Geese and a laughing Monster

Got a bargain at the pound shop today, it was the first four episodes of Ronnie Barker's classic comedy Porridge. I can't wait for a moment to see them. This evening I took Monster Boy out for a good long walk, probably about two to three miles and ended up well knackered. On the way back we saw an odd sight, as four Canadian Geese decided to join the horses in the fenced enclosure. They must see it as a safe haven from people. We watched as they waddled their way towards the fence, jumped over the bottom bar and walked past the horse manure into the field. I even videoed some of it on my camera. Monster boy has taken to running after the geese with his ball but on this occasion we were so tired from the walk we just watched them on their way. I also saw Monster Boy go up to a horse with a hand full of grass and feed him. It made me happy to think only just a week ago he couldn't feed the horses and now he is a old hand at it. In one swoop the horse ate the grass and then Monster patted him on the head.

I have got to realise Monster Boy loves to win at football and he loves to cheat while he is winning. All the cards have to be stacked in his favour, and it's me who has to be in goal. This in part reminds me of Sparkling, because she is quite the same when it comes to her competitive nature. Given any opportunity she will be hiding the aces up her sleeve. I then wonder if Monster has taken lessons from her, because he even picks up the goal posts and runs off with them when it's his turn in goal. I wouldn't mind but he does it when I am a mile away and have to run after him because my coat was one of the posts. But he laughs and laughs this very big smile, and one very large front second tooth shines out as well. His eyes have a glint of mischievousness about them which adds to his rogue winning streak. I get to be so happy I am cheated at football the game doesn't matter at all, just the laughter. It's the same laugher I and Sparkling enjoy in each other's company. In moments like these the wonder's of life and the universe are open and so simple and so easy to appreciate. Everything seems right and in it's right place.

Reflections of a belly

It's been a full day, and the odd thing about making days stretch to their full capacity is you want to stretch them some more. It's like the next thought in you're head is "what else can I do today?" For me the next thing on the agenda was to put something on my blog, so here it is. Creepy.

After gym I checked out my physique in the mirror, for some reason it didn't seem to match what I actually see. When I look at myself I see a slightly overweight middle aged bloke, but the mirror said "hey fat boy, you're not the fairest of them all, that's for sure." It seems even inanimate objects have their opinion. Seeing as a lot of body beautiful people are probably checking out their toned Roman like six packs, the mirror saw my rather over the belt blubber and just couldn't help itself. The blubber belly took offence at this and then made me walk away to finish packing up and head out. It's got to be a matter of old age creeping up, and now it is well and truly crept up. Crept up and given my waist line a bag of potatoes to carry about. King Edwards I think. Unfortunately there is not enough middle aged people in the gym, there are some, but not enough. So I'm really in the vanguard of my age group, pushing on forwards and trotting loudly on the machines. Loudly because my footfalls are somewhat heavier than they used to be. But the machines can keep up, of the time being. I'm not so sure about me.

I have had it in my mind to get one of those felt tip pens, which can write on glass. Then I could draw pictures on the mirrors in the gym or write little messages for the beautiful people so they could not appreciate them. Just in order to wind them up a little. However, I'd have to be quick and there would have to be no one about at the time, so it will probably never happen. I don't know what the infatuation is with self beauty but a lot of younger people seem to show it. Mind they are not the only one's. I heard this morning on the radio of a new facial cream which was being sold by Boots and it was proved to actually work in diminishing crows feet etc. Apparently it sold out so fast there is no more in supply to put back on the shelves. Wish I'd of known about it, because if I ever do get to slim the beast of a belly down, I'm sure to need some of it to fade away the stretch marks.

Bacon got my goat

In an effort to do something over an ever increasing girth, I've been busy over the last two days. Gym yesterday and today a walk with Little Monster Boy. When I got back from the walk I felt tired and could of so easily just closed my eyes and fallen asleep. But instead I went online and before long found myself having a head to head with Sparkling.

My audio memo's have been collecting and I've began to write them up. They are notes to myself about my thoughts on how to string together a story. Character's, plot lines and many other things. In fact it is becoming quite complex. But in writing them up, I can see a lot of material waiting to be put to use. It is surprising how many things can be pulled together in a short time. Part of the discussion I had with Sparkling was because of my writing up these notes. She thought it was creepy, her word not mine. Which made me mad. They are my personal thoughts and they have a constructive and progressive feel to them. It's like a seed growing in my mind. As I write them up things become clearer, they may be all muddled observations but I can see something coming together.

I recall in psychology the teaching of visual perception in which reference was made to Gestalt Psychologists. These were psychologists who understood how the mind pieced things together, how leaps and assumptions are made about what we see and then create illusions. Gestalt is a German word, and it means something along the lines of: the sum is greater than the parts, or the big picture, so to say. This is how it feels to me in writing these notes. And rather than just sitting and doing nothing, I now feel I am actually being active, progressing. Although in small steps. So it was no wonder when Sparkling used the word creepy, I knew she didn't understand and I got mad. In turn I tried to remind her it just so happened to be two Scottish people who have returned to Mexico and brought with them the Swine Flu virus. So now we're not talking.

Well I think tomorrow morning when I get up I'll have a nice crispy bacon sandwich for breakfast, now isn't that creepy?

Weird dreams and ghosts

Had another weird and crazy dream this morning. Unfortunately it wasn't the one where I have a million followers on my blog. Come to think of it, I've never had such a dream, just a wish. No this morning's dream was I suspect because I got up early for the Fish Factory. Then when I left the house I forgot my phone. Which meant as the doors to the fish factor were closed and I had no way of communication to those inside to come and open the door for me, I was going to have to wait until someone came along who did have a phone. Fortunately for me there was already 2 people standing outside. We got in eventually. The dream must of put me in an absent minded state. I had done the usual morning things and just left, walking to the bus stop I was thinking of the dream. There's nothing fantastical about it, it was just a semi comatose hallucination. One in which people joined a church because they were giving a way free food. I did some investigation to find out what the catch was and found the free food was all out of date goods. There was a massive court yard where a small platform stood a few inches off the ground. It would be on this people would stand and sing. I didn't see this happen, I just seemed to be piecing together a jigsaw, like the clues in a detective novel. The ones scattered around so you can put them together and deduct who did the dastardly deed. Needless to say I didn't get to the bottom of this deed and what this church was gaining from it's followers. But of course as they always say "follow the money" where there's a church there's someone creaming off the top. No matter how devout the followers are, it's all about the money. Or in this case the free packets of corn flakes and outdated food stuffs.

The other night while chatting to Sparkling she told me how she'd had a problem getting to sleep. On how one night she had slept with the light on. It was all to do with ghosts and ghoolies. She's been scaring herself witless. While sitting in the office at work she said a couple of staff had heard the sound of horses hooves. Apparently there was nowhere they could of come from. This got them on to thinking the office was haunted. Other things had gone on there. Personally though I don't believe in these things but I do get the creeps about them. I can't help it, I'm easily scared. But I don't believe them. But rather than shrug off this event, the girls got their gossip hat on, the on and started to talk about ghosties and things. Sparkling did some research to try and find out about the office. It turns out it and the surrounding buildings are built on an old grave yard and wood. Hundreds of years ago there used to be highway men there, robbing people as they went past. Of course being on a grave yard sounds creepy enough, but try saying to someone with a irrational mind it's the place where people are dead first then buried it has no effect. I mean, in reality if there were such a thing as ghosts but there isn't, they would likely be at a place where when alive they suffered pain or torture. Odd as well how when we have to invent ghosts they have to of been the victims of something nefarious. There just isn't such a thing as a happy ghost, one like Mr Blobby, or perhaps Abbot and Costello. It's the same old story. A place where ghosts frequent is because they were in either agony, pain or a psychological disturbance so bad they have to come back to let everybody else know about it. Come on now, get over it. So yes, Sparkling had scared herself to the extent she needed the light on in order to sleep.

In my dreams I don't have to worry about ghosts, just being over fed on free food and religeon. Well at least I can have a good laugh over it. As for ghosts, just pull the other one, it's got bells on it.

Colombian moles

I'm not sure but the difficult to get to sleep nights are playing chequers with me. I wouldn't mind but having a morning nightmare dream doesn't help either. I'll get to the point where I'll never want to sleep again. Sparkling occasionally doesn't help when this happens, as she takes pleasure in vexing me to her delight. But saying this she has been good lately. I just wish I wouldn't dream about being associated with a Colombian drug dealer, living in a terrace house. Or the fact he invited me to dine and as I was staying in the house as well I didn't make it on time. So was told I'd not get anything to eat. I thought you were supposed to forget dreams, or most of them, I wish I had. It left me feeling helpless and concerned when I got up. Fortunately there's not many Colombian Baron drug dealers living in this part of the world. Well, not at the moment. I have got to stop watching import TV shows from America.

Sparkling has told me about her appointment with the doctor. It turned out to be a follow up appointment about the mole which had taken up residence near her eye. He was called Fred we'd made jokes about Fred, and when Sparkling realised he was getting bigger she decided to do something and got him removed. In today's debrief she found out Fred was a rodent ulcer. The doc now said Sparkling has now to keep out of the sun and to come back in 4 months time just to check how her face is healing and nothing more has returned. It was a bit of a shock for Sparkling. I recall, shortly after the operation she was complaining at the size of the scar and wanted to beat the doctor up. The scar felt a lot bigger than it actually was, but fortunately she got through her anger towards the surgeon. A little bit of convincing it was just a little thing helped. It was a shock to me as well when she found out today as well. I know nothing about these things and like Sparkling just didn't know what to expect when she had been booked for surgery. It's all to do with sun light, it is bad for the skin, so she now has to keep covered up. The problem is you can become paranoid at any blemish or growth when something like this happens. However, I do know of someone else who has had a couple of skin cancers removed from her skin but still insists or sun bathing. Which seems stupid to me.

No matter what happens to Sparkling I always think she a beautiful woman, and has a great sense of humour and wonderful character. I told her so and now can't wait to my next visit to see her. I just hope she doesn't intend to play on my bad dreams. It's bad enough trying to sleep with dreams of Colombian gangsters, let alone any other complaint.

Sunday, carotino, and the sound of silence

Today I was woken up early, the knock was from Silly Sophia dropping off doughnuts. It was good because Little Monster Boy who had been staying over got to see his mum. He was happy to give her a hug and know she'd be coming to collect him later. The waking up was bad because at 7:45 a.m. on a Sunday. I was expecting to sleep in to at least 9:00 a.m. then slowly merge into the day. Big moma had plans so she took the Monster off to Greenwich for a walk and to feed squirrels. It kept them both occupied but left me in to do the chores. They got the best deal.

The rest of my morning and part afternoon was split between bashing the carpets out in the garden and making lunch. Lamb chops, they turned out pretty OK. I been using a different oil to cook them. It's an Australian oil and called Carotino composed of red palm and canola. It's supposed to be vitamin rich and have no cholesterol. It cooked them pretty quickly so I ended up slightly overdooing them. Though I might not use it on the roast potatoes next time. They seemed to soak it all up and I thought afterwards, the calorie intake must of been high. It also has an orange shade to it, the taste is nondescript, but at least it's not lard. So it will not fur up my arteries any more than they already have been.

I rang up Sparkling and Rock Chick answered the phone. She's having a problem with her boyfriend. I can't recall what I last called him, but it was probably something along the lines of curly hair boy, however his hair has since been cut. So lets just call him the boyfriend. Rock is unhappy with him because he seemed to ignore her when he last visited. He is away during the week on a training course and comes back at weekends. Rock Chick's solution to the matter is to let him know he is out of order, she does this by ignoring him. Not replying to text messages and letting him know by thought transference and a previous telling off he is being a moody strop. Sparkling advised me the best cure for men is to have their balls cut off. This would apply to the boyfriend, and I'm sure it would apply to every other man on the planet as well. In response each time she mentioned cutting balls off, I said it was not the solution. But it really didn't matter much about what I said. I could hear the sound of a knife blade being sharpened. I think the boyfriend doesn't know what he's getting into if he is not being as nice as he should be to Rock Chick. I do so hope Rock sticks with the silent treatment first before taking on any of Sparkling's notions of how to deal with men. I wouldn't want Rock Chick getting a reputation. Or the nick name of "ball collector" no, no not this early in life. Later perhaps, after maybe 30 years but not at 16, it's too early. Mind, I've had the silent treatment, I know what it is like. It's quite nice actually, except for the door slamming. No, I shouldn't say such things. Anyway if the boyfriend don't watch it he'll be getting the big E instead. Life goes on Rock, there's always another frog to kiss round the corner.

Hopefully Sparkling sees me as a prince unless the spell has worn off. Must see if I can get another appointment with the Wicked Witch of East, she was useful. Though I did notice she to possessed some sharp utensils, and had five eunuchs waiting on her every desire.

Some Horse Chat

This evening I took Little Monster Boy out for a short walk. He had been cooped up all day so was near the point of bouncing off the walls. The plan was a little bit of football and a general wearing out of his internal battery. We chatted though not much, jumped on large rocks playing "had" and then went to feed some horses with handfuls of grass. Monster said he had never fed a horse before and so today he wanted to feed them. Then he told me what to do and I had to feed the horses first. I suppose it was a matter of getting his confidence up, but I did ask him what he'd do if one of my fingers got eaten off. He thought about it and didn't say much at all. Fortunately my fingers are still intact. The problem was once Monster got the hang of feeding one horse he wanted to feed each one we passed. There were perhaps half a dozen tethered to long metal link chains on the grass, each separated from the other. Some we fed, some we didn't, especially the large brown run who was trotting about in a feisty manner. He was bigger than me and because of his behaviour I thought it best not to try our luck. Whereas one of the smaller and younger horses accepted grass quiet readily from Monster but spat my handful out. For some reason he didn't like me but Monster boy was OK.

There was a man tending one of the horses and Monster wanted to feed this horse. So I said Monster would have to ask him for permission. There was of course no problem, so I spent some time chatting about the horses to him and was amazed to find out a few things: The eldest horse around he said was 61 years, however he was likely dead by now. Horses discriminate the grass they eat, sometimes they will leave certain patches of grass alone. They smell the grass and just will not touch it. On the subject of smell he told me about their water. There were pretty large containers available for each horse to drink from. I was told if a big dog peed up one of these containers and the urine splashed into the water the horse would refuse to drink from it because they could smell it. Neither would they eat hay which dogs had pissed on. Also I learnt when horses sleep, their joints lock up, being an idiot I didn't at first get this point it's because this way the horse will not fall over. In another discussion about giving birth I was informed when you see the front hoofs of a foal it is only a matter of ten to fifteen minutes to the foal is born. Immediately I knew a lot of mother's out there who would be amazed at the idea and wish it was true for humans as well. Then if a foal was coming out head first it was not good news. You'd have to wait for a moment when the mare was not pushing, put your arm into the mare find the forelegs and then pull them up. This is exactly what a vet would do in any course. Mostly though, he said the mares had their foals early in the morning and he'd just turn up and there they would be with their mother without the need of any intervention. I had quite an enjoyable chat. There were other aspects we talked about and I certainly learnt something from it.

Monster Boy asked the odd question one of which was whether horses were vegetarian. The man laughed and said he thought they were. I asked if Monster wanted to come up sometime with a chicken curry and see if the horses would like it. You never know, maybe it was why the big brown one was so feisty. But I wouldn't start on the Madras first, a straight curry would be ideal. As for the next morning, then I think I'd give these equine fellows a bit more space than normal.

An Easter smile but not from a teenager

When I look over my Easter weekend, the most enjoyable moments were those which involved Little Monster Boy. Especially, kicking a football around. He has this propensity to laugh uncontrollably when playing football. Trying to tackle him he would say to me "no tackling" then when I had the ball he'd say "tackling allowed." I would run after him and he enjoyed every second of being the one with the football keeping it away from me. The big smile and happy eyes he had was the highlight of my Easter. Even as I sit and write I have a smile on my face.

Sparkling has sprained a muscle in her back so will not be playing any kind of football at all. I feel sorry for her because Rock Chick has been demanding she have a night with her friends round, which could lead to a sleep over. This is unfair when Sparkling has work to consider or more so with her backache. Even though Rock Chick was told earlier evening parties would have to be restricted it's like the words have not gone into her brain. Personally, I've said to Sparkling all teenagers need to be put onto a desert island, with a tin of baked beans and a can open. Leave them there for ten years and then they can return back to society.

Teenagers don't have any conception of the responsibilities of living, paying bills, putting food on the table, and keeping the cat in biscuits. They can't understand if you have to be up for work in the morning how a bunch loud, happy go lucky, couldn't care less juveniles stop you from sleeping and how this will effect your ability to work. Which in turn could lead to a reprimand at work, or worse still even the sacking. It's the chain of repercussions teenagers can not get. They are lost in their own fantasy lands of what matters. Things which matter being social discourse with other teenagers, how good this blouse, shoes, or mascara looks. Who's hot and who's not. What music is cool, what is retro but cool and what is just rubbish. They focus nearly always on themselves and their conveniences, with little consideration of how their luxuries came about. As another saying goes, youth is wasted on the young. If only we could all be Benjamin Buttons.

Easter bunny gone

Easter is nearly over, yes the bunny has legged it and during this time I've realised a number of things. Firstly, chocolate Easter eggs don't taste the same as they used to taste. During eating one my teeth began to hurt and I then had some kind of dizzy spell come over me. Heart palpitation thing. So I can only put it down to being too old to eat Easter eggs in the first place, it serves me right. Secondly it's difficult finding what to do with your time. So I spent it watching TV programs and going out for a daily walk. The walks were perhaps the most valuable part of my Easter. At least I was doing something during the walks. Walking. Which is good for the exercise, heart, lungs those sorts of things, they enjoy walking. Though, I must add brain, yes, my brain enjoyed the walks as well. I used them inevitably to think, clear my head and record notes on my phone. On checking my phone I found I now have 29 audio notes. So maybe I'll begin my next Easter project and write them up. Which is more constructive than sitting watching TV. No wonder I'm getting fat.

Sparkling has been working hard these past few days. She seemed to think it was January when I last saw her, but it was March. I recall we saw the film Watchmen at the cinema and while I was there it rained a lot. It seems the last 2 or 3 times I've visited the weather has taken a turn and followed me. Fortunately we're over the cold spells, so now it's the raining overcast spells. When I say spells I don't mean as in wizard and witch spells, because those things don't exist. I mean as in short periods of a few days.

Last night we talked about having a holiday. Something away just to have a break and camping came up as an option. Although I can see Sparkling's enthusiasm, once she has been bitten by the wild life enough times I'm sure she'd prefer something inside. She also thinks it would be fun living rough off the land, smelling of the land, which meant not showering. I really do like her enthusiasm, but somehow not having a shower for a few days doesn't do anything for me. It's like going back this far to nature is a bit too far back. She is certainly right about one thing. We need a holiday. A break away and something on the cheap. With the recession and all, it will be a few more years before we get a chance to go abroad. Well whatever we do it will be fun. Going to have to get my head down and do some research. I wonder how far a fiver will get ya.

Hairdresser and chocolate

As the weather has taken a change for the better, I decided to hit the hairdressers after doing a hard day's graft. I got there late and as I waited there were 3 customers in front of me. Two were being attended the other awaited his turn. It seemed I was waiting in there at least an hour before I got my locks sheared. One of the barbers was slow. I felt sorry for the other guy who was pretty quick and efficient, he'd cut my hair before and I gave him the usual tip. He was faster as well. And now I look all trim and proper on top, he did such a good job I don't think it looks like I'm going bald at all. But then in the morning in a different light who knows what it will be like.

I got indoors after a pleasant walk and rang up Mrs Talkative, she had left instructions which were relayed to me. The next time she came to visit, give the children their birthday money or presents all at the same time. This annoyed me, I didn't react instantly though I could of, instead I just made tea then returned the phone call. I said birthdays are special days, the day of birth so you don't clump them altogether in one sitting. I kept calm, but had my I-am-not-accepting-this voice on. I also spoke with Princess Talkative and was surprised to actually get a real conversation out of her rather than single words like "alright" or "yes" or "no," she was funny. However, Princess Talkative had a gripe, because her favourite TV program wasn't on the telly all the time. She told me how she flicked through the channels and kept looking for it, but it just wasn't on when she wanted it to be. Awwe I thought. How children love to be instantly gratified by their needs. This proved to be true more so when I was told they had all already eaten their Easter eggs. They liked chocolate and couldn't help themselves, or rather they did help themselves and polished the lot off.

I love chocolate as well, but I'm still thinking about my over due appointment to be fixed with the dentist. Sparkling reminded me of this when she texted me her teeth had been polished up at the dentist. The reminder was like dying of a thousand cuts. I got to give them a ring, before they all drop out. Hopefully not.

Grand National loss and an atheisitc dilemma

The Grand National was on Saturday. The same day I had mate problems, but it didn't stop me from having a little flutter. I got home early and was able to watch it on the box. One of the horses I bet on was Stan, it was a tip from Sparkling but she did warn me saying it probably had 3 legs. When I turned the TV on the odds had changed from a few hours earlier. It had dropped from 100-1 to 50-1. One of the bookies said the punters were betting on everything, it was unpredictable. However, to his chagrin he made a prediction whoever the winner was going to be it would not be anything at 100-1. He got it so very wrong.

I realised this the moment there was a false start. I thought to myself this means the horses on long odds will have a better chance. Unfortunately at this moment I could barely run to the bookies and put another bet on. The start is an important part of a race, and all the good horses would have burnt themselves out a little by jostling for places and getting a good head start only to find it was to no avail. As I watched the race unfold another year passed and a few minutes later, not a single one of the 3 horses I bet on came in. I wouldn't mind I had also bet on a favourite. The winner was Mon mone, at 100-1; inside I was withering wrong again, another loss. Well it will probably be a year before I bet again. I hope so. I can't believe my luck.

Last night with some free time on my hands I checked out atheist groups. Although I am agnostic as more time passes I find myself tending towards the argument against belief. Especially because Dawin's theory of Natural Selection just is so credible. A simple but brilliant idea and a complete shift in thought at the time. Darwin by the way was a naturalist as a hobby rather than a vocation, his life was going to be planned out as a minister. It's odd how it went the other direction, but incredible.

Going back to atheism. I checked out some web sites to try and find if there was a group near to where I live. Nothing seemed local to me, but there were some things going on in central London. One of which was a talk happening at a hall. It looked pretty interesting. It was about women and their role in Islam. By a controversial ex Muslim woman I'm sure I had seen her talking on TV. I pondered on booking a seat which is in a couple of weeks time, only to find the event is sponsored by a gay and lesbian group. Which has kind of put me off going. For a couple of reasons. Firstly I have to ask does this mean I have to be gay to be able to go to the talk? Secondly, I don't want to be gay and or picked up because someone thinks I am gay. I then wondered about bringing along my older nephew. But another thought occurred to me, if I bought him along would this mean I'd be looked on as an older man with a young bit off stuff boyfriend. The whole thing now has got out of hand, going is a dilemma. I'm not gay, I don't want to be picked up and I don't want to be thought of as gay. Even being an atheist seems difficult in these circumstances. I can hear L & B man saying right now something unpleasant, and using a not very nice phrase.

Anyway I've revealed to Sparkling how I suddenly found myself out walking and talking to myself. Maybe I'm not as normal as I hoped I was. Decisions, decisions.

Little monsters, friends and vegetables

It has been a beautiful day. The sun came out early, so did the pigeons, it seems they don't take any day off. The weather report for the week is all down hill, except maybe for tomorrow.

Then Little Monster Boy was dropped off so I was his main source of entertainment. This meant going to the park and running around after him. There were no other children about until we left, and then two father's turned up with their little monsters. It was enjoyable, the entertainment free and the cost a Star Wars comic, crisps and Ribena drink. I'm sure when he get's to be twenty it will be more expensive and a push on the swings will be out of the question. It's amazing how nuts most of the family can be except for the children. Well, until they grow up, then they become as nuts as the rest of us.

Worse still are friends. Especially those long term ones who you find it an effort to continue the relationship with, because you don't want to step on their toes. I have in mind one of my mates as I write. He has let me down and now I'm at the point now I have decided not to have anything to do with him. For at least a few months. He doesn't like disputes and is unable to take any type of confrontation which he may feel is stressful. So when I have to talk to him about something I usually do it as gently and tactfully as possible. But seeing as I have now been let down one too many times it's over as far as I'm concerned. I was the the one who'd be ringing him up and trying to get him to do stuff. I can count on one hand the number of times he has felt a need to ring me within the last two or three years. So it's lopsided. He likes to be secluded, it's his choice so now he can be a little more secluded.

The problem is finding new friends, of which I'll freely admit this is one of my biggest issues. I just don't like having mates for the sake of having mates, there has to be some kind of connection. An enjoyment of their company, something to talk about. Some people have lots of friends but to me this sounds like they can't put up with their own company. Family you can't help, regardless of how crazy they are you can't change them. They will always be there, although it's not uncommon for them to split up and no longer communicate. So the question is how do you actually make new friends, important ones to yourself. People in the fish factory I've never really seen as friends, to me they have the status of work colleagues, it is formal and polite. Or in some cases not even polite but tolerated. Being in any kind of friendship with work colleagues feels to me like something to avoid, even if they are nice people. Maybe it's wrong, but I do my best not to include them in my life outside of this arena.

I hear Prince Charles talks to plants. Now this is a man who can have as many friends as he likes around him. But whether they are real is another question. Talking to green bushy plants might be a solution. As long as I don't have to say sorry to them when I need to give them a prune. Further if I chose to grow potatoes for instance, would they be upset at me digging them up out of the garden and eating a few every so often. They say there is nothing like your own vegetables. Yet these would be real vegetables not the one's who live in houses down the street and who's first name you know. Which of course would be an insult to the vegetable kingdom. Now I think of it, I will make it this year's project, carrots sounds good, even onions. Well I'd better get searching for some new friends, I mean seeds.

Teenagers have it easy

When I was a kid I recall growing up with my parents and adults around me saying how things were tough in their day. And today I know they were tough then. But I can also see myself saying to those teenager's or growing up little ones how easy they have got it and how tough I have had it. And this is of course all true, because every generation will have a better childhood given all other things are equal. Technology improves, life styles improve, food is freely available and music TV is on demand at the touch of a button. Whilst in my years the only music TV available was Top of the Pops and it was only on for half an hour once a week. Otherwise it would be a matter of listening to the radio and trying to tape record off the radio your favourite music, because it was expensive.

Sparkling said to me something which is quite true when talking about teenagers. It was, "you give them the world and they wont even do a dish," and if the future is what it is, they probably will have no need to, because highly sophisticated dishwashers will take the dishes after they have been finished with wash them, dry them and put them away. They exist today as well, but they're called parents.

Grass cutting on a Dime

Sparkling Eyes has given her grass a cut, the first real cut of the year. It's usually my job to do when I am around. I do enjoy Sparkling's garden, berrys here, apples there, and herbs in another place. I can't think of a better place to sit when the sun is out and it's either time for breakfast or it's mid afternoon and a cold beer waits. With Sparkling enjoying it as well. I sure hope she didn't get sun burn and covered up or put on sun screen. Oh yes, she has given me a job to do for the next time I am there. It involves climbing a ladder and removing a satellite dish from the front of the house. I'll scratch my head and wonder how it is going to be done also to wonder if Sparkling will hold the ladder while I climb up. Or whether I want her to hold the ladder.

I've taken to recording notes to myself on my phone. I spoke about this before in another blog. The great thing is I can talk into my phone as though I am really speaking to someone, but I'm not, I'm just making an audio note. About something I think is odd, something which annoys me, or something of interest. It doesn't matter what it is, I record the thoughts in my head into audio. Thing is when there are enough notes, what is the next step? And will they be of any use at all? At least if anyone sees me they will not think I am nuts, they will just think I'm talking into my phone. The next thing to do will be to write them all down. A bit like recording blogs as each day goes. I need a pet project and this could very well be part of my pet project. Note taking, writing them and then making sense of the lot.

At lunch time I overdosed on a chocolate bar called Dime. This would of been about the time Sparkling was cutting the grass. They were going cheap in the pound shop. I bought 4 for one pound. After lunch I felt dizzy, and worried the chocolate and caramel was too much, raising my blood sugar level. I even felt a little queasy, sick like. And for one short moment thought never eat another Dime bar again. Unbelievable I know. Fortunately it passed and I'm over it now, until the next time. Maybe I should of made a audio note, nah writing it here is enough.

Night all.

A vexatious dream and pigeons

I had a vivid dream this morning and woke up a bit moody because of it, but it was just a dream. I had decided to go and visit Sparkling. I turned up at her house and there in her front room were two men, one she said was a cousin. As I looked at the cousin I could see a resemblance around the jaw, I don't know why it just seemed to stand out. The other man was someone I recognise from the Fish Factory, I didn't know why he was there and didn't question it either. which is odd in itself. Sparkling looked at me in surprise and then acted annoyed. Yes, she was annoyed I was there. I couldn't understand her reaction. I thought to myself why is she acting this way towards me. Then considered how I would react if she turned up suddenly at my house, I'd be surprised yes, but pretty happy, ecstatic even. As it was still morning and I was waking up I carried this feeling around with me and in some kind of illogical way though to myself, OK I am going to ring her up and have it out. The realness of the dream had taken over my senses to the point I couldn't tell it was a dream thing. How could my logic react in this way when I was completely awake, well nearly complete but not. Still stumbling about and not having had breakfast or a cup of tea. Taking a moment I consciously said it was just a dream and did my best to shake it off. But shaking off a feeling takes a little effort and maybe twenty to thirty minutes of effort in this case.

The morning continued in light of the stolen hour. I realised going to bed early isn't such a good thing because it makes you get up early. As there were no fish knives available today at the factory very little was going to get done, so it would of paid to get up later. However, I took the waking up process slow, and cursed the boiler which is now taking an hour to produce tepid warm water. I'm going to have to give my plumber a ring, although he's reasonable I sure hope he can fix it and I don't lose an arm or leg to the finance. I'll get round to it in the next day or so, depending how much I can endure the tepid nature of morning ablutions.

Again the roof tiles are cluttering and I know the pigeons or birds under them are getting up just as daylight peaks over the eastern horizon. If only the birds could worry about tepid water, or broken tiles or being given the brush off by Sparkling. The cats got thrown out by big moma before I'd fully emerged which was one good thing, maybe they could return after pigeon pie. Unfortunately they didn't. Nearly forgot, the dentist as sent me a letter, not the type with love and kisses but the type which says open up wide and lets have a look at those molars. Pigeons have beaks, they don't have molars or canines or incisors. Pigeons just peck, and clatter the roof tiles. I wonder if Sparkling has got any ideas? After of course I've had a word abouther turfing me out in my dream and not being happy at seeing me.

Now, why is it I keep hearing the words "everything is connected?" It wouldn't surprise me if Sparkling had trained the pigeons to wake me up. Well at least they haven't pooped on me, not yet anyway. I'll save this thought for another dream.