THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE !

I once discovered the meaning of existence, lying in bed after some excellent Tibetan dope. I couldn't find paper or writing implement so the secret was lost - although I think it was, basically, " I am the carpet, the stone, the bird . .we're all ONE ! " You try telling that to the d.h.s.s., to get extra benefits, and you soon realise the limits of enlightenment ;/

SOME ARE MORE EQUAL . . .

I once tried to blag my way into the V.I.P lounge at Heathrow airport.
The guy on the door said " But you're not a V.I.P."

Without a moments hesitation, I replied, " We're all V.I.P.'s . . No-one is more important than anyone else in this world ".

That made him chuckle. He let me down gently by saying,

" You wouldn't like it in there - it's dull and the people aren't very nice "

HEAVEN'S PETS

My wife's elderly Aunt Betty & Whitney Houston both died this weekend. If it's busy in Heaven, do you think they'll share a room?

Aunt Betty had the same first-name & birth date as Her Majesty the Queen. Things generally turn out better, if you ARE the Queen.

Somebody's deceased dog could, maybe, be their Heaven-pet? It'd be nice to have a dog in Heaven. You wouldn't have to buy any dog-biscuits . . but you could still go for walks.

R.I.P. Nan, Whitney and dog ;]

THE MIND WANDERS

I tell you this story because I think you might be able to empathise.

Last night, the my wife and daughter had gone upstairs to get ready for bed
(very long job in teenage daughter's case). It was about 11.30 p.m.

For some unfathomable reason ( possibly to amuse myself, whilst I waited for the bathroom to become free) I decided to sharpen a large chef's knife, on which I've been trying to get an edge.

I decided to try the 'butcher's steel' for this purpose. Somehow, I must've misjudged distances, because on the 5 or 6th downstroke I managed to pass the knife - with a firm slicing motion - across the top of my thumb.

Much blood and mopping with kitchen-towel. Quite deep, getting near half a cm; I pondered whether it needed stitches. It eventually stopped bleeding, I found some kiddie plasters with cartoon characters on ;] and watched t.v. for an hour to make sure that the wound had stopped bleeding.

My wife was first up this morning and was greeted by something resembling a war-zone, with blood-soaked tissues and plasters, scattered thither and yon'.

As I said to her, " I'm definitely getting an edge on that knife. I could have done that a week ago and it wouldn't even have cut me! " =D

Trouble is . . I can't bend my thumb for the next few day while the wound closes up. Can't play guitar ( world heaves sigh of relief ) and it may adversely affect my D.I.Y. productivity :(

Wife says, " What productivity? "

I say, " Ne'er mind. There's always a silver lining. I think I may finally have proven Einstein's theory of relativity - that, in certain circumstances, Time can actually go backwards!! "

C'est la vie :/

HOLIDAY DISCONNET - I MIGHT JOIN A CLUB

As we hit the middle of the seemingly never-ending Xmas/New years break, here's a thought I expressed to my wife, earlier today.

As is usual for us, over the holiday period, we haven't heard from ANYONE in several days. As I said to my wife:

" Now, I understand why people join clubs. If my bladder can last the length of the service, I might start attending church - JUST TO MAKE NEW FRIENDS ! "

It's a part of the human condition, I guess . We don't go out to work. Our daughter takes herself off to college and we are no-longer involved with other parents. Our own parents have all died. Many of our friends/workmates have died.

Our closest and most similarly-aged rellies, who lived in this town . .emigrated to Oz!

It's now 12 years since we moved half-way across the country. People gradually lose interest in, " Those jumped-up folks who moved away, somewheres. 'Thought the grass was greener etc, etc. TRAITORS! "

And, in a final irony, my wife's brother and family who used to live an hour & a half drive away ( part of our reason for moving here) . . have since moved half an hours drive from where we used to live!! . . .and their eldest boy ( one of our fave nephews) has recently married & moved to Toronto!! :s

Me . . join a club? Yep . . just post me the application forms.
Anything to the left of the K.K.K. . .and I'm your man ! =D

Medical Matters

I went see my doctor today. In-between discussing my minor ailment, we covered:

1. Whether sharks or jellyfish are the biggest threat to Ozzie & South African swimmers Doc said: 'Hippos bite people in half and they're not even in the sea.
2. The fact that the French like steak raw and the S.Africans want it burnt to a cinder.
3. Annoying people. I mentioned some S.Africans and some female Asian doctors who'd annoyed me.

And this was only a ten-minute appointment! Ya gotta love Dorset ;]

Cleaning Stew From The Ceiling

It happened like this:

It was about 4 p.m., already getting dark in post 'clock-turning-back' Britain. My wife was fussing about in the kitchen, cooking tea. I could hear her grumbling and cursing when she dropped stuff ( which is often).

All of a sudden, there was an almighty crash and much cursing. She'd done exactly what I did, about a year ago, when I scalded my hand. She'd taken the casserole out of the oven and put in on the gas hob - from whence it had slipped, distributing beef stew all over the floor and the cupboard fronts.

Luckily she didn't scald herself and the casserole dish didn't break. She's been in a funny mood for about a week, so i thought it best to herd her from the room & set about cleaning up.The first 'sweep' went fine . . just the gravy to mop up. I resolved to wash everything thoroughly and return to the stove. Beef stew is not to be wasted.

Having calmed down, my wife returned and helped with the cleaning. We thought we'd got everything ship-shape when we looked up and discovered that there was also stew all over the ceiling ! I went & got the steps and we soon had it sorted. Beef stew is still on the menu . . but we won't be telling our teenage daughter about some of the more unusual stages in its preparation.

So . . if someone were to ask - like a detective - exactly what I was doing on Oct 2nd at around 4p.m., I'd have no trouble at all with my alibi.

" Me, officer", I'd reply, " Why . . I was cleaning Stew from the ceiling, of course. "

Case closed ;]