Well it looks like the weather is changing, though I've probably already said this in an earlier BLOG. There is definitely the aura of a chill in the air. It's not frosty quite yet, nearly but not quite. And for some reason I still keep hearing forecasts of snow. Yes the lovely white stuff, not to be confused with the other white narcotic stuff which gets people high and kills them. No, though this cold snow can kill, especially if you slip in it and smack your head. Or indirectly slip in it break, a bone then get some blood disease, blood clot or other debilitating illness. Heck, at this rate maybe I should stop calling it lovely white stuff. Sound more like pretty dangerous white stuff. Anyway to make a short intro on the weather a little longer, lets just say it's getting cold.
I have been making some notes in the back of my diary. Just brief one line descriptions. These are subjects which could be used in writing a blog, but seeing as my diary is downstairs in my coat and I can't be bothered here is another winging it piece. Hopefully not flying through the air after slipping on snow and winging it. Generally when I go out of the door in the morning I try to remember something which might happen. I listen to the news and wonder if I can use a topic which comes up on the radio. During the day I hear conversations and contemplate whether they are interesting or not. Then in the evening I sit here and try to compose. Like a great composer. Or not so great. I wonder if I have writer's block, but then think well can I consider myself a writer at this point. I also contemplate just maybe I am uninteresting.
It doesn't actually horrify me being uninteresting, because I like to lead an uninteresting steady existence with few problems. Except my pet hates or those problems thrown at me by others. I don't mean to say I hate pets at all. Just I have hates over little things which wind me up, but those things are not worth writing about. Actually they are, but not in this blog. Then at other times I get chastised by Sparkling because I am so boring and I don't have all the stresses and strains she has in her life. After which I spend time listen to her wind ups of the day and wonder how dare these people wind up Sparklig. I have different problems. However, maybe I just do my best not to let some stresses and strains get to me. Usually because I think when I do let then they have power, but if I say "NO" this thing isn't going to get to me I can forget it. Or tackle it as constructively as possible. Rationalise, plan, adapt, improvise, overcome. Just like Cling Eastwood in one of his marine army movies. Unless I begin to start moaning and groaning about it to others. Just like a soap opera character. Which I do sometimes, or worse still hear other people incessantly moan. This is when I find it wonderful just to sit in piece and quite, when there are no longer people around me who are moaning. Maybe I should of joined the circus and been a clown. Then I'd only groan about falling over my feet, making sure my nose was red enough and nobody pilfered my make up. The white make up stuff. The stuff as white as snow. A bit like the shade of a zombie. Whitish or pallid perhaps.
So what can I say nothing much comes to mind today. I'll just go out in the garden and wait for it to snow.
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