Personal Blogs

Son has been off skool since Tuesday as the Squitting and Vomiting came back. He’s been blessed with the ‘schoolboy friendly’ version, that is, genuine symptoms that only come out at night/early morning and leave the rest of the day free for killing zombies on X-Box  and watching Futurama DVD’s in sequence from episode 1 season 1 through to the last UK released movie. I tell you, if I hear Fry cutting his own medulla oblongata one more time it won’t be ‘Good news everyone’ for one certain little fan of the thirty first century...

Technically, he has been ‘well’ since Wednesday, but of course there are rools and regs about returning to skool after vomit and squitt attacks and these are even more complicated when skool is residential and a two hour journey away. He played a brilliant round of golf yesterday, though, paring three strokes from his current course record on the little nine-holer he generally plays...

Tuesday night was a swap around to go and see him in his skool summer production, ‘Pizazz’, and to collect him. Pizazz was wonderful – a veritable smorgasbord of Jazz hands and over-emoting with a cheese and ham ploughman’s thrown in. ‘Dat,’ as the great man once said, ‘is Showbiz’. Ben appeared in several sketches, including one where he appeared as a policeman, doing a small knees-bending dance routine of the ‘evenin’ all’ variety. Given the nature of his illness and the fact he was still in recovery it could have been a real disaster, but thankfully the muses smiled benignly on his efforts terpsichorean.

I’ve now finished my first read of the first book on my OU ‘Children’s literature’ course – Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve. As mentioned in an earlier blog, it’s not, IMO, the best thing since sliced bread or even slit baps but I can now I’ve finished see why it was chosen for the course. In essence, the closing words of the final chapter sum it up nicely:

‘You aren’t a hero, and I’m not beautiful, and we probably won’t live happily ever after,” she said. ‘But we’re alive, and together, and we’re going to be all right.’

‘Ere... you know them yoggits they advertise on telly that are really good for you and only contain 3% fat? If they’re soooooo good for you and so useful as part of a calorie controlled diet, how come that old salt off of Eastenders what advertises them has to hold her hand across her body all the way through the ad so it looks like she’s not filling the whole of the swing-seat? Perhaps she ought to ditch the creamy peach flavour and give the lettuce and tomato flavour a go? Wouldn’t it be refreshing to see an advert where she said something like ‘Lovely, creamy, peachy flavour, but don’t go too mental with ‘em, will you?’