Bitch on the Blog

February 19, 2013


Filed under: Errors — bitchontheblog @ 19:14

Am considering changing my blog name by one letter. Botch on the Blog.

Uggs and hisses yours,



February 18, 2013

Options paralysis

Filed under: Architecture,Communication — bitchontheblog @ 05:46
Tags: , , , ,

There are questionable sayings. Like “Whenever a door closes another one opens”. Not in my experience. A door will close (make sure your foot doesn’t get caught in it and just walk down the corridor – an exit will show itself) and then – after a suitable interval of agonizing –  not ONE, nay, several doors will open all at once. Like buses. First there is none for twenty minutes. Then you’ve forgotten which number is yours. Come to think of it: That’s how carelessly I live my life. Some of my wonderous fellow human beings having it all mapped out. Sweethearts, if you are one of them make sure you know how to read a map without having to turn it upside down in order to take the right or left turn on route from A to B.

Apropos of nothing: I don’t like revolving doors. They are a menace and in these ‘health and safety’  hyper aware times should be banned.


February 11, 2013


Filed under: Amusement — bitchontheblog @ 13:00
Tags: , ,

Sweethearts, I now know how a hen feels. Or why swans take it in turns. Or why the Cuckoo drops it into someone else’s nest.

I am sitting on an egg. Which, if I want it to hatch, means I am immobilized.

I am not much into cost/benefit analysis but I am not an idiot either.

Hugs and kisses,


February 8, 2013

Buttoned up

Filed under: Philosophy — bitchontheblog @ 19:24
Tags: , , , , , , ,

What would you rather be? A button or a zip? Don’t answer this question in haste. There are considerations to be made.

Buttons will fall off. Never to be found again.

Zips may be faster to do up than buttons. They also are notoriously unreliable. For more reasons than the first that may come to your mind. What comes to your mind depends on who you are.

Unless you are a dressmaker or a taylor you are unlikely to ever have stitched a zip. Yet even the most inept will have tried, at some point in their lives – say, post childhood and pre marriage and after your mother has died and before joining the Navy – to sew on a button. There is more to sewing on a button than meets the uninitiated eye. Take it from me. I know. I even learnt (age 10) how to make button HOLES. Button holes that have stood the test of time. Reinforced. Yes, two hours a week. Wednesday afternoons. If ever I have known evil in a woman it was that terrible teacher. She was huge with a matronly bosom to match and marked me down as “Ursula is too ambitious”. Talk about motivating your pupils. Luckily, in an emergency, I know how to hold my tongue. To this day I do have a particularly intricate  piece I made then – a thing of beauty – and when I happen upon it I do hold my finger up to her. No, not really. In those days fingers were for needle work – not to be held up.

Other than that buttons are – unlike zips – like rabbits. You will accumulate them. Whether you like it or not. Spares will come with every suit. And will be with you long after that piece of clothing has hit landfill, recycling or the charity shop. On top of which – health warning: this is getting confessional – I can’t help myself cutting buttons off garments before discarding the bit they were attached to. There is something eternal about buttons. Unlike zips. Which either work or they don’t.


February 2, 2013


Filed under: Fairy Tales — bitchontheblog @ 12:08
Tags: , , ,

I don’t really believe it, but in the face of evidence I need to: Sometimes it’s better to lock up and throw away the key.

Throw away the key? You’ve got to be joking. Whatever happened to memory? Yes. Bluebeard comes to mind. A  man I reserve no feelings for other than wondering what his mother was like. Best case scenario his wiring went wrong. Please, the romantically inclined among you, don’t jump to wrong conclusion: There never has been a Bluebeard in my life. If I want to jam a door I am perfectly able to do so all by myself. My saving grace being that I am not given to snooping so no Bluebeard and his key could tempt  me. Which, most likely, annoying to him. Anyway, there are many ways to employ a key. Hot tip of the day: The door, probably, open anyway.

I have a little display case hung on the kitchen wall (hung being the key word here) with a beautiful old key. I have no idea what it might unlock. Probably an opening long decayed. As symbols in my world go it’s good: Sometimes I find an opening – and don’t have a key (bashing your shoulder is not the answer); sometimes I have a key and no opening.

Will now go and buy some Borax, Baking Soda, white distilled white vinegar, a scrubbing brush, two spray bottles and a tub of ASTONISH.  And brunch for the boys. Any of you having my phone number please call me later this afternoon to distract me from job in hand. The rest of you may write. Aren’t I gracious.

U – 1205 hrs GMT

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