Wednesday, 27 June 2012

'What can I do next for badness?'

is a refrain that is often heard reverberating around the ole homestead.

Reasons why I'm a handful...

1.  I'm an only child, never EVER spoilt

2.  I have a high pain threashold (what's that got to do with the price of cheese  in Woolworths?) and wait for it...
a low boredom threshold

3.  Excitement courses through my veins,
and without a some madcap scheme to keep me occupied the
inevitable words 
'I'm bored' 
escape from my rosebud lips. 

4.  My head is always full of ideas,
some of the more notable ones... 

Hampers in the Highlands
Living a self sufficient life on the NW coast,
I came up with the idea of supplying hampers
stuffed with home-made delights
to the folk in holiday cottages.
In the eighties certainly not heard of...
Well perhaps Fortnum and Mason's.
Trouble was I was too tired with spinning, knitting, milking, cheese making,
bee keeping, peat digging, veg growing - you get the picture! 

On the farm in the Vale of York...
Worm farming, ice cream making,
101 uses of cow muck...
brickettes for burning,
a fragrant fire you'll agree
bricks for building,
you've heard of wattle and daub
and so on.

A high point was my idea to open a 
Wholefood Transport caff
Selling absolutely NO CHIPS!
Eggs in the form of egg white omelettes,veggie burgers,
served with a myriad of salads
Bulgar wheat, quinoa, cous cous 
Beans of all sorts, colours and hues...
Wind by any other name
Seeds, to make the truckers bounce with health 
Wholemeal bread, buns and baps.
Cakes, of the healthy kind. 
Flapjacks, with only a passing nod to their first cousin - 
the breeze block.

Decaff tea served in bone china mugs
Peppermint, feverfew, chamomile and Roos
Decaff coffee passed through the cleansing waters
of a melting glacier.

A gym to ease their tired bodies,
Shelf upon shelf of mind enhancing books
The broadsheets, no red top here.

A diary of drop-in self improvement events
Pilates, tai chi, zumba, yoga
Massage upon request...
a quick rub down with a damp FT to
invigorate mind and aching bod.

My son Aaron on being told of my cunning plan
pored scorn on the idea.
I'd like to say from a great height, although that would be a
slight exageration, due to him rolling around on the floor holding his sides.

Is it any wonder, that I'm hugely misunderstood?



  1. I momentarily read that as "What can I do next for baldness?"
    I can't decide whether I'm disappointed or relieved.

  2. No BADNESS... as in madness. I rest my case!


  3. have to say I read it the same as Nilly above, although I must 'fess up to having just read tuning fork as toasting fork.
    Spectacles where art thou?

    One of my "better" ideas (and I use "" wisely here) was a mobile van selling cake-and-custard. All flavours £1.00, all homebaked...alas cake-and-custard lovers are few and far between at hardy outdoor-type events so I ended up eating most of it myself.
    Hmmmm perhaps not a bad idea after all then!

  4. mmm...spectacles needed here too...I thought initially you had found a miracle cure for baldness.
    Julie x

  5. I think we're back to the cow muck, a cure for baldness.

    Unfortunately there isn't a cure for badness.

    As you may have guessed, I love the use of words that are wrong, yet strangely right.

    Happy days,