I have just been informed by WordPress that I have reached another milestone – two years blogging.
First, I am impressed that I had two-year’s worth of words in me. Second, I’m surprised that anyone has wanted to read them. And third, I wonder just how many more words I would have had – if thousands of them had not exited into the ether, after disappearing from the page? I think I’ve improved since then and learnt mostly how not to do that. I’m still struggling with the wrong picture appearing, though. Instead of a picture relevant to the post, I seem to have my book covers everywhere.
This annoys me more than you will ever know. I get sick of seeing them and so I know that you must too. However, as I say, I haven’t figured this out yet and so, for now, I have to go with the flow.
I guess, if I think about it, and knowing how ditsy I am, I should be grateful that anything leaves this page intentionally. But ditsy kinda works for me …somehow.
I’m childish too.
I saw a witch in the cheapo shop the other week. Not a real witch, obviously, although some of the people around here are a bit suspect. No, a full-length floaty witch, and I had to have her – no, I mean, I really had to have her. My original thought was to keep her a secret until Halloween and then to hang her outside the kitchen patio doors, under the dry, porch-type area, and scare the proverbial out of Richard – he’s been very irritating just lately and so I considered he deserved it. Unfortunately, my impatient nature reared its ugly head and I had to ‘hang’ her immediately.
Richard came home and I instantly showed him my witch and said, ‘I was going to keep her until Halloween and then hang her up secretly and scare the shit out of you.’
He looked her up and down and remarked, ‘I’d probably be speaking to it for ten minutes before I realised it wasn’t you.’
Now, I ask you, is that Kind?
I’m getting my own back.
This morning I had a clean out of the ‘dry’ cupboard. Flour, fruit etc. and decided to whack it all into two Christmas cakes. It all went swimmingly until I came across a full, unopened bag of ground almonds. It seemed like a waste to only use half, seeing as how I was trying to use up all the odds and sods, so I tipped the whole bag in. I thought it quite weird that there was no ‘almond’ aroma wafting upwards, so I stuck my finger in and tried them. They tasted like sawdust – or how I thought sawdust might taste? When I checked the sell-by date it said May 2012.
Now, I have always been of the opinion that it isn’t the cockups you make in life that matter, but how you get out of them, so I added a bottle of almond essence. It did the trick. An eye-watering almond aroma flooded the kitchen and even made Chea blink. I then bunged in a glass full of sherry. Alcohol kills everything, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I probably won’t eat Christmas cake this year …but Richard will. Serves him right for the unkind witch comment.
I’ve just noticed that I’ve spilt flour on the floor so I’ll pop off now and give it a quick waft-over with my broom …