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I love watching old British TV shows from the late eighties where everything is muted and a bit grainy. I don't know if it has faded over time or it was always that way. They are slower than modern dramas. The first murder may not happen until an hour in. I recall one instance of that once, anyway. The people are less attractive and therefore more real. The women are older. Even the women supposed to be attractive are... not, at least by today's standards. Many of the actors are over fifty (or maybe just look it!)It's really weird.
Two too too toot tooesday. Red and blue is not a bad combo. Oops it is Wednesday. Tricked ya. Kangaroo oo oo oos that love carrots have been attacking tourists to steal the carrots they have for some reason been feeding them. Aussies know kangaroos can be dangerous, learn it at school, and probably never feed them carrots because why on earth would you. Carrots are delicious though and you can't blame the kangaroos. They jump and attack you with their feet that are on the ends of their powerful legs. Scary big animals. There are tree kangaroos too, cute.
Boyd woke up in the evening and went to bed. He brushed his teeth and ate a large dinner. He did not feel like cooking and so ordered take-away. The fridge was a bit bare. He had begun to feel hungry and wondered what was in the fridge. He trudged home and finished work. The day was going slowly. He ate lunch at the allotted time. He had been given a lot to do and he attended several meetings. His trip in was uneventful. He got out of bed and went to sleep very quickly before his big day.
Minnie decided to go for a walk. There was enough light left, and it was a beautiful afternoon. She would go around the block rather than go for a longer walk. She stopped to smell a rose, and was pleased that it had a scent. She passed a house that for some reason has a life-size and very life-like gorilla statue in the front yard. It frightens the local dogs. She passed the abandoned wreck of a house. She ended up walking around a very large block and it was almost 45 minutes later when she arrived home.
It is a disaster to accidentally press the wrong key and go back to the previous screen, and lose your work. I have done this two or three times and I don't know which key I press. I think it is the page up/down or home key. I save the 100 words before previewing always, as I have lost my work several times this way too. It is only 100 words so not that bad if you lose it, but it is almost impossible to replicate. It is particularly painful if you feel you have some good work there.
A tale of two chicken families. One: There were two hens and one of the hens laid an egg every day. The other hen laid an egg every three days or so. The every-three-days-or-so hen began to eat the eggs of the every-day hen. The hens owners got far fewer eggs. Two: There were two hens and one of the hens started to eat the other hen's eggs. The hen's owner chopped the head off the egg-eater, cooked it for dinner and bought two new pullets, which were bullied mercilessly by the older hen.
It would be an interesting exercise, she thought, to count every object in the house. There would be millions and millions of things in the house. It would be interesting to compare this to a different house - a minimalist house, or a hoarder's house. Imagine having very few things. The count could be done room by room. Some rooms have far more things than others. Would you count each individual toy, or count things as sets? Counting each thing is what I have in mind. Her house is a mix, room by room, of minimalist and hoarder and perhaps average.
Only the very oldest people remembered a time when humans could see in colour. Nan remembered a picture book she had as a child with beautiful vivid colours. She thought she remembered red, blue, yellow and green. It was hard to describe. The closest she came were feelings. The book made her happy. She remembers when colour bled out, when red became black. People love to wear dark shades. This has not changed. She remembers this, too, from before. The morning commute on a sea of black, grey and navy. No one wears white now. It stands out too much.
The old house, with its wildly overgrown garden, was silent, secretive. A dirty green patina covered the walls. Over time windows had been broken and boarded up or left as they were. A car appeared in the grounds, and over time it, too, became covered in grime, and sported a broken window. No one knew who sometimes moved the car and who cut the grass. A man could be seen sometimes in the grounds. It is assumed it was him who also arranged to cut down many of the tall trees, exposing the house as the wreck that it was.
Ten Oh Five Two Thousand Eighteen. Arriving at the new millennium seemed far out at the time - how to write the date? People who abbreviated it were few and far between and seemed a bit weird. Who puts a 1 or a 2, etc, for the year? Maybe they are progressive. Now we are in the second decade it's absolutely fine to leave out the 20 and everyone is cool with it. Maybe it was only me worried about it in the 10s. The noughties, the tens. Odd decades best left behind and forgotten. Franz Ferdinand on Spotify. WW1 ref
Smell as a sense is underrated. I have prepared lamb with rosemary and garlic. the smell is divine. I have also used some hand cream I love that adds to the bliss. The lamb, potato and sweet potato are turned down low and will cook for quite a while. I hope that works for the vegetables. Time has gone by and I must now look at the greens. I have Brussels sprouts which may be too strong. That's a shame, but that's all I have unless I go for frozen peas. Maybe I will. They'd be OK. SAVE THE SPROUTS.
Strobe lighting... bodies swaying... throbbing, more like. Pulsing. ee ee ee ee ee oh oh oh o h sway off to the loo, thump the wall on the way through, bang open the door. mumble sorry, fall into the cubicle. pants down, sit. head swaying, swaying, swaying. finish, wipe, up and out. who is that in the mirror... looking ok! out to the melee and throb, thrum, sway, black, white, let's sit this one out, thwack into the wall as the bum hits the seat. Whoa, the room is still spinning. Sleep for a bit in the dark. No one
I wish I had tomorrow off work. I feel like a "free day". Drat. Drat. Drat. Drat. I bought the boom box years ago and kind of regretted it because I didn't use it much. Now I use it for Spotify in the newly renovated lounge room and it has come into its own. It is without a doubt excellent, the two united that is, are excellent. The sound is magnificent. The room has good acoustics because it is tiled, and now quite empty. The ambiance is so good. So is the view during the day with the blinds open.
Finding motivation for a walk in the evening low, the new owner of a step-counting device decided to go for a walk at lunch time. A walk during the day did wonders for the step count and the active minutes tally. Today on her walk she passed four birds competing for a morsel of food in the gutter - an ibis, a crow, a pigeon and a seagull. The ibis had the food but the crow snatched it away when the ibis let go. The seagull swooped and the pigeon wandered in circles, both of them out of their league.
A charity ride through Bainbridge last Sunday took an serious turn when a member of Angels on Wheels taking part in the ride supporting children with cancer collided with members of the Black Crow Motorcycle Club. Long-time member of the Angels club told the Herald the Crows were not interested in vengeance, although two of the motorcyclists had sustained serious injuries in the accident. In fact, the Crows promised to offer their support when the ride was rescheduled later in the month. The riders are recovering from their injuries in hospital and are expected to make a full recovery.
Bron flew into a rage when she left her injured partner and walked out of the hospital to her waiting ride. The Harley roared off, frustrations playing out in the noise and speed. Boof had been injured by a weekend rider and things had taken a turn for the worse. They arrived at the club house, and someone handed Bron a drink, and offered a backhand if she didn't calm down. The sky was black in the east and the headstones in the cemetery cast long shadows down the hill. There was nothing to be done. Wrong place wrong time.
Tiger half heartedly dug into her pasta, perusing her recent accident. On only her third outing with the charity biker group, Tiger had collided with a group of other bikes. Two of the riders came off and were injured quite badly. Tiger had only a few scratches but her bike was in bad shape. She didn't feel responsible, but she felt terrible it had happened. She believed the other group of riders had not left her group sufficient room on the road when they cut the corner and the groups merged. She continued her meal, hoping they would be OK.
After getting rid of all the Irvine Welsh books except for Train Spotting, have bought a stack of them. Cormack McCarthy, also. Same, different. It was two or three for a set price. Ended up with two of Acid House, not sure how that happened. Thought I took more care. Do love both authors, although the subject matter is challenging. They are both great writers in my opinion. Have read to of the McCarthy's so far. Did not disappoint. Might sit the Welsh's front and centre in the lounge room. No one will know what they are. Place for new
The prince married the actress. The prince said to the actress. The prince and the actress. Actor. The bishop said to the prince who was marrying the actress. An actress... A prince! Prince Harry! Everyone knows Prince Harry. He is of the era of Harry Potter. Harry is a good old boy's name. His wife has a Harry Potter name too. It is easy to imagine them both at Hogwarts. She, Muggle-born, with unfortunate parentage. His Dad, a good guy, looking after her lonely mother on the big day. They are princes, what more needs to be said. Princes!
Harry and Meghan are married. What a time we live in. We love a spectacle just as the medieval peasant loved a spectacle. It's a good news story, whatever you may think of it. I love it. I happen to know they charged a huge amount (I mean huge) per minute for footage of the wedding and gave the money to charity. I admire that. I really admire that. And who knows? Not the average Joe. Sadly, the networks who could not afford much, look a bit crap, but that's the way it is. You get what you pay for.
Guests walking through the house for the first time are amazed when they go through to the back to find another huge living space. Since the tidy up the room looks fabulous. It has windows all around and gives the most wonderful feeling of space and light. It is like being on top of the world. Low-growing fruit trees surround the house, with seasonal displays of flowers and fruit, which rainbow lorikeets feed on in summer. The trees around the house do not obscure the view with larger trees in surrounding back yards all around, and then the sky.
The big grey cat was called Leroy Brown. He wasn't a bad cat. He was persistent when it came to trying to get food. He would always appear when dinner was being prepared. When on the table or on a bench top his feet became glue-like and it was difficult to push him off. He was afraid of cooked spaghetti. It was fun to dangle a bit at him and watch him peel off the table. There was no glue on his feet when spaghetti was on the menu. He loved cheese and had a fondness for cake too.
There were two hens left out of the original three. One hen had laid an egg a day since she began laying. The other laid an egg every couple of days. The second hen began to eat the eggs laid by the prolific layer. When she started she wouldn't stop. She got almost every one because it was hard to get there first. It was disappointing but not much could be done. She was a well-fed hen! She will hopefully not start to eat her own eggs or it will be no more eggs for the family of humans.
He watched the miles click by as he drove through the night toward home. He had a slow start and had to make many stops. Sometimes he was not sure of the road and had to check the map or make a decision on the fly of which fork to take. He would be glad when this trip was over. He did not plan another for at least a month. The trip had almost been for nothing because he was so late arriving. All would have been lost. He drove on, guide posts flying by, his headlights piercing the night.
I have had mixed success in stopping the hen that eats eggs eating the eggs of the other hen. I have started a chart of when each end lays and when the hen eats an egg. She is so naughty. Who would have thought having live stock would be so fraught. And they are only hens. They are happy hens I think, so go me for that. They are lucky to have been bought by me as they are very well looked after. I see the eggs as a bonus, however, must try to stop the naughty hen from cannibalism.
I put something out on the front lawn and it went in 30 minutes. I've seen an old office chair out next door for days, no takers. What did I put out, a big basket on wheels, used to bring wood into the house for the fire. Recently used to put crap in that we don't want. putting two and two together, realise don't need the basket. Like it, but don't need it or use it for anything useful any more. The ex-husband bought the basket and put the wheels on. Hope the new owners enjoy it. It's good.
Listening to the Dandy Warhols Bohemian Like You. I really do love them. I have seen them live, at a small festival in Australia way after their hey day. I would have missed them as my friends wandered like Brown's cows after arriving late, and I had to say - Dandy Warhols! Main stage! We missed Dexy's Midnight Runners which was a shame, mainly because they are so unique and antique. The friend who wanted to see them obviously valued opinion over what she wanted. She has seen all the big bands in her day, maybe it was no big deal.
Brenda went to the local shops on her day off. She cashed in some scratch lottery tickets she got for Christmas. She took away $58 and a free ticket! The ticket ended up no good, but she was glad because she didn't like to play. She got value for money at the Dollar Shop on a mat for the back door. She noticed the street was full of people over seventy. So, this is what life not at work looks like, she thought, joining the jovial band of oldies in the chemist where she went to pick up a prescription.
Why is it so that when you are not looking forward to something it turns out better than you thought it would? Conversely, when you look forward to something it is invariably a bit of a disappointment. Hence today, not looking forward to it, but it turned out OK. Maybe it is the fatalism. It is all up from there. My three pair of new shoes arrived today. I have one of them on now, trying to wear them in before I wear them tomorrow. They feel very good. One for work, one for weekends, one pair for serious exercise.
Most mornings when Sian wakes she thinks how lucky she is to have a comfy bed to sleep in. She wiggles her toasty warm toes and feels perfectly cosy. She delays getting up for as long as is reasonable, and looks forward to the weekend when she can stay in bed longer. She wonders if it is normal to feel lucky to have something that most people have, and if other people feel the same way. Her bed is one of her favourite places. She feels lucky she can go straight from bed to the shower. She sure is lucky.
Pondering the results, the researchers discuss whether the sense of taste is underrated. The survey showed the sense most people fear to lose is sight, followed by hearing. Taste came last. They discuss their preferences for hot spicy food - one likes horseradish, one hates horseradish but loves chilli. One adds lots of black pepper at the table. One likes all of them, in moderation, in the right dish. It would be drastic to lose one's eyesight or hearing, but to lose one's sense of taste (and smell) would be to lose a panorama of experiences. Maybe we'd all be slim.
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