Germaine Greer: "A woman needs a man like a fish needs bicycle ," might have crept in here and there. Sadly not. Now into our second hymn, with the sixth form providing a lively descant, sun glinting on the gold lettering of the Roll of Former Head Girls, among them one Katrina Sparrow. No relation, I'm pleased to say. At the words "Be seated, girls," a side door opened to admit Barmy Colleen and her Catholic progeny, just in time for the most interesting bit of the gathering. Notices. Perhaps twice a week, even before assembly began, one or maybe two girls were standing (squirming would be a more accurate description) on the edge of the stage. Standing Under the Dome was bad enough but anyone teetering directly under the proscenium arch of a morning was poised for the high jump and no mistake. It was not until Notices that their heinous iniquities were revealed. Notices was merely a euphemism for "These are the rules and here are the names of those who've broken them." Here is a typical selection. All names have been changed. Any girl caught disposing of sanitary towels down the toilet will be severely dealt with. Incinerators are provided in both toilet blocks at great expense. Calling out the plumber to unblock the drains costs money the school can't afford ...and we don't want males on the premises! No girl will be excused sports or swimming unless they produce a note from their parents... even if their leg is hanging off. Failure to bring your games kit will result in a stint Under the Dome, after you've done PE in your underwear in the freezing cold gym. The deputy head has amassed a box of lost property and uniform items. If you have mislaid anything, please go to her office at break time today, after which the whole lot will be thrown into the dustbin. Caveat: should any item be identified as yours, a stint Under the Dome will follow for failing to put your name on it in the first place! Make-up and nail varnish are not permitted in this school. The sight of fresh young faces made even more attractive through the use of pan stick, blusher, mascara and lipstick only emphasizes to the tweedy, brogued twin-sets who teach you what wizened old prunes they have become and that Prince Charming is never going to come calling. Flossie Fanshaw and Floozie Fawcett, both of 5S, are serial offenders and up here on the stage this morning as a result of their refusal to toe the line. So, be warned! It has been brought to my attention (by Pickleface, doubtless) that Lola Leivers of 5G was observed, wearing full school uniform, in the fervid embrace of a spotty-faced youth outside Staddons at 4:45 p.m. yesterday. You are reminded of the respect you should have for the uniform of this school and, I need hardly add, physical contact with anything male ...spotty faced or otherwise ...must not take place whilst wearing it. Look of supreme disgust cast in the direction of Lola, teetering, red faced, on the stage edge. Gertrude Gormless stands before you this morning, girls, with septic earlobes, having been foolish enough to have them pierced. I would remind you that the wearing of jewellery of any form is not permitted in school, other than a watch with a plain leather strap. Earrings, rings, bracelets and items worn around the neck will be confiscated on sight. House and Prefect badges worn on the school tie are, of course, permitted. Whoopie!!!! Carole Chuffer of 6B was, to her shame, found smoking in the upper quad toilets at lunch time yesterday and a packet of 20 Embassy cigarettes confiscated. This is not the behaviour the school expects from sixth form girls. Carole will be spending the rest of the week Under the Dome at lunch times and will while away her break times in the biology lab, studying the specimen jar containing a pair of cancerous lungs, kindly obtained for the school by Dr Dunnit, Head of Biology. Finally, a reminder that complete silence should be maintained when passing through the Admin Block between the quads. Noise levels have been increasing of late and are disturbing both myself and the deputy head who are trying to sleep....er,... work. No girl below the sixth form is permitted to cut across the quads at any time. We expect you to know that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line but, unless you are a staff member or a sixth former, you must walk all the way round ...and be late for your lesson as a result, for which you will be punished. Assembly is now dismissed.
  13. 8 points
    Sick of The Manning! Sick bay consisted of a broom cupboard. Like everything else at the Manning School, it was not designed for comfort, ease or encouragement to idle away one's time in anything unrelated to hard work. A visit to Sick Bay was one of the few legitimate reasons for a girl to be lurking in the Admin Block. Apart from passing through en route from the lower to upper quadrangles, or vice-versa, the place was associated mainly with punishment: standing 'Under the Dome' was the prescribed penance for most transgressions- being late, bad manners, incorrect uniform, stray hairs on your collar or simply for having the temerity to exist in the first place, etc, etc. Loitering at the bottom of the staff room stairs, by the pigeon holes, was permitted if girls needed to see a member of staff to explain the reason why her homework hadn't been done. Those wooden pigeon holes must have witnessed all manner of lame excuses: Grandma dropped dead last night, my parents have decided to split up, the roof fell in, the guinea pig ate my logarithm book ....all futile, but which naturally progressed to a stint Under the Dome. Heaven forbid you had any reason to visit the Headmistress's office! The Admin Block was the only area of the school to boast two storeys; well, there was a similar area at the back, opening onto the staff car park where the Irish Colleen parked her Austin 1100 (green, naturally) when she wasn't trying to run me over with it... and the music teacher's red Vauxhall Viva could also be found out there. The art room was located on the first floor, up a flight of plain, stone steps with a utilitarian metal handrail, quite unlike the sweeping risers in the Admin Block with their polished mahogany balustrades, which led up to the staff room, senior library, and needlework room and from where one could look down upon those condemned to stand Under the Dome, at the same time thanking the gods that it wasn't you. The back entrance was the poor relation. Grubby and dingy, it housed the caretaker's room and whiffed of disinfectant, sour mops and buckets. These days, no doubt, someone would suggest daubing a multicultural mural on the wall, declaiming the elitist evils of single-sex grammar schools, depicting gender-neutral toilets or the benefits of gender reassignment (not at this school, you don't!!) or girls sporting trousers. Of course, young as we were, we all knew that girls always wear the trousers, metaphorically, if not physically. In comparison, the Admin Block was posh because it was the entrance used by visitors. It was also intimidating to late arrivals who were forced to stand on its marble floor, Under the Dome, gazing up at the School motto: "Omnia probate, Optima tenete," roughly translated as "This will teach you to pass your 11 +, Clever Dick." To return to the Sick Bay. It contained an antiquated brown rexine-covered, wooden examination couch, replete with one pillow and a folded grey army blanket. On the wall, an equally antiquated wooden cupboard, sporting a red cross on the door, a pot sink (crazed, like everyone else in that establishment) and a white enamel bucket on the floor in case anyone needed to chuck up. Clearly, sickbay was designed for one girl at a time. Two girls in a small room on their own was forbidden at The Manning, especially in the toilets. Why? We had no idea but the staff seemed to have a problem with the possibility. So, Sick Bay wasn't terribly inviting but, come the last day of term before Christmas, it always had a visitor ...yours truly. Being of an antisocial nature from conception, it pained me to spend my days in that place at all but when it donned its 'jolly, festive, tinsel' face, t'was more than my innards could bear. The entire school on this day split into houses: St David's (mine), Armagh, Canterbury, and Edinburgh, skipping off to play party games with their house staff in the gym, the hall, the dining room or the art room. For me, this was a step too far. The pedagogical ogres suddenly transmogrified into Santa and his elves made me want to heave and so to sick bay I went. Lying on the hard wooden couch, wrapped in an army blanket was far preferable to Pass the Parcel with Pickleface or Pin the Tail on the Head of Geography (although I know where I'd have stuck it). Sick Bay was a haven of festive peace and tranquility while I waited for the office to ring my parents. Within an hour, mum would be at the door and dad waiting at the gate in the Standard Vanguard. "What's wrong with you, then?" he winked as I climbed into the back. I didn't need to answer. He knew. Like father, like daughter. I went home early for the holidays and he went back to work, smiling. Worked a treat every year!
  14. 8 points
    After reading the following you may agree with my son that i am certifiable. Two days ago my daughter in law and i were talking about people contacting you after death, she is a stauch believer in this white feathers and white butterflies. Later that night sitting quietly out of the corner of my eye i saw a circle of blue light coming from a shelf that held some of Alans bits n bobs must admit it scared me, i sat looking and sometime later it happened again. Thoroughly spooked i rang my son after telling him that his dad was trying to contact me there was a silence then he burst out laughing ....on the corner of the shelf there is an air freshner that emits a circle of light before the scent. When he stopped laughing he said where do you think Dad would have got a hold of a torch with a blue light and then decide to wave it at the ceiling, tomorrow i will spend his inheritence. His parting comment was when the lads are sitting in the middle of nowhere in the dark just waiting i will tell them about you and your light.
  15. 7 points
    That's no way to talk to absentees. Cliff Ton, NBL and the rest of you who've been AWOL for too long, get back on here, at once, immediately and without delay, or else.....we'll send Ben round in his liberty bodice!
  16. 7 points
    Nottstalgia not the same without you Cliff Ton...........
  17. 7 points
    Can’t get a word in edgeways
  18. 7 points
    NBL is a man with a lot of information on a lot of subjects who does not mind sharing. I would like to see him back .....without his advice there would have been one little guide dog puppy who may not have made the grade.
  19. 7 points
    Siddha, my long term Catholic boyfriend, who went to the same school as you, used to meet me outside the Methodist Church where I used to go on Sunday mornings. I remember asking him once if he would like to come to the service with me but he said he wasn't allowed to. These days, I think it is more relaxed, and I know some Catholics (and a Muslim lady, a Jewish lady and a Jehovah's Witness!) who have been to our church. One of the Catholic ladies always helps with the Church Holiday Club It sounds like the start of a joke doesn't it... "A Catholic, a Muslim, a Jew and a Jehovah's Witness went into a Baptist Church.......".
  20. 7 points
    I've always liked Mansfield.......the folk are different but not in a bad way,, worked there quite a bit Vernons,,(ex marsdens) Queen street,, Farrands Church street,,both in the 60s,,obviously did a bit of courting up there as well,,got beat up behind the Picture house,,(made a right mess of me Italian suite). Crashed me Van coming out of Mansfield in 1964,, so had to change back to Nottingham girls only until it was fixed,,worked as Store Detective at the Coop in Woodhouse 90s,, Funny shoplifter story there as well,, i was inducting about 12 Security Guards upstairs in the training room,,when i got a call that a well known 'lifter'' was filling his boots on the shop floor,,took all 12 Guards down to shopfloor ,(all in full uniform)...well the look on his face was magic,,..........lol
  21. 7 points
    Lovely chap,,when I'm proper again,gonna try and meet him for coffee,,
  22. 7 points
    Look at all the money he's going to save by not smoking. He'll be able to treat all his lady friends to espressos! Queue here, girls!
  23. 7 points
    Amazingly nowt'' didnt need to....,,two youngest Grandkids 3 and 5 heard my new Robotic voice today,,told em ''wore me old one out,,so went to hospital to have a new one''....they like the new one...........
  24. 7 points
    Similar to me, Lizzie. I know I was fortunate to be brought up by 2 loving parents - the only difference was that we DID have a car as my dad worked for the Ministry of Food in the forties and then as a travelling salesman in the fifties/very early sixties. We certainly weren't rich in a material sense and I never even asked if I could go on any big school trips as I know there wasn't 't the money to pay for things like that. My mum was amazing as she fed and clothed us with great imagination. My few clothes were made by her well into my teens. They were very careful with money because they had to be... I remember the happiness I felt when I got my first pay packet and was able to give my mum some.of it. I still think of my mum every day, too, and SO wish she'd been able to meet her great grandchildren.. she would have loved them so much (as she did all children she met) Even though my childhood was happy, I do know, and have had dealings with, deprived children, as we fostered 3-4 damaged teenagers over several years, so I do understand what difficulties they have been through and the effect it has had on their lives.. Although I may not have had the childhood experiences of some on here, does it make me a 'snowflake' because I want to do all I can to break the cycle? (of inadequate parents bringing up deprived children) As I've said before, I also like hugging trees occasionally (but I've never understood why this has anything to do with anything!!).
  25. 6 points
    Thanks RR, I try to write posts that may be interesting to lots of people and not just one or two regulars. It’s got people talking about a load of tripe anyway ....... not really unusual on here though!
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