Friday, 11 March 2016

The habits of successful plague carriers

(not sponsored by Lemsip)

6:45 Woken by what, in my confused, sleepy, ears blocked with cold, state, I believe to be an owl hooting. Lie in state of confused enchantment, until....

6:55 ... realise it is of course the BASTARD HEN.

7:00 Hear a child on staircase, inevitably it is the child that has the day off and doesn't actually need to get up. Assume it is going to feed chickens. It isn't. Persuade child - from still prone position, by power of shouting - to feed chickens. This makes no difference to chicken volume. First Lemsip of the day.

8:30 Discussion with cleaning lady about how delicious the Jerusalem Artichokes were, no, no, thank you no more for now, keep some for yourself!

8:35 Walk dog. Dog spends many minutes tenderly licking patches of old pee. Listen to more of The Butcher's Hook. Continued cognitive dissonance of Janet Ellis, childhood Blue Peter queen, narrating tale of 18th century illicit sex 'n' butchery (still excellent).

10:00 Home. Rapidly become too annoyed about a minor work contretemps to concentrate. Look at some owls. Mutter.

10:30 Get intro trouble with B for sending him an article on dolphin masturbation:

"I send you photographs of tiny hedgehogs, news about adorable rescued gigantic rabbits, and you reward me with a man whose job it is to MASTURBATE DOLPHINS?  I'm not sure we're engaged in an equitable animal-information-sharing relationship.  

" la masturbation est répétée tous les jours" WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK"

10:40 Try and claw myself back into his esteem with baby elephants trying to be lapdogs courtesy of M. and caption "Baby elephants! Absolutely no masturbation!" Response "I feel like lack of masturbation in animal communication is a low bar"

11:30 Greet a selection of complaints/questions about Skype performance, broadband speed, wifi networks from child with a tetchy "why on earth are you asking me?"

12:30 Lunch. A contradictory combo of punishment soup and ruminant medley followed by heavily buttered hot cross bun. I contain multitudes (multitudes of hot cross buns).

1:30-3:30 Long, increasingly desperate, reflection on prospect of going to see my friends at Bastardpost. Denial, bargaining, anger, despair, acceptance, padded envelopes.

3:30-3:35 Post office trip. It's never as bad as you think it's going to be unless you set off in optimism in which case it is TERRIBLE.

4:45 Listen to excellent Nina Stibbe short story on Radio 4 FULL of ponies.

5:00 Sink into hell-cold stupor. Mouth breathe unhappily. Start fourth packet of tissues.

5:30 Review this "do these dogs look like their owners" feature with intense seriousness evaluating each one.

5:40 Afternoon snack: 4 Maltesers (all that were left in packet, it would have ideally been 400) and a Lemsip. Desultory laundry.

6:00 Walk dog. Take a picture of this alarming sight:

to prove I didn't hallucinate it.

6:30 Sadly acknowledge that I am too sick for gin. Give up. Self-medicate with Crufts.

How was your Friday?


Crazy Mom! said...

Full of idiots at work. People canNOT follow simple directions!!!

Heading to the opera with the boyfriend on Sunday. He loves classical music - a man after my heart!

Also - "la masturbation est répétée tous les jours" Holy Mother!!!!

ganching said...

I am on Day 27 of my cold and I am not even exaggerating for comic effect. It is a BASTARD of a cold. I can recommend Belvoir ginger cordial made with hot water and a slice of lemon (and possibly a very large slug of alcohol).

Dale said...

I have no actual functioning brain cells with which to compose a comment after the week that would not end finally ended. The problem with my work, in a nutshell, is that there are other people involved.
On the other hand, I am not ill. I am sentient enough to recognize the good of that.

Taxmom said...

Worn out and sad after a week of being supportive of my husband and his family (his dad died, not unexpectedly, but who would have thought there was so much administrative protocol involved in the dying process?). So now 50% self-righteous sense of entitlement, 50% looking for someone to unload all of the macabre-but-funny moments onto, 50% sheer exhaustion and annoyance that work problems did not solve themselves while we were away. I have not succumbed to the winter plague yet, though it is spreading through my office, so there is that. I am now off to read your latest post aloud to my husband to make him laugh and for that I thank you.

Anonymous said...

Dear Waffle, you might like to watch this very short film about how a man rescued a dog and the dog rescued him may need some extra tissues and not for your cold..
All the feels...

Anonymous said...

Recommended lazy lunch:

1 triangle of Brie
a handful of dried cranberries
an oven
a loaf of bread, preferably onion bread

make little holes in the Brie with a skewer, knitting needle, fork or other sharp object
push the dried cranberries into the holes
turn the Brie over and repeat the same process
now you have a triangle of Brie full of berries
Turn on your oven, place the Brie in the oven and wait for it to melt
Turn off the oven, chop up your bread and put it inside the oven for a couple of mins to warm beside the Brie
Open your oven and eat it all in one go

Anonymous said...

Sorry about the cold.

No real help on the dolphins either.

I tried to work out if I dry out the Snowdrops and keep the bulbs something marvellous will happen next year.

Went for supper last night and spoke a lot of French ( in East Anglia ) thought FUCK why didn't I stay in Provence where the children were lightly tanned, looked French, I took to swanning about and doing yoga and going to 'events' at The English Bookshop.

Decided I have an odd passion now for large Yeo Valley yoghurt.

Met someone who looked like he belonged in a Richard Curtis film and I thought he was quite something - I liked his immaculate white shirt - then he spoke in a whiny, nasal voice and I thought of my friend in Switzerland with his gorgeous voice.

To be continued...lemsip with honey takes the edge off the industrial cleaner after taste. Courage.

Sparkling Red said...

I live in Canada and attended school in French immersion up until the end of the 8th grade. I've never travelled to a French-speaking region/country as an adult, or held a job which requires me to be bilingual. However, being able to read this article on dolphin masturbatory practices has finally (30 years after the fact) justified my education. Magnifique!

Fiona said...

"Punishing... ruminant medley" has got me giggling so much!
Found you via your book via The Pool and I am so so hooked! I hereby declare I shall buy two copies of the book: one for moi, one for my chere copine who spent a year in Reims while I spent a year in Ile-de-France in 2000 and we both wondered why French women were still wearing velvet headbands...