Now just the thoughts of me and not my dog until I can persuade Husband we should get another.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
There's a little black cloud
Saturday, September 29, 2007
We need a 6-year-old
He set it to record the wrong channel.
The game was being repeated in the early hours of this morning. He set it up again.
He got the date wrong.
That's why we need a 6-year-old.
Now it's about time for the crucial Wales game against Fiji to begin. Everything crossed. I'd better go and get my Welsh shirt on.
Zorba dances on
I've searched everywhere (except behind the computer - I wonder if it's slipped down the back).
I gave up, went to the Tesco download site and searched again. I paid my 89p and downloaded it, easy as pie. It went straight to music folder, no problem.
Then I tried to drag it into Movie-maker. Ha! "This move is illegal: this product is protected by digital media rights." What? You mean, even though I've paid my money I can't use it? You ratbags!
So this morning I visited another site, found the track I wanted, and checked carefully to see if it was also protected. From what i could read it wasn't. I paid my 79p this time, downloaded and tried again. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah! "This move is illegal ..."
For goodness sake, I have tried my hardest to be honest; I shall have to resort to asking Younger Son to download it illegally for me.
Family gathering
At some point during the evening, my uncle mentioned that he wasn't fond of whisky - his preferred drink is champagne. I said, in that case, he couldn't really be a member of the family - his mother, my gran, was partial to a wee dram of the hard stuff, as were most of her family. He retorted that I must be even more of an outcast as I don't drink at all. I agreed that I often wonder if I could be a changeling as i certainly don't have the family talking gene.
It was bedlam in the restaurant last night, full as it was of my relatives (all older than me). They were doing that everyone talking, no-one listening thing, that they all enjoy so much.
I really don't know what happened to me.
Can you read this?
I get the sidebar and then it stops. Sometimes it will appear after a few minutes but sometimes it won't. And there doesn't seem to be any logic in its decision.
Saturday Photohunt - Original
Two years - and it don't seem a day too long
xx
Is there anybody there?
I came in through the kitchen door and things had been disturbed in there. Younger Son was in work - and had left before me this morning - and Husband was in Hook. Did I panic?
I did not. I am woman; I am empowered.
I went into the hall and shouted out, 'Okay, burglars, I'm going to close my eyes and count to 10. In that time I expect you to leave. If you do, we will say no more about it.'
I went back into the kitchen, closed my eyes and waited. No sound. They must have already gone. And all that seems to be missing are a few plastic carrier bags. Hm, interesting.
(It wasn't really that brave of me: the alarm was still on in the hall and hadn't been set off so I didn't really think there were any burglars in the house.) (Although I have been known to do the same thing under different conditions.)
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Best seller - almost but not nearly
Anyway, he brought me a letter. A royalty statement from Hodder. It tells me that my book, A Cop for Christ, has sold 10,738 copies since it was published a few years ago. (Actually quite a few years ago.) I am impressed and rather pleased with that. I shall have to remember it when I next receive a rejection.
I've come back from holiday as I always do, full of enthusiasm and plans for my writing. One of my plans is to re-write my novel. I still like the characters and the general idea of the story but have come up with a different way of telling it. I like the way it's done now but quite clearly the agents don't. Lots of other ideas as well. All that it needs now is for me to put them into action.
Oh, I've just discovered dried egg yolk on my chin! I am turning into an old dear.
P.S. Amazon lists the author as Mike Di Sanza, the name on the front. My only credit is in small writing on the back because the publishers felt it would sell better that way. But I did write every word - except the foreword.
Download
1. I have trendy new glasses! They're very different from my old ones and rather heavy on my nose, but I expect I will get used to them. They're better than my old ones for three reasons: I can see with them; they have two arms; they're not held on my nose by bits of Blu-tack (Alun, in work, got fed up of me grumbling each time they fell off and he insisted on sticking the Blu-tack on).
2. It's a puzzlement (as the King of Siam said). I have spent most of my life being bemused by it. As a result I have two large furrows just above my nose, between my eyes. They make me look grumpy even though I'm not. But now I've found an answer: polyfilla for faces! It's made by L'Oreal - who I'm fairly sure have dubious ethics but my vanity is greater than my ethical consumer concerns - and I'll let you know if it works ...
3. Estate agents in Crete have made honesty into an art form. In their windows they have advertisements for various 'Old Ruins'. They were too. I tried to take a photo but it didn't come out unlike this one. It seems they have 'Pound' Shops (and Lidl) everywhere these days.
Yiasou!
Ah, yes, and those cats. The hotel had a resident family of mum, dad (a ginger tom who incidentally had the largest testicles I have ever seen on a cat), and two young kitties. Here mum does what mums the world over do: gives her offspring a quick lick and brush-up as she's passing.
Lots more photos to come in the slide-show I'm preparing. I've downloaded Zorba's Dance to accompany the piccies but do you think I can work out where the puta has downloaded it to?
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
In Crete now
P.S. To any burglars reading this: the house isn't empty. Younger Son is there and he might be a reader but he's a big lad.
My grammatical revelation
I consider myself to be reasonably proficient in my grammar and punctuation but I have a few blind spots. One of them is my inability to choose the correct form of the verb to go with collective nouns such as team or church (when it's used in the early Christian way, meaning the people who followed Jesus).
So the revelation/realisation that church is a singular noun - and therefore simple to deal with - is more blinding than it might appear to you.
e.g. The church is meeting to pray on Sunday.
I felt a great weight lifted off my shoulders.
Until I consulted Fowler's English Usage. It says, 'In BrE it is in order to use either a plural verb or a singular verb after most collective nouns ...'
My Good English Guide says the same thing.
So that's my revelation floored. And it's back to what sounds right. The experts do offer some more helpful advice.
It can depend on whether you're thinking of the collective noun as a unit or as individuals within a unit. And if the items that make up the collective noun are inanimate, then the verb is always singular.
It does go on to say that the important thing is to make sure any attendant pronouns follow suit.
e.g. The church is meeting to pray to its God on Sunday OR The church are meeting to pray to their God on Sunday.
So that's clear then. I can go on holiday knowing I'm one step closer to grammatical perfection.
I am remarkably well-organised for this holiday as you can see by the fact that I'm blogging minutes before we leave. I am rather like the Queen in this respect - although I haven't won two bars of soap in a raffle. My holidays are organised for me. Husband is a gem.
Air travel
Now I know you're all accustomed travellers and think nothing of hopping on and off planes but, for a day or so before we fly, my mind is kept occupied listing a number of facts:
thousands of planes fly everyday;
everyone - but everyone - uses planes as naturally as I use my toothbrush;
statistically planes are very safe;
there are planes flying to ** insert place name, from all over the world everyday;
it's going to be ALL RIGHT.
Once I'm on the plane I'm not too bad. I don't listen for strange noises all the time. And I watch the stewards: if they look happy, I'm happy.
And I'm probably the only person in the world who looks forward to aeroplane food. It relieves the monotony and it's fun, unwrapping all those little packages. I get my thrills where I can.
xx
Holly and the Himalayan Balsam
Holly has been down to stay. Only for one night but it gave me the chance to go walkies. I got home from work at lunchtime and Daughter and Son-in-law (who were also down) were out visiting friends. I didn't know if they'd walked Holly but I thought I should take her out, just in case. So we went over the tip, through the woods and back by the river.
It was a beautiful day and I spent most of the walk telling Holly stories about Harvey and how it was one of his favourite walks and how he loved the water too. Not that she was really listening; she just wanted to chase sticks.
I think Jesus must love Holly a lot. The best word to describe my stick-throwing would be erratic. Let's face it, I throw like a girly, and where it will go, nobody knows. But not one stick landed on Holly's head in spite of several coming within an ear's breadth, convincing me that someone was keeping an eye out for her.
Both Husband and I have been finding it more difficult of late. I think initially we felt relief for Harvey's sake - on the final morning he was very distressed - and, I suppose, a sort of relief for us. I often joked about checking that he was still breathing but I think we all were living with a sense of dread.
It's good that we're going on holiday tomorrow. Have I mentioned that we're going to start looking for a puppy when we get back? And I've offered to dogsit a friend's dog in October too. But little extras like walking Holly are a big bonus!
xx
I'm a star!
Well, isn't that lovely?
I have to nominate five bloggers to pass this on to but I'll need to think about it, so I'll do it when I get back from my hols.
Monday, September 17, 2007
To read or not to read
Thank you again, Mr Dahl, Ms Rowling et al. And thanks to the local library that fed my own habit as child.
Postscript - but of no relevance to the topic. When I read over what I'd written I saw that I'd put 'fed up' when I meant to say 'fed my'. Isn't it peculiar how the brain works? Mine at least.
xx
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Wales for the cup?
I was talking to a fellow Welsh rugby fan this morning. We agreed that Wales didn't really do anything very wrong in the game against Australia; it was also the best team that Wales has. The fact was that we just weren't good enough.
Now Welsh supporters never say that. Before any game our blind optimism takes control; after we always have an excuse. It's almost impossible to dowse the flame of hope, even though it's barely a flickering ember. Even if we lose, we're almost immediately upbeat about the next game.
Husband is more realistic. He has never been overly hopeful for England's chances in this World Cup. Me, I could see Wales winning it. If everyone were fit, if things went our way, if we just had that little bit of luck, if each player played to his potential, we could do it. We could beat even the All Blacks. On the right day.
Not this year.
(But talk to me next week, and there might still be a chance ...)
A bloggy mystery
Is it just me? What language is Blogger using to address you?
xx
Wales 20 - 32 Australia
But to show what a good sport I am, here's Australia's George Gregan, the game's most-capped player with, I think, 136 caps. That's fairly amazing in a game like rugby.
I've been spending some time browsing the net for photos of rugby players. (I had to do something to cheer myself up.) I've stored a few good ones - a couple of really good ones - but I'll keep searching. Never say I'm not a martyr to the cause.
xx
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Finally! ...
The first - as far as I can recall - time that being over 50 has been of benefit. Getting something free!
Admittedly I have had free mammograms since being 50 but, while they're undoubtedly beneficial, I refuse to think of them as a benefit.
Of course the downside is that the only reason these things are free is that over 50s are more likely to have problems. But my eyes at least are very healthy. I have to have new glasses but I was expecting that, and not only because my current ones are missing an arm. I've noticed their increasing ineffectiveness. I've had them a good few years: they must be getting worn out.
xx
Thursday, September 13, 2007
In memory of Dahl
Seeing Google's tribute, I thought I'd like to remember him too. Unfortunately all my children's books are in the attic - awaiting grandchildren - so I looked in the Oxford Dictionary of Modern Quotations. Not a thing! Not a single mention. They had Paul Daniels, for goodness sake, but no Dahl! But I managed to find these on the net.
"The matter with human beans is that they is absolutely refusing to believe in anything unless they is actually seeing it right in front of their own schnozzles." (The BFG)
"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." (Roald Dahl)
xx
Time's up
And suddenly I thought, 'Okay, the joke's over now; you can come back, Harvey.'
I just wanted him back.
xx
I don't know if I should tell you this
You see, I intended to do some cleaning and then shower. then I thought I'd shower before I went to the theatre in the evening. But then I lost my oomph and didn't go to the theatre so I thought I'd have a bath later. Then I got ready for bed and I realised ...
It's a good job I have to go out sometimes otherwise I would be living quite happily in my own little state of grime.
I'm going to have a shower now.
OLE!
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
The lady of the house is out
It'll be simpler.
A man just offered to do some tree lopping. Now we have lots of trees that need lopping, quite serious lopping in some cases. Husband wishes he had been a lumberjack and enjoys doing it but we have more trees than he has spare time, and one particular bit, just next to where we sit, is not only overgrown and leaning towards the house, but is brown and ugly at the bottom as well. My man gave me a very good price (he assured me it was) to cut them down completely and remove the rubbish. As long as I had it done today.
I told him I'd ask Husband, and I did try but his mobile went straight to voicemail. I don't think my man believed me but I would have liked him to cut down the trees.
We had a Health & Safety training day in work on Monday. The trainer asked us what hazards we had at home; I said, 'my husband.'
Saying 'I know what I'm doing,' he props his ladder up against a thick conifer hedge, and climbs up it, 10' or more, chain saw in hand.
I would have been very pleased for someone else to risk life and limb but dare not make the decision without consulting Husband. It is 'his' garden.
And my man was Irish. So if he'd brought two mates with him, I'd have been able to tell people we'd had the tree fellers in. (The old ones are the best.)
A hard night's day
Before Zac's there was a prison planning meeting so I had to rush afterwards - and Betty didn't have any petrol.
The only petrol station selling 'red' petrol is the other side of town so that means calling in to the one en route, filling up with 'green' petrol and using the additive. So far so good.
I reach into Betty, pull out the bottle of additive and ... it's empty. Try again, this time coming up with the full bottle. (Why do I keep an empty bottle in the car?) Peer at instructions. Why do they have to be so small? Rummage in handbag for glasses case. Take out glasses and put on. A car has pulled up behind me and is waiting. It's getting dark. Even with glasses have to screw up eyes to decipher. Finally decide how much I need. Battle to take off lid. It's childproof. Have to put it on the floor before I can win battle. Study measurements on bottle. Hold it this way, then that. Can hear man in car behind drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
Hold bottle up to light. For goodness sake, have manufacturers no idea about the sort of people who drive old cars that need additive? They tend to be fairly decrepit themselves. Pour in amount. Hope it is right.
Take off glasses, push back in case in bag. Lock petrol cap. Key gets stuck. Fear that driver waiting is going to come and do it for me soon. Tell myself I shouldn't be pressurised. Ignore myself.
Additive has spilled over my hands but don't want to take even longer by going to wash them so just pay and drive off as speedily as possible.
Get to Zac's. They've started bible study. I open bible, get out glasses. Discover glasses are armless. Sit back and breathe deeply.
This morning take photo of self in lopsided glasses. Blinded by flash. Try to download photo; batteries on camera have gone. Replace with a variety of others. All flat.
Could be the longest day.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
H-E-D-G-E
I was directed to this video by Winston over at Nobody Asked. Enjoy.
Whoops, done it again
The myth of self-esteem
He's writing, or has finished writing, a book called The Myth of Self-esteem. He said he's been working on it for years and wants to get it out soon as he fears there could soon be a band-wagon following the publication of some research.
This research showed that children upon whom praise was heaped didn't try as hard, or push themselves as much, as children who were less generously praised but encouraged to do better.
Now I think about it more that seems perfectly reasonable. A lot of us, by nature, are fairly lazy; if you can get by without much effort, why bother to do more than is necessary? But a little encouragemnet also works wonders.
I don't know what John Smith means by the myth of self-esteem but I'm sure he can't mean that good self-esteem is bad. He has spent his life working with bikers and outcasts of society; that in itself shows the value he places on them.
Jesus' ministry was all about showing people they mattered. Zaccheus, after whom Zac's place is named, climbed up a tree to watch Jesus pass by. Jesus spotted him and invited himself to tea with Zac. Jesus also invited himself to tea with Matthew, the despised and crooked tax-collector. I bet they felt good about themselves afterwards.
Jesus sums up the commandments saying, 'Love God and love others as you love yourself.' If we don't love ourselves, the world is going to be pretty screwed.
Okay, I should probably wait for John Smith's book to come out before I start disagreeing with him. I just wanted to get this out of my system. I can go and do some cleaning now.
xx
Bunnies
As a gesture to her sensibilities here's a bunny-wabbit. You can't see very well in the photo, but she's absolutely gorgeous. i bought her as a present for Husband's great-niece but on reflection - and realising that she will be 10 - I wonder if she will consider a hand-puppet too childish. I might have to keep bunny myself.
While on the subject of nude rugby players, after the talky bit at Zac's, a friend and I were sitting at the coffee bar, when the conversation turned to girly mags. The President of the UK God's Squad was saying that he'd 'confiscated' some magazines belonging to a biker who turned up at one of their Bible studies (in a place similar to Zac's) explaining that they were degrading to women and demonstrated none of the loving attributes that reflect Christ's teachings.
I thought about my nude rugby players, decided it was altogether different ... and kept quiet.
Monday, September 10, 2007
That well-known musical combo ...
Second only to Osama
Saturday, September 08, 2007
The world cup begins
France is one of the favourites, so the result - a win for Argentina - shook everyone, especially Monsieur Laporte the Spock-like French coach. I wouldn't have liked to been on the receiving end of his after-match talk.
More games like last night's will make this a fantastic tournament.
There are teams in the competition that expect to do well: New Zealand, Australia, S. Africa and France. Then there are teams like England, reigning champions, Ireland and Argentina that have a good chance. At the other end we have Namibia and the US who are only there to make up the numbers. Somewhere in between comes Wales.
The Welsh have a great rugby history, but that's what it is: history. Although the Welsh nation hasn't accepted it yet and still hopes and believes in the team. Which is both depressing and heartening.
We SHOULD do well but we probably won't.
Having said that I'm still cheering us on, hoping that we'll get to beat England in the quarter-finals at the very least. Yes, I know! It's not much of a hope but without hope, why go on?
If Wales can't will, I hope it will be the All Blacks because they play exciting rugby.
Meanwhile, as I could get a bit boring blogging about rugby for the next month, I'm planning on including photies for the girls. First up, the cover of a book that has proved very popular with gay men in America. According to the Amazon synopsis, this book 'will appeal to anyone fascinated by the male form'. Husband tells me this is Remy Martin. What is it about rugby players? We have Austin Healey named after a car and now this man named after a brandy.
xx
Saturday Photohunt - Music
Thursday, September 06, 2007
I have a secret phobia
So, during the summer, I've been going to the gym. While there I use the treadmill. You'll have seen people on the treadmill (or on the treadmill on television) jogging away like mad, the perspiration dripping from their brows, their breaths coming in short pants. Now picture this: me walking - quickly admittedly - but barely raising a glow let alone sweat, and - and this is the crunch - clinging onto the hand-bars for dear life.
I have this fear you see, doctor, that if I let go, I'll lose concentration and next thing I'll go shooting off the end. You see it's a very logical fear: all my fears are.
{Siadwel, a Welsh comedian tells of his auntie and her fear of the ground. "She says, 'It's not the jumping off a skyscraper that will kill you; it's the ground.'"}
And I'm scared to try running in case the same thing happens and I won't be able to reach the controls and slow down and the machine will go faster and faster and ... I'll sssccchhhhhwump - be off the end.
Last night I very bravely let go for a few minutes. Even in that time I was drifting all over the place. Imagine if I got carried away. And if I was wearing my headphones and watching, say, rugby, at the time, I could be strangled by my leads!
I thought talking about it might help, but it's just made me think of more dangers.
Assuming there would be lots of people who feel the same, I googled for a cartoon of someone flying off the end of a treadmill: there weren't any.
Must just be me then.
Got any spare change, guv'nor?
Apparently Amy Winehouse's family has been asking the public not to buy her CDs so as not to fund her habit. (It's like those people who say you shouldn't give money to beggars as they'll only spend it on drink.)
Elder Son decided that he would go to HMV, take a Winehouse CD to the counter and ask if he can pay for it with luncheon vouchers. She looks as if she could do with a good meal inside her.
I think he could be onto something. It's a win win situation.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Well, it amused me
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
In the beginning ...
On the next day they created MySpace, and everyone said, 'This is the future,' and I became part of the future. But I continued to blog.
On the next day they created Facebook, and everyone said, 'Be my friend,' and I was their friend. But I continued to blog.
On the next day, they created Twitter, and everyone twittered - and I said, 'Enough.' And I continued to blog.
Which is just a silly way of saying, 'AAaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! I can't keep up!'
Slug ahoy!
Then the other night Elder Son and Daughter-in-law, who were staying, were getting ready for bed and about to turn off the kitchen light when they spotted a head slipping in under the back door.
Knowing my fondness for quirky photos to place on my blog, Elder Son rushed to get my camera and this is what he caught. Our late night visitor hasn't stopped calling at all. Maybe he just pops in occasionally to see if his buddy's returned yet.
Wot no MOT?
I got ready and was just about to leave when Husband says, 'You'd better pump up the tyres first.'
I grind my teeth and head off to the petrol station. I have never driven YS's car before and when I stop I can't work out how to get the key out of the ignition. I leave the driver door open - in case it locks me out - while I pump up the tyres. I do three but the fourth will only let air out not in. I give up and drive, with one slightly deflated tyre, across town in a rush to get to the garage in time for the appointment.
As I drive I notice a little orange light on the dashboard. I don't know what it means but I am fairly sure it is not a good sign. Although not as bad as a red light.
YS is already in my bad books. He drank all the milk meaning I had to go out BEFORE breakfast to buy some in order to have my cereal. He is 22; he should know by now that making me wait for my breakfast is not likely to get me on his side.
His car fails but not for either the tyre or the orange light. The mechanic tells me what the problem is but he is underneath the car while he is talking. I'm not sure but I think it is something to do with the sea.
in between garage visiting I have been writing about cocktail party themes. Now I can't decide whether to opt for the sophisticated black tie affair or the gaudy fake-palm-tree beach do. Both have their good points.
Monday, September 03, 2007
So long and thanks for all the ... love
P.S. The title of the post is from a Douglas Adams book called So long and thanks for all the fish.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
What Women Want
What? Chocolate AND Johnny Depp?!
Be still my beating heart.