Ahhhh.... springy old spring... springy old spring spring...
Wasn’t yesterday lovely (yesterday as in Sunday, I mean, not as in ‘memories of green’ and childhood idylls, salad days and swallows and amazons etc)...
Because of my very interesting tootorial (well done, as per, Lesley) on Saturday shopping day got transposed (although I did buy a mallard for the freezer and a rather nice courgette and tomato tapas style thingy for my lunch at the farmer’s market on the way out of the AE centre) and we had to do that, but once that was done and dusted we had a lovely walk by the river and through the park (we tried through the river and on the park last year, but just got very wet and chased by a parky). The daffodils were doing their thing (sans Wordsworth – who needs an arrogant tosspot like that when you’ve got the real thing to admire) , the tweety birds were tweeting, the duk duks were a-paddle and the squirrels were running all over the shop looking startled like they always do. You’d think they would have gotten used to it by now, wouldn’t you?
So. We had a lovely lunch out (evil chicken from KFC, I’m afraid, but sometimes you have to relax a bit, don’t you, and there’s nowhere else on the high street that does free range in takeaway form), wished we’d dug out the bikes, threw bread to the mallards (how ironic) and all the other lovely springy style things that people do in spring. Then we came home and had a delicious evening meal of turkey and salad served with puy lentils and various olive-oil drenched delicacies (olives, red peppers (hot and cold), courgette, tomatoes, onions etc) with a delicious slice from a fig, sundried tomato and sultana rustic loaf we’d picked up reduced in Waitrose. Goodbye roasts! Hello cold collations! Hello birds, hello sky, hello trees... Fotherington Thomas, eh? He knew what he was on about, even if he was utterly wet and weedy (chiz chiz). I had red wine, Ben had seven up, BTW.
While in Waitrose we walked past the newspapers, and one had the headline ‘Jordan drove me to suicide’ with a picture of Alex ‘no, not in the face’ Reid next to it. I asked Ben what was wrong with the headline and he said ‘Well he isn’t dead, is he’. Dat’s my boy. At 13 and autistic he’s already got more going for him than yer average screws of the news reader, and he’s got great taste in salads too!
I had a brief look at the A210 forum (you can look, but you musn’t touch, you naughty boy, you) and saw the mod having a hissy fit because people have been moaning about the course content. Awwwwww. ‘You try writing like him’ [Wordsworth] he said (lol). I can’t play guitar like Chris Rhea either, but it doesn’t mean I have to think his music is anything other than Dire! (see what I did there, Chris Rhea/Dire – Dire Rhea. Tis an old joke but a worthy inversion, don’t you think?) I’ve actually enjoyed this section more than the others as far as the texts go, but thought the course materials more than a bit EMC (Emperor’s New Clothes.) Big Willy next – ooooh joy!
I enjoyed spotting Julie Covington on the DVD for Barbie’s Mansion too. I kept expecting a nice Prog Rock/Abbaesque number from ‘Rock Follies’ or Alice Cooper’s ‘Only Wimmin Bleed’ (how’s that for a feminist connection) but sadly t’was not to be.
Right, onwards an upwards, I’ve got a script to watch and a DVD to read... Perhaps that’s where I’m going wrong? ;) Funny thing with Girls On Top – I’ve read quite a bit of the blurb but I haven’t seen any reference to Dawn French, Jenny Saunders or Ruby Wax yet. If Lenny Henry’s reading this (he’s an OU student, you know) perhaps he should have a word with the editors.
Boiiiiiiiing!
Ahhhh.... springy old spring... springy old spring spring...
Wasn’t yesterday lovely (yesterday as in Sunday, I mean, not as in ‘memories of green’ and childhood idylls, salad days and swallows and amazons etc)...
Because of my very interesting tootorial (well done, as per, Lesley) on Saturday shopping day got transposed (although I did buy a mallard for the freezer and a rather nice courgette and tomato tapas style thingy for my lunch at the farmer’s market on the way out of the AE centre) and we had to do that, but once that was done and dusted we had a lovely walk by the river and through the park (we tried through the river and on the park last year, but just got very wet and chased by a parky). The daffodils were doing their thing (sans Wordsworth – who needs an arrogant tosspot like that when you’ve got the real thing to admire) , the tweety birds were tweeting, the duk duks were a-paddle and the squirrels were running all over the shop looking startled like they always do. You’d think they would have gotten used to it by now, wouldn’t you?
So. We had a lovely lunch out (evil chicken from KFC, I’m afraid, but sometimes you have to relax a bit, don’t you, and there’s nowhere else on the high street that does free range in takeaway form), wished we’d dug out the bikes, threw bread to the mallards (how ironic) and all the other lovely springy style things that people do in spring. Then we came home and had a delicious evening meal of turkey and salad served with puy lentils and various olive-oil drenched delicacies (olives, red peppers (hot and cold), courgette, tomatoes, onions etc) with a delicious slice from a fig, sundried tomato and sultana rustic loaf we’d picked up reduced in Waitrose. Goodbye roasts! Hello cold collations! Hello birds, hello sky, hello trees... Fotherington Thomas, eh? He knew what he was on about, even if he was utterly wet and weedy (chiz chiz). I had red wine, Ben had seven up, BTW.
While in Waitrose we walked past the newspapers, and one had the headline ‘Jordan drove me to suicide’ with a picture of Alex ‘no, not in the face’ Reid next to it. I asked Ben what was wrong with the headline and he said ‘Well he isn’t dead, is he’. Dat’s my boy. At 13 and autistic he’s already got more going for him than yer average screws of the news reader, and he’s got great taste in salads too!
I had a brief look at the A210 forum (you can look, but you musn’t touch, you naughty boy, you) and saw the mod having a hissy fit because people have been moaning about the course content. Awwwwww. ‘You try writing like him’ [Wordsworth] he said (lol). I can’t play guitar like Chris Rhea either, but it doesn’t mean I have to think his music is anything other than Dire! (see what I did there, Chris Rhea/Dire – Dire Rhea. Tis an old joke but a worthy inversion, don’t you think?) I’ve actually enjoyed this section more than the others as far as the texts go, but thought the course materials more than a bit EMC (Emperor’s New Clothes.) Big Willy next – ooooh joy!
I enjoyed spotting Julie Covington on the DVD for Barbie’s Mansion too. I kept expecting a nice Prog Rock/Abbaesque number from ‘Rock Follies’ or Alice Cooper’s ‘Only Wimmin Bleed’ (how’s that for a feminist connection) but sadly t’was not to be.
Right, onwards an upwards, I’ve got a script to watch and a DVD to read... Perhaps that’s where I’m going wrong? ;) Funny thing with Girls On Top – I’ve read quite a bit of the blurb but I haven’t seen any reference to Dawn French, Jenny Saunders or Ruby Wax yet. If Lenny Henry’s reading this (he’s an OU student, you know) perhaps he should have a word with the editors.