Awwww Thanks, guys! Must admit I never thought it would happen (she's 38 now) but am absolutely over the moon
Congratulations Dave - wonderful news! Just on the topic that's off the topic - my granddad was a sturdy old Yorkshireman. Whenever I moaned about something my mum used to say "your grandfather had to get up at 4am every morning to do the milk round in his bare feet". Shortly before he died I said to him (as I was a bit older by then and actually became interested in my family member's history) "that must have been really hard doing that". To which he replied, in fits of laughter, "she doesn't still believe that does she!!?"
I reckon we should close this thread.........with people like this keep changing the subject. Anyone would think this thread is about Lumina's injury..........
Well this just proves how easy it is these days... the young milkmen have it so easy compared to my day when I was doing it with my Dad... all the customers collect the milk themselves now from the supermarket! * That is some cut on Lemina's leg, but for the record if the ball was leather and Noble was wearing brown boots......
Yep as far as I know......I know my mate still has his delivered every day as does most of his street I gather........
Indeed no going out in the snow in an electric milk float going about 20mph (downhill) with doors open and then wading through the snow with glass bottles and sliding back down the path with the empties for today's youth. Probably illegal for children to do it due to heath and safety.
We'd had 2 sons and were delighted when we had a daughter. An older work colleague told me that I shouldn't get too excited. Daughters just grow up to take the piss. It's true. Teenage granddaughters do much the same. But it's all good. EDIT: I do love this board! Topic? What topic?
Oh we didn't have a milk float, we had a pick-up truck... my Dad should have been called "Ernie" *putting your fingers into the top of empty milk bottles that had been "kindly" washed just before being placed on a doorstep the evening before a frosty, January morning, was the cruelest form of torture! The glass would stick to your skin.
I used to have to measure the milk into people's jugs as they brought them to the cart. The only risk to my health was the horse. He was always trying to bite me.