Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

Once upon a time a chicken crossed the road, why it crossed the road no one really knows. Or was It…..

To wish you a happy birthday of course!

To wish you a happy birthday of course!

Because there was a cyclist coming down his side & he didn’t want his mobile to get stolen!

To prove he wasn’t too much of a chicken to cross!

To get to the other side

“BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T COOK IT!!!!” – Gordon Ramsey

To see his flat mate!

To get away from the cockerel

What chicken? Which road? How why? When did? Where is the cross? I need answers…!

Crossy Road.

Crossy Road, the game.

Coz de chick wanna be big star of crossy road game show…?!

To get the highest score!

To be difficult and make us question why he crossed the road in first place!

Just whisper NANDO in her ear and she will cross the road. Whether she makes it to the other side or ends up on a Nando’s plate … is open to fate…

The chicken crossed the road to get to the other side to see if there was an egg!

More to the point, which came first? The chicken or the egg?!

The egg came first actually! The chicken carried it over the line in front of him on a spoon.

Why did the egg come first? A chicken had to lay it

If you believe the creation story, God made birds, animals etc. It does not say he made eggs so chicken definitely first. (Plus I also agree with Sara’s theory!)

I’m trying to picture how a non existent chicken is capable of laying an egg….!!

How did humans come about?? From an egg inside a human… The first human had to be created? That is why the chicken crossed the road – he was created to!

To find a soft place to lay an egg!

And because the grass is greener on the other side!

No, he found it WASN’T greener on the other side…

So he came back in a huff!

And forgot to bring the egg!

But then the chicken was indecisive so kept going back and forwards!

And that’s how evolution occurred…. An egg left on the other side evolved into another species

Of which the egg came first!

Oh My Cod!

Who're you gonna call??

Who you’re gonna call??

I went for one of my usual long walks along the River Thames one day, spotted this van and relatively posted this photo on Facebook, the puns that ensued was inevitable;

If you feel like a fish out of water, then the fish medic is the thing for you.

If you cannot afford an ambulance, just call Fish Medic – that’s economy!

It’s actually a clambulance!

I’d like a wormy, fungus infected, flea bitten salmon to jump right in there…

Plenty more fish in the sea.

How do they call for their own medic?

Via the Net.

You can Twitter a VAN? What does it say? “My oil is killing me?”

I was mullet whether it was a load of pollacks. I’ll stop carp-ing about and go back to my plaice.

No need to carp…. Admit it, you’re having a whale of a time by the Thames!

Don’t walk too far along the river or you’ll pull a mussel

it’s fintastic that they have their own doc.

For when you’re feeling green around the gills!!! 

Poor old sole.

I’m Whaling with laughter.

Oh for cod’s sake.

Something fishy is going on here.

Without the photo evidence, I would have found the whole thing a bit… fishy!

Carp diem 🙂

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

The Day The Door Handle Met My Hand.

What seems to be quite a famous incident that is still talked about also left such a vivid and shared memory by all those who were present on a particular fateful day in 1990, at a particular boarding school for the deaf. On this day, which seemed to start out like any other school day, we went about our usual routines unaware of what would happen next.

Having just attended assembly, we all started to make our way back to our designated form rooms. My form room happened to be the one beside the Home Economics room, which was directly across from the assembly hall so there was no urgency or hike back to gather our books for that morning’s timetable. Momentarily, a couple of us paused in the communal area outside the assembly room for a quick “Hello”.

A classmate of mine had said something to me there and then and in annoyance I ran after him. He proceeded into our form room intending to close the door behind him but as I ran after him, I stopped the door from being closed onto me and tried to continue running after him. However, I could not, and I was being held back. I did not sense anyone holding me back so I could not understand what or who was holding me back. My arm seemed to be held into place – glancing down at my arm and then my hand. It immediately made sense – I could see the door handle protruding from inside my hand. “So this is what was stopping me!” I thought…. I could not contain my anger so screamed, shouted and kicked at the blooming door – for hurting me like that. Mind you, I was only thirteen years old at the time.

A couple of sixth formers came to my rescue, shielding me, controlling and deflecting the building crowd of onlookers who were startled by my screams. The headmaster, Dr Tucker suddenly appeared alongside the school nurse and Mrs Fenney, the cookery teacher. There was this brick of a mobile phone too. I do not think I had ever seen one before then except in the films – Dr Tucker was calling the emergency services who very quickly appeared on scene.

A mask was offered to me, “Breathe hard until it clicks” I had no idea what I was going to breathe in or what I would experience! There was a click and I soon drifted off to “sleep”.

As I was being sat down by supporting hands, the groovy effects from the gas and air wearing off – I was “waking up” again, looking around me to pinpoint where I was. I was somewhat disappointed to find I was still in the very same spot and turned towards the school nurse saying, “I thought it was all a bad dream”. She responded albeit with tears in her eyes “So did I”. Dr Tucker started to look overcome with relief.

I then found my right hand resting on a pillow, which had been placed on my lap – the door handle had been unscrewed away from the door. It was decided that the handle should be left inside my hand in case of any serious blood loss or nerve damage. The door handle had gone through my skin between the middle and ring finger and still protruded outwards, where the handle bends. It felt quite uncomfortable but not painful, at all.

Being wheeled outside of the school, I spotted an ambulance – I had never been inside one so I anticipated a great ride! So I thought. It inched ever so slowly down the country lane heading towards the motorway. Much to my dismay because ambulances to my knowledge were always whizzing around and here I was, having what felt like a race with a snail. It had to be so. Because the aforementioned door handle impaled my hand and they did not want any further damage to be inflicted. Bless them.

I learned afterwards, that my classmates were watching the ambulance carting me away, from their Physics lesson in the science block, in what one described as a “rather sombre mood” – I had got out of doing physics – go me! In all seriousness, one person was feeling extremely upset and overcome with guilt.

Two hospitals later (because the first was only very small with no hand specialist), armed with my x-rays, it was finally deemed safe to remove the door handle, from my hand. I watched as a nurse treated my hand like a pincushion turning the area numb and ready to be handled (pardon the pun!) – holding my hand upright, the handle was slowly being edged out. It came out cleanly with such care and ease. Was blood going to spurt out? Was it going to be like in the films? Blood spurting everywhere… Alas no, except a cavity was left behind, tissue had been pushed down upon meeting the handle. A huge syringe filled with sterile water washed out the cavity, of which was kept above my line of view so I could not peer inside. This massive curved needle suddenly made an appearance and was guided through each edge of the open wound, gradually closing it together. I had a new addition to my collection of scars – sporting six stiches!

As my hand was being bandaged up and arm then put into a sling – there was a message for me.

“In future, never run after the boys – let them run after you!” said the ambulance staff that had looked after me earlier that day. This witty remark somehow made my day.

My writing hand thankfully, was not seriously damaged. With physio and time – it would heal. To this day, whenever it aches, this lets me know it is going to rain heavily within the next 24 hours. My very own barometer.

Mrs Fenney who had stayed with me throughout, I will never forget her for her kindness and patience. My mother joined us and we decided to buy a box of chocolates – not for us but for one particular person. Arriving back at school, everything became a haze. People wanted to know what happened, how I was…. Then much to my surprise, the person whom we had given the box of chocolates came to see me, they had saved the very last chocolate – just for me. He was being such a gentleman. I will always remember the apologetic look on his face yet he had nothing to be sorry for because it was purely an accident and besides, he got a box of chocolates whereas I got a door handle!

The one and only.

The one and only.

The door handle was presented to me, with masking tape on it indicating the depth of the meeting that took place. To this day, I still have it and I write this for posterity.

Now you will understand why, all the doors at the Mary Hare School were replaced into much safer (push open) ones that especially had no door handles!

A heartfelt “Thank you” to all those of you who supported me on that very day x

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

 

I Can Do BSL!

Here is a list of suggested captions for this (above) picture – enjoy!

I want it all …..

Nutella galore.

Noooooo nooooo my tree has gone!

I want nuts dis big!

it’s raining nuts, hallelujah!

PLEEEEEEEEASE Santa I been good

Free as a bird!

I have no nuts, I just had my vasectomy …. ok?!

Please let there be an avalanche of nuts

Praise the Lord, bring back my nuts…

Mama I love you, mama I care!

All I want for Christmas is you!

It’s Chrissssssstmas time!

Another British (RED) Squirrel at last…!

Photo by SJ

Photo by SJ

OMG!

A diva! Moi?

Romeo Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo?

Nuts! Whole hazel nuts!

Gimme, gimme, gimme !

Nuts glorious nuts! (Oliver ” food glorious food!)

I’m king of the WOOOORLD

Ok. I give up where’s the nuts

I can do BSL …

Whhhhhhhy?!

Did they break open…?!

Look at me, look at me…

Thank god it’s Friday!!

Let it GoooooooooOOO! I am one with the wind and SkyyyYYY!

squirrel2

 ~ SJ (Sara Jae)

I Am Tired Of…

Here I compile some of the frustrations the deaf community feels, sometimes on a daily basis. With injections of humour here and there 🙂

 I am tired of seeing a phone number on parking ticket machines because I cannot use the phone to pay.

 I am tired of talking lifts. Just wish they would shut up! Never mind the telephone in the lift with the number to ring in case of a breakdown or emergency! Duh!

 I am tired of being treated like an idiot by hearing people.

I am tired of “I’ll tell you later” but it never materialises!

I am tired of intercoms.

I am tired of being judged.

Judge not lest ye be judged.

Judge not lest ye be judged.

I am tired of the constant tinnitus in a whole world of its own.

 I am tired of being patronised.

I am tired of people having a go as bullies.

I am tired of being the odd one out! (to which SJ responded “We can all be odd together!”)

I am tired of hearing the words “It doesn’t matter!” Of course it matters.

I am tired of having to stand up for justice.

I am tired of Mondays!

I am tired of people being all talk and no action.

I am tired of not being taken seriously.

 I am tired of thinking people are talking to themselves (bonkers) when they are actually on hands free mobile!

bonkers

  I am tired of waiting for Channel 4 on demand getting their act together and providing subtitles for iPad!

I am tired of people manipulating others for their own gains.

I am tired of people saying “You are not missing anything!”

I am tired of being left out.

I am tired of a particular job requirement “Must be able to use the phone.”

I am tired of people moaning and being so negative.

I am tired of being a second class citizen.

I am tired of seeing other (deaf) people telling others what to do.

 I am tired of background music when actors are talking.

Cue background music: Doooooe – a deer a female deer, Raaaaay, a drop of golden suuuuun, Meeeeee – a name I call myseelf, Faaaaaar – a long long way to ruuuuuun, Seeeeew – a needle puling threeeeeeead, Laaaaaaaaa – a note to follow soooooo, Teeeeeeea – a drink with Jam and breeeeead!

 And that’ll bring us back to doe oh oh oh! Hence forth comes the musical tinnitus.

I am tired of not being able to understand what any train or plane announcements are saying – whether to panic yet or not!

keep-calm-and-eat-chocolate-1004

The answer to everything!

I am tired of people’s attitudes – always complaining – they need to consider how lucky they are to live in the UK with a decent life….

 I am tired of always being the last to understand or be informed. Tut tut.

 I am tired of seeing online forms asking for a telephone number but no space to put the full type-talk number in so I have to remove 18002 from my number then I get hearing people phoning!!!!!

I am tired of not being able to go to the movies anytime I wish.

I am tired of the radio whenever they broadcast shows concerning deafness or deaf people.

I am not tired of kicking ass!

I am tired of always having to strain my eyes more to concentrate on lip reading.

I am tired of feeling belittled.

 I am tired of segregation, exclusion and discrimination.

I am tired of people asking to speak to me on the phone when they have been told I cannot hear on the phone but still, they insist to speak to me on the phone?!

No need to shout!

No need to shout!

I am tired of seeing how quickly people are so willing to follow the flock.

 I am tired of people thinking they can pass on skills from someone who has just “attended” a (deaf awareness/sign language) course – it just does not work like that….

 I am tired of finding out things in the office then being told they’ve all known for ages and as usual I am the last to know!

I am tired of the lack of inclusion and inaccessibility in today’s day and age.

 I am tired of my mobile fire text alert (testing every week) going off at least half an hour before the real fire test goes off. 

I am tired of being abused by egocentric manic d/Deaf ( & hearing) people.

I am tired of being told to “Get on with it” when that is what we have been doing everyday?!

I am tired of not being able to switch off at night time!! (as a hearing dweller commented because the deaf are lucky in being able to turn off our hearing aids – ahhh silence is golden! Oh yes just rubbing it in….)

I am tired of the bloody answerphone and not understanding a word said….

I am tired full stop lol – 24/7 campaigning is a hard slog.

I am tired of deaf politics and political correctness gone mad and madder and even madder!

I am tired of having to stay strong for so long.

I am tired of all the injustice in this world – stop the planet, I want to get off! (“Nah you don’t – you’d miss all the fun!” as another dweller tried to persuade SJ)

Wait for me!!

Wait for meee!

Thank you to all who contributed – very much appreciated x

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

Our latest challenge which was introduced by the one Sarah Lawrence Finlayson, was to finger spell this town’s name – for some as quickly as possible and for others, just to take part. No easy feat but it was certainly fun trying! Several bloopers later we got there in the end. Phew!

Featuring Sambuca, SJ and Paul;

Featuring Saira – who is extremely fast!

Your turn to seize the day and please, do feel free to let us know how you fared with this challenge.

~ SJ (Sara Jae)

Disability Sensitivity Training Video.

This video which was initially shared by Action On Hearing Loss (AOHL) earlier, caught my eye and made me smile so sharing in the hope that it will also make your heart smile too.

 “The easiest way to show respect is to focus on the person, not their disability.”

~ SJ (Sara Jae)