Thursday 29th February 2024
Dear Diary,
Just popping in to confirm that I am still alive, because I know some of you worry when my gob falls silent, fearing I might have had a big fizzy and shuffled off this mortal coil, or been murdered by the men folk. So, to those who have kindly enquired of late, I’m fine on both counts, ta very much. :)
To be fair, Shane has expressed a desire to throttle me several times of late. We are having one of our rubbing each other up the wrong way periods. I often rub Dick up the wrong way too, but he likes it, so it isn’t a problem. You know, Dick, he can’t resist being rubbed: up, down, wrong, right, he loves it. He’s a total kinkster.
Jesting aside, the big man and me aren’t exactly best Yoga buds at the moment, we’re not feng shui. There is no harmony, just discord and dirty looks, from me that is, but only when his back is turned, because I don’t have a death wish.
Shane only has himself to blame for our lack of concord, because it was he who invited the devil into our midst. Penny, you mean, Gil? No. In this case, the devil is Jakob, the Norwegian vegan, or should I say EX vegan. Yes, you read that right. Didn’t I tell you? Jakob has recanted his veganism. But, Gilli, I hear you say, isn’t that a good thing? It makes life easier when he’s a guest. Wrong! He’s an even bigger pain in the arse as a carnivore than he was as a plant eater. I swear to God if he sticks his nose into my kitchen business one more time, I’m going to club him to death with a tomahawk steak.
Hopefully, he’ll be sodding off back to the land of the fjords on Monday coming. Shame it’s a Leap Year and there’s an extra day of February to get through before he goes. I do resent having an extra day tagged onto February. I mean, for fuck’s sake, why not tag an extra day onto a good month, like May/June/July? Why miserable February? It doesn’t make sense. Okay, it’s only once every four years, but still, I could do without it this year.
Oh well, I suppose spring is on the horizon, though no doubt, knowing the British weather, it’ll trigger a mini ice age, and we’ll be under snow until well past Easter.
I’m already pottering around in the greenhouse, pricking out seedlings, but don’t tell Dick, or he’ll get jealous. I’m aiming to grow more edible produce this year. ZZ, my garden helper, has a big allotment, of which I’m very envious, as I always fancied having one myself. The men folk reckon it would be too much for me, and I have enough on with the house and garden as it is. Anyway, ZZ has offered me use of a plot on his allotment to grow extra veg, so I’m looking forward to that.
On the Bits and Bobs front, I’ve stalled a bit, as haven’t had much time for scribbling with one thing and another, but I’ll get there at some point this year.
Anyroad, lunchtime beckons, so I’ll shut up and sod off. Stay safe and be happy!
Dear Diary,
Just popping in to confirm that I am still alive, because I know some of you worry when my gob falls silent, fearing I might have had a big fizzy and shuffled off this mortal coil, or been murdered by the men folk. So, to those who have kindly enquired of late, I’m fine on both counts, ta very much. :)
To be fair, Shane has expressed a desire to throttle me several times of late. We are having one of our rubbing each other up the wrong way periods. I often rub Dick up the wrong way too, but he likes it, so it isn’t a problem. You know, Dick, he can’t resist being rubbed: up, down, wrong, right, he loves it. He’s a total kinkster.
Jesting aside, the big man and me aren’t exactly best Yoga buds at the moment, we’re not feng shui. There is no harmony, just discord and dirty looks, from me that is, but only when his back is turned, because I don’t have a death wish.
Shane only has himself to blame for our lack of concord, because it was he who invited the devil into our midst. Penny, you mean, Gil? No. In this case, the devil is Jakob, the Norwegian vegan, or should I say EX vegan. Yes, you read that right. Didn’t I tell you? Jakob has recanted his veganism. But, Gilli, I hear you say, isn’t that a good thing? It makes life easier when he’s a guest. Wrong! He’s an even bigger pain in the arse as a carnivore than he was as a plant eater. I swear to God if he sticks his nose into my kitchen business one more time, I’m going to club him to death with a tomahawk steak.
Hopefully, he’ll be sodding off back to the land of the fjords on Monday coming. Shame it’s a Leap Year and there’s an extra day of February to get through before he goes. I do resent having an extra day tagged onto February. I mean, for fuck’s sake, why not tag an extra day onto a good month, like May/June/July? Why miserable February? It doesn’t make sense. Okay, it’s only once every four years, but still, I could do without it this year.
Oh well, I suppose spring is on the horizon, though no doubt, knowing the British weather, it’ll trigger a mini ice age, and we’ll be under snow until well past Easter.
I’m already pottering around in the greenhouse, pricking out seedlings, but don’t tell Dick, or he’ll get jealous. I’m aiming to grow more edible produce this year. ZZ, my garden helper, has a big allotment, of which I’m very envious, as I always fancied having one myself. The men folk reckon it would be too much for me, and I have enough on with the house and garden as it is. Anyway, ZZ has offered me use of a plot on his allotment to grow extra veg, so I’m looking forward to that.
On the Bits and Bobs front, I’ve stalled a bit, as haven’t had much time for scribbling with one thing and another, but I’ll get there at some point this year.
Anyroad, lunchtime beckons, so I’ll shut up and sod off. Stay safe and be happy!