Friday, 6 September 2013

As I see it...

Doris has two choices...
should she sink into grey-haired
crimplene clad blobbyness
become even more OTT
than is her natural bent?

She is obviously at a lifestyle crossroad.

The other day in a field...

Clad in pearls the size of gull's eggs,
her only nod to her advanced years.
Reef sandal clad feet with gold toes
glistening in the sun.
Pallazzo pants Kontiki would have been proud
to use as sails.
Flowing robes hiding a multitude of
undulating flesh.
All topped off with a pink hat resembling 
those sherbert filled dabs
she bought  4 for 1d centuries ago.

As she plied her trade, bucket in hand
she worked the crowd.
Her arms flew around like the sails
on a windmill.
Millers she has perchant for...
*(and as for her spelling... well?)*
that's a story for another day!

She greeted, she chatted, she by
fair means and foul
relieved them of their money.
Wasn't that after all why we were there?

Her fellow colleagues looked on,
distaste writ large on their faces.
Not at all the way we do things!

Another day, another cause...

After yesterday's meeting where she tried
oh so hard to put a sock in it...
she fell horribly at the last fence.


The epiphany moment has come...

Bugger it!

Let folk think what they want.

*Any idea anybod, why I fire these blooming posts off, then think to check the spelling...
Perchance I meant penchant.  And as for the other day, replying to my favourite blogging squeeze... you know who you are... Mr OW, nursing ... no not a hang-over, a migraine... well I mean to say...


  1. You're not responsible for what others think and say, just for how carefully you hide the bodies.

  2. Old-Lady graphic duly stolen and will be circulated at large on my facebook and entwitteration feeds, claimed as my own. Sorry, but that's just the way it is.


    1. Don't be sorry darling boy, I only nicked it from that nice Mr Google... or, as I pride myself on being strictly honest here... that devious, spying, probably doesn't pay much or any tax Mr Google.


  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. suffice to say, I have spent a couple of nights plotting revenge.x

    1. Revenge is a dish served cold, or kept lukewarm for long enough for the wee germies and buggies to work their magic. Serve with a flourish, don a sou'wester and be fully prepared to duck the projectile vomiting. Obviously it goes without saying, don't serve by the dralon swags and tails. Better still meals on wheels it round to their place of residence.

      How the divil are you lassie?


    2. Hi LL, I'm fine, thank you. Somehow I have lost my desire to blog, so have taken up my craft work instead - immersing myself in colours and textures and having a wonderful time. However, I always make sure that I dip into the salad bowl for my ration of 'lettuce leaves'.

      No doubt I'll be back, as the eyes weaken and the fingers stiffen.x

  5. The world needs more Dorises(is that how one writes the plural of "Doris"?).

  6. hilarious, the kontiki sails did it for me - I'm an in your face sort of humour girl! Mr. T says it has to be spelled out for me - subtlety I do not do! I do love your blog!!!!! thanks for your comment on my blog, I can't pronounce any of it but think it was a compliment!!!

    1. Now look here Jayne, are you saying I'm not subtle?

      I'm glad you like my blog; these days blogging is about all I can do. Now I've got my studio back from the summer visitors, I will make a start on my family history wall hanging. Sewing is so blooming painful that's the trouble. All these things we take for granted until we haven't got them... human nature I suppose.

      You seem well sorted, which I'm so glad to hear. Keep on doing good stuff with the leetle ole witches cauldron. Wandering round Scotney I often think of you when I see so much lichen blowing around on the grass.


  7. I wasn't brave enough in my last post to show my scrabble which read 'nice arse'...perhaps I should let folk think what they made me smile. Glad you finally found me. EE xx

    1. Nice arse... NICE ARSE? What are you worried about lassie? Although I've been there and have felt the same. Ian hits the nail on the head by reminding me (and you) that we are not responsible for what others think and say. I used to worry and do get my knickers in a twist about how men can get away with saying things that women can't. I have lost followers by some of the things I've said. But hey-ho from now on I've decided I'm going to be true to me. I've been blessed with an action-packed life and celebrate each and every day. Not a bad place to be if you ask me.


  8. Julie Cloth Shed grabbed me in Gateshead today.
    "Please put me out of my misery - who on earth IS Doris??"
    'fess up LL, is it really you?

    1. Made me laugh! You are awful!

      Alright, alright... ALRIGHT! No it's not me... Doris is my alter-ego. Now I've got this far I feel I ought to, much against my better judgement... explain!

      Doris is my mother's name, an old fashioned name, that I personally can't ever see becoming popular again. On the face of it, like Gladys, it sure isn't very appealing.

      Now my lovely mum... Doris had an interesting life, not in the conventional way. She suffered from depression, in part I think by the circumstances that she found herself in. One day when I'm brave enough I will, as this is a document of my action-packed life, write about her. She through her short life never to my knowledge ever said a bad word about anyone and believe you me, she had plenty of reasons why, she could so easily have done. For this reason I step away from the feet of clay shod me and become Doris.
      Added to which she is now free to say what she likes.

      My lovely mum died at the age of 48 of a brain hemorrhage, just weeks after I'd had Aaron. She has a very special place in my heart and I've often wondered what she would have thought of her wayward only child!