the lay-by of life.
Even with a gentle service...
plugs, points and nibbles greased...
there is no way this old banger will ever soar
(sore more like!)
Hard shoulder here we come!
I wouldn't mind but I've even taken to wearing knickers.
That really should tell you the state of decay that has overtaken me.
For the C in commando now read C in Combinations...
BIG ones too!
I'm just in from a little genteel one-handed gardening; take it from
me, you can't get much more refined than light weeding with the left hand.
Triple-layered, double muffled, knicks and jogging bottoms
(or should I say jiggling bottoms)
I still felt the cold.
As I sowed a few seeds in the greenhouse, the thought occurred
this is what my life has come to...
getting my thrills from sowing seeds as opposed to...
wild oats.
Yesterday after admitting to buying from Amazon,
yes, they who wriggle out of paying much (or any) tax;
I discover on reading in today's F.T. magazine
that they are, not to put too fine a point on it...
not very good employers.
As I flopped on the sofa feeling every one of my 39 years (fib),
I got to thinking, along with my supple bod where has my social conscience gone?
My strop levels have dropped like mercury in a thermometer.
Gone are the days, and not that long ago, when in the perishing snow peppered day I stood revolting outside the Chilcott enquiry, in order to send a message to
Tony Bliar as he explained away his 'innocence' in taking us into an illegal war.
Grim photo, I know, however
that's exactly how I felt that day, as I walked up
Whitehall carrying aloft my black pashmina appliqued with
'Bliar' and red hands dripping with blood.
Every stitch I might add, sewn with passion.
Whichever way you look at it, turning a blind eye,
buying cheap, is another word for greed.
Perniciously it has crept up on all of us, without us really realising the full import
of where it will take us next.
Yesterday after admitting to buying from Amazon,
yes, they who wriggle out of paying much (or any) tax;
I discover on reading in today's F.T. magazine
that they are, not to put too fine a point on it...
not very good employers.
As I flopped on the sofa feeling every one of my 39 years (fib),
I got to thinking, along with my supple bod where has my social conscience gone?
My strop levels have dropped like mercury in a thermometer.
Gone are the days, and not that long ago, when in the perishing snow peppered day I stood revolting outside the Chilcott enquiry, in order to send a message to
Tony Bliar as he explained away his 'innocence' in taking us into an illegal war.
Grim photo, I know, however
that's exactly how I felt that day, as I walked up
Whitehall carrying aloft my black pashmina appliqued with
'Bliar' and red hands dripping with blood.
Every stitch I might add, sewn with passion.
Whichever way you look at it, turning a blind eye,
buying cheap, is another word for greed.
Perniciously it has crept up on all of us, without us really realising the full import
of where it will take us next.
"...the lay-by of life..." I do like that phrase very much!
ReplyDeleteThanks Elaine, I'm waiting for the AA!
DeleteLLX
Chin up ole thing and press on. I suspect you have a special kind of true grit, you wont be in the lay-by of life for long.
ReplyDeleteJean x
Jean, I'm very much afraid my big end's gone!
DeleteTrue Grit... isn't that what they put on the roads at this time of year?
LLX
I love the photo! I'm sure you haven't really lost your mojo. I tried a bit of garden tidying the other day and skidded on the moss, poked my eye with a dried verbena stalk & ripped a gash in my finger with a blade of pesky "ornamental" grass - it's too cold & murky for such exploits - give it another month!
ReplyDeleteHumpf! Not even my best side!!!
ReplyDeleteSorry to say Nilly your gardening exploits did make me smile. A call from the local Elf and his mate Safety might be in order; or at the very least their helpline number.
LLX