Things about me, you probably don't want to know...

however...

(don't you just love that word?)

I'm going to tell you anyway!

I'm self-opinionated

and worse than that, from a know nowt

standpoint.

Having led a rich and varied life,

good, bad and doggone UGLY.

I've always got a story to tell.

You know the sort...

we've all got friends that have been there, done that...

Well folks, that's me!

My spelling has got increasing worserer.

I don't know when to use apostrophes,

so pepper them willy-nilly throughout my prose.

I write exactly as I speak, cliche is my middle name!

I try oh so hard, not to use the exclamation mark, because...

'It's just so common!'

I want to write, but am too frigging

lazy.  I started the other blog with just that in mind,

to chronicle my life. 

 To write about the pain, but feel it somehow

disloyal.  Slapstick and froth is my style of choice.

I've drifted through life on a haze of

cheerfulness, never applying myself for long to any one thing.

I've had so many exciting jobs, by just waffling my way through the interview;

in the days of course, when you could.

Hobbies & crafts I've tried by the barrow load.
Just too many to mention...
Jill of all trades.....

Self-sufficiency - five years in the Highlands -
the croft and the man bit the dust.
'When poverty knocks on the door, love flies out of the window'
How true!

 My father who was a gentleman, through and through,

often looked at me, his only child, with wonder.

No, no no, not the sort you're thinking of.

Fear and wonder, at how this fat bird appeared in our nest;

cuckoo-like I romped away.

Through men I've cut a swathe: leaving broken hearts in my wake,

those were the days!  Couldn't do it now,

wouldn't want to, I'm happy.

 Having seen the wonderful 
Michael Mosley's Horizon programme on fasting, 
two days a week we consume 600 calories.
It suits us, our BP is dropping, our waistbands are no longer taking the strain.
Things get done... i.e. the potager is looking pristine, 
the kitchen is being prepared for a make-over.
All due to me being hungry and needing to take my mind off my rumbling tum.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are 'the days'.
Because of my
'Trying not to think of Food' on Tuesday,
working in the garden, has resulted in my thumb throbbing.  So
 here I am sat at the laptop, fully intent on listing some things on ebay.
But Hey Ho... I am blooming blogging instead.

Where to next?
What cunning plan is afoot now LL?
Well seeing as you're asking...
I've signed up for a Starting to Write Poetry class.
Trouble is at this stage, group numbers aren't great,
so that might be another mad-cap scheme of mine that doesn't even get off the ground.
Brace yourselves if it does; you can see it all now... 
my blog will be plastered with poetry. 
  Up to now my prose has been only targeted each
Christmas at my grandchildren, Charlie and Hope;
who I'm sure read it with pretend interest and polite
amusement.

I'm off now to check on the items that I can bear to part with;
will I be able to bring myself to list the Slingsby trolley
I wonder?

It looks for all the world as if it has just stepped, or should say rolled
off the set of...
'Murder on the Orient Express'

If you are interested, please get in touch.
I ought to say, it weighs a ton and is truly a magnificient beast.

Starting at fifty quid.

Shall I be brave enough to include an ebay
link on my blog?
The family will then see how little I spend on their
pressies, not to mention my penchant
for size 20 big pink knickers

Toodle pip!

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