OK, how many times have you practised throttling the pen and then dropping it? Er, person at the back, yes you; how many times did you do the exercise? No, there are no prizes or guaranteed places in the Guinness Book of Records for how many times you did it. Can anyone tell me and the rest of you why we even bothered doing the exercise in the first place? To get the ink flowing better; I think not. To see how far the pen rolled once it was dropped? Well, I don't know how many of you were hoping to get out of here as soon as the bell rings, but sadly for you my washing and ironing are up to date; there's nothing on the TV tonight so I have all the time in the world to enjoy your company as we all stay for detention this afternoon. Tra la la, can't hear you and no, you don't have dialysis for an earwax build up, so I am guaranteed your presence for a start.
The idea was to sense the difference between tension and relaxation; oh yes, big beaming smiles all round now, but you're still staying. Ok, so if we can enjoy more relaxation and let go of all the emotional baggage we carry around with us there is a greater possibility of receiving more of what we do want and less of what we don't. Magnets only attract what they want. Yes, there are times when there maybe odd bits of navel fluff or hairballs stuck to the object the magnet has grabbed, but that's because it was not specific as to its wants.
Lady in the middle row who has the new car; yes, you. When you were car shopping did you or did you not make your requirements known? And did you or did you not receive exactly what you wanted? What would have happened if you had just said blue BMW with retractable roof? Yes, you would still be looking.
So, your homework tonight is to practise with the pen and also start making a wish list of what you would really like. List 100 wants; no more, no less and bring it with you tomorrow. For the next few days we will be discussing the Law of Attraction.
Right, I am out of here. Last one out turn off the lights and put out the cat!
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Monday, 23 August 2010
Oops ...
Ok, slight disclaimer or whatever. It has been pointed out that I made a spelling mistake or grammatical error (maybe more than one, who knows)in the Letting Go blog of today:
By why does everything have to be a battle?
These are mistakes that I purposely put in to keep you on your toes. And that is my excuse and you may find that I stick to it. Obviously there are no real prizes for discovering these `mistakes' except that it keeps your brain more active!!!!
By why does everything have to be a battle?
These are mistakes that I purposely put in to keep you on your toes. And that is my excuse and you may find that I stick to it. Obviously there are no real prizes for discovering these `mistakes' except that it keeps your brain more active!!!!
Letting Go
I was reminded of something that I seem to have forgotten. Similar to sorting through old boxes and finding the fabulous things that had been buried under the struggle to discover your own `holy grail'; the fountain of bliss or whatever name you decide to call it. It is such a simple thing that it brings about a `wow' moment.
Imagine yourself as a soldier going into battle. You put on your uniform of camouflage to make you less visisble. Then you wrap your belt around you and tie it tight. You put on your boots that can negotiate any terrain. You then start strapping your weapons on. By the time you are ready you have just increased your weight by 75%, but that's ok because now you are ready for anything, aren't you?
Don't we all wear the soldier's gear to face everyday life? We spend most of the time on alert with our minds checking out the area for incoming threats. If she says this then I will say this; if he asks me to do anything outside of my job description then I will refuse point blank and tell him that it is not within my remit. Why is it always me that has to do this? Why can't I have a chance of doing that? I am so sick of .....
Sometimes you return home feeling good because you won the battle. By why does everything have to be a battle? Why do we always have to be prepared for combat?
We have free will; it came as part of the package when we arrived. What weighs heavier, a ton of bricks or a ton of emotion? Would you even consider picking up a ton of bricks without a forklift truck or other mechanical device? But most of us carry around a ton of emotion(s) without a thought and we cradle them to us as if we have to protect them. What is an emotion? There are many varieties of it, but what is it exactly?
Wikipedia describes it as:
`Emotion is the complex psychophysiological experience of an individual's state of mind as interacting with biochemical and environmental influences. In humans, emotion fundamentally involves "physiological arousal, expressive behaviors, and conscious experience"[1]. Emotion is associated with mood, temperament, personality and disposition, and motivation. The English word 'emotion' is derived from the French word émouvoir. This is based on the Latin emovere, where e- (variant of ex-) means 'out' and movere means 'move'.[2] The related term "motivation" is also derived from the word movere.'
It also goes on to say:
`People often behave in certain ways as a direct result of their emotional state, such as crying, fighting or fleeing. If one can have the emotion without the corresponding behavior, then we may consider the behavior not to be essential to the emotion. Neuroscientific research suggests there is a "magic quarter second" during which it's possible to catch a thought before it becomes an emotional reaction. In that instant, one can catch a feeling before allowing it to take hold.'
Let's look at that ``magic quarter second'during which it's possible to catch a thought before it becomes an emotional reaction.' We all know that the wrong reaction can bring about demolition of life as we know it. Although, unlike bombed buildings that can be rebuilt, words and actions in human interaction more often than not bring about the instant death of a relationship or the drip of finality that continues unseen until one day something irrelevant brings everything crashing down.
So, say that we practised the art of living in the now. Not yesterday or tomorrow, but now. Some people like to weave a story around their everyday lives, in some ways it is to keep the audience amused or emotionally involved. Most times the actual situation was minor on the rictor scale, but by adding a pinch or two of `seasoning' it can become an epic. If it brings laughter to those around you; an escape from their own thoughts just for that while then maybe it should be considered a tonic. However, if like the media tends to do, you hold your audience enthralled by making an incident the size of shadows and equally as black without warrant then what good does that bring?
Yesterday we were returning from walking the dogs around the field and there was a car being choked, throttled even. It annoyed me so I turned around and walked over to where a young girl was turning the ignition and texting at the sametime - multi tasking, fabulous! I tapped on the window and told her she was flooding the engine, but I was wrong. She was actually refusing to give the engine any fuel. She said her alternator was playing up and so I asked her to test her lights, all working. So I asked her to release the handbrake and I pushed the car just a foot or so - obviously she was out of the car after being requested. Then I told her to try again and this time just gently put her foot on the accelerator and the car started. She thanked me and drove away. Did I feel smug about winning? No, I felt good because the problem was solved and peace returned. No real fuss or bother.
Anyway, back to the beginning. What did I rediscover? Letting Go. Not bowel wise, wit!!! Try this at home or the office, wherever you are:
Pick up a pen and hold it in your hand. Hold it very tight, no tighter than that, no tighter than that even. Does it feel uncomfortable? Then just release it. Try it again; and again noticing the difference between holding it tight and letting it go.
Keep trying it and come back here tomorrow and we'll talk some more.
Imagine yourself as a soldier going into battle. You put on your uniform of camouflage to make you less visisble. Then you wrap your belt around you and tie it tight. You put on your boots that can negotiate any terrain. You then start strapping your weapons on. By the time you are ready you have just increased your weight by 75%, but that's ok because now you are ready for anything, aren't you?
Don't we all wear the soldier's gear to face everyday life? We spend most of the time on alert with our minds checking out the area for incoming threats. If she says this then I will say this; if he asks me to do anything outside of my job description then I will refuse point blank and tell him that it is not within my remit. Why is it always me that has to do this? Why can't I have a chance of doing that? I am so sick of .....
Sometimes you return home feeling good because you won the battle. By why does everything have to be a battle? Why do we always have to be prepared for combat?
We have free will; it came as part of the package when we arrived. What weighs heavier, a ton of bricks or a ton of emotion? Would you even consider picking up a ton of bricks without a forklift truck or other mechanical device? But most of us carry around a ton of emotion(s) without a thought and we cradle them to us as if we have to protect them. What is an emotion? There are many varieties of it, but what is it exactly?
Wikipedia describes it as:
`Emotion is the complex psychophysiological experience of an individual's state of mind as interacting with biochemical and environmental influences. In humans, emotion fundamentally involves "physiological arousal, expressive behaviors, and conscious experience"[1]. Emotion is associated with mood, temperament, personality and disposition, and motivation. The English word 'emotion' is derived from the French word émouvoir. This is based on the Latin emovere, where e- (variant of ex-) means 'out' and movere means 'move'.[2] The related term "motivation" is also derived from the word movere.'
It also goes on to say:
`People often behave in certain ways as a direct result of their emotional state, such as crying, fighting or fleeing. If one can have the emotion without the corresponding behavior, then we may consider the behavior not to be essential to the emotion. Neuroscientific research suggests there is a "magic quarter second" during which it's possible to catch a thought before it becomes an emotional reaction. In that instant, one can catch a feeling before allowing it to take hold.'
Let's look at that ``magic quarter second'during which it's possible to catch a thought before it becomes an emotional reaction.' We all know that the wrong reaction can bring about demolition of life as we know it. Although, unlike bombed buildings that can be rebuilt, words and actions in human interaction more often than not bring about the instant death of a relationship or the drip of finality that continues unseen until one day something irrelevant brings everything crashing down.
So, say that we practised the art of living in the now. Not yesterday or tomorrow, but now. Some people like to weave a story around their everyday lives, in some ways it is to keep the audience amused or emotionally involved. Most times the actual situation was minor on the rictor scale, but by adding a pinch or two of `seasoning' it can become an epic. If it brings laughter to those around you; an escape from their own thoughts just for that while then maybe it should be considered a tonic. However, if like the media tends to do, you hold your audience enthralled by making an incident the size of shadows and equally as black without warrant then what good does that bring?
Yesterday we were returning from walking the dogs around the field and there was a car being choked, throttled even. It annoyed me so I turned around and walked over to where a young girl was turning the ignition and texting at the sametime - multi tasking, fabulous! I tapped on the window and told her she was flooding the engine, but I was wrong. She was actually refusing to give the engine any fuel. She said her alternator was playing up and so I asked her to test her lights, all working. So I asked her to release the handbrake and I pushed the car just a foot or so - obviously she was out of the car after being requested. Then I told her to try again and this time just gently put her foot on the accelerator and the car started. She thanked me and drove away. Did I feel smug about winning? No, I felt good because the problem was solved and peace returned. No real fuss or bother.
Anyway, back to the beginning. What did I rediscover? Letting Go. Not bowel wise, wit!!! Try this at home or the office, wherever you are:
Pick up a pen and hold it in your hand. Hold it very tight, no tighter than that, no tighter than that even. Does it feel uncomfortable? Then just release it. Try it again; and again noticing the difference between holding it tight and letting it go.
Keep trying it and come back here tomorrow and we'll talk some more.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
The Treadle
My partner won a Singer treadle sewing machine on ebay on Monday. There was one minute to go and she put in the final bid; I know, a nailbiting finish - get the bunting out.
How can you `win' stuff on ebay? Surely winning is akin to winning the lottery or a prize of some sort? The lottery/raffle/bet etc is a gamble and it is up to the individual how much money is risked; a competition is the pitching of wits or talent (or lack of) for the winning rosette or whatever is for grabs; so how can outbidding people on ebay be called a win? It would be if they lost their money on it, but they don't. Most of them sit back and recognise the near miss and either breathe a sigh of relief because they can now pay the mortgage or sulk for a moment while preparing to bid on something else!
So, after she did a victory shout and semi dance the thought suddenly hit her at the back of the head like a wet kipper: where to put it; and then about four kipper slaps later I could see her mind ticking over and finally breathing a sigh of relief that the transportation of the vintage prized possession would be a challenge duly undertaken by yours truly ..... oh lucky, lucky me! Was it the following night she made the phonecall to the actual keeper of said treadle? Hmm, I think it was because that is when it was casually slipped into the conversation that `we' had a large car and `we' are quite strong etc and at that moment I was doomed. I have learnt over time that when the `we' is thrown into a conversation regarding some journey or battle against the elements the `we' is in the singular context.
Last night both of us ventured forth to collect the new `clothes rack' or storage unit - very much along the lines of the real usage of an exercise bike.
You know when someone says something and that little red light flashes in your brain and starts launching lifeboats, but you choose to ignore it because it always seems worse than it really is? Hit me with the kipper now!!! Yep, second floor flat, sheesh! The lady was very friendly, but then the relief of getting rid of said item must have caused her to breathe a sigh of joy and her boyfriend smiled a lot at us and helped me carry it down the stairs and across to the car to ensure that it went; everyone a happy bunny; only I was lagging behind on the happiness front because I knew that what goes into the car has to come out of the car and you could hardly call the new acquisition portable even though it did have its own set of casters; still, has to be done I suppose.
Luckily, and I use the word loosely, with much slackness actually Daphne was around and so we both ventured to transport it out of the car and into the house earlier. We managed to lift it to the ground by sliding it down my shins to protect it. At this point Daphne had a coughing fit and I had to manoeuvre it onto the trolley that decided to play silly beggars and try to escape, but luckily my fingers on my left hand are pretty flexible; more flexible than either they or me knew and so, not stopping to let out an anguished cry because that would have been considered leisure time, trolley and treadle finally connected and life was a breeze to the front door. At this point, as I managed to lift treadle over the step and hoping Daphne would take the hint and help, but she declined saying there was not enough room for both of us in the porch because my ass was too big, smaller dog decided to share the tiny amount of room with me and it wasn't until she decided to lift her head towards where the blasphemy was originating from that she thought better of it and went back inside. By this time my arms had grown somewhat; a fact I didn't noticed until later when I felt two things dragging on the floor and realised they were my hands; and so the last lift over the second step took a tad bit more growling and the deed was done!!!
It stands miffed in the bay window. I say miffed because I suppose it has reached that certain age when it commands a tad of respect (don't we all?) and so far hadn't been shown any except for the donation of the skin on my shins and a few skeletal unnatural stretches, but it will get over it and if not then ebay beckons!!!
How can you `win' stuff on ebay? Surely winning is akin to winning the lottery or a prize of some sort? The lottery/raffle/bet etc is a gamble and it is up to the individual how much money is risked; a competition is the pitching of wits or talent (or lack of) for the winning rosette or whatever is for grabs; so how can outbidding people on ebay be called a win? It would be if they lost their money on it, but they don't. Most of them sit back and recognise the near miss and either breathe a sigh of relief because they can now pay the mortgage or sulk for a moment while preparing to bid on something else!
So, after she did a victory shout and semi dance the thought suddenly hit her at the back of the head like a wet kipper: where to put it; and then about four kipper slaps later I could see her mind ticking over and finally breathing a sigh of relief that the transportation of the vintage prized possession would be a challenge duly undertaken by yours truly ..... oh lucky, lucky me! Was it the following night she made the phonecall to the actual keeper of said treadle? Hmm, I think it was because that is when it was casually slipped into the conversation that `we' had a large car and `we' are quite strong etc and at that moment I was doomed. I have learnt over time that when the `we' is thrown into a conversation regarding some journey or battle against the elements the `we' is in the singular context.
Last night both of us ventured forth to collect the new `clothes rack' or storage unit - very much along the lines of the real usage of an exercise bike.
You know when someone says something and that little red light flashes in your brain and starts launching lifeboats, but you choose to ignore it because it always seems worse than it really is? Hit me with the kipper now!!! Yep, second floor flat, sheesh! The lady was very friendly, but then the relief of getting rid of said item must have caused her to breathe a sigh of joy and her boyfriend smiled a lot at us and helped me carry it down the stairs and across to the car to ensure that it went; everyone a happy bunny; only I was lagging behind on the happiness front because I knew that what goes into the car has to come out of the car and you could hardly call the new acquisition portable even though it did have its own set of casters; still, has to be done I suppose.
Luckily, and I use the word loosely, with much slackness actually Daphne was around and so we both ventured to transport it out of the car and into the house earlier. We managed to lift it to the ground by sliding it down my shins to protect it. At this point Daphne had a coughing fit and I had to manoeuvre it onto the trolley that decided to play silly beggars and try to escape, but luckily my fingers on my left hand are pretty flexible; more flexible than either they or me knew and so, not stopping to let out an anguished cry because that would have been considered leisure time, trolley and treadle finally connected and life was a breeze to the front door. At this point, as I managed to lift treadle over the step and hoping Daphne would take the hint and help, but she declined saying there was not enough room for both of us in the porch because my ass was too big, smaller dog decided to share the tiny amount of room with me and it wasn't until she decided to lift her head towards where the blasphemy was originating from that she thought better of it and went back inside. By this time my arms had grown somewhat; a fact I didn't noticed until later when I felt two things dragging on the floor and realised they were my hands; and so the last lift over the second step took a tad bit more growling and the deed was done!!!
It stands miffed in the bay window. I say miffed because I suppose it has reached that certain age when it commands a tad of respect (don't we all?) and so far hadn't been shown any except for the donation of the skin on my shins and a few skeletal unnatural stretches, but it will get over it and if not then ebay beckons!!!
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Dangling Conversations
Right, I have noticed that although this blog was launched yesterday I only have two followers and that leads me to wonder where the rest of you earthlings are? I feel like a minister in church on Sunday. Come on, where everybody is?
Ah, and while I mention the word minister, and I am not even going into religion etc because it is dark and scary, or light and scary, or very powerful stuff apparently so I am not going there; however I will now relate a incident I witnessed and will then go on to throw up the usual inane questions.
Ok, this relates to a funeral service many years ago. The minister involved may still be walking the earth and preaching the same, but I am unaware and as he will remain nameless it doesn't matter. So, the mourners are safely gathered in staring at the wooden suit in front of them. Some very sad that the person they knew had now gone forth and some trying to wrack their brains as to what the deceased looked like, having only come along as support for mum or dad or partner who actually knew this person. Anyway the minister is feeling pretty good because he has a full congregation - something the inside of his church has not seen since '85 when someone spread the rumour that the then minister was doing naughties with the flower arranger. But I digress .... so he starts the usual we are gathered here today to say bye to blah de blah and all of a sudden he started ranting on about hell and damnation and how if the motley crew in front of him didn't get themselves down to a church on Sunday they could expect only the firey pit when they eventually decided go forth unto the heavens; only there would be no heaven for them only fire and brimstone.
Now, as usual I have a concern: so the ones with their botties on the seats or leaning up against the chapel walls were probably rethinking their lives and deciding against going to Costco, IKEA or wherever on Sunday and popping into the nearest God house to check that they were still booked on a cloud when they died. However, how about the poor sod in the box or wherever they were floating around hearing the fellah in the fancy robes who had got their name wrong twice so far and stating that they loved their garden when they were alive, although they lived on the fifth floor flat and the nearest they came to a garden was when the grandchildren dragged them off to a garden centre on the odd weekend; he/she was preparing to nestle down nicely on a puffy white thing in the sky inside the pearly gates and now there was a possibility that they were going to spend the rest of eternity on the tarmac gang in hell. I'm sure it can be very disconcerting. Surley these options should be reiterated prior to stopping breathing and then you have the chance to reconsider whether death should be postponed for a while until you have built up your Nectar points?
Also, will you have to show a loyalty card at the pearly gates?
Anyway, just a thought is all. Below is a dangling conversation between somebody and somebody .......
-0-0-0-
- if you were buying a birthday present for someone and you wanted it to be a surprise, what would you buy?
- Hmm, are they expecting a present from you?
- Possibly.
- What reaction are you hoping to elicit?
- One of surprise and pleasure.
- How much are you looking to spend?
- About £25.
- Good friend?
- I think so.
- What did they buy you?
- I haven’t known them that long.
- Then why £25?
- Why not?
- Hmm, and you want to get them something different?
- Yes, yes that would be really good!
- Something different that stands out from everybody else’s gift ….
- That would be really fantastic!
- ….Costing about £25?
- I could go to £30 if that would be better?
- No, £25 should be more than enough.
- This is so kind of you to help me with this.
- Hmm, you’ll need a box, but it’s getting the right size that’s the awkward bit.
- Well, yes it might be ……..
- When’s the birthday?
- Saturday.
- This Saturday?
- Yes.
- Erm, cutting it a bit fine aren’t you?
- Well I was hoping to go into town tomorrow …..
- Tomorrow? Town?
- Well yes; I have the card already …
- Oh that’s something at least.
- Do you think I could order it online and get it delivered direct?
- Possibly, they do next day delivery.
- Oh well that’s great!
- Yes, anyway, better be off before I miss my bus.
- Before you go …
- Yes?
- Er, you haven’t told me what to get?
- Why would I? I don’t even know the person.
- Yes, but you said I had to get the right size box and you said I could get it online. So, what is `it?
- How would I know? As I said, I don’t even know this person.
- Yes, but I thought you knew just the right present.
- What did this friend get for you?
- Er, well, we haven’t been friends that long, but it’s not the receiving, it’s the giving.
- You didn’t get anything, did you?
- Yes, well your friends didn’t even get you a card!
- I know, isn’t it great! We don’t worry about specific dates; we keep in touch throughout the year, email, the odd card for no reason, meeting up etc.
- Yes, but surely it is important to remember birthdays and Christmas?
- We celebrate un-birthdays; there are more of them and they always provide an excuse to get in touch! If I only contact my friends on birthdays and festive seasons then how do I know that they are okay during the rest of the year?
- I never thought of it in that way.
- Big presents and surprises are great, but on birthdays and Christmas do we really do it out of love or duty?
- Thank you. You have given me a different view.
- The odd card, phonecall or email without reason means a lot.
- Hmm, do you fancy a coffee?
- You treating me?
- Well I thought we could buy our own but continue to share our company?
- Tightwad!!!
Ah, and while I mention the word minister, and I am not even going into religion etc because it is dark and scary, or light and scary, or very powerful stuff apparently so I am not going there; however I will now relate a incident I witnessed and will then go on to throw up the usual inane questions.
Ok, this relates to a funeral service many years ago. The minister involved may still be walking the earth and preaching the same, but I am unaware and as he will remain nameless it doesn't matter. So, the mourners are safely gathered in staring at the wooden suit in front of them. Some very sad that the person they knew had now gone forth and some trying to wrack their brains as to what the deceased looked like, having only come along as support for mum or dad or partner who actually knew this person. Anyway the minister is feeling pretty good because he has a full congregation - something the inside of his church has not seen since '85 when someone spread the rumour that the then minister was doing naughties with the flower arranger. But I digress .... so he starts the usual we are gathered here today to say bye to blah de blah and all of a sudden he started ranting on about hell and damnation and how if the motley crew in front of him didn't get themselves down to a church on Sunday they could expect only the firey pit when they eventually decided go forth unto the heavens; only there would be no heaven for them only fire and brimstone.
Now, as usual I have a concern: so the ones with their botties on the seats or leaning up against the chapel walls were probably rethinking their lives and deciding against going to Costco, IKEA or wherever on Sunday and popping into the nearest God house to check that they were still booked on a cloud when they died. However, how about the poor sod in the box or wherever they were floating around hearing the fellah in the fancy robes who had got their name wrong twice so far and stating that they loved their garden when they were alive, although they lived on the fifth floor flat and the nearest they came to a garden was when the grandchildren dragged them off to a garden centre on the odd weekend; he/she was preparing to nestle down nicely on a puffy white thing in the sky inside the pearly gates and now there was a possibility that they were going to spend the rest of eternity on the tarmac gang in hell. I'm sure it can be very disconcerting. Surley these options should be reiterated prior to stopping breathing and then you have the chance to reconsider whether death should be postponed for a while until you have built up your Nectar points?
Also, will you have to show a loyalty card at the pearly gates?
Anyway, just a thought is all. Below is a dangling conversation between somebody and somebody .......
-0-0-0-
- if you were buying a birthday present for someone and you wanted it to be a surprise, what would you buy?
- Hmm, are they expecting a present from you?
- Possibly.
- What reaction are you hoping to elicit?
- One of surprise and pleasure.
- How much are you looking to spend?
- About £25.
- Good friend?
- I think so.
- What did they buy you?
- I haven’t known them that long.
- Then why £25?
- Why not?
- Hmm, and you want to get them something different?
- Yes, yes that would be really good!
- Something different that stands out from everybody else’s gift ….
- That would be really fantastic!
- ….Costing about £25?
- I could go to £30 if that would be better?
- No, £25 should be more than enough.
- This is so kind of you to help me with this.
- Hmm, you’ll need a box, but it’s getting the right size that’s the awkward bit.
- Well, yes it might be ……..
- When’s the birthday?
- Saturday.
- This Saturday?
- Yes.
- Erm, cutting it a bit fine aren’t you?
- Well I was hoping to go into town tomorrow …..
- Tomorrow? Town?
- Well yes; I have the card already …
- Oh that’s something at least.
- Do you think I could order it online and get it delivered direct?
- Possibly, they do next day delivery.
- Oh well that’s great!
- Yes, anyway, better be off before I miss my bus.
- Before you go …
- Yes?
- Er, you haven’t told me what to get?
- Why would I? I don’t even know the person.
- Yes, but you said I had to get the right size box and you said I could get it online. So, what is `it?
- How would I know? As I said, I don’t even know this person.
- Yes, but I thought you knew just the right present.
- What did this friend get for you?
- Er, well, we haven’t been friends that long, but it’s not the receiving, it’s the giving.
- You didn’t get anything, did you?
- Yes, well your friends didn’t even get you a card!
- I know, isn’t it great! We don’t worry about specific dates; we keep in touch throughout the year, email, the odd card for no reason, meeting up etc.
- Yes, but surely it is important to remember birthdays and Christmas?
- We celebrate un-birthdays; there are more of them and they always provide an excuse to get in touch! If I only contact my friends on birthdays and festive seasons then how do I know that they are okay during the rest of the year?
- I never thought of it in that way.
- Big presents and surprises are great, but on birthdays and Christmas do we really do it out of love or duty?
- Thank you. You have given me a different view.
- The odd card, phonecall or email without reason means a lot.
- Hmm, do you fancy a coffee?
- You treating me?
- Well I thought we could buy our own but continue to share our company?
- Tightwad!!!
Monday, 16 August 2010
Since this morning ......
Yep, I am like a kid with a new toy! Anyway, as I was walking the dogs this afternoon and watching some poser on a skateboard kiss the tarmac with his bot I was wondering about the whole array of fascinating rubbish I could present to you and thought I might split the blog into two ... or possibly three sections; the first being the greeting; the second linked to something useful and the third an illustration and/or photo of something irrelevant. What do you think?
Also, humble apologies for this morning - I realised I spelt mannequin wrong, so thank you for all that didn't point that out to me and to those who did remember:
A smartass isn't always the most popular fruit in the bowl!
Oh and is anyone interested in any ideas for unusual pressies etc? Well keep watching this space because over the next lifetime I will throw the odd idea to you (with photographic evidence of course) and maybe even publish the odd ebook or two, but try and stay calm.
So tomorrow looks promising doesn't it? Try and stay patient until then. Wonder what's for dinner?
Also, humble apologies for this morning - I realised I spelt mannequin wrong, so thank you for all that didn't point that out to me and to those who did remember:
A smartass isn't always the most popular fruit in the bowl!
Oh and is anyone interested in any ideas for unusual pressies etc? Well keep watching this space because over the next lifetime I will throw the odd idea to you (with photographic evidence of course) and maybe even publish the odd ebook or two, but try and stay calm.
So tomorrow looks promising doesn't it? Try and stay patient until then. Wonder what's for dinner?
First Day at the Blog
Ok, so this feels akin to standing at the side of the swimming pool for the first time wearing the swimming costume that instantly makes me look a size below double figures, in fact I am now the twin of the model in the photo ..... not!!! So, the water seems inviting and I should be able to just dive in and swim ..... however there could be things floating in there such as body hair that isn't known to me or a plaster or two that hasn't got my dna anywhere on it. Hmm .........
But enough of this procrastination!!! Just get on with it I hear you beg as your finger urges the dooberry wotsit towards a new tab.
Went to Camden on Saturday and nearly got swiped by a handbag around the head and it wasn't my fault! My partner decided that she wanted to start taking photos and told me to duck, so I did, only for this lady in front of me to see me in semi crouch pose. Possibly thinking I was some sort of bottom sniffing pervert she used her laser eyes to turn me into some apologetic sniveller. Sheesh! Have you been to Camden market? You either love it or hate it or put yourself through it as a character builder, not!
Me, I enjoy it, but only two or three times a year, just enough for me not to baulk at the suggestion to visit. Had lunch at The Diner, laying just off the main thoroughfare on the turning just before the bridge. Amazingly the lead waitress recognised me from last time ...... is that good or bad? Anyway, the food and the service are great, however the toilet always throws me off kilter at first due to the shiny black walls in the cubicle giving the illusion that there are actually two toilets. This caused concern on one of my earlier visits as being a person of very little brain I visualised someone coming through the door and sharing the cubicle with me. If that were to happen do you strike up a conversation; pretend that it is a normal occurence and continue; immediately stop mid pee, wipe, redress and flush and continue on your way? Also, on this latter point, if there are two of you in there who leaves first and do you turn your head away or carrying on looking at the back of the door as your companion does the wipe and flush? And while we are discussing concerns, while wandering through the market I noticed that there was more than one occurrence of a manniquen torso wearing just a jacket and exposing there lower regions to the population. It caused me some concern because my brain instantly stuck a `over 18s' rating on the scene!
I did ask if I could have a cannabis lolly but was told no as it would probably make me more insane than usual and I might end up glowing in the dark or being sick on the tube on the way home. Some people have no sense of adventure! Although I must admit the green lolly did resemble that slime that you can get in toyshops, yuk; but that isn't the point.
So what is at Camden? Why go there? Why do I go there? Well there are more stalls selling many things that you wouldn't give house room to and there are also stalls that saturate themselves with colour and scents that waft under your nose and encourage reminders of your past. There is a vast selection of food, most of it of the same nationality but with slight differences. There is everything vintage and every possible form of incense. You can be tattooed in works of art or later regret. Body pierced in places that will confuse the nurse at your next visit. Compose and design your own tee shirt that you will wear proudly on the tube home and then only wear it hidden under a jumper unless it does you a favour and dies in the washing machine. You can purchase a gadget that enables you to recreate birdsong or bird flatulence. Or you can buy nothing at all and just wander around composing your dislikes or likes of the place. You will encounter people that will cause you to stare impolitely or look away quickly. Selections of humanity walk beside you sharing your experience. Try it, you might like it.
Anyway, on that note I will close and leave you in peace and hope to meet you back here very soon.
But enough of this procrastination!!! Just get on with it I hear you beg as your finger urges the dooberry wotsit towards a new tab.
Went to Camden on Saturday and nearly got swiped by a handbag around the head and it wasn't my fault! My partner decided that she wanted to start taking photos and told me to duck, so I did, only for this lady in front of me to see me in semi crouch pose. Possibly thinking I was some sort of bottom sniffing pervert she used her laser eyes to turn me into some apologetic sniveller. Sheesh! Have you been to Camden market? You either love it or hate it or put yourself through it as a character builder, not!
Me, I enjoy it, but only two or three times a year, just enough for me not to baulk at the suggestion to visit. Had lunch at The Diner, laying just off the main thoroughfare on the turning just before the bridge. Amazingly the lead waitress recognised me from last time ...... is that good or bad? Anyway, the food and the service are great, however the toilet always throws me off kilter at first due to the shiny black walls in the cubicle giving the illusion that there are actually two toilets. This caused concern on one of my earlier visits as being a person of very little brain I visualised someone coming through the door and sharing the cubicle with me. If that were to happen do you strike up a conversation; pretend that it is a normal occurence and continue; immediately stop mid pee, wipe, redress and flush and continue on your way? Also, on this latter point, if there are two of you in there who leaves first and do you turn your head away or carrying on looking at the back of the door as your companion does the wipe and flush? And while we are discussing concerns, while wandering through the market I noticed that there was more than one occurrence of a manniquen torso wearing just a jacket and exposing there lower regions to the population. It caused me some concern because my brain instantly stuck a `over 18s' rating on the scene!
I did ask if I could have a cannabis lolly but was told no as it would probably make me more insane than usual and I might end up glowing in the dark or being sick on the tube on the way home. Some people have no sense of adventure! Although I must admit the green lolly did resemble that slime that you can get in toyshops, yuk; but that isn't the point.
So what is at Camden? Why go there? Why do I go there? Well there are more stalls selling many things that you wouldn't give house room to and there are also stalls that saturate themselves with colour and scents that waft under your nose and encourage reminders of your past. There is a vast selection of food, most of it of the same nationality but with slight differences. There is everything vintage and every possible form of incense. You can be tattooed in works of art or later regret. Body pierced in places that will confuse the nurse at your next visit. Compose and design your own tee shirt that you will wear proudly on the tube home and then only wear it hidden under a jumper unless it does you a favour and dies in the washing machine. You can purchase a gadget that enables you to recreate birdsong or bird flatulence. Or you can buy nothing at all and just wander around composing your dislikes or likes of the place. You will encounter people that will cause you to stare impolitely or look away quickly. Selections of humanity walk beside you sharing your experience. Try it, you might like it.
Anyway, on that note I will close and leave you in peace and hope to meet you back here very soon.
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