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Tuesday, 22 July 2014

The 5 things I hate to do...

Now whilst I love the fact that I am totally independent, there are always going to be things that I groan about having to do alone.

I know that they have to be done and that there is no escaping them, yet they always fill me with dread. They bother me more than I can say.

I am sure that I am not the only one who procrastinates about 'those jobs' around the house; like fixing broken bedroom curtain poles or wobbly chairs, however there are just some jobs in my life that irritate me beyond belief and I will do anything to put them off...

1) Fixing bikes - really? Your tyres need pumping, your brakes are loose and your seat needs replacing? That wasn't in the small print when I signed the form to commit to a house full of boys... where the heck is Grandpa when I need him?

2) Filling the car up with petrol. I surely can't be the only one who hates this job? My car fuel light flashes at me angrily -
      'Feed me! Feed me now!'
      'Oh sod off, surely you have a few more miles left in you?'
      'Nope,' cough, cough splutter, 'Need food - must be fresh!'
It isn't even the paying for petrol that bothers me, it is the whole arse about pulling into a petrol station, blah blah bollocks... it is laziness I know, but also time - I always get in the car to go somewhere, I don't want the inconvenience of having to pull into somewhere, I have places I need to be...
Therefore I feel we need drive through petrol stations or even better, something that Air Force One has when in flight. I could be driving down the motorway when a big tanker pulls up alongside and just tops me up. Sorted!

3) Mowing the lawn. The long grass in my garden taunts me every two weeks. Every two weeks, seriously? My bloody hair doesn't need cutting that often, although it might do if I stood in the rain and sun more frequently. My lawn looks like wild unkempt hair and waves at me,
    'Oy, you...stop for a moment and look at my long tresses of unkempt blades of grass...don't I look messy again?'
    'I only mowed you last week, you bugger - you need more attention than a newborn!'
    'Oh and look, those weeds you dug out last week? They're back too - look!'
To make it worse, my neighbour is obsessed with cutting his lawn - which only seems to make mine gloat even more...

4) Fending off imaginary would be intruders. Unsurprisingly, this a) doesn't happen very often, and b) I truly hate doing this on my own. Doors slamming in the night from the wind can see me sitting in the dark with my heart pounding, clutching my baseball bat ready and mobile, with finger poised over 999 waiting for a potential intruder who may walk in... which of course they never do. However just the potential thought of it makes me feel vulnerable... and unnecessarily angry.

Last but not least, number 5)
 Seeing my children leave at the airport for their summer holiday. It is gut wrenching to wave goodbye to them as they leave to spend time with their father. It is the worst thing ever and if I could procrastinate about that - they would never leave my side.

Tuesday, 8 July 2014

So long and thanks for the salad cream...

I am in love.

It has finally arrived...and it is a beautiful thing.

Oh alright not quite in love but certainly an element of lust. The feelings sneaked up on me a little bit when I wasn't really paying them any notice. Today however, I realise I am in lust with the man who works in the local supermarket.

Don't worry Dad, he is not permanent relationship material, but he is quite cute and is certainly worth popping in to the local supermarket for; to while away the hours while I take a sneaky peek at him through the freshly made (on premises) baguettes and to admire his muscular physique as he replenishes the low milk stocks with ease.

We have spoken on many occasions my supermarket man and I, as he has commented on my excellent choice of fresh fruit, suggested items from the deli and we have even had that relationship seal making debate on the virtues of Salad cream Vs Mayonnaise...


I have come to the very satisfactory conclusion that I absolutely love being single, however there is the odd occasion when one's eye wanders a little bit and a little lustful demon pops up to say hello.

Pootle agrees with me...she has a lustful demon too and watches road workers from the safety line of her injunction limits.
"Just ask him out for a drink," She tells me boldly.
"Oh yes, can you imagine the silence that will ensue after that...'Fancy a drink?' Long pause followed by tumbleweed flowing down the aisle."
"Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't be that brave either."

It is a shame really, that even in these modern times that we feel embarrassed to ask. After all, what harm is there? I would feel flattered if someone asked me, it is nice to feel attractive to someone else...well, unless he was from the Manson Family...regardless of whether you say yes or no.

So alas I will go back to watching, as being so brave as to ask someone for a drink is not in my forte. I will watch him from afar whilst he stocks shelves, rips cardboard boxes with aplomb and hopefully one day we will laugh over Salad Cream again...