Leaning ever more towards the Buddhist way of life, I have been doing my best not to kill flies recently. This may sound nothing to you, but I can't stand them. Usually, dusting off the fly swat and making sure it is always to hand are key components of my getting-ready-for-summer routine. So today, when one really, really persistent fly just would not leave me alone, I tried to flick it away. I was cooking, and had no free hands, and had to resort to tossing my head like an impatient horse, and contorting my body in a weird dance. Anything to not feel its prickly little feet on my skin and then lose my temper and kill it. But the fly went too far and settled on the end of my nose. A particularly violent toss of the head and I lost my grip on the blue glass bowl in my hand, which fell to the floor and smashed into a thousand smithereens. I swore - a lot. As I wearily swept up all the bits, the fly stayed cautiously on the ceiling. I am sure it was laughing at me. Anyone watching me from outside would certainly have been splitting their sides.
With horror I realized that I didn't write one single blog the whole month of May. I apologize to those of you who actually like reading it. Especially to those people in the far-flung corners of the world who, for some obtuse reason, seem particularly fond of my meanderings. I know they read it, as Google kindly lets me know. And we are all aware of how Google likes to share personal information, are we not? Speaking of which, I think I have finally persuaded my mother - erstwhile computer-phobe - to join Facebook. Mark Zuckerberg should pay me, for she is not the first person I have enticed into his kingdom. And probably won't be the last. Anyway, it is not without pride that I announce this to you, as she has insisted for years that wild horses wouldn't drag her there.
CG is about to return from a jolly jape in Macedonia. I told him not to bother bringing me a souvenir this time. I can find better things in the village shop, and believe me, I don't say that often. No, it will suffice to see his fluffy face again and hear his prognoses of long-term doom and damnation. And maybe he can kill the flies, which keep my conscience and our supply of crockery intact.
With horror I realized that I didn't write one single blog the whole month of May. I apologize to those of you who actually like reading it. Especially to those people in the far-flung corners of the world who, for some obtuse reason, seem particularly fond of my meanderings. I know they read it, as Google kindly lets me know. And we are all aware of how Google likes to share personal information, are we not? Speaking of which, I think I have finally persuaded my mother - erstwhile computer-phobe - to join Facebook. Mark Zuckerberg should pay me, for she is not the first person I have enticed into his kingdom. And probably won't be the last. Anyway, it is not without pride that I announce this to you, as she has insisted for years that wild horses wouldn't drag her there.
CG is about to return from a jolly jape in Macedonia. I told him not to bother bringing me a souvenir this time. I can find better things in the village shop, and believe me, I don't say that often. No, it will suffice to see his fluffy face again and hear his prognoses of long-term doom and damnation. And maybe he can kill the flies, which keep my conscience and our supply of crockery intact.
You are thousands of miles away from me and yet I have been fighting flies and breaking glass bowls and swearing as well. Sharing in these common struggles makes the Atlantic Ocean seem somewhat smaller, doesn't it? No? No, I guess not...
ReplyDeleteNot really, dear Jennster xxxx
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