That nice Wendy, blaming Scarlet, has awarded me another copy of the award I got the other day off Savannah. Which mean that I have a Reality Award and bar, which is dead good and demonstrates once and for all that I'm not away with the fairies. Thank you.
And now for the four questions. The good thing is that I'm now at an age where an already-tenuous grasp of reality combined with a failing memory will probably come up with entirely different answers...
1. If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?
I'd like the people I care about not to have to worry about health or money or anything.
2. If you could repeat any age which would it be?
I'd be tempted to go back to my early twenties and give myself a massive kick up the arse. Having said that, I suspect I'm a better person now for having been such a prat then.
3. What really scares you?
Life.
4. If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be?
A man in a shed on a warm summer's evening painting a rocking chair for the woman who's just given him a cup of tea.
I am now moved to pass the meme on to somebody who's blog has touched me lately. If you're reading this you're eligible.
As part of the marketing of the Helminthdale Brand they've put together a video bid for a portion of the thirty shillings available from A Well Known Retail Genius (not Mrs. Pouncer) to revitalise the retail environment of the town.
Here are a few stills from the video.
I was going to write a desperately serious post about all them things that are assailing us in the news.
A consoling thought instead...
Some more post titles from the "Pending" file...
There is a view in this household that Joan Jett should be commissioned to rehabilitate the whole of Gary Glitter's back catalogue, this giving us back the excuse for a lot of road journey singalongs.
You'd have thought I'd know better after the episode with the quilt, but oh no…
Much to my — and the blue tits' — dismay, I've temporarily put a clothes line up in the garden so that I can dry a bed cover which has been drip-draining into the bath for the past 20 hours after I had a fit of bank holiday domesticity.
For those of you struggling for pub quiz questions, it turns out that a quilted blanket can hold eighty litres of bathwater.
A bad couple of weeks for catching up with things. Mostly job-related stuff: both I and the small object of desire and moon of my delight have been negotiating written submissions for our jobs (I'm sorted for now; she, alas, is still on tenterhooks). Add to that a few calendar commitments and Things That Cannot Be Avoided and I'm a bit time-poor and preoccupied at the moment.
Luckily, all my news so far is, touch wood, good. I hope I find you all in fine fettle.
Your Blog Should Be Yellow |
 You're a cheerful, upbeat blogger who tends to make everyone laugh. You are a great storyteller, and the first to post the latest funny link. You're also friendly and welcoming to everyone who comments on your blog. |
| You Are Oscar the Grouch |
 Grumpy and grouchy, you aren't just pessimistic. You revel in your pessimism. You are usually feeling: Unhappy. Unless it's rainy outside, and even then you know the foul weather won't last. You are famous for: Being mean yet lovable. And you hate the lovable part. How you life your life: As a slob. But it's not repelling as many people as you'd like! |
Another utterly awful working week and it's only Monday.
The usual commuter travails got me into work (there's no point in going into these: if you do public transport you'll know all about them from your own experience; if you don't you wouldn't believe me). A narrative elsewhere hints at some of the awfulnesses of the workplace. Seriously dehydrated I do the commute back home, the delays making it all the worse (no namby-pamby coffee shop facilities at Helminthdale Central).
I picked up a drink as I crossed Manchester city centre. Has it occurred to you just how difficult it is to find any cold drink on sale that doesn't include Aspartame? I can't stand the taste of Aspartame. In the end I gave up and picked up a bottle of Oasis, which boasted that it's full of natural juices. Yeeurgh! What's the point of putting sugar and Aspartame in a drink?
I got home, only to find that seeing as it's the first day in ten without rain the bloke two doors down had decided to set fire of a lot of damp shrubbery in his garden. And there, waiting on the doormat, was a letter from the NHS asking if I fancied putting myself in for vivisection in the name of science.
I gave up hard drink for this.
Quite some time ago an Organisational Psychologist, who was doing a team-building programme for a council I worked for, told me that he reckoned I was the most optimistic person he'd ever met in his life. Naturally, I queried this.
"If I had your world view I wouldn't be able to get up in the morning."
I've decided to be more proactive in my optimism, thanks to the 'Pearls Before Swine' strip.
Prudence, Caution, Deliberation.
The Hermit points to all things hidden, such as knowledge and inspiration,hidden enemies. The illumination is from within, and retirement from participation in current events.
The Hermit is a card of introspection, analysis and, well, virginity. You do not desire to socialize; the card indicates, instead, a desire for peace and solitude. You prefer to take the time to think, organize, ruminate, take stock. There may be feelings of frustration and discontent but these feelings eventually lead to enlightenment, illumination, clarity.
The Hermit represents a wise, inspirational person, friend, teacher, therapist. This a person who can shine a light on things that were previously mysterious and confusing.
I must have been doing the cat's shoelaces
when this lot came a-calling.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
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