Wednesday, November 29, 2006

All by myself

M is away again, until Friday night.

I wonder why this job ever seemed like a good idea. I'm not sure it did actually; I think he took it because it seemed we didn't have much time to think about it and rejecting a promotion is counter-intuitive.

I think he should have stayed doing what he was and I should have started pursuing my own career.

However. Here we are.


I managed to stand on a lorry yesterday. Unfortunately I was stepping over something else so when my foot went down, it was full weight and there was no chance to pull back. It bled most excitingly and I swore most vilely. Blood blood everywhere! And that marvellous throbbing sensation, where you become aware of your own pulse and the blood being pumped round your body, and it feels concentrated at the wound. It was right before the school run, as well, so hurriedly trying to clean myself up and staunch the flow was just what I needed.

The lorry was OK, in the manner of lorries generally. Toy or full-size, they win their battles against flesh.

I have a limp now. I don't know whether I'm being a big wuss or whether I actually need to limp. :D

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Thinking, feeling cetaceans?

"Whales may share our kind of intelligence, researchers say after discovering brain cells previously found only in humans and other primates.
They were touted as the brain cells that set humans and the other great apes apart from all other mammals. Now it has been discovered that some whales also have spindle neurons – specialised brain cells that are involved in processing emotions and helping us interact socially.
Spindle cells, named after their long, spindle-shaped bodies, are the cells that are credited with allowing us to feel love and to suffer emotionally. Their discovery in whales will stimulate debate both on the level of whale intelligence and on the ethics of hunting them.
The cells occur in parts of the human brain that are thought to be responsible for our social organisation, empathy, speech, intuition about the feelings of others, and rapid “gut” reactions."

This article certainly has further implications for the morality of whaling (Link in the title).


It's curious that I would place even more importance on preventing whaling, having this possibility of these animals being an intelligent lifeform.

Animal rights? The more intelligent a creature, the more it's worth? I guess it's a position predicated on the intrinsic value of our own species, but then, it's only natural to have a human-centric outlook when you're a human. :D

Monday, November 27, 2006

Hey teacher! Leave those kids alone!

I find this story most alarming today. I had always thought of the creationist/ID vs evolution debate as being mostly a US thing.

Spin it how they like, ID is not science. I have no objection to it being discussed in R.E. classes.

I have a huge massive ginormous humungous problem with it being taught in science lessons.

I find the ArchBishop of Canterbury's take on it (from March) interesting:
"I think creationism is ... a kind of category mistake, as if the Bible were a theory like other theories ... if creationism is presented as a stark alternative theory alongside other theories I think there's just been a jarring of categories ... My worry is creationism can end up reducing the doctrine of creation rather than enhancing it," he said.

Splish splash

It rained a lot over the last few days and nights. There was soot and water coming down the chimney, and the road up the hill had a riverlet hurtling past our front gate. Everytime I stuck my nose outside, it started to pour.

But on Sunday we had a beautiful day, and we went for a family ramble. (Well, minus M, as he was having to catch up on his paperwork). Some of the paths were more like streams but we had a good time. T got soaked paddling through every puddle and stretch of water he could find and S collected interesting stones. :)

That's a path, that is.

Friday, November 24, 2006


I'm borrowing this from Stegbeetle, who had it from someone else, who had it from someone else. :D


1. Yourself: nervy
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse): stressed
3. Your hair: itchy
4. Your mother: away
5. Your father: dead
6. Your favorite item: PC
7. Your dream last night: forgotten
8. Your favorite drink: wine
9. Your dream car: Beetle
10. The room you are in: living-room
11. Your ex: forgotten
12. Your fear: failure
13. What you want to be in 10 years? secure
14. Who you hung out with last night? husband
15. What you're not? patient
16. Muffins: fattening
17. One of your wish list items: roller-blades
18. Time: flies
19. The last thing you did: dog-walking
20. What you are wearing: skirt
21. Your favorite weather: windy
22. Your favorite book: Catch-22
23. The last thing you ate: toast
24. Your life: persists
25. Your mood: changeable
26. Your best friend: distant
27. What are you thinking about right now? swimming
28. Your car: dodgy
29. What are you doing at the moment? thinking
30. Your summer: fun
31. Your relationship status: married
32. What is on your TV? news
33. What is the weather like? raining
34. When is the last time you laughed? today

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Cross about crosses?

I understand better why it is so important to the woman concerned in the BA crucifix controversy, for her to wear a cross. She is a Coptic Christian with an Egyptian background.

This is significant because there are historic & current tensions between the Coptic Christian and Islamic population in Egypt. In 2005, there was a riot in which 3 Coptics were killed and a nun stabbed, following the showing of an anti-Islamic play at their church. Some of the Coptics have the Coptic cross tattooed on the inside of their wrist so that there is no possibility of them hiding their religion in everyday life. To me, this changes things slightly and I have more sympathy for her position.

However, I can see BA's point, as well. If jewellery is to be worn under the clothes for the company's image (and possible health and safety), you can't make exceptions. Hmmm. Most/all airlines have strict dress codes.

I wonder what BA's rules are about tattooes? (I expect visible ones would be a no-no).
I wonder why the cross she wants to wear is not the Coptic one? (I suppose they vary a bit).

I find the Daily M#!l exasperating. They continue to say "banned" when it is "concealed".

And in their Tuesday edition, they had the ArchBishop of York's comments as their front page ("Nonsense" is the title if you care), but felt the need for a sub-heading about his country of origin. How on earth is that relevant? Ooh look, a black ArchBishop: how can he be of York?! Is that what they're saying? Grummock.

Dr Sentamu's comments seemed a bit overboard to me, since BA's decision is scarcely undermining British heritage and the British don't actually owe a lot to Coptic Christianity. He also says "banned" when it's "concealed". All a bit over-played, if you ask me.

I do sympathise with Ms Ewedia's position more than I did, but since she has been offered other work with BA where she wouldn't have to conceal her cross, or she could wear the cross but keep it covered while on duty, I don't really think she's being treated as badly as is being made out.

Teach me to look at the Daily Hate.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

A god-shaped hole?

An intriguing question that has been posed, under the assumption that everyone has a god-sized hole in their psyche. I'm prepared to entertain the question, but I don't feel an absence. I feel no hole, I feel pretty whole :D.

Maybe I've filled it with something else? Maybe I've filled this alleged hole with something else, as suggested. What do I worship?

Haha, don't think so. I'm pretty well aware of my faults, and although I'm at the point of quite liking myself most of the time, worship is way off. There are lots of people smarter than me, funnier than me, more interesting than me, just plain nicer than me. (There are also people nastier, just so you don't think I've got a downer on myself).

I enjoy learning about the natural world and thinking about questions raised and theories suggested. Do I think it solves everything? No. There is still so much to learn about so many things. We're still discovering new species, for goodness sake. Does it always get everything right? No, scientists can be fallible and sometimes self-important, mistakes get made, all is subject to review. I see that as quite a positive thing, actually, the review part.

My husband?
Maybe, at one time, during the infatuation stage of the relationship. But now, no. Bloody love the bugger tho... It's hard to worship someone who piddles on the toilet seat.

Celebrities/famous figures?
Erm, I've never sent a fan-letter or got anyone's autograph or anything like that. Which is a shame really, as I daresay it's nice to have. I can appreciate people's achievements, talents or physical beauty but I can't think of anyone I hero-worship or have ever hero-worshipped... As a teen, I was a fan of various bands, and I remember being quite perturbed by Kurt Cobain's suicide. I identified with the music. I admire quite a few authors' writing. And Johnny Depp (only as Captain Jack Sparrow, you understand) is a bit phwoooar. I might watch their movie/read their book/see someone live but I don't have much interest in the person outside of their art. I tend to know very little about them.

And fade...

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

On borrowing a dog

My mum's dog is nice to have on loan, while she is on holiday. She delves around for crumbs and clears up left-overs. Which saves on hoovering. Unfortunately she won't eat pine needles, of which we seem to have millions invading the house. I thought pine were evergreen! Maybe it's not pine. In fact, I'm damned sure it's not. However... never let a fact get in the way of a good rant, that's what I always say. Well, actually, as I tell M, I never always do or say anything! So there.

I don't think I'd want a dog all the time, as I'm constantly tripping over her, and instead of there being two children standing in the doorway I'm trying to get through with the shopping, there are two children and a dog. I'm also not keen on the poo clearing up aspect. But she is great fun, and lovely and gentle with the kids. Maybe when the children are older, it would be nice to have one. At the moment, it feels like an extra responsibility I don't need, although for a few weeks it's OK. :)

I'm very much on my own at the moment, with M away working and Mum on holiday. It's a bit gloomy to tell the truth. Still he'll be back on Wednesday night, I think.

Monday, November 20, 2006

A peculiar bird is the pelican

I was walking home from my Mum's when I saw a huge tropical bird, it was ostrich sized but more of a stork shape and had a pelican-esque beak. It was wandering the road, looking forlorn. It seemed friendly but I was still quite wary of it, thinking its beady little eyes were considering whether I might taste of fish. I managed to direct it into the pony field. When I shut the gate behind it, it fluffed up its cream coloured feathers and seemed happy enough to wander around the enclosure.

I started walking, wondering how to find its owner, and climbed the hill, where I saw a circus in the neighbouring field. It was an old-fashioned circus with animal acts. As I approached, I saw a man, who seemed to be in charge. I explained to the ring master that I thought I'd found a bird from the circus and he told me it must have got loose when they took the animals to water in the pony field. I headed off to bring him the bird, thinking I would lead it with a bit of string around its neck, only to find it wasn't there. I ran to my mum's intending to get a search party started, and worrying that the bird could fly after all, rather than being flightless as I had assumed. When I talked to mum, I discovered that she had called animal rescue. They knew where the bird had escaped from and had already come to take the bird away.

The ring master had lied!

Gonna send you home to momma in a cardboard box

I've just been reading about Human Rights Watch's report on Saddam Hussein's trial.

I don't agree with the death penalty full stop. If killing is wrong, then state-sanctioned killing cannot be right. Even when it is someone like Hussein who committed and/or ordered atrocities, killing him brings us down to his level, if you see what I mean.

I'm also worried about the martyrdom factor, and if what HRW says is true, it can only increase the likelihood of him becoming some kind of symbol.

Allegedly he has been obstructed from appeal, while the trial itself was "marked by frequent outbursts by both judges and defendants.
Three defence lawyers were murdered, three judges left the five-member panel and the original chief judge was replaced.
Defence lawyers boycotted proceedings but HRW said court-appointed counsel that took their place lacked adequate training in international law.
In addition, important documents were not given to defence lawyers in advance, no written transcript was kept and paperwork was lost, said HRW.
The defence was also prevented from cross-examining witnesses and the judges made asides that pre-judged Saddam Hussein. "

It's all very depressing.

Diary of a dungbeetle

I have delved, and been victorious! And I only had to investigate one bin-bag, and only half-way down, so it wasn't the horror I imagined. I did manage to puncture a little hole in my thumb with some broken glass, and revisit the corpses of some stinky nappies* I had hoped never to see again, but it was well worth it.

I have now put my precious train tickets in a drawer where hopefully they can reside unmolested until the happy day of my journey. :D

*I feel the need to defend my use of disposable nappies, and will do so forthwith. We have no washing machine or access to a laundrette. There you go. :D

Hairy fairy

A middle-aged man, dressed as a fairy, has been giving out lottery tickets, paying for people's lunches and shopping in Cornwall.

What a nice fellow. :D

Sunday, November 19, 2006

The perils of housework

We did some serious cleaning and tidying yesterday and it's like a weight has lifted. It's not that the house was filthy or anything, but it was cluttered, and every surface was loaded with thingie things. It feels nice now.

But tomorrow I have to open those binbags of discarded thingie things and hope to find my blasted train tickets. Oh fuck! (Sorry for the language, but it's justified). The tickets for my planned jaunt to London, the tickets for the first night I've had away in ages. Did I throw them out in a moment of crass stupidity? I can't find them right now, so it seems likely.

So I'll be the mad woman delving through bin-bags tomorrow morning. And T has had lots of vile nappies today, so it's going to be the most fun a dungbeetle could have.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Nac Mac Feegle

I've read two of the books I got the other day. Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett and Sue Grafton's S for Silence. I don't think I was concentrating properly on either, so a second reading is in order. I enjoyed the Pratchett very much. I like the stories of the Nac Mac Feegle, but my favourites are the Watch books.

Coincidentally, I am reading the Wee Free Men to S and T at night, which gives me the opportunity to adopt a horrendous imitation of a Scottish accent for some of the dialogue. I visualise the Nac Mac Feegle as small blue Billy Connollys. :)

Thursday, November 16, 2006


Half Past Dead was on telly last night and I watched some of it with M. Not a lot, although as is usual, M watched the whole thing. I think he is physically unable to switch off movies: his finger will not move to press that button.

Steven Seagal has a massive head, it looks to me like a latex mask. I wonder who would be under it, if you pulled it off รก la Scooby Doo. (You meddling kids). We call him Fat-head. It's not exactly the most amusing or inspired nickname, but it suffices: "Fat-head's on telly, " say I. "Oh right, " says he, switching over to it. (M likes action flicks, even if they are rubbish with Fat-head in them :D)

Once I saw a film with him in it where he was making movie-whoopee with a lady (please read with Little Britain voice). Yikes. More stomach-churning than titillating.

Talking of "romantic" scenes that make me want to hurl... One of the kissing scenes in XXX with Vin Diesel, I can't bear with all the tongue and and gulping. He's going to eat her face off, he really is! Ewwww. I have to look away at that point.

The horror, the horror!

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Time flies

An interesting article about the way the brain works with regard to time.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Get orf moi land!

I spent some of this afternoon cutting down sycamore saplings.

I don't feel particularly great about that, but when it's a choice between the pony's grazing and growing myself a small wood, unfortunately the wood has to face the blade. A copse wouldn't provide enough nutrition for him, and anyway it's not my land to grow a wood on, even if I wanted to.

But I still feel a small irrational guilt about it.

The field is in an awful mess; it really needs a rest, feeding, and a bladed strimmer thingy to hack down the undergrowth that is trying to creep in. It's amazing how fast nature will grab back what we have taken. But resting it is just not possible as I don't have anywhere else to put the pony at the moment. In the Spring, it'll be worth dividing the land into two or three bits to let some recover, but for now I think that there's less impact with having him use the whole lot. He's in good condition for the winter tho, with a nice woolly coat. :D


It was an interesting weekend.

On Friday night, I had yet another stomach episode: is this IBS? I'm not sure, but it's bloody horrible. (I've got a doctor's appointment on Monday). I needed two hot water bottles that night, instead of just the one. Luckily I have two, one a bit floppy that curves round my stomach and one stiffer one that rests against my back. They have to be extremely hot to give any relief. It went on for ages and I was in no fit state for much of anything for most of Saturday.

But in the afternoon M and I went into town, and bought me some books with my book token. I got the 101 Incredible Experiments for the Shed Scientist, which sounds like fun: making slime and rockets and solar batteries. I don't have a shed but I don't suppose it's vital :D. I can always borrow Mum's garage. It looks like there'll be things to try with S (and T as he gets older).

I also got Sue Grafton's S is for Silence. I wonder what she'll do for Z and X? I hope she doesn't resort to X is for eXecution or something like that :D. It has to be crime-related, even if tenuously, so it makes it pretty difficult.

And finally I got Dawkins' Selfish Gene. I was tempted by his new one The God Delusion, but at £20 in the shop, it was a bit blooming steep. The voucher was for £20, so I could get a couple of books for that instead. I see if it hits library shelves anytime soon, and if not, wait for it in paperback.

In the evening, we mooched about, ate Chinese and watched DVDs. The Chinese was a bit of a cheat, in that we bought it from Marks & Sparks, but it was very pleasant. We had sticky chilli chicken, crispy aromatic duck and spring rolls: yummy. But the cucumber supplied with the duck made us laugh: it was a little bit of a stingy portion. :D

The box instructed us to chop it into batons. #Cackle#.

For DVDs we had chosen Mission Impossible 3 (despite Cruise. Bloik!) and The Weather Man. The latter was an impulse by me, and a bit of a mis-step. For some reason I was expecting it to be funny, and it was not. Or not very often. And Nicholas Cage, who is sometimes strangely intriguing to me, had floppy hair and I didn't like that. M hated it and I found it hard-going: we weren't looking for anything to make us think or anything bleak, and this film was more in the thinky-bleak category. Oh well.

Mission Impossible 3 - well, I don't know what that's like - the wrong DVD was in the case and we had acquired Fun with Dick and Jane, a Jim Carrey film, by mistake. It was quite funny. Hopefully we'll get to watch Mission Impossible 3 for free now.


Well, I have moved over to blogger-beta, and it's all very alarming. We fear change.

It seems to have republished my whole blog. When I looked at Splee's blog today, and then went on to look to see what was interesting in his friends' page, it was dominated by me me me me me me. Which amused (and slightly embarrassed) me. Not that I had anything to do with it, apart from going over to the blogger beta thingy.

It told me to do it this morning, so I did. Baaaa.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Thinking about the dead

It's time for another maudlin post from me.

Well, no, actually when I'm thinking about this subject, it's not painful really. I enjoy my memories. It's sort of bittersweet.

As it's coming up to Remembrance Day there's a lot of talk about white and red poppies, and the subject makes me think about my granddad. He was a radio-operator in WW2. He was at Dunkirk and he had to leave his section to get a signal. He got the famous come home message and went back to his regiment to tell them, only they had already been evacuated! I can't imagine what he must have felt. He and four other guys commandeered a motorbike and sidecar and somehow managed to ride it along the coast until a boat (I think it was a Dutch or Belgian fishing boat) picked them up and took them home to Britain.

I think he got a very little leave to see Gran and then he went into training again in Scotland. He was sent up from Africa fighting all the way up to Italy after that.

My great-uncle was a conscientious objector who drove an ambulance at the front. It must have been incredibly hard to take a stand like that too.

I'm proud of all this family history.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Tick tock

On further reflection on my post about Daniel C Dennett's illness, I wonder why his religious friends felt they needed to tell him they were praying for him. It is not as though his atheism is any great secret, or any secret at all :D. Anyone who has ever heard of him would probably be fully aware of his views. I thought maybe he was being a bit ungracious about it, but then, on thinking about just how clear he has made his views, I could see where he was coming from more.

Perhaps they were expecting a complete u-turn in him on his almost death-bed, but even so, to bother him with it in his vulnerability, seems a bit rude. I wouldn't advance upon a believing friend's hospital bed trying to tell him/her about my views.

They could have prayed privately and limited themselves to wishing him well while with him, instead of informing him about their prayers.

I suppose they're after 'saving his soul', but it's not something I would want either, in his place. Would it offend me to be told someone is praying for me? Well, no, but I know I would prefer to be wished well and told I'm cared about and thought of.

"may I be of a sound mind, and do to others as I would that they should do to me"
Plato - The Laws - c. 360 b.c.e.

"I have something to say to the religionist who feels atheists never say anything positive: You are an intelligent human being. Your life is valuable for its own sake. You are not second-class in the universe, deriving meaning and purpose from some other mind. You are not inherently evil--you are inherently human, possessing the positive rational potential to help make this a world of morality, peace and joy. Trust yourself."
Dan Barker

"A man didn’t understand how televisions work, and was convinced that there must be lots of little men inside the box, manipulating images at high speed. An engineer explained to him about high frequency modulations of the electromagnetic spectrum, about transmitters and receivers, about amplifiers and cathode ray tubes, about scan lines moving across and down a phosphorescent screen. The man listened to the engineer with careful attention, nodding his head at every step of the argument. At the end he pronounced himself satisfied. He really did now understand how televisions work. "But I expect there are just a few little men in there, aren’t there?""
Douglas Adams

"I don't believe in ultimate things. I don't believe in the inextinguishable light of the other world. I don't believe that we will be lifted up and transfixed by radiance. One incandescent dusky world is all there is."
Edward Hirsch

Subject to change without warning

More trouble about the niqaab.

I'm looking at this issue somewhat differently now, because this new tabloid frenzy is over a female lawyer who has worked for several years in the courts, wearing a veil with apparently no problems.

But Judge George Glossop demanded she remove the veil and she refused, sticking to her beliefs. The tabloids are reporting this as her being in the wrong: yet it seems to me that if Ms Mughal has been working in the field for years without it being a problem, why is this judge suddenly making it an issue? Is he pursuing some sort of agenda?

And the tabloids are loving it, if you have a look at the Daily Express headline on Mail Watch: "The Veil Banned By Judge", indeed. ~Rolls eyes~

Not so.

He doesn't have the power to ban a veil, fortunately: what he has done is put a halt to the tribunal while he seeks advice.

I think part of the reason I feel differently about this case than the teaching assistant case is that where the teaching of children is concerned, I think their needs should come first. IF the children needed to see her lips move to help them sound out words, and if she was assisting with English as a second language, then it seems it should have been possible for her to compromise for their benefit. But not knowing the circumstances fully, it does leave a lot of ifs and buts. :( Maybe ~gasp~ I was wrong in the first place! :D Although I do find the veil a bit of a problem as a feminist.

In a court of law, I would have thought that Ms Mughal could have a microphone IF the veil genuinely compromises the judge hearing her.


Pleased to see that the loathsome Bush has been given a bloody nose by his electorate.

My friend, my toilet

Days where your toilet is your best friend, are not the best days. They can scarcely be considered days at all.

Last night everytime M stirred in bed, every twitch, sent a ripple across the mattress and a wave of nausea and pain would flood through me, and I'd hiss evilly "Keep still!" On pain of death.

Poor sod.

I feel better now, although all washed-out, heavy and bilious. At least the pain has gone.


Tuesday, November 07, 2006


Picture the scene: I sat admiring the two golden heads of my children nestled together over a book... when that idyll was shattered by seeing S prepare to pinch T's upper arm. :(

I intervened and sent her to the naughty step, from where she sat shrieking "I'm sorry!" and "It was going to be (ha ha, note the tense) an accident!" in furious and rebellious tones. I was going to remove a marble (they collect marbles for good behaviour and lose them for really bad) but her screeching drove me over the edge: it didn't seem enough. So I put her to bed early, where at least her angry screams are muffled.

So she ended up with three punishments for essentially the same thing: an unfulfilled act against her little brother. :( (Although the tantrum/scream thing is not a good behaviour and she really needs to learn a bit of self-control).

I didn't handle that very well. :(

I suppose at least I didn't smack her bottom, as I was sorely tempted to do. Smacking is something I don't really agree with, as a form of discipline: especially when what I want to punish her for is hurting someone. I can understand why parents use it, tho', but think there are usually better alternatives.

Monday, November 06, 2006


Thank goodness!

This is an incredibly interesting article to my mind.

Daniel C. Dennett was recently hospitalised, near-death, and talks about his continued atheism while he thought himself very likely to die (the old saw of "no atheists in fox-holes" being refuted by this, unless of course, one decides he's lying - in which case there's no point even reading it).

He's a supporter of the term "Bright", as a kind of positive terminology for naturalistic, atheistic worldviews, in a similar way to the way that "gay" was appropriated as (originally) a positive self-description. I'm not all that comfortable with the label "Bright", because of its meaning of smart: which to me smacks of saying you're either clever - or you're a believer. Which plainly isn't true and is an arrogant attitude of which atheists often stand accused. I can do without that sort of thing. I can be arrogant in my own time, thanks. :D

I have some difficulty with his view on those who prayed for him: it seems a bit ungracious.

"What, though, do I say to those of my religious friends (and yes, I have quite a few religious friends) who have had the courage and honesty to tell me that they have been praying for me? I have gladly forgiven them, for there are few circumstances more frustrating than not being able to help a loved one in any more direct way. I confess to regretting that I could not pray (sincerely) for my friends and family in time of need, so I appreciate the urge, however clearly I recognize its futility. I translate my religious friends' remarks readily enough into one version or another of what my fellow brights have been telling me: "I've been thinking about you, and wishing with all my heart [another ineffective but irresistible self-indulgence] that you come through this OK." The fact that these dear friends have been thinking of me in this way, and have taken an effort to let me know, is in itself, without any need for a supernatural supplement, a wonderful tonic. These messages from my family and from friends around the world have been literally heart-warming in my case, and I am grateful for the boost in morale (to truly manic heights, I fear!) that it has produced in me. But I am not joking when I say that I have had to forgive my friends who said that they were praying for me. I have resisted the temptation to respond "Thanks, I appreciate it, but did you also sacrifice a goat?" I feel about this the same way I would feel if one of them said "I just paid a voodoo doctor to cast a spell for your health." What a gullible waste of money that could have been spent on more important projects! Don't expect me to be grateful, or even indifferent. I do appreciate the affection and generosity of spirit that motivated you, but wish you had found a more reasonable way of expressing it."

I understand that he is making a point, or rather quite a few points. I just feel he could have expressed them better. I don't see that friends telling him that they have been praying for him is worse than the friends who were wishing him well. (Or does he see it as worse? Must re-read). He seems to see it as misdirected energy that he would prefer spent on real projects.

Hmm. Food for thought. I shall think about this some more. This is only a half-thought think I am thinking. :D

It's really November now

This morning it was lovely freezing fog everywhere, a proper November day. Brrrrrrrrr.

And it's a friend of mine's birthday! Happy birthday, if you're reading. :D

Three three and thirty three. I remember having to do poems that included three three and thirty three back at college. Ah, them wuz the days. :D

Lady with a pig, coming through!

The show Make Me A Model provides consistent entertainment. I saw a bit of another episode and I was in fits. I hope the sadistic makers of this show don't sleep well at night.

I imagine the people who get involved in these type of fame-hungry shows probably accept and expect a fair amount of the ridiculous, and probably want it too, ("We're totally programmed to do it, and we want to do it too!" [/Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey]) but really... Modelling by lugging a piglet down the catwalk?!

Lady with a pig coming through! (Sorry about the quality.)

I really don't watch this show, tho, (honest!) I just keep catching hilarious segments of it when trying to find something decent to watch.

Methinks the lady doth protest too much?

Sunday, November 05, 2006

I'm just a boy who can't say no

M is finding his job really stressful. This weekend he isn't on call, but his phone still rings constantly. His little boss said that because *he* was on call, could M keep his phone on in case he needed him.

The enraging thing is, his little boss has actually switched off his own phone.

I could crown him. With a brick. (The little boss, not M).

Friday, November 03, 2006

Good reasons for divorce

I can think of lots of reasons for divorce that seem well justified: serial infidelity, domestic violence, mental cruelty, child abuse, developing a hatred of the spouse. :D

But "loving someone but not being 'in love' with him/her" is one that throws me. It seems to me that there is a lot to work with in that situation, especially if there are children in the marriage. Surely there's a chance of rekindling those fires if you have a solid basis of affection and love for one another?

I suppose unless you're in that situation you can't know how it feels, but it seems, on the face of it, a bit of a frivolous reason to end a marriage.

I'm not sure what being "in love" entails if it isn't the same as loving someone. Is it the frisson of excitement, butterflies in the stomach, infatuation sort of thing? Because I don't think that stays as intense no matter who it is. This ain't Hollywood, people.

After a few years of washing someone's underpants and digging their hair out of the plug-hole, it's going to be less of a roller-coaster. It's inevitable. I still consider myself in love with my husband, however. We can finish each other's sentences a lot of the time but he can still surprise and enthrall me.

Ah well, not sure where I'm going with this.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

The predator among us

Look at that sinister bearing, that beady eye, those vicious pink paws, those fearsome whiskers, the gloomy and forbidding aspect of his fur - the fearful symmetry - and tremble!

Tommy the hamster was up and about this morning, and amusing the children with his running around the cage, squeezing through tunnels and climbing the bars type antics, when he happened upon an intruder in his cage.

Not a finger, a snail. What insanity prompted the snail to venture into our house, I do not know. What further lunacy inspired it to make itself comfortable on the hamster's wheel, I know not either. It paid for its foolishness with its slimy life.

Snickety snack!

Tommy the killer hamster!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006


S had a great time at the Halloween party.

The only problem we had was that she didn't win anything. She didn't win best fancy dress, she didn't win the dancing competitions, she didn't win any of the raffles, she didn't win pass-the-parcel. She took each disappointment well up until the end of the party, but when she realised she wasn't going to win anything at all, she got a bit tired and emotional. I find that quite hard to deal with: I should have distracted her with talk of sparklers when we got home, but my back was hurting (I slipped on the stairs a week ago and I hurt my bum-bum! I must have given my coccyx a good whack, cos I've been in pain ever since. If it goes on, I may have to go and see my GP about my broken bum.) and I'd been chasing T around the hall for two hours, rescuing him from underfoot, so my patience was evaporating by the end. I scooped her up and we danced & whopped the hanging skeletons in an effort to cheer her up (and knacker my back still further), so crisis averted.

Anyway, she'd had a great time apart from that and she looked brilliant in her vampire garb. T had a whale of a time too, and spent much of the party dancing in a jerky jumpy wobbly way that was unbearably cute. :D

Today the Peter Pan costume is getting another outing at school as it's yet another dress-up day.