I realise with crystal clear clarity that blogging is the equivalent of a chat at the water cooler. A pleasant diversion. A cup of tea. A coffee and slice of Sacher Torte. An espresso. Cucumber sandwiches at the Ritz. Nativity play at your child’s school. A magnum of champagne on some arbitrary excuse of an occasion. Anything which might one get away from business in hand.
This minute I am in despair. I have so much to do, so little time to do it in, my head is spinning, I feel sorry for myself, I don’t know where to start, I wish I were Mary Poppins, Doris Day and my brother’s wife rolled into one. Luckily neither of my sisters lives round the corner otherwise I’d really be in the dog house. One of you, I think it was gaelikaa, said the other day something about paralysis. Make that brain dead in my case. I fear for myself. Sanity comes at a price. Also, piece of advice: When you nurse some virus do not, whilst lounging semi-comatose on the sofa, succumb to the lure of daytime television: I hate TV adverts. Always have. They feed paranoia, say, “washing whiter than white” (and if any of their lab technicians can explain that one to me I shall forthwith purchase the product till my dying day, despite white not featuring heavily in this household); also I learn that discovering the lowest quote for home insurance is where the way to happiness lies. Then, to top it all, up pops what’s her name proclaiming: “…because you are worth it”. Hein?
Anyway, watercooler. Jean, the cheerful Monk in my life, asked me what took me to the life and soul of the party: The consortium (LBC). It’s a rather dull story actually. I wish I could spice it up a little but I can’t. Once upon a time, say 12/18 months ago, a friend of mine knowing how very fond I am of the Irish (and anyone else for that matter) gave me a link. Via this link and the comment box I happened onto a fellow commentator, good old Grannymar herself, who left me a few favourable remarks. So I checked out HER blog, clicked – as one does – on her links and hey presto my life is in turmoil and has taken me to India and parts of the States I didn’t know existed. Don’t say I don’t lead an exciting life.
Thus friendships are formed. It all went swimmingly until GM ran out of puff. I am still trying to make amends but maybe humoUr is currently in short supply at GM’s premises. She might thaw out once snowdrops emerge; usually February down here at the south coast, maybe March her area in time for her birthday. Ever the optimist, I hope she’ll come round to see the funny side of it all, not least because I need her advice on certain skills. I am hovering on the brink of taking up needlework again. If only to regain a measure of equilibrium and patience currently lacking.
Though, on reflection, I prefer to take up fencing once more. If ever there was a good sparring partner it’s me.
So, Jean, you wanted a boring story. Now you’ve got it.