Helen has tagged me. I am obediently obeying the tagging imperative. Did you all want to know seven more weird (in my opinion) things about me? That I haven’t mentioned before?
Ah well. It’s NaBloPoMo. I need blog fodder. Up with me we all shall put.
I am so, so scared of singing in public it isn’t […]
It’s S’s birthday today. He is 231 in dog years, and therefore highly deserving of breakfast in bed, a day at the art galleries, and all the peach bellinis a man can drink. So he got them.
S and I met when we were both seventeen, and both dating other people. One of the other people […]
Insomnia finally won the arse-kicking contest. This morning I got out of bed and walked heavily into the bathroom door-frame. Twice. I could see at least four door-frames before me, which wasn’t helping, also, I think I may have said something irritable. There’s a sort of lost half hour in which I seemingly did not […]
BT is spending the next few days messing with our phone-line. Either the Internet is there, or we can receive phone-calls, or neither, but never both. Don’t they know I have a NaBloPoMo target to achieve? Also, they are seriously interfering with my commentability. Sorry. I don’t hate you all at all, in fact I […]
I’d be posting on the 20th, in fact, I am writing this on the 20th, but BT has run gleefully away with the internet connection and who can say when you will be reading this.
[This applies in any case, as if, God forbid, this is all still up in ten years time, someone could […]
Library of Congress Subject Headings make no sense. I spent the morning wrestling with the definitive four volume 2005 edition, and they make no sense. Also, they make no sense to anyone else either.
I know, I know, I should have done my homework last week. But just think, if I had, I’d no longer be […]
Things I have done today:
Dressed in tracksuit bottoms so elderly there’s a couple of places you can practically read through them, and an orange tee-shirt of more than usual grottiness.
Read the newspapers.
Put a shirt wash on, then, later, hung said wash out to dry.
Washed the cooker hood (getting S to dismantle and remantle it, as […]
I had a lovely idea for a post. It was something to do with librarianship coursework, subject headings, and my poetry book collection. Unfortunately, I had said lovely idea while on a train, and when I got off the train, the idea dissolved in the drizzle.
I had a simply fantabulous post brewing about George Eliot. […]
We have a pointless, somewhat masochistic ritual in mid-November. We get in beer, and a takeaway, and our best bad attitudes, and we pile all these up in front of the telly and watch Children in Need until the small hours, bitching, kibitzing and sneering our way through the rice noodles. And then one of […]
Cheerfully, shamelessly, swiped from Charlotte.
1. Do you remember learning to read? How old were you?
Like Scout in To Kill A Mockingbird, I never learnt to read. My mother remembers playing with flash-cards with me when I was two or three, but I simply do not remember not being able to read, or being taught in […]
| M | T | W | T | F | S | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| « Jan | ||||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ||
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | ||
