Cold weather and the wrath of a pregnant woman

OK it's the 3.04.13. and now a case of being completely and utterly fed up with the weather. Spring has began and there are still snow flurries in parts of south east England.  It is crazy, this morning as waking up I took a look out of the window and there was frost on the cars. If this is global warming I don't know what global bloody freezing looks like. Everybody is wrapping up with extra clothes, although there are some idiots who don't wear coats, I'm sure the cold will catch up with them. As I waited for a train to work there was one African man who was in a suit and he had a jumper on underneath his jacket. It looked odd. But there was no coat. I'm a native of this country and I'm feeling the cold so come this evening he will be shivering for sure. It is a fact, those populations who are indigenous to a country or continent are physically better suited to it. There are even some morning when I leave the house and it's zero degrees but I feel it's not cold. The cold is more determined by the wind. It cuts through and is worse than a cold day by itself.  I've had enough. If shouting up at the sky made the sun come out and warmed everything up I'd be out there like a crazy man shouting up at the sky and waving my fist. Some days it feels like I just can't get warmed up, even at night in bed I'm not sleeping well. If I go to bed with cold feet it takes hours before they warm up and then it's morning and time to get up for work. Call me a bloody Eskimo, is all I can say. I'll go out seal hunting tomorrow so had better prepare the huskies tonight. I could do with a polar bear coat, an artificial one because I'm a green Eskimo and don't want to upset anyone. I'm just absolutely bloody pissed off with it.

I spoke to Rock Chick the other night, she is getting fatter and fatter. Standing up for hours while working is now not an option. The weight on her pelvis is just too much, but otherwise she seems to be a pretty happy and pregnant. I'm not sure if Dangerous is quite on the ball with it all though. It's lucky Rock is there to tell him what to do and keep him updated. Dangerous is the kind of person who is late to everything. He likes his bed, he likes talking, he likes food, he loves Rock and Babyfro, and his life is so going to change. I know he will do a great job, but I expect there will be a big maturity injection once Babyfro is here. After all, he's had the easy bit so far. Poor Rock Chick carrying growing Fro about and dealing with hormone swings, up and down and round about. Rock told me how one evening when Dangerous had gone out and promised to be back early how she rang him at 2 a.m. to find he was still at his friend's house. He still had not actually understood the message, when Rock says get home early she means it. As a consequence Rock rang him up. The conversation which took place was probably from a clear headed sobre Rock and a slightly drunk Dangerous, the worse thing was he began to wind Rock up, as though to be playful. But at 2 a.m. in the morning Rock didn't feel like laughing. She then went out to find a paper craft model Dangerous had made. It had taken months and was a labour of love. She took a knife to the model, which was also the model of a knife and began to cut it up into pieces and binned it. Dangerous is slow so it took him a couple of days to realise his beautiful labour of love was  missing. Rock said she'd thrown it away and dopey Dangerous just accepted it. Mind I wonder what Dangerous would of though if he'd seen her deliberately mutilating the model and smiling as she dropped the fragments into a bin. Moral of story, never get on the wrong side of a pregnant woman, and never get on the wrong side of Rock Chick. I must admit she enjoyed telling the tale. I wonder if Dangerous will learn the lesson, but for some reason I doubt he has the capacity.

My affair with Bertha continues, I love giving her a strum and when I get round to singing can't help laugh at my inability to keep to time, sound any good or know what I'm doing. I'm sure the more practice the better I'll get. I spend many evenings just strumming her strings and not even bothering to learn new stuff it's relaxing and different from anything else I have ever done. It's like being on a journey and just ambling along not worried about how long it will take to get wherever it is I'm going. All I know is with each practice session, over time I'll improve. I smile, and when I pull Bertha out of her case sometimes I speak to her gently. I hope it doesn't mean I'm nuts. We have a connection. However, I will say I'm a little disappointed with the A string second fret. She buzzes now and again and if can spoil the session. Talking about sessions. Last weekend I saw Monster Boy and we had a jamming session. He got Hilda out, I got Bertha out and we strummed. Mind I don't think he has the same dedication.  It didn't matter because it was a good time we both had. He said he enjoyed it. All I can say is never get between a man and his Ukulele, it's a personal thing.