Is It Me? ...Not Possible ...Is It?

Good Morning All

The longer I live the more I am convinced that the world has gone mad. And frankly I’m hoping that is the case because if it isn’t the world that has gone bonkers …it must be me!

You see, with every passing day there seems to be more of the ‘brown’ stuff that I just don’t get. For instance. Why does Amazon KDP think that I would love to buy my own book/books? Why would I? I have the darn things in long-hand, short-hand, on hard drive, on external drive, on plug-in, in versions I was happy with, in versions I was not happy with and even in a very early days, printed off, first draft version. Why the frig would I want to buy another copy? Doesn’t make sense to me. So, please Mr or Mrs head-in-a-bucket-of-sand person, stop sending me recommendations to buy my own books. Send them to the world and his dog. Now THAT night actually work out to be quite a novel idea – no pun intended. I’m telling you folks, if they send me any more I’ll probably end up buying them!

And another thing … yesterday I went to the bank. Well, we both went to the bank. Richard drove the car and dropped me outside  the bank and I attempted to walk in. I say attempted because the entire pavement was thick in ice. Taking baby, shuffling steps I entered. No queue, just two cashiers. I stamped the ice off my boots and gave them a good rub on the doormat, experience has shown me that if you don’t do this the first couple of steps on to the dry floor sends you slipping and sliding and looking most ridiculous.

I walked straight up to the cashier and she smiled a lipstick smile and said, ‘Good morning. How can I help you?’

‘Where’s the sodding grit?’ I said. ‘What the hell do we pay our council taxes for.’

She smiled, and fortunately for her, agreed with me.

But I wasn’t done. ‘What about all the elderly folk who have to walk leaning on those little leg things and move an inch at a time? How are they going to get out? What about their bread and milk? It’s disgusting. The council want shooting.’

‘I know.’ she said, stamping my two £25 premium bond cheques. You see my trip to the bank was vital!

‘And another thing,’ I said. ‘I’ve just heard on the news that they are going to supply volunteers with snow shovels in one part of the country so they can clear the paths. What is the world coming to?’

‘I know,’ she said, handing back my paying-in book.

‘I heard that,’ a little voice said, as another cashier breezed up. ‘They are going to get the public to clear the paths.’

‘Well I think it’s disgusting. I don’t mind slipping over and making a total ass of myself but what I don’t want to do, during my legs-akimbo routine, is rip open my bloody hernia repair.’

At this point they were both looking at me with the most sympathetic of smiles and furrowed brows.

‘Any way,’ I said. I’d better get off.’

They watched me go and I could almost hear the sighs of sympathy as I stepped onto the ice.

So that was that. Massive brain confusion caused by Amazon and Leicestershire Council.

I let Richard take me to the cinema in retribution for breaking Chea’s dish. He had recovered his normal sense of humour by then (I use the word ‘normal’ lightly) and couldn’t resist trying in out on the cashier. She asked him what he would like tickets for and he said, ‘Er ….Pi.’

She looked confused and was joined by another cashier.

‘Pie?’ she said.

‘Yeah, Pi … Pukka Pie.’ (To get this joke you would need to live in the UK and be familiar with Pukka Pies – unless they are global? No idea!)

They giggled politely and had a bit of a banter with him. I yawned a bit and then went to the loo. He was still entertaining them when I got back, this time doing stupid Michael Cain impressions, wearing the alluring 3D glasses. The jokes soon ended as I appeared and off we trotted, large popcorn and large drink clasped firmly in our hands. The cinema was empty – literally. We sat at the back – I have this weird thing going on about not liking people to sit behind me – and waited for the film.

I have to say it was totally awesome. Totally. That is, once I’d got used to lizards leaping off the screen and almost on to my lap. And when the tiger came my way I ducked! The only spoiler for me was the ending. I wouldn’t have ended it that way. But then I’m not an award-winning author!!

Snow is still covering the garden here and the chucks still won’t venture out. I’m always cracking on regarding animal instincts so I have to go with them on this one. They know best.

Richard has just made an appointment to take Chea to the Vets at midday to have her sutures out. I was going to take them out myself but I figure there will be enough opportunity for her to hate me over the coming years so I’ll let the vet incur the wrath. And then, when the snow has cleared a little, it will be harness training time and – let’s attempt to walk up the garden time – in the lovely harness. And that, as I already know, will not go down well with Chea. But, I’m sorry, that is how it will be. I am in charge. Not a little scrap of a cat.

So, having said that I’ll just pop and get her some chicken breast out of the freezer and cook it for when she gets back after yet another unhappy trip to the vet. And I think I might throw a couple of extra logs on the fire this afternoon and watch a film with Chea on my lap having a cuddle. My decision – not hers!

Just a couple of quick words to my new followers of this blog … you’re mad! But hugely welcome, thank you.

Take care my lovelies x