Tuesday, 12 March 2013

As I slathered Factor 30 on my face...

I got to thinking...
That seems to be all I do these days...
Must confess it's usually

 What to do next for badness?

  As I prepare to brave the snowy wastes, is it essential to 
slap on sun cream?
Could this be the reason why my face befits
a nubile young wench (well in candlelight and with a following wind)
and my body represents
those contour maps made of plaster of paris; so beloved by town
planners trying to con (oops sorry, I mean convince) the local folk as to why their village would be greatly enhanced by a new housing estate.  The centre of which would have sitting proudly, a huge black man-eating spider. 
More commonly known as a super store. 

  How will I last until Hilary finishes the trilogy?
My reading life has been on hold, since book after book I've thrown out of a moving train
window, as yet again another tome just hasn't cut the mustard.
I suppose my other great love...
Thomas Hardy might fit the bill till then.
I've got the complete works on my kindle; although since I've got it in my head that
kindle do to books, what Readers Digest do, (condense them) I can't bear to open it.

Just had a thought, I've got the complete works of 
Macmillan's Pocket Hardy.
Instead of chuntering on, I can do a comparison test with
'Two on a Tower'
The first chapter starts...

'On an early winter afternoon, clear but not cold, when the vegetable world was a weird multitude of skeletons  through whose ribs the sun shone freely, a gleaming landau came to a pause on the crest of a hill in Wessex.'

Already I'm hooked on the idea.
This will I'm sure, shoot my crazy imaginings into touch.

  The news that antibiotics will cease to have any effect
in the not too distant future, has decided me to just learn to live with my arthritic thumb.  Smugly I said to Ted
'Well, we'll be okay as we don't ever take them!  When we do need to, they'll work!'
Wrong!  Apparently.

  Will the frozen pond kill the frogspawn?

  Why, oh why did I, on that warm day (was it really only last week?) get carried away, and plant out the seedlings I'd grown from the seeds gathered last autumn.  
Shouldn't I know by now not to?

  Is this blogging lark just displacement therapy?

 Should I finally bite the bullet and walk the four steps to my studio and sort out
the cupboard contents left to grow like stalagmites on the floor?



  1. Please keep on with the Displacement activity! Then I'll know that I have at least one fellow traveller...

    As for the factor 30 on face and woolly layers on rest of body, I pretend that it's all padding against the bitter cold and that underneath it all is a youthful slim body.

    And you can content yourself with the words of a skin doctor whom I heard years ago on the radio. He said that if you want to see what sun & weather damage does to your face just by being exposed on a daily basis, look at the skin on you bottom (through a mirror I presume as I can't do the contortions). That's assuming you don't walk around naked outside, of course!

  2. Yes LL, Ms elegancemaison is right - I believe we bloggers are all doing the dreaded Displacement Activity.
    Displacement Therapy is the thing that cures phobias, fears and addictions, not that any of us need THAT.