Today was going to be an incident free day.
I am still full of aches and pains following my unfortunate tumble " Pussy Willow Hunting" and yesterday I spent a dreary 5 hours cleaning the cottage carpets with an industrial sized carpet cleaner which gave me a whole set of new aches and pains to cope with.
I am thinking of writing to the Governor of the New Wrexham super prison with the suggestion that his prisioners should indulge in some old lady carpet cleaning duties as part of their punishment for it is soul destroying and back breaking work.
Anyhow , as usual, I digress.
Like I said , today was going to be an incident free day. I was toying up whether to have a sneaky trip to the cinema or to clear the back garden of it's winter crap.
Against my better judgement the garden won.
And so before that could happen, I strode out with Mary for our two mile morning constitutional.
Now it's a little known fact that occasionally I suffer from what is blanketly termed irritable bowel syndrome. I don't really mention it much. There is enough shit talk on Going Gently at the best of times, suffice to say when I need to go! I gotta go!
I was at the furthest point away from home when I had the urge shall we say and knowing that only so much buttock clenching would be effective short term , I weighed up my options.
There were none, well none other than to jump the nearest gate and disappear behind a hedgerow, so I am ashamed to say that in Farmer Basil's field on top of the Gop I picked a suitable sunny spot to "contemplate things"
Big mistake.
In seconds what seemed like 200 ewes appeared from nowhere. I was metres from their feeding troughs and when one gets the idea food is being deposited , they all get into the act so within moments of fumbling with my elasticated waistband ,a near hysterical Mary and I were faced with hundreds of eager faces all expecting dinner.
I might as well waved a union Jack over my head to let any passing motorist or indeed Basil down on his farm where I was and what I was doing.
I'm 53 for Christsake, I should be acting as a grown up!
I am still full of aches and pains following my unfortunate tumble " Pussy Willow Hunting" and yesterday I spent a dreary 5 hours cleaning the cottage carpets with an industrial sized carpet cleaner which gave me a whole set of new aches and pains to cope with.
I am thinking of writing to the Governor of the New Wrexham super prison with the suggestion that his prisioners should indulge in some old lady carpet cleaning duties as part of their punishment for it is soul destroying and back breaking work.
Anyhow , as usual, I digress.
Like I said , today was going to be an incident free day. I was toying up whether to have a sneaky trip to the cinema or to clear the back garden of it's winter crap.
Against my better judgement the garden won.
And so before that could happen, I strode out with Mary for our two mile morning constitutional.
Now it's a little known fact that occasionally I suffer from what is blanketly termed irritable bowel syndrome. I don't really mention it much. There is enough shit talk on Going Gently at the best of times, suffice to say when I need to go! I gotta go!
I was at the furthest point away from home when I had the urge shall we say and knowing that only so much buttock clenching would be effective short term , I weighed up my options.
There were none, well none other than to jump the nearest gate and disappear behind a hedgerow, so I am ashamed to say that in Farmer Basil's field on top of the Gop I picked a suitable sunny spot to "contemplate things"
Big mistake.
In seconds what seemed like 200 ewes appeared from nowhere. I was metres from their feeding troughs and when one gets the idea food is being deposited , they all get into the act so within moments of fumbling with my elasticated waistband ,a near hysterical Mary and I were faced with hundreds of eager faces all expecting dinner.
I might as well waved a union Jack over my head to let any passing motorist or indeed Basil down on his farm where I was and what I was doing.
I'm 53 for Christsake, I should be acting as a grown up!
This week each daily post has topped the last for, um, hilarity?
ReplyDeleteI'm staying in bed tomorrow
ReplyDeleteBrings back memories. I was "worried" by a yapping terrior when squattinng in a hedgerow - I could not get my knickers up fast enough! Hope your aches and pains are receding.
ReplyDeleteHilarious! I'm fairly new to your blog, John, but I do know that you have a slew of devoted followers who wouldn't dream of starting their days without you. I can certainly see why! What I don't understand is why you do so much housework and why walking the dogs is always your responsibility.
ReplyDeleteShawn, i do most things at home cos i only work one shift at the hospital per week, the prof puts in hours and hours at the university
DeleteThats the deal!
My hubby and I have a similar deal. It works very well for us too. At least there is no arguing about whose job is whose!
DeleteThis is why I read your blog first thing in the morning ! I can start my day with a giggle, smiling fondly during the day when I imagine you and the sheep ... and those sheep.. my son had a stuffed toy sheep that he named Sean. LOL
ReplyDeleteI suffer from the same thing John and I think most people probably do on holiday because of the change in food, water, etc. We were being shown round a religious cave site in Peru and my "attack" hit me. I was just praying I could get out of there quick enough because I was NOT going to desecrate (desecrate being the operative word I guess) that site. I spoke to our tour guide on the way hobbling to the bus and she arranged for us to stop off at a little gift shop. Then all the other buggers on our tour beat me to the loos so I guess I wasn't the only one suffering. And I can see a pair of elasticated tracksuit bottoms on the horizon for me too. Anna
ReplyDeleteAnna it would have made a better story if you had defecated on the desicrated
DeleteI do sympathize.
ReplyDeleteThat is my malady also. Many frantic searches for the nearest relief station (once in a gathering of firs around an old and elegant cemetery headstone with my curious pooch lurking within; how awful and memorable that one 'remains.') Poo.
ReplyDeleteThere is always one that posts a better story! Good on ya x
DeleteI don't have the same exact problem but you can pretty much count on my bladder filling up twice as fast when I am in a car.
ReplyDeleteI have crohn's which has very similar symptoms. In the past, the first thing I did in a new place was to locate the restrooms. That's how bad it was. I tell people when I gotta go, I gotta go and that means now. Flying is always very stressful. I was on remicade infusions every 2 months for years. Then, my health insurance provider forced a switch to Humira. I self injected every two weeks for a couple of years. Now, it's every week because of related psoriatic arthritis pain. Do you take anything for it? I had the worst possible symptoms for a long time. The remicade worked very well for me. The Humira, not so much but the symptoms overall are much improved from how bad it had been. I also take a med called ASACOL, about 6/day.
ReplyDeleteI've never had to resort to the great outdoors, however there have been some photo finishes indoors.
Its only self diagnosed.....! Perhaps im just lazy !
DeleteOh, John! As a fellow sufferer I can really sympathize. And, those damn sheep!
ReplyDeleteAh- we're all just grown-up children.
ReplyDeleteOH JOHN....This is just too much fun!!! If I keep reading your blog I think I'll have to invest in Depends. That way when I piss my pants from laughing no one will know.
ReplyDeleteWhen you gotta go...
ReplyDeleteI do so sympathise! Bless you, John...
ReplyDeleteI do so sympathise! Bless you, John...
ReplyDeleteHee hee! John, Your life should be a TV show.
ReplyDeleteWell, that made me laugh. sorry.
ReplyDeleteOh my the memory you brought back to me. Years ago on our way back to NC from Florida we were out in the middle of nowhere and I had to go. Told hubby to pull off the road at the next clump of trees. I rushed out before the car had even stopped. Got behind the trees and just dropped my pants when a truck pulled over and opened a cage with hunting dogs out! Of course the first place they headed was to me. I jeeked my pants up and raced back to the car where hubby and kids were laughing so hard they had tears. I was so embarrassed !
ReplyDeleteThere is a theme going on here
DeleteDid you grab one of the smaller ones for hygiene purposes as long as they were volunteering?
ReplyDeleteBest comment !
DeleteI was wondering the same thing. I hope John always has so tissues packed.
cheers, parsnip
Disguesting!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteBwaaaahaahaa
ReplyDeletePoor you! I do sympathise. I too have the 'when I've got to go I've got to go' situation and I am still embarrassed that I once had to 'go' on Burton Dassett Hills....many many years ago before there were toilets there and there is very little cover of any sort! mind you I was only about 9 or 10 years old!
ReplyDeleteThats your story, bet it was only a few months ago
DeleteAh yes. I have to confess to a similar incident. One Sunday morning, VERY early (I'm talking 5am) I was caught short in the park. There was NO ONE around so I crouched behind the bushes. Just at the vital moment a couple came along with their two Labradors crashing along the path. It couldn't have been better times in a well-rehearsed farce.
ReplyDeleteThis is AMAZING so many sad sacks here are responsible for outside wees and poos!
DeleteI am not alone !
I can't pee outside. I tried, but the faucet won't turn on until I am Inside .. fresh air and my bare bottom .. do not allow peeing. Really. There will never be a headline that reads, Notes Found Pissing Behind A Barn Holding a Chicken for Modesty.
DeleteDo not ever grow up John. Ever.
ReplyDeleteIf i reach 60 I will grow up
DeleteNo, don't do it, growing up is a trap!
DeleteWell I want you to reach 60 ... I want you to reach 90 but we still don't want you to Grow Up. You are perfect the way you are ... sez I.
DeleteHi john , well mine was a wee .i had come out of club and they would not let me back in to use the toilet.No matter how much i pleaded . So i shouted okay i'll do it over there i ran to the field at the side took me jean shorts and knickers off.and sat down and had a wee. There was loads of people just stood there with the mouths open.I was drunk at the time.
ReplyDeletelisa xx
Not laughing honest ..... baa, baa, baa ;-)
ReplyDeleteI have similar "gotta go" moments. I know I will still be embarrassed the next time it happens, but at least I'll know I'm not alone :)
ReplyDeleteWhen you all go walkies now, do you carry an extra Poo bag for yourself.....
ReplyDeleteWet wipes, and air freshener too?
DeleteThey probably thought that Wallace and Gromitt had entered their field but in those Aardvark Animated films I do not recall Wallace dropping his kegs in a sheep pasture!
ReplyDeleteYou have my total sympathy - I'm frequently 'caught short' and my 'nervous bowel' problem is the bane of my life. It always strikes when I'm at the furthest I can possibly be from a loo.
ReplyDeleteTwenty years ago my partner and I had gone to Shetland and we'd travelled by bus to see the Iron Age site at Jarlshof. I can't quite remember how often the buses ran but not that often. We were standing by the side of the road at Sumburgh Head waiting for the bus back to Lerwick and our ferry when I suddenly knew I had to 'go'. Not a public loo in sight out there, of course, so I had to jump behind a wall and let nature take its course. During the recent series of 'Shetland' on BBC1 the posh looking hotel at Sumburgh Head was featured several times. Every time I saw that building I thought - yup, and I once had to do an emergency crap not far from there!! Oh, and no, I didn't have any tissues on me that day (ALWAYS have them with me these days) but I did have a very useful copy of The Times!!
You should have had "The Sun" Elizabeth. It's full of **** to begin with. Mind you with Rupert Murdoch owning "The Times" you were probably making a well-considered political statement.
DeleteDid the phrase "oh shit" pass your lips!
ReplyDeleteYou should have borrowed Winnie's 'pant's of shame' and done it in them!
ReplyDeleteAww poor you John but it was funny x
ReplyDeleteShit happens!
ReplyDeletePoor John, I feel your pain. I'm always amazed when someone has confessed to me that they can't "do their business" away from home in a strange location. I'm always...Really? Well, you must not have IBS or diviticulitis because with those on deck...you can S*** anywhere! X
ReplyDeletePS: I've discovered turning 60 is not for growing up...it's a good excuse for allowing yourself to be even sillier!
DeleteI would have felt quite sheepish under the circumstances.
ReplyDeleteYou ewe you! Last time I nipped behind a hedge for a sneaky wee, I got stung on the bum by nettles. Bad move!
ReplyDeletethe animals will be the death of you!
ReplyDeleteThanks for yet another belly laugh, and please please please, never grow up. It's over rated.
ReplyDeleteHere ya go, John....do you think Winnie might enjoy this too? LOL!
ReplyDeletehttps://www.facebook.com/B1tchBible/videos/1669609923304445/?fref=nf
you so baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!
ReplyDeleteHaving IBS really helps with fast decision making and problem solving skills. The sheep were obviously impressed with your quick thinking and gathered around to congratulate you.
ReplyDelete" ewe are you looking at ? "
ReplyDeleteI got stung on the bum by nettles while weeing behind a hedge once.
A small fold up spade might be useful.
ReplyDeleteI woke up this morning with a headache. Your column made it go away. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteDon't worry it's a British law of nature that as soon as you step behind a hedge, wall or thicket to relieve yourself in an apparently deserted place; a walker, cyclist, farmer or inquisitive dog will appear. If you're a woman you also have the added sub clause of the nettle that remains invisible until you squat over it. I hope you took advantage of the 'convenience' of nearby wool.
ReplyDeleteAnd there's the answer to my earlier question. Mary worked, John poohed.
ReplyDeleteI don't know, ewes nowadays, they have no sense of diplomacy. Just barge in when a person's taken short and broadcast everything to the world....
ReplyDeleteGet rid of the carpets. Especially with all your animals. Much easier to mop floors. Rugs and carpets are never really clean. But another funny story.
ReplyDeleteGet rid of the carpets. Especially with all your animals. Much easier to mop floors. Rugs and carpets are never really clean. But another funny story.
ReplyDeleteOh, my Dear John! I've been away for a very long time and am just now catching up with your blog. Thank you for a wonderful chuckle this fine, spring morning! I also suffer from ABS and can relate whole-heartedly to your predicament. I only wish it could be my ewes encircling me...
ReplyDelete