Returned with a Chicken Pox Warning

I returned from Scotland to London today. As I left sheets of sleet obscured vision, chilly air spewed forth clouds of frosted breath and I got on a 4 minute delayed train. An old and slightly odd couple sat on the other side of the carriage from me. Odd, because they talked with plums in their mouth. As though brought up from some rich or middle class background. I settled into my seat facing forward and time flew by. Taking a look out of the window at York the inevitable flooded field and high stream threatened to drown the city. But some how it clings on to an imaginary boy. Maybe donut shaped. It bobs up and down and fortunately the train line remains dry as do the stones surrounding them. The train trundled on towards London and I sent a text message to Sparkling Eyes.

After a returned text asking if I'd received the other text messages she had tried to send me, the news came. Yep. Typical and something to make me sweat with dread besides the creeping onset of flu. One of our party from the log cabin had come down with Chicken Pox an adult not a child. He must of been a carrier for the days he was there amongst us. This is very bad news. I've had the pox which means I'd be in line for the Shingles and what gruesome stories I've heard about them. Great. Shingles+Flu=lurgies. My head is aching bad enough as it is. I don't want to drown myself in sorrows of hypochondria, or worse the real thing, but I can't help being a pessimist at times. It's a different thing thinking you could be having a brain hemorrhage because you smell toast in the morning and nobody is making toast. However, Shingles is not what I had in mind. I spoke to Rock Chick on the phone and let her know. She to thinks she could be having a brain embolism. Even though I said it only occurs if you smell something which is not there. In the meantime Sparkling Eyes tells me about the bump on her back, oozing out a puss from the recently applied poultice. Hey and to note if I get the Flu guess who gave it to me.

Tomorrow is a day in the fish factory. Shortly I'll have a picture or two sent to me of the wonderful surprise party we had for Sparkling Eyes. I might just stick it on here for all to see. The one I have in mind is where I'm wearing a Robin outfit, the other half to Batman. Lets not talk about how tight it was, or how fat I am.

Well something good to look forward to, the pox.

Scared by log cabin ghost story

It's about two in the morning, behind a closed door was a living room. The TV had stopped playing from a DVD left in continuous loops. Somewhere music was could be heard. Sparkling Eyes decided she had a desire for fruit juice. The log cabin we slept in was big, it had 5 bedrooms and all were occupied. Except our bedroom was alone. Upstairs. Sparkling had to walk through the open planned lounge area into the kitchen. I slept on, barely aware Sparkling had arisen to quench her first. A few moments later, she returned to bed. Elbow. Elbow. Slight pain, followed by the inevitable question "are you awake?" From a drowsy sleep I replied "yes, darling." Unfortunately for me I should of pretended to still be asleep but I didn't. For now Sparkling was to tell me what had just happened.


She'd left the room for juice and walked into the kitchen. Then Sparkling felt a tingle go down her back, it was as though could fingers had gently touched her spine. Hence a shiver. Spine tingling shiver. The Karaoke machine was playing a CD, so she turned it off. Turning around and about to head into the kitchen area Sparkling noticed a chair had been moved. It was in a different position from when she'd originally entered this area. There was a presence, Sparkling felt something, as though it was trying to get to her, it was around her. Closing in. Surrounding. Dare I say, as though it wanted to overtake her, to possess. So it was time to get out she returned back to bed. Woke me, from sleep bleary eyed I listened, becoming more alert as she described what had happened. I was being pulled in like a fish being realed after taking a peck and some very delicious looking bait. Then came the request.

"Darling, would you go and get me some juice?" My response was "I'm asleep, tired" not very good because I was still able bodied. I should of replied along the lines of "sorry darlink, I'm crippled, my legs wont work, and blind, nope just can't move a foot," this would of had more of an effect. Not good enough. I was pushed, shoved and cursed. Because I wouldn't go and get some juice. Well, what half sane man would after hearing a story of spine chilling fingers? Or being told "I think this place is haunted." All very encouraging information. It's not because I believe in these things, I don't, it's just I didn't need the extra information. If Sparkling had just asked me to get some juice without the ghost story I would of not hesitated. My legs just wouldn't move. Sparkling gave me the I-am-not-amused-look, the kind of look I try to avoid. And I must admit to almost being cajoled, bullied, pushed out of the bed. For Sparkling's convenience. But I didn't.

Morning came and so did daylight and the ghost had gone. Wonderful. Except I'd been given the look. Memo to self, put the number of a good priest into my mobile phone, one who can do ghost checks over the phone and exorcise them. Alternatively, just don't believe in those things. Blimey I don't. Well, I'll remember next time. Oh yes, where did I put the holy water?

Batman and Robin - Green Tights

It's not something a man should really do. Not if he's a man. Unless there happens to be some kind of weird tendency he keeps secret from friends, family and work colleagues. But I shall soon be wearing green tights. All for a reason of course. To be in costume. To be Robin the shorter more handsome of the crime fighting duo Batman and Robin. Holly mackerel Batman. Yes, Robin will be on the streets in Scotland.

Now this is not a natural course of events. I'm going to be dressed up for a Fancy Dress party. I don't go about looking like a crime fighter every day. Which I'm sure many people would be happy about. Many criminals dressed in black and carrying bags with the word SWAG printed on them. Though I'm not sure what SWAG actually stands for. I'm sure it's lots of illicit goodies stolen from the good people of Gotham City. Did I actually just say Gotham City? Holly mollowly Batman I feel something's happening to me. Better get to the Bat mobile. Hey don't I have a motorbike? A special Robin bike? Which could mean I'll have to start taking motor bike lessons. I wonder if I can get a helmet to match my crime fighting outfit?

I just hope I don't ladder my tights.

2008 meets the bionic woman

OK so it's a few more days into 2008, and I'm still wondering what I am going to do. It's not a matter of procrastinating, though it might be, I hope it's not. I checked out some courses and then heard the government are going to stop subsidies on part time educational bents. Bloody typical, I didn't even know there was help available and then the government withdraws it. It seems wherever there is a chance to cut funds to the people who need it then the British Government will do their best to find a way to cut. It's not very labour like. In fact they should change their political persuasion. Perhaps call themselves the middle-of-the-road party.

So in the process of considering what my next move is I've just seen the first 8 episodes of the Bionic woman. Played by an English actress called Michelle Ryan who happened to have started in a Soap called Eastenders first. During the first episode I kept expecting her to talk like a Cockney at any time. Then I thought maybe some American woman is the voice and she's just moving her mouth saying words which are dubbed out of the frame and overlapped by the American actress. But after a couple of episodes I soon got into the swing of this miss matched image and voice. Why on earth the producers and directors didn't let her remain English I don't know. I'm sure the Americans are not stupid enough to be caught out by her put-on American accent. In one episode she actually has to pretend to be English. And in typical American stereotype she has to have a middle-to-upper class Oxford accent. This made me want to puke. Hey if there's any Americans out there check out the English actor in the series "Dead like Me" now he is English and not some nonced up put-on just for the American audience. Then that's a Canadian series not American.

I'll be off in a week or so to see Sparkling Eyes again. I'm sure she'll be practicing her kick me up the ass routine if I don't make myself useful. To tell the truth I'm fed up with attempting to put up doors with the wrong tools knowing I'm being set up to fail. Maybe I should take up some kind of wood working. Which could be useful. Useful when hanging doors I bet.

2008 Something has to be done

First day back at Fish Factory for 2008. It's weird returning back to the grindstone on a Wednesday. A number of people have complained it felt like a Monday. I hate Mondays. No it's definitely a Wednesday and a new year. A very new year. Things are going to change, things will be different.

I've felt sorry for myself in some minor way, I didn't realise this, but Sparkling Eyes did. She demanded I change my attitude when I'd rang her up on New Year's day. She would ring back and I had better be different. Needless to say she didn't. Ring back that is. Whereas I took the opinion if she can't be bothered to ring back then I'll not be bothered to text her. It's her move now. She should of rung. I'd put myself out yesterday. No. I'm going to sit on my high horse here and not budge. This is the normal very macho thing to do if your a man. There's only so far more you should go when you already put yourself out. So I wait, still no text. Still no phone call. I may have made a mistake. But then I don't want to seem needy. I got my life to lead, things to do, blogs to write. Changes to make. Yes. Positively this year will see a change.

I've felt I've wasted too much time doing nothing. I was saying this or words to this effect to my compatriots in the pub over my Guinness. I'm going to do something different, it don't matter what it is it has to be something different. Something more constructive with my time. Something useful. So far I've looked at further education classes, dancing and creative writing. Though not all at the same time. I just know I got to do something. Something different and stop sitting here watching DVDs letting the world pass me by. Sparkling will no doubt take credit for this self inspirational bent. Being as she has spent time cajoling me, kicking me literally in the head, pulling my strings, pulling my leg, and jabbing a red nail varnished finger in my direction. I can feel the bruises. I'm on the road to somewhere and it don't matter where it is as long as I'm on the bus. I wonder if Sparkling will be driving, damn I know what she's like soon as I ring for my stop she'll over shoot it and make me walk the half mile back. Better get my boots on then.