"I'll admit I may have seen better days, but I'm still not to be had for the price of a cocktail, "(Margo Channing)
A Million Years Ago
I love Adele.
This 60s sounding track from her album 25 is terribly sad
It sounds like it comes from a musical, with the second female lead
singing it before her tragic death in act three.
£53.60 and " It'll make a good tv series"
It's been a day for getting the cottage into shape....and I have just put in an eight hour day doing it.
All the Christmas shite has been cleared away, the kitchen and living room cleaned, shopping done, dogs walked ( twice), windows cleaned, rubbish bagged, fridge cleared of debris, floors bleached, lunch prepared and even Fanny has been hoovered out and polished after which I knocked together an impressive sherry trifle !
If I was on mimimum wage I would have earned £53.60.
Anyhow enough about me.
The village seemed extra busy this morning as the weather has been bright and sunny. Storm Frank is on the way and I think everyone has been making the most of everything being dry for a change. When I was far up high street I spied a villager I shall call Emlyn. Now Emlyn is very Welsh , has a chirpy mongrel dog and likes gardening. That is all I know about him. We chat about this and that when we bump into each other, and converse for just enough time for Winnie to get a good arse sniff in.
It's been like this for a few years
Today Emlyn mentioned last night's blog, which surprised me as I never knew that he actually read it.
Interestingly, he asked if I wrote about everyone in the village.
I told him the truth, that I was careful to pick and choose what and who I wrote about and that most people were given nicknames to ensure their anonymity even though, many locals would work who I was talking about in an instant.
" Your language can be a bit fruity at times" Emlyn noted " but the blog would make a good tv series"
" who would play me" I asked, ever the " me me " show girl! and Emlyn thought for a moment before saying
" That fella from " Downton Abbey the servant chappie"
" what the footmanThomas ?" I said hopefully
" Nooooo" Emlyn said without a hint of irony " Carson the butler"
But he had sense enough to add " don't use my real name if you quote me on that comment"
Everyone's a critic........
Perhaps I need botox
All the Christmas shite has been cleared away, the kitchen and living room cleaned, shopping done, dogs walked ( twice), windows cleaned, rubbish bagged, fridge cleared of debris, floors bleached, lunch prepared and even Fanny has been hoovered out and polished after which I knocked together an impressive sherry trifle !
If I was on mimimum wage I would have earned £53.60.
Anyhow enough about me.
The village seemed extra busy this morning as the weather has been bright and sunny. Storm Frank is on the way and I think everyone has been making the most of everything being dry for a change. When I was far up high street I spied a villager I shall call Emlyn. Now Emlyn is very Welsh , has a chirpy mongrel dog and likes gardening. That is all I know about him. We chat about this and that when we bump into each other, and converse for just enough time for Winnie to get a good arse sniff in.
It's been like this for a few years
Today Emlyn mentioned last night's blog, which surprised me as I never knew that he actually read it.
Interestingly, he asked if I wrote about everyone in the village.
I told him the truth, that I was careful to pick and choose what and who I wrote about and that most people were given nicknames to ensure their anonymity even though, many locals would work who I was talking about in an instant.
" Your language can be a bit fruity at times" Emlyn noted " but the blog would make a good tv series"
" who would play me" I asked, ever the " me me " show girl! and Emlyn thought for a moment before saying
" That fella from " Downton Abbey the servant chappie"
" what the footmanThomas ?" I said hopefully
" Nooooo" Emlyn said without a hint of irony " Carson the butler"
But he had sense enough to add " don't use my real name if you quote me on that comment"
Everyone's a critic........
Perhaps I need botox
Bloody Carson indeed!
" Pigs In Blankets"
A new child in the house always provokes a change amongst the other children.
This usually can be managed with some judicial acts of " being spoilt" .......for every baby needs to feel that they are your world's centre.
Boxing Day evening was a case in point. The Prof was asleep in his arm chair and the terriers were all heaped on the sofa snoring quietly. Only Winnie and I were awake.
I was curled up in the only dog free sofa area and Winnie was sitting quietly in front of the log burner, watching the fire with sombre eyes.
Mary has been running Winnie ragged over Christmas and from time to time the old girl has been looking somewhat fraught what with sharp puppy teeth pulling fat folds of face at every turn and even though she has been gentle with the puppy like a hippo who has taken ballet lessons , I thought it was time for a treat.
I waved silently at Winnie and pointed to the kitchen, after making a sort of pantomime for her to be quiet ( a gesture that I was sure she understood).We tip toed out of the living room together and she watched me carefully as I rooted in the fridge for the remains of the turkey and pulled out the remaining pigs in blankets which surrounded it.
Now, I am not sure if " pigs in blankets" are purely a British phenomenon , but if they are ( and for the benefit of overseas visitors) all I shall say that they are delicious miniature chipolata sausages which have been wrapped in bacon-( bloody lovely they are too)
Anyhow I grabbed five " pigs" and tipped the lot into Winnie's gin trap mouth and moments later we were sat back in the quiet living room. She in front of the fire licking the turkey fat from her lips and me cramped on the couch.
No one in the cottage were any the wiser.
After a few minutes of lip smacking , Winnie heaved herself up again and walked up to me slowly.
She placed two saucer sized paws on the couch cushion , stood up and planted a long wet sausage smelling kiss onto my face.
She knew she was back on top in the favourite baby tables.
Happy Days
Not bad for 3 hours sleep.
I've done the table.
The Prof is cooking.....and
I can feel a slight stress in the air!
Albert is dying to walk on the white tablecloth,
William is building up for a mega back up dump against the Christmas decs,
Winnie is looking for the slippers of sex
And George is rolling his tired old eyes at it all from the safety of the arm chair
Happy Christmas from Going Gently
One and all. X
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)