Friday, February 08, 2008

2006-10-20 016 - Paddle, creek, do the rest yourselfOooh fireworks.

I've no idea why they're there, but never mind. This - and typing's going to be hard peering over my shoulder at burning sky. That one was good, and yhjse match the street;ohjts/ Sorry, not looking as typing. It's not helped by alt-tabbing to Dionne Warwick at the same time. But I've finally figured out how to fill the Top of the Pops slot (yes, I know it used to be on Thursday, but so was Scouts). Last week's Later iPlayered. And yes this does mean I tend to find myself hurrying to watch programmes before they vanish having declined to watch them on first broadcast and only remembering I still haven't seen them when the next one is about to be on. Making the unmissable likely to be missed. And of course the iPlayer does let one skip anything too folky or people like that bricks woman who isn't Kate Bush. Wrecked the NYE version. Kate Nash.

Anyway, not sure what to type now being grossly out of practice and supposed to be prepping for familial joy (there's descending upon due). The occasion is practical Mohs testing due to the SIL being a bit more likely to be what it appears most other people read that acronym as. There shall be dancing, fortunately outsourced (my parents' isn't really designed for such eventualities; I'd best not comment on whether my parents are).

Oh, and do not go exploring between scudding showers, trying to follow a path across a thoroughly destoned ex-potato-farm, so one where the ground flows, as you may feel like you are playing Frogger in the ruts, gauging the success of each choice by the new high tide mark; just as well I wasn't wearing my new Converse. But I did get to see the utterly disconcerting sight of a tractor edging slowly forward mammoth tyres turning faster than the world was passing. One doesn't normally think of tractors skidding but it would appear to be entirely possible.

By the way, when is Honesty meant to flower? Because I have a hunch that it's not pre-Valentine's Day. And yet some of those I saw seemed to be half over.

Anyway, this is supposed to be an explanation of other posts - there's two detailing the same event because I forget I'd started one and can't decide how to merge them (i.e. haven't the inclination to attempt to do so). Still haven't done the remaining backlogged, but c'est la vie a la me.

Hope y'all been being good little boys and... no girls read this, do they? Not many of any other sex do either. Hardly surprising though.



PS. Yay, I'm not scrawny or gangly; I'm fashionable.

I read you religiously: occasionally for the vicarious thrill, occasionally for the literary invention, and sometimes to remind myself why I don't have a car.
Christmas, Easter; that kind of thing?

Vicarious thrill, literary invention? Are you sure you've not been confusing me with Sin [see the sidebar]?

Having a car isn't that bad. It can be quite nice, when it works and isn't maimed (and isn't attacked by flying recycling bins [mine], flying wheelie bins [my brother's], passing dustcarts [my brother's, thereby writing that one off] or a car higher up a hill neglecting to use the handbrake [my mother's, though the other crumpled more]). It also carries the advantage that going to see people does not involve changing at Clapham Junction and Victoria (I strongly suspect Dr Beeching lived in London, home of many termini [Damn the internet for allowing me to check and find he lived in East Grinstead, at least according to Wikipedia]).

And it took me a while to figure out the name behind the initials. I'm now wondering how many others have crept over from Flickr, despite me pulling the direct link. Normally the traffic's strictly one-way.

So thank you for reading, and now if you'll excuse me I have to have my usual "Ah, God, someone new" panic and worry about how it all must seem, plus try to think of anything good with which to keep your interest.

So do you blog or just loiter? And can you recommend any other decent lurking spots?
I put the P in especially for you, as you used to have such fun with it.

I'm afraid I found this through Google (it's amazing how many people use the same cyber ID for all sorts of different things...). And no, I don't blog : it would be terribly tedious and probably end up as a Victor Meldrewesque rant. Either that or a travelblog, which would be even duller. So you are spared that.
Its sudden disappearance drew attention to it; that's all.

The blog spawned Flickr, so they share the same name. The blog alone tends to be fairly easy to keep hidden, the photographic record of assorted places I frequent rather less so, hence trying to remove the Flickr to blog links (which Google promptly circumvents).

And you think I don't do rants?
On the PS:
urchin, a wraith or an underfed runt
Bit harsh and not really how I'd describe you, Mr Hoo. But if it makes you happy via such a harsh description now to be declared fashionable, so be it. Whatever it takes.
I'm more waif*-like than I am at-least-a-c-cup-Abercrombie-model.

* Did they mean waif or wraith? Could be either.

Oooh, new word: eidolon. And yes, I was checking definitions before posting.
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