My New Years resolution is to sit proudly in my yard and give a military style paw salute to my General's Mum, Dad and Joolsy every time they bring rubbish to the bin or come out to peg some washing on the line. I would make it not to bark at everything and everyone who passes my house (Elsie and I feel we own our whole road) but fear this would be broken by 9.00am on New Years Day when folk are passing with their dogs for their morning stroll. Happy New Year.


Joolsy is all, as the song goes, “Joyful and triumphant” now Christmas 2015 is over with. Don’t worry she isn’t one of Ebenezer Scrooge’s distant relatives. Although she was thinking of the double pay she was getting when she was working Boxing Day, in a very Scrooge like manner. There was apparently a stampede on doors opening for the sales to begin! Joolsy works in retail and the common turkey is not her friend from 1 December until 27 December! I do believe Joolsy suffers some sort of post Christmas trauma from turkey orders gone by as sometimes I bring out my Terence the Turkey toy throughout the year and Joolsy visibly shakes on sight of poor Terence. He’s quite cute really and I’m trying to help Joolsy (honest) by giving her turkey exposure throughout the year thus making the mere Christmas turkey seem more palpable. That's my story and I'm stick to it. Elsie and I enjoyed Christmas so much. It started for me on Christmas Eve when my family were having the Scrabble contest to end all Scrabble contests. Joolsy who is normally so meek and mild (she told me to type that) transforms into her aggressive competitive alter ego. She’s like The Incredible Hulk only her face is more Phil Mitchell off Eastenders (bright post box red) once she’s in her game playing zone. Joolsy has been known to throw almighty strops on losing board games. On playing Chav (the council estate version of Monopoly. Not very politically correct I know but a highly entertaining board game) Joolsy gets irate at having to give her Giro payments, her sovereign ring or her alloy wheels to another player. Anyway after losing the first round at Scrabble, Joolsy threw her letters across the room in anger. Dad decided it was time for Joolsy to cool down (she nearly got sent to the naughty step I can tell you and 35 years old this does seem a bit extreme) and went off to make a brew and to crack open the mince pies that Elsie and I had sniffed out from the kitchen side earlier in the day. I followed Dad and as he opened the package one mince pie went astray and somehow ended up in my mouth, yum yum! To Dad it must have all gone in slow motion but to me the pie went down far to quickly for my liking. Dad had to forgo his mince pie (it was making its way nicely down my food pipe to my belly by this point) and had a Mars Bar instead, as I circled around the living room as they all ate in the hope that more offerings were floor bound. However this mince pie came back to haunt us all in the most unsavoury of fashions at 2.30am on Christmas morning! Yes, I had to dash to the back door and scratch, LOUDLY! No, I hadn’t spotted Santa’s sleigh or Major Tim Peake on the International Space Station (although I’m going to keep looking and waving my paw as the stars at night flash overhead in the hope of a wave back from space) this was a dash of the bowel kind and what a mess my bowels made all over the yard. I won’t go into the finer details of my every bowel movement as I know some of you maybe multitasking and eating a meal whilst reading this. I do hope it isn’t a curry! Anyway poor Mum had the task of swilling and sweeping the yard clean after I’d finished decorating it in fifty glorious shades of brown. After my poo escapades we all went back to bed until 7.00am when Santa made a quick delivery while Elsie and I had our breakfast, mine was a bowel settling bowl of rice. Santa used to deliver on Christmas Eve and leave our presents while morning, however I made a such a protest at having to leave the side of my presents that I think we are now last on his postal chimney rounds. He was very generous to Elsie and I though with the help of Mum, Dad, Joolsy and Nana of course. We got two toys each off Joolsy. One was a festive inspired toy. I got a robin and Elsie got a very loud squeaky Santa, that she has just made my ears ring with now as she’s just been running round the room with whilst I’m trying to concentrate on being funny. Our other toy was either inspired by David Attenborough’s The Hunt programme or the WWF (World Wild Fund not the buff wrestlers) had sent Joolsy another update on her monthly charitable donation. I got a penguin and Elsie got a seal. A white seal which Mum was having a near melt down on seeing as to just how white this seal actually was once it arrived and how grey it may become over the coming weeks. Well, that is what happens in the wild I guess so it will be extremely apt. Mum and Dad got us a Nyla Bone each plus a new collar. Mine I’m proudly wearing and Elsie’s is still somewhere between here and China. Paws crossed it will arrive eventually. She was too busy playing with her new wears to notice Mum putting my new collar around my neck. Nan got us some of our favourite treats for the good times when our behaviour is exemplary. Anyway we have enjoyed playing with our new toys so much and I got to fill my belly again with naughties last night when I spotted Joolsy’s Malted Milk biscuit on the low table sat next to her cup of tea. The temptation got to great and I had to have a nibble, of the whole biscuit! I’m getting quite splendid at this now. Whats more Joolsy got the blame off Dad as she was chilling and having a look at Facebook instead of chomping the biscuit, if you pardon the pun there!

It was the end of an era on Christmas Day as Downton Abbey closed its doors for the final time and fans of the show including my family were all so pleased with the ending. Gone were the car crashes, death in child birth and blood curdling scenes that Quentin Tarantino would have being proud to have in one of his blockbusters and in came happiness in its purest unadulterated form. It was bliss. Julian Fellowes obviously took note of the fact that Elsie and I would be camped outside his house (well must be mansion now for sure due to Downton’s massive success) and would’ve been ready to pounce, me teeth bearing and Elsie minus eight teeth, snarling away were he to give Lady Edith a less than satisfactory ending. This happily was not the case and although it was touch and go due to Bertie’s Mother (played by Miranda star Patricia Hodge. I kept expecting her to coo, “Such fun!” as Bertie announced his engagement) wanting her son to live an untainted life, Lady Edith married her Prince. Even Mr Barrow the sometimes pantomime baddy of the show got his happy ending to as he took over from Carson who retired to live the rest of his life on the Downton estate with the lovely Mrs (Hughes) Carson. I must let you in on a little secret here, Joolsy who is now a massive Downton convert (after not initially watching then playing catch up for the start of series three) and sniffled through the final trying to keep her eye make up at bay when she watched it on BOXING DAY as she had to go to work. Yes, folks Joolsy was more intrigued by who was going to die on Eastenders. In fact that was all she talked about throughout her turkey (she managed not to have a melt down over eating it as she did selling it) lunch. She was bitterly disappointed at having to wait until Boxing Day night to find out that it was Fat Boy who died in the car crusher. I feel a showing of The Krays coming again soon as Joolsy seems to enjoy a little gangster style drama a bit too much. I preferred the Disney style outing of Downton Abbey at Christmas, Walt would’ve been proud of the happy ever afters displayed here.

However Mr Walt Disney would not have been proud at all with Joolsy’s Disney film knowledge. On Boxing Day night ITV showed a programme entitled The Nations Favourite Disney Song. It got going and it turns out Joolsy hadn’t seen hardly any of these family films as a child. Then the recriminations at Mum and Dad started as Dumbo’s song was played, “What sort of a childhood did I have when I haven’t even seen Dumbo?” It got worse as Peter Pan’s song played out followed by Frozen. Okay so Mum and Dad can definitely stop feeling guilty about Joolsy never seeing Frozen as she was 33 years old at the time of its release. However Joolsy made them feel guilty like their Disney-less actions were tantamount to child abuse which is not the case at all. As the count down continued Dad guessed the favourite would be Let It Go from Frozen. That was number 4 and was murdered so much by Joolsy that a six year olds enjoyment maybe forever tainted and their ears would forever bleed. I know my Spaniel ears have only just stopped ringing and Elsie’s only just stopped whining, “Will she let it go!” Joolsy guessed the Circle Of Life from Lion King which again she belted out and damaged our ears with in her horrible dulcet tones. There’s no wonder she wasn’t allowed to learn the violin at school as she couldn’t do her musical scales properly. I’d like to tell her music teacher she still can’t do her musical scales properly to this day! Mum won the guessing game with the Jungle Books Bare Necessitates, which was a fabulous number one choice as it is a groovy and happy song when not sang by Joolsy of course. Now you may wonder what films Joolsy did actually watch as a child if she wasn’t watching these Disney classics. She watched Dirty Dancing every day for a whole summer. Laughing every time at the scene where Patrick Swayze touches Jennifer Grey’s bum (the simple things in life and yes she still laughs at it now) in his cabin along with her excitable neighbour. This was followed the next summer by Grease and Grease 2. Joolsy’s excitement was palpable when Maxwell Caulfield joined the cast of Emmerdale some years ago now as the ill-fated Mark Wylde (I say this as he ended up getting shot and buried by his wife Natasha after she discovered his affair). Joolsy’s childhood memories of pretending to be Michelle Pfeiffer’s character Stephanie Zinone and singing along to Cool Rider whilst perched on the end of the Chesterfield sofa acting like it was a Harley Davison all resurfaced on his arrival to the Yorkshire based soap. Other film favourites of Joolsy's growing up were The Terminator. Arnie said he’d be back and after a stint in political life as the Governor of California he kept reprising his role as now a goodie. Joolsy also watched The Poltergeist and Nightmare On Elm Street. It's no wonder she enjoyed the latest series of crime caper Luther so much. Although she now hides her eyes when the scary bits come on with her owl encased iPhone. Lastly as a child Joolsy enjoyed 9 1/2 Weeks and Sharon Stone’s naughty back catalogue of Basic Instinct and Sliver. It’s any wonder this blog isn’t dusted with smut with Joolsy at the editorial helm.

Right I better go as Elsie has already enforced a move up to Joolsy’s bedroom to type this post as she pounced excitably onto the keyboard causing me to have a Cocker Spaniel near seizure as I hadn’t saved it.


Dear Santa
I have been an exceptionally good boy this year (I know you have been keeping you beady eye on me) so for Christmas please may I have the following:-
More Tim Henman style toys. Yes named after the former British tennis star. I didn't have the heart to rename him Andy Murray when Tim retired to his Wimbledon commentary box.
Another rope to play tug of war with Mum, Joolsy or when I'm feeling highly competitive Dad.
More luscious drinks. Okay so better make mine and Elsie's a water, staggering around drunk is not a good look for a dog. By the way that's Mum and Dad's stash that I keep nudging as I pass.
A better pair of glasses, this pair are not designer enough for a pooch of my calibre!
A toy that doesn't resemble Elsie as much. I get confused as I try to play!

Thank you Santa, love, licks and paws Marble. xxx


So it seems we can get a British man up to the International Space Station but two women and a Mini have an epic fail trying to get out of a pothole! Major Tim Peake made it all the way up to space with the whole of the humble British public cheering him on and even some star turns aiding him in his space voyage too. The Queen sent him a telegram that fortunately he actually got. I didn’t know Royal Mail delivered up in space but I guess if it’s order of the British Empire and if the Queen sent it by recorded delivery every special attempt will have had to be made. Then there was pop royalty getting in on the act too with Sir Elton “Rocket Man” John and Sir Paul McCartney sending messages. The launch was so very exciting in our house. Joolsy got her special brew (tea not the alcoholic version popular with park bench sitters in the 1990s) and a Malted Milk biscuit out and her and Elsie sat on the sofa counting down the rocket until it blasted off. I think Joolsy’s still excited about the whole Mr Spoon and Button Moon gazing escapades from the other week, that this Professor Brian Cox fest has just got her all a quiver. I on the other paw just laid looking through the skylight from my very own landing pad to see whether I had a better vantage point of the rocket should it whizz passed our house. The rocket made it safely to the International Space Station and the Astronaut’s families were able to have a Skype/Face Time chat with them. Joolsy remarked that they can get a marvellous signal from all that way but sometimes she can’t get a network signal or Wifi to work here on Planet Earth. It’s only a six hour flight Joolsy if you are that desperate to talk. Mind you BT did once say it was good to talk, they must have worked with some leading doctors to come up with that advertising golden nugget. We all look at each other, Elsie and I included every time the phone rings like it’s an insult to our silent tranquility! Mum and Joolsy found themselves lost up a driveway last night, they obviously don’t have Major Tim Peake’s directional abilities at all! Joolsy had driven her car all of a hundred yards (the governments metric incentive hasn’t reached me as a Cocker Spaniel yet) down to our friends house for a Christmas come birthday drinks party. An event Mum was pleased had occurred as she had already kicked her shoes off when Joolsy arrived and didn’t fancy the walk back up the road home. On leaving Dad decided (wisely it would evidently seem) to walk back and all Joolsy had to do was reverse down the curvy driveway. Easier said than obviously done. They started moving backwards (in the pitch black darkness Joolsy insists I type here) with Mum directing, “You need to get your right hand down to avoid the tree!” There are trees either side of the drive both with conservation/protection orders on them so Joolsy was acutely aware that it would be on pain of death that she drove into one in her Primrose Mini. They got to the bottom of the drive a little on the grass but hey no one was watching then could go no further. Joolsy tried reversing and then going forward with a wine filled Mum instructing her but to no avail, they were stuck in a pothole! Mum started giggling like a school girl and then Joolsy started the instructions of, “Go get Russell and Chris they will have to push us out!” After telling Mum a few times as the orders didn’t seem to filter through properly with her Prosecco brain in full overload mode Mum went back and got the heroes of the hour to come bump them out of the hole. Dad, Elsie and I have been for our usual morning stroll today with our CSI hats firmly on our heads to see if Joolsy, Mummy and most importantly Primrose had done any lasting damage to the grass. Horatio Caine from CSI Miami will be filing a full and thorough report for us but I’m pleased to announce that our primary investigations show that Joolsy did just get stuck down a pothole. We have been singing the Some Mother’s Do ‘Ave ‘Em theme tune all morning though as I swear Joolsy is related to Frank Spencer in some way. Although Joolsy may have to go something to get her car stuck on the edge of a cliff just like Mr Spencer did. However I better stop typing this section of my blog now as I don’t want to give her any ideas. I will say this though, I don’t think Sir Michael Caine would have be too proud of Joolsy’s Mini driving skills as they are hardly the Italian Job finesse. Mind you I don’t think on this occasion it would’ve been necessary to blow the bloody doors off! 

This wasn’t the only disaster to befall Joolsy this weekend. Indeed it was Joolsy who took a fall on Saturday evening rushing to get home for her (and mine and Elsie’s) fortnightly treat of Mama’s Lasagne (I’m drooling as I’m typing this now) followed by the Strictly Come Dancing final. Joolsy went down like a rugby playing supremo who was scoring a game winning try. The only thing she forgot apart from her rugby ball was to protect her left knee. It was a good attempt though without any rugby skills training. So in the house she limped and onto the Calpol she went to relieve her sore and aching knee. There was no jiving from Joolsy on Saturday evening (she was on oh ahhh sofa rest) and disappointingly no jiving from eventual Strictly winner Jay and Aliona either. They decided to perform another of their favourite dances ahead of the fans favourite jive with a Pulp Fiction quirky twist. We all thought this would prove to be their downfall as the other contestants pulled out all the stops but dancing talent prevailed and Jay was crowned Strictly Come Dancing champion 2015. So I’ll be hanging up my dancing shoes until next years competition kicks off, when Dad and I get to do a Waltz around the living room once more.

Now Postman Pat may have had Jess his black and white cat (singalong if you know the theme tune here please) but Mum and Dad had a Cocker Spaniel and a noisy ever barking Yorkshire Terrier whilst they were making their Christmas card deliveries around the village this past week. It turned out to be a weight training session for Mum and Dad too. No, although they are popular within village life and have made lots of lovely friends mainly bumping into folk whilst walking Elsie and I. They knew lots of the dogs names firstly and then moved onto their owners names sometime after. It was us they ended up carrying in the end not a sack full of cards due to areas of the village being so waterlogged through all the rainfall we’ve had. Don’t Elsie and I know it, we get dragged out first thing on a morning and then again mid-afternoon (whether we want to be or definitely not) when it’s all wet and bleak. We often retreat to hide in Joolsy’s room but like well trained members of a search and rescue team they always seem to find us! This particular day we had to make a delivery down a road we’ve been avoiding for weeks due to its boggy conditions. We started going down it and were getting further and further into this puddle. I looked at Dad to offer him my best pick me up now plea and Elsie looked at Mum as the water was lapping the top of her imaginary wadders. This for Elsie was one paw print away from going to the top of the Health and Safety Executives (HSE) list. For me it was a matter of sheer vanity and hatred of all things wet, well apart from the lovely warm showers at the grooming salon. However for Elsie it was a matter of life or death. She could have been swept away, well in a puddle like a little Yorkie drowned rat. Anyway in a nick of time we were both safe and sound in Mum and Dad’s arms and carried to a drier patch of the lane. We’d never make to SAS would we? Once home Elsie was put in the sink for her second bathing of the day and the 50th bath of the winter season so far. These little dogs with their little legs being so low to the ground, mucky or what? Also the towels had to have a little bath of their own in the washing machine. Fortunately Carson and Mrs Patmore (Mum and Dad) sorted that domestic duty out as Elsie and I dried out by the radiator.

Lastly for today I wish you all a Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays from Elsie and I. We are both looking forward to sitting and smelling the turkey cooking in the oven on Christmas morning then having a nibble of it after our families lunch is over, scrumptious!


So this week my family moved into the twenty-first century. Just like the now twenty-first century Fox film studios we had to change our televisual branding. I grant you some nearly sixteen years later than they did but hey whose counting? Now Fox is not the one using Leo The Lion by the way as that is in fact MGM. What a mastermind of film factual information I am today. Yes, Leo please feel free to roar as loudly as you like, I know Mum and Joolsy sure did as we are now officially a high definition family and what a revelation in the world of make up artistry it has turned out to be. One of the first things Joolsy watched was a make up segment on This Morning by legendary Make Up Artist to all the Hollywood A listers, Bobbi Brown. Brilliant as this lady knows a thing or two about enhancing a ladies features to bring out the best of them in make up terms. Oh I sound like this is going to be another skill to add to my Spaniel repertoire. Move over Bobbi, Lisa Eldridge and Charlotte Tilbury there’s a new kid or should that be pooch in town. I will have to learn how to hold a brush and define my sweep technique with the bronzer. Maybe once I’ve trained using You Tube videos as I can’t afford to go to make up classes, I could upgrade Joolsy’s make up as she still uses same eye make up techniques she learnt from a book she got when she was at high school. Having said that her favoured liquid liner on the top lid is still extremely popular today especially with the Duchess Of Cambridge, who is clearly a fan of the feline flick. See I’ve got all my lingo down now! Joolsy’s viewing moved on an hour to Loose Women whose Make Up Artist quite frankly needs firing for crimes against blusher and bronzer. Even for my untrained Cocker Spaniel tear drop eyes there was a little too much sweep technique going on I think! This “Artist” obviously never went to The School of Bobbi Brown and I believe went to the circus for their work experience. I’ll spare the two presenters on the panel with the most enhanced blusher technique from blushing anymore, as they’d look like Ross when he had his now infamous spray tan on Friends. Simon Cowell’s stage make up on The X Factor final looked okay (if it’s ever okay for a man not involved in Strictly Come Dancing to wear spray tan) until he went up to congratulate winner Louisa Johnson and turned around to reveal some of his white bits. No, it wasn’t even down there you mucky lot! The back of his neck, you know the part where a Mother would wash on a school child ready for their inspection in class (oh that went out with the ark did it? How old fashioned do I sound with my high standards in grooming and cleanliness?) was as white as the driven snow and the front part was a decided shade of St Tropez darling!  

Speaking of The X Factor final, I don’t mean to be scathing here as I’m just a mere Cocker Spaniel dog and I’m probably best leaving that up to paid TV Critics in newspapers such as The Mail On Sunday... Oh blow it here I go sharpening my critical eye! I do feel after last nights show and this series as a whole that this programme needs to go on a gap break. Like a student who flies the nest goes to Thailand and then Australia with their backpack in tow and comes back re-energised and full of hope (we are all full of hope for a better series next time around!) It was a bit like car crash telly I’m afraid. There have been technical issues on a show once so slick. Such as Olly Murs telling a contestant they were going home even though they hadn’t gone to “deadlock” yet. Then on Saturday nights first part of the final a glitch where a clip to Simon Cowell’s obvious dismay wasn’t played properly. To Joolsy and Mum’s shock Simon Cowell was clearly trying to ramp up his flagging show by announcing then contestant and soon to be winner Louisa the best thing he’d ever seen grace The X Factor stage. Hello Alexandra Burke and Leona Lewis and their pitch perfect voices not to mention now Coronation Street actor Shayne Ward who could sing any song given to him. Speaking of Hello, I better type this quietly if that can be done as Adele gave a very polished performance. However it was marred in our house by the bitter twosome sat on the sofa with Elsie and I ranting again about not being able to get tickets to see her show next year. We also said, “Goodbye” (there’s all the greetings and pleasantries in todays blog) to One Direction. The highlight of their performance was Harry Styles’s floral tribute to Mary Berry. Looking at his glorious red suit with floral pattern he’s obviously a fan of the Queen of Bakes too. Joolsy was well impressed and named him Mary’s honouree grandson. I better make it clear about the honouree part as there really would be a rumour that would get the papers gossip sections talking! Sadly though I fear The X Factor will return next summer just like all the cycling events in Yorkshire. Our area seems to be flogging cycling tournaments to death. After hosting Le Tour De France’s Grand Depart (okay this one we will let off as it is a global event) we now have The Tour Of Yorkshire to contend with next summer after an event this summer too. Joolsy is going mental already yelling, “Room 101!” No, that’s not the hotel room number where Joolsy has Chris Froome and his avid fans tied up to keep spectator numbers down. It is the popular programme hosted by Frank Skinner (singer of the second most popular football song after the English national anthem, Three Lions. The third most popular England football song being footballing legend John Barnes’s rap World In Motion for the 1990 World Cup) where a celebrity can select things they don’t like and send them to Room 101. So along with middle aged men in lycra, Joolsy would send slow tractor drivers that don’t pull over when they have a long queue forming behind them. Oh the power they yield! Oh I’m fuelled by Joolsy’s rage and I am sounding like a modern dog version of Basil Fawlty. Find me a tree branch and I’m off the bash a cyclist/or a tractor for Joolsy.

I had a minor medical emergency last week that was treated like an episode of Casualty. I was taken to the dog equivalent of Holby City Hospital, the Vets as Dad found a pea sized lump on the lower part of my back. I was rushed down not in a blue lighted ambulance but in Dad's Freelander to see the new Vet who Dad thinks looks like one of the actors from Games Of Thrones. Before Mum and Joolsy start applying their lip gloss and making up medical ailments for Elsie and I on a daily basis, I can confirm this Vet looked nothing like Jon Snow actor Kit Harrington, sorry it must have being another GOT star. Although when Dad and Joolsy took Elsie for her post tooth surgery check up they thought he looked like Peter Kay too as Dad made a joke in the reception area that he was, “Coming in their ears!” just like Peter Kay’s reference to Chorley FM. Joolsy just kept her cool and smiled otherwise the whole appointment would’ve descended into utter chaos. Anyway the Vet was extremely thorough with me and took a sample of the lump which on testing came back clear, phew! However my usually perfectly quaffed fur has a patch out of it, so I’ll stick with my usual grooming salon in future thank you very much. It reminds me of the time Joolsy tried to shave Dad’s head and the razor was bouncing off it like a balloon. Mum’s been in charge of Dad’s hair ever since the Barber’s started charging him a fiver (I wish my fur costs £40 to be styled) but when Joolsy was a child (and Dad had hair) she used to go too as they dolled out Polo Mints at the end of the hair cut and Joolsy smiled so sweetly they gave her a Polo too. Also while I was at the Vets Dad mentioned my “strange” behaviour. Such as the vacant looks I was giving them. Well, perhaps it’s the scintillating conversations you have folks. I’m sorry but I’m a high brow chap with a blog don’t you know? Then they moved onto the way I turn round again and again when deciding where to pee. Like I said I’m (a) doing a comedy turn and (b) very discerning about where in the yard or on the street I leave my scent as I only want the best lady dogs to find me! Dad suggested that I may have dementia so I’m now on medication to increase blood flow to my brain. Joolsy keeps saying I’m a Rowntrees Random. Well, Joolsy I’m not the one staring into cutlery and wanting to follow Mr Spoon off to Button Moon am I?

Lastly for today, with the new chest of drawers that my family found in a local auction house now in situ. Dad being utterly astounded to find a piece he loved so much and Joolsy being utterly astounded that Dad was so utterly astounded, she had to sit down to draw breath. It was time for the old cabinet to depart. Dad took it to the charity Essential Needs who told him they couldn’t do anything with it as mahogany was too old school for their charities needs. Oh dear Mum and Joolsy did tell him it wasn’t fashionable anymore, not even for charity it would seem! So it’s ended up in TV cabinet heaven called the local tip. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!


There should have been another knock at the door this week other than the delivery drivers giving us goods that Mum and Joolsy had ordered online. These goods included a new collar for me. About time as I’ve had mine since I was a young growing boy and I turn eight next month so this is long over due. Elsie not to be out done on the collar or indeed on any front, well her new collar is we are informed is still on its way. This other knock at the door should’ve been two men in white coats coming to assess Joolsy’s mental state. As is it “normal” to gaze into the inside of a spoon and then giggle at the upside down reflexion starring back at you? Mum and Dad had got some new cutlery last week to replace items that have gone walkabout over the years. Okay in the bin or in pack up boxes, never to see the light of day again. The new cutlery is ever so shiny and Joolsy being a total Magpie with sparkles loved how the spoon she was about to take her medication with was glistening. I better explain Joolsy can’t take her medication without a spoonful of jam (not sugar as in Mary Poppins case, that helped the medicine go down in the most delightful way) followed up by two Maltesers. Mars will never go out of business now Joolsy’s medical needs are aiding their profits. “Why am I upside down?” Joolsy enquired to an astounded Dad, who couldn’t believe Joolsy hadn’t been taught this in her Science lessons in school. Oh dear just what has Mum put in Joolsy’s NutriBullet made smoothie this morning? Now for Professor Brian Cox or should that be Professor Dad to give his sermon. “It’s like a hall of mirrors and because it’s concave.” Gosh this is technical stuff! Then Joolsy flipped the spoon over and said, “Now I’m Chubby Jools. Why is that?” Dad shaking his head again in disbelief answered, “It’s now con-vexing you! Making you bigger. Concave and convex you see? What did you learn in your Science classes if you didn’t learn this stuff?” Joolsy racking her brains back almost twenty years now said, “Flirting! So a bit of Chemistry and Biology.” Dad then commented back at Joolsy’s Facebook status of “Single”, “Well it didn’t do you a lot of good did it?” Maybe if Joolsy listened to Professor Brian Cox when he was on the telly instead of laughing at his dreamy (or should that be D:Ream expression, his nineties pop band) face she would have known more than her school failings gave her credit for.

The spoon incident wasn’t the only worrying behaviour from Joolsy this past week. I walked into the living room for my afternoon lie down in my favourite Chesterfield chair to find Joolsy singing REM’s Strange Currencies to her iPhone. The disturbing part was that she was singing to a photo of a Smart TV. This went along the lines of, “… I want to turn you on, turn you up, figure you out. I want to take you on.” She was grabbing the remote control as she sang the line, “Turn you on” and pointing it at the image on her phone. Please don’t let her loose in John Lewis’s audio visual department with a remote control! She may get everyone singing though which maybe extremely entertaining. Then she got to verse two which went, “These words, “You will be mine.” These words, “You will be mine.” All the time.” All along or should that be all the time? Joolsy was miming like Charlie Chaplin in his heyday, putting expression into the words of the song.  Now I’m sure when Michael Stipe and his talented band members wrote Strange Currencies they never intended it to be used as a “The Secret” style visualisation technique but I hope being creative chaps themselves they’d appreciate Joolsy’s creativity with their lyrics. All this was because Joolsy and Mum had sent Dad a cheeky pair of emails whilst he was at work each with the following picture.

Above the photo Joolsy’s message said, “Want one.” and Mum typed, “A TV is for life not just for Christmas.” Well, we found getting Elsie last Christmas that indeed a doggie is definitely for life not just for Christmas so we are moving the situation and saying onto inanimate objects now too in our family. This had the desired effect on Dad though as he’s agreed to get an HD television if can we have it on top of a new converted for the Freeview box and DVD player walnut (not mahogany as Mum was doing a Google search for) chest of drawers. Result! So the search for the chest of drawers not Lord Sugar’s next Apprentice continues. Joolsy could get herself a job with the United Nations. However her blend of sarcasm and wit may have to be curbed slightly on the diplomacy scale that or the UN may have to rewrite their training manual to accommodate Joolsy’s extra humorous skills.

Elsie and I have been dragged quickly down the road twice this week by Mum who’s hair was looking slightly less groomed than usual. Thankfully for Mum we never ran into George Clooney wandering up the road looking for a cup of his favourite Nespresso coffee. In Joolsy’s imagination George’s wife who is beautiful, highly intelligent and we were told by Comedian Kathy Lette, extremely funny, can’t make a decent caffeine fix for her husband. If that is her only imaginary flaw then Amal Clooney really does have it all. Now these early morning sprints were for a very special reason. This being Mum getting her hands on three Adele tickets. Firstly she signed up to be a member of Adele’s online fan club. Wonder if you get a signed picture and some stickers like in the old days? This gave you priority over everyone else once the first lot of tickets were released last Tuesday morning at 9.00am. Mum dutifully turned on the iPad for the Mail Chimp website to crash. That will be my Mail Chimp subscription service for this blog crashing with eager readers wanting their Marble induced Cocker Spaniel style Comedy Turn. Okay I’m getting overzealous here and totally untruthful but hey one day my friends who knows. The website stayed down for around six minutes and then Mum was able to put in her special code and join the queue. The website refreshed itself every twenty-four seconds. I can be so precise as I watched it along with Mummy, Joolsy and Elsie, circulating round and round time and time again. Once Joolsy was ready to sit and watch her morning television programmes Mum left her in charge of iPad duties whilst she went to wash her hair and put her make up on. Phew now George can come a calling for a cuppa! Joolsy kept the iPad on the page but to no avail, we were still in the queue. After three hours of making the iPad stay on the Adele booking page our moment finally arrived and we were asked how many tickets we wanted for our nearest venue. Mum eagerly put in three and the computer as David Walliams exclaimed said, “No!” There were no tickets left. Not even one or even a dicky bird. Then the ranting began, “What? How can this be? I got on the website at 9.06am and was in a queue from then until now. How can they have all gone?” How can one lovely, funny and talented singer cause so much ranting and so many profanities in my household? There was another shot at getting tickets on Friday morning when tickets for the same gig went on general sale. So Mum and this time Dad were on stand-by with the iPad. This time they got straight onto the Ticketmaster site where the tickets were supposed to be on sale and to their sheer horror there was none left at 9.01am! The profanities began again! Elsie and I covered our delicate ears with our paws to give us a swearing-free environment. Mum then went to Ticketmaster’s sister site and found tickets for sale on there for an over inflated price of thousands of pounds. Indeed for the three tickets my family were looking for it would have cost them £7000 that included a £900 booking fee. What sort of paper are these tickets printed on, gold and diamond encrusted? As Joolsy wanted to see "Hello" sang live she came up with a unique and novel way of getting her wish as on Friday morning Lionel Richie (the singer not Dr Savage’s eccentric ex-wife Mariam’s cat in Hollyoaks) tickets also went on sale. I know Lionel has a very different tone to his vocal range to Adele's but he did sing the words, “Hello.” first and he was totally amazing at this years Glastonbury, making him exactly what Joolsy was looking for! As Mum was still ranting an hour later Joolsy managed to complete the registration form and be ready to secure three tickets by 10am. As everyone else was still trying to get their “Hello” Adele fix Joolsy obtained tickets for Lionel right near the front of the arena. They’ll be enjoying his show and Dancing On The Ceiling next summer! As Adele announced extra dates Mum tried another two times to get concert tickets but sadly to there were none left. Adele if you read this and want to play a gig in a quintessential English village just getting in touch with me. I’m sure it will be cheaper to hire you for a private show than it is to go to one of your concerts thanks to the ticket touting companies! My rant is over now I promise but Mum’s still simmering upstairs somewhere!