Names and words

This morning I sat wondering how long it had been since I had seen Sparkling. Checked the diary and counted off the weeks. Three. Three weeks and it feels like longer. Sparkles seems to be constantly in demand at her new job, but at the same time she is happy and enjoying each moment of it. She is loved at the cake factory. I got her a badge because she had aquired a nick name. Mrs Slocum. So I ordered it online and it has the name Mollie on it, after the actress who played the part in the comedy series called "Are You Being Served." I'm not sure I like the idea of dating Mrs Slocum, luckily I'm no Mr Peacock. I just don't have the height. But I can't help it, call her Sparkling, Mrs Slocum or simply Molly, I'm missing my honey.

I did something odd this morning and formatted my MP3 player thereby wiping off all the music on it. Well you have to have a clean sweep every now and again. I then spent the next hour or so putting music back on. But this time I chose 90 per cent music I hadn't heard a great deal off. OK there's the odd favourite on there, a couple of albums of Bob Newheart and some classic jazz classics which never die in my mind, and hopefully most other peoples minds as well. I'm listening to one of the albums now actually. Except not on the usual headphones I use on account of Mrs Slocum deciding she had to appropriate them because her ones had gone walk about. It's an album by Mr Buble, pronounced Boooblay. Why on earth should someone have a surname of Buble and say it's Boooblay I don't know. Which reminds me of a comedy program with a Mrs Bucket, who used to pronounce her name as Bookay. It's all in a name. Or rather they'd rather not have the name they were born with so plagarise it into something else. I'm a right one saying this. Not that I change the pronounciation of my own name. But I have a tendency every so often of pronouncing other words differently from the norm. A bit like the song about potatoe or potarto, or tomatoe or tomateyoe. In the end it's about understanding and everybody knowing what everybody else means even if the words are pronounced differently.

This Mr Buble isn't too bad. Mrs Slocum loves him, typical. Young, handsome, good voice, and looks sexy. Hey, I could be talking about myself.