Friday, 25 October 2013

The Beaded Curtain

Today I bought a beaded curtain.  I don't often buy stuff to decorate the house - I'm much more inclined to buy stuff to decorate me. I put it down to the time of the month - yep - it's nearly Halloween and people might visit. 

Anyway, the beaded curtain.  We have a door shaped gap between our kitchen (the old part of the house) and the utility room (part of the extension, which includes a shower room and our bedroom) and I have always felt it needed something. Something like a door but not a door because a door would have cut our bedroom off from the rest of the house, and we may not have heard the children's screams for help in the event of a disaster - for example: a zombie attack. Their cries for help echoing through the house could have been just enough to alert us to the danger, giving me and Cal adequate time to leg it out the back fastish, an actual door may have muffled the sounds......... it's what they would have wanted.  So until this very day, the door shaped gap has remained just that.

But the gap has now been revolutionised - albeit in a kind of retro way.  This event, however, has caused near hysteria here.

 If you have read my blog before then you probably know I live with three men. Frequent readers and friends will know that this is nowhere near as cool and bohemian as I am inferring, since the men in question are my husband and two teenage sons - of whom, one is a man, one's on the cusp and one's a manlet - they are all; however, most definitely male. The introduction of the afore mentioned "beaded curtain" - oh, and a wholly innocuous rug on the other side of it - was certainly enough to make that clear. One is trying to pretend it isn't there; one wanted to know what it felt like when he was nearly nude and the other is pretending it is made of acid!! And I thought the cats were going to be the problem (my cats couldn't 'get' how a cat flap worked and I had to remove it -ffs). I presumed Sydney biscuits, who regulars will know as the family idiot cat and tic collector, would be the problem - he, in fact, has been the most Zen, my wee female, Jack Kirby, is so scared she's been hiding behind the couch since I put it up.

IT'S A BEADED CURTAIN - IT'S NOT A DECORATIVE ARRANGEMENT OF COBRAS NOR A SNIFTER OF THE WORLDS MOST LETHAL POISONS FOR US ALL TO HAVE A TASTE AND TELL SESSION WITH - IT IS NOT EVEN A DRIED OUT MONKEY'S PAW. IT IS..... it is a beaded curtain -  all I ask is someone walks through it normally........oh, hello......... one of them just has (fully clothed).........well that was............ dull............harrumph.

 D'you think Argos do a Decorative Arrangement of Cobras - 'cause this novelty has gotten old fast.

TUNE: Coroner for the Police - Shot Benny

PS: My short story "The Paper Samurai" will be available on kindle soon :)

Friday, 18 October 2013

My Big Fat Chubs and Their Effects on the World

Picture the scene - if you will - and only as long as your tea has passed beyond the point of no return - your personal event horizon, as it were: I've just bought a new outfit - skirt and top. The skirt is everything I've ever wanted in a lower-body, non-trouser garment, as in - it's  size 10, black, long, top half down to the hips is black suedey stuff and the rest is a sort of pleated tulle-y sort of thing with a lining (okay, that sounds terrible - it's not - at least - if you're me, it's not) and the top I got is...too hard to describe but it's nice - it's black with wee black beads around a pretend V-neck with a straight inset so you don't flash your boobs at the world.  So, I'm standing looking in the mirror (it is a crappy cheap mirror I bought years ago when we were broke and has a warp in the middle but still an' all):

Me: Looking good there, Big D.
Body: Thanks Me - I think so too - we're pulling this off nicely.  Think we may even showchase this bad boy off at work on Monday.
Me: With the pink fleece socks we have on right now, or should we go with a laced-up boot?
Body: Me thinks a laced-up boot or
Me: Nice one - good choice.
Inner Thinking Me  - in a nasal, snivelling/stab-you-in-the-back voice: (Yes, but you're standing up)
Me and Body: Your point being? (dickhead)
Inner Thinking Me: (Well, I'm just wondering...)
Me and Body: Yeeessssss (ah, get on with it)
Inner Thinking Me: (Well, what does it look like when you're sitting down.)
Me and Body: I'm sure it looks just...............OH DEAR GOD NO!!! - OHHHH FOR FLIP SAKES!!!!!!!!!WHERE DID THAT LOT COME FROM!!!!  HOLY MOTHER OF MACKEREL!!!
Inner Thinking Me: (Maybe not then.)
Me and Body: ??????????????????????????

Yes, as we know (cause I'm always banging on about it) I like to run, I'm fit as a flea - so where the hell do all those chubby bits come from?  They weren't there when I was standing!!!  I sit down and - WHAM - tyres that could keep even the Faroees off slaughtering whales for years. - god, I feel practically endangered - but stand up again and...wee wifey....sit down....whale wifey....fuck sakes!

Luckily, as per, I purchased my new outfit in a charity shop. Charity shops are my purchasing outlet of choice (for non-food items).  To get this straight - I'm not broke - I don't shop there because I have to, I shop in charity shops because (in no particular order) : a) it's recycling b) it's cheap and I can make mistakes c) there's a chance I might find something I like (see earlier description of skirt) and d) somewhere along the line someone might be better off for me having done so.

The garments I purchased might have cost ten times what was originally paid for them but the skilled person who actually made them (either here or abroad) probably got paid a fraction of  that original price. However, maybe, just maybe, me and other charity shop buyers can make even the tiniest bit of amends for our horrible Western consumerist ways by buying them back again from charities who want to help........
............there is something so wrong in all that, isn't there. It's the fact that hard working people with families to feed, like us, have to get help from charities whose money comes from the very people who have caused those people to require help in the first place -  flip sakes........

......................................... OH LORDY! THIS IS HARD!!.......................................................
AND maybe by supporting these charities, I am, inadvertently, relieving governments(including ours) of  some of the responsibility of looking after their own people, and as such, am perpetuating the corruption in the countries within which these products are made.........


.................................................................. I'm such a dick!!!!..............................................................

(deep breath) As my Dad would have said - Ocht to hell!  And as I can't see the world's governing bodies clubbing together to wipe the economic slates clean and start again - all democrat and free-speachy, no cheating by selling addictive drugs that grow really well in one climate but not another etc; all big old pals together, I suppose me and my lardy, over-privileged, Western spare tyres will just have to carry on as we are.  -
Bastards - see - it's the world's fault my new skirt makes me look fat!

Tune: Ballad of Hollis Brown a Bob Dylan song done by Rise Against (my darling boys).

Saturday, 12 October 2013

Running, Reincarnating and Ruminating

Today was beautiful.  Were it not for the less than balmy temperature, one may have been fooled into thinking it was summer.  I still loused out of doing anything in the garden - and I used to be so keen around the old backdoor flora - working has had a seriously bad effect on me. 

Not that I was working today, apart from locking up at 5pm.  Nope, today I had a most delightful run (15.65km) out through the village; over the Bridge to Nowhere and up to the waterfall - where I couldn't resist paddling about in the water. Then back via the Traigh Mhor - a long stretch of beach - one of three we boast in the village...well, not "in", on the edges of it - in would be too weird even for us.

Sadly, I came across a dead dolphin or porpoise, not sure which, that had got tangled up in a the rope of a marker, poor wee soul.  I understand it has been there a while because someone locally came across it last week and called the SSPCA who were less than chuffed as it was long since swimming in celestial seas or been reincarnated as something nice - I'm presuming something nice as I'm not sure you can get evil dolphins who might warrant a life as, I don't know, a sheep (well, it doesn't look much fun being a sheep to me!).  Followed up my gruesome discovery (actually I was centimetres from running THROUGH it - that would have put trainer cheese into perspective) with a run down into the waves.  My body was going: No! fuck off - I'm knackered - I just want to get home and die!  But my head had other ideas, and paddling about up to the knees in icy Atlantic breakers was number one on its list right then.

Ah well, even my body had to admit head had got it right this time as I stood there with the sand shifting under my feet and the sun all around, watching the seabirds force early reincarnation on fish.  It was just the business, certainly enough to get me all the way back up the hill past arguably (if you're feeling hard enough) the most scenic graveyard in the world.  I do feel the view is a bit wasted on the occupants but I shouted hello to them anyway - thankfully none of them replied - there's only so fast my poor wee leggies can go!

Final stretch is back along the main road to the house. I slapped "Welcome to the Black Parade" (My Chemical Romance) on my ipod and raced the lads to the last note - it was a tie (they were cheating and playing faster than usual, I swear).

By the time I made it home the boys (I include my husband in that) were quite distraught! What with all the paddling etc, I had been gone ages and it was nearly lunchtime and they were hungry!!  Only joking!  Not sure they'd noticed I was out  :)

Tune:"Same Old" (thanks Andrea :))

Wednesday, 9 October 2013

"Put Another X on the Calendar. Summer's on it's Deathbed"

Twas a dark and stormy night....then a dark and stormy morning and then there were flashes of sunshine that looked embarrassed to have intruded and beat a hasty retreat to leave a dark and stormy day.

Winter is knocking at the door.  No more feeling guilty about not weeding; no more looking at the grass getting longer and longer; no more ticks on Sydney Biscuits (huh!) - no more excuses.  Actually, since last I blogged I have been quite productive: I've written a short story.  It needs a damn good tidying up and proofreading but hopefully, Two All - All For One might have some company on my kindle bookshelf before the end of the year.  I've also plotted Rise of the Dark Heart - that title isn't staying - it doesn't work.  So far I have some new characters, including Egt Dreth Caill - who isn't really new, Isidra and The Desolation; I've also got two opposing creation myths, oh and someone who is talked into believing that being described as a total wanker is a good thing.  Also some of the old gang are back - but just not all of them. 

As for sales - well, the free give aways have been good but I need more reviews to get actual sales going.  I know that some writers send copies to people who review books but that sounds terrifying. Especially as someone I know who did that got absolutely slated because the person they sent it to just didn't do the genre.  So I'm just going to sit back and hope some of the kind souls who have downloaded it, see their way to reviewing it.

The title of this blog is from a Panic! At the Disco Song called "The Calendar" from their CD Vices and Virtues