Tuesday, December 15, 2009

It's cold said Tinkerbell then she helped herself to my ginger wine

The weather has taken a turn, it's maybe 2 to 4 degrees Celsius. Each exhale produces a fog. While I see from the weather forecast it's about 7 degrees in Scotland. They got it easy for once. This is odd because it seemed to me when I looked at the weatherman's map it was London which specifically was getting chilled. Like the Wicked Witch of the South had been casting a spell and sacrificed a few newts tails into the cauldron. It's working, we might even get snow tomorrow. Snow. Yes the white stuff. Dire weather calls for drastic actions, my NY baseball cap just isn't keeping me warm enough so I added the hood to my coat. If it snows tomorrow I'll think about the Ushanka hat. Even though Sparkling has warned me not to wear it. There is one thing I have learnt which is true when it comes to cold weather. You can get away with anything, because fashion goes out the window as fast as a fart in a fan factory. (I know, I just mixed my cliches).

Yesterday I had a headache or rather a migraine, I'd went to bed with it and woke up with it so therefore by this definition I call it a migraine. It lasted about 18 hours all told. But seeing as work in the Fish Factory is quite monotonous and most gutters were doing their own thing I just sat and rubbed my head, hopping I'd massage the thing away. It did eventually go. Sparkling sent me a text today and has told me she is ill and had to go to bed after drawing a bath. She said she caught it off me. I hope it wasn't the migraine, it probably wasn't. It's probably the flu or a cold, a woman cold. Which would be really bad. Because man colds are nothing according to women. Men colds are something we get because we men are weak and not as strong as a woman. It may well be true i think. Then I did read something a long time ago which said men do actually suffer more when they get a cold or flu. It was all down to hormones and apparently the woman hormone estrogen I think helps to alleviate symptoms. However, I can see a whole bunch of women saying this is absolute nonsense. I don't know, all I know is when I get sick it hurts.

I take a sip from a small glass of ginger wine. Nice although just a little sweet and it could do with a bit more of a kick. Chrimbo is coming. Maybe it's why the weather has changed, Santa is checking on his reindeer, the elfs are busy. And the even bigger elves (parents) do the wrapping. I spend an hour wrapping earlier. In fact it was almost exactly one hour. It was like there was some kind of internal clock which said "time is up buddy." I was approaching brain dead, I'd nearly stuck my own mouth shut with sellotape. Then while folding out wrapping paper and using very sharp scissors I got a cat's whisker from cutting an item I was wrapping. It was the point I began to hear Tinkerbell shake her magic dust over an item I realised enough was enough. Alternatively it could of been tinnitus or some semi zombie state. No I'll go with the Tinkerbell explanation, because it's the right time of year. I can get away with it now, but any other time I wouldn't. It just could be poor old Tinkerbell felt the cold as well and came in to keep herself warm. Just maybe she'd like some ginger wine, well it could snow tomorrow. I see now, she's shaking her magic dust a bit haphazardly, she's already had half my glass. I hope she doesn't become an alcoholic.

With luck I might not get as fat as Santa this Chrimbo. I wonder if he has got high blood pressure or diabetes. Or whether he goes crazy and goes on a cabbage soup diet after Chrimbo. Which can't really be much good for him at all. Unless he's built differently and likes the taste of cabbage. Which reminds me I still have a jar of Sauerkraut in the fridge. Seriously though, he'd better watch it, in today's age, were Santa to see his GP he'd be termed morbidly obese. They'd check his cholesterol and maybe ask him not to march the dirt from his boots int the surgery. Well it is Chrimbo and he always gets left mince pies. Damn, I like mince pies to, don't eat too many Santa.

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