Showing posts from April, 2010

Evidence that three is a great number, but not always enough for what you want to say

I liked Alexandra Crocodile's  idea of 'Me in 3s'. Three names I go by: 'Oy' (my kids) Miss (other people's kids) Me (my inner kid) Three jobs I've had: Clearing up vomit in pubs (as  a paid pub cleaner) Clearing up vomit in cots, beds and buckets (as an unpaid mother) Clearing up misunderstandings about iambic pentameter and apostrophes (as a paid-but-not-enough teacher) Three places I've lived: Spent one night on a bench in Victoria Station once Singapore In my dreams Three favourite drinks: Wine More wine Even more wine Tea (I know that's 4, but I thought balance was required) Three TV-shows I (WISHED I HAD TIME TO) watch: X-Factor (this is where I lose 20 followers at a stroke ... Friko, stay, stay, it's just an aberration) Those terrible 'look what this plonker did on the motorway' police chase programmes (ditto) Any costume drama where people cough in the first episode (hah! consumption!) and men appear fro

Reasons why it's probably best never to go on holiday in the first place

So, I had a week in Tenby. (NO, I hear you say!  You never DID!) Now I've had a week back at work. And I've been comparing the two. I will tell you some of the differences.  But only some, because if I think about this for too long, I will need to pour myself another measure of neat meths and crushed glass, and I've already had three. Mornings When I woke up to Tenby's dawn chorus, I thought, like Wordsworth would've, 'Oh, how the sound of that bird enriches my soul.'  Last Monday, first day back at work, I thought, 'I'd like to fry that blackbird in some very hot oil'. When in Tenby, I had refreshing sleep and woke up each morning convinced I was a real person who could move and breathe and stretch and get up.  Last Monday morning, when the alarm went off for work, I realised this was not true.  I was really a log. Lunches In Tenby, lunchtimes lasted from half an hour to five hours.  Sometimes they started at 10.30 or finished at

Three people who made Tenby the place to be last week

1. The bus driver who, when we innocently enquired how long it took to get to Haverfordwest from Tenby, sighed with a heavy slump of his shoulders, and intoned, 'Two long bloody hours, that's how long, and we go through [list of about twenty Welsh villages] and UP and DOWN and UP and DOWN before we get there and I've already done that trip ONCE today and it's only bloody half-past eleven.  I wouldn't advise it.  It's nearly killed me , and I'm used to it.' We took his advice and did a twenty-minute trip to the next seaside village.  I guess he's not going to win the 'Welsh Drivers' Ambassador for Bus Travel' prize this year. 2. The lady in the toy shop whom I found talking to a monkey puppet.  She'd read the instructions on the puppet and it obviously promised that if you talked to the monkey, some kind of microchip in its head would respond and it would reply to you.  This one wasn't working.  'Come on, you bugger!'

What I said in confession today

Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. Do not fret, my child.  Who have you sinned against? [*Thinks: I think you mean 'against whom have you sinned', Father, but we'll let that go for now.]  I've sinned against Tenby, Father, which is a nice little seaside town in Wales that never did me any harm.  I said before I went on holiday that it would be boring and that all there was there was an Old Wall and fish and chip shops and mackerel fishing which didn't even start until May and that I would rather be blogging in a Library anyway.  [Repressed sob.] You're distressed, child.  Here you are.  I'm passing you a tissue through the grille. Thank you, Father.  [Sniff. Blow. Sniff, sniff, blow.] My child.  Where did you learn to blow your nose in a quickstep rhythm? I suffered a lot of colds as a child but my mother still made me go to ballroom dancing classes even when I was ill. Oh, I see.  Now, child, are you saying that you have realised the err

Evidence that I don't deserve to be taken on holiday

Chaps, I'm going quiet for a week. (Who said, 'Oh, there IS a God!'? Come on, own up.) It's because I'm going on holiday with Husband to ............ MAURITIUS! ............ No, hang on, that wasn't the name ....... Bear with me ............ Oh yes, I've remembered!  It's ....... HAWAII! ........ Nope.  That's not right, that's not right.  Oh, how annoying.  Hold on, I'll get it in a minute. Ah!  I know!  I'm going to ......... NEW ZEALAND! ...... Oh, shoot.  No, that wasn't it either.  Let me just go and check the paperwork.  Stay there .......... Ah. Here we are. I knew the others sounded wrong. I'm really going to ................ Tenby, a little seaside town in South Wales. But it's OK!  It's not as bad as it sounds.  Because ......... where do you think I am staying in  Tenby, South Wales ? That's

Reasons (in sonnet form) why I am not a supermodel

A Sonnet in Honour of Chocolate - a poem for Easter How do I love you?   Let me count the ways ... I love you when you’re cast in bunny shape or when a simple slab from Sainsburays, or from the fridge, or melted, or in cake. I love a Minstrel cool upon my palm. I love a Cadburys button on my tongue. I find it hard to stop - you have such charm Before I know it, I've had twenty-one.  I love you whether white or Swiss or Belgian. I want you to myself. I do not share. I'll eat you 'till my little belly's bulgin' And I can barely get up from my chair.  Oh, chocolate!   I'll love you 'till I die,  (though when I do, you'll be the reason why).  

Eight things I learned today while being out in rain I was not prepared for

1. There is something that sheep have in their fleeces which is not present in the kind of fleeces with sleeves and front zips which humans can buy.  This is why, in the rain, sheep still look like sheep, but humans who are wearing fleeces because they didn't think it would rain look like something dragged from a stagnant pool. 2. Everyone else in the whole wide world takes note of weather forecasts and dresses properly for rain with voluminous raincoats, wide hats and umbrellas the size of a small continent.  This makes them cheerful.  It also leaves them carefree, with plenty of time to look at unprepared people and laugh. 3. It only takes one drip of freezing rain to course down the back of your neck, under your collar and down your back, to make you feel very unhappy indeed. 4.When you are watching nature programmes on TV and there are rain spots on the cameraman's screen, blurring the picture, this looks quite pretty and endearing and adds a sense of realis