I think I need to complain to someone higher up – I was bloody sure that I was suppose to be the Goddess of the Rainbow, messenger of the Gods; which in this day and age with emails and the such like, isn’t that taxing. No where in the job description does it mention that I’m the Patron Saint responsible for saving all small creatures from the cat.
I mean, I’m fairly use to the mice and voles – even the little Blue Tit of happiness, who’s freedom I battled for last week wasn’t too much trouble – but frogs? Look, granted it’s been rather wet around these parts of late but we’ve no ponds locally so where the hell did the Killer Queen find a bloody frog to bring home?
I’m sure that all that glitter has got to her – she thinks she’s a fairy godmother now and is trying to bring a frog prince back home. It left me with a bit of a problem as I’ve got to the stage now that I just open the front door and drop whatever creature I’ve saved on the front step, I could hardly do that with the frog.
It wasn’t that late as it happens about 12ish and Himself had only just come to bed, booting me off the computer in the process, but he wasn’t going to get up again was he? His response to the visitor? ‘Just chuck it out of the window.’ Hardly a member of the RSPCA. In the end I got dressed again – yes, learnt that lesson – and with a torch in one hand and the frog in the other, wandered down towards the fields.
Just as I was about to go through the hedge, the field in front of me lit up. No it wasn’t a remake of Close Encounters of the Third Kind - although it scared me half to death; it was the farmer on his tractor. Yes, turned 12 O’clock at night and the bloody idiot is cutting the hay ready to combine the next day. Thank the Gods I never actually got inside the field and that I’d bothered to get dressed first.
I dumped the frog in the ditch and legged it home bloody quick – only to find not only Himself but also next door leaning out of the bedroom windows to see what was going on. I didn’t bother to get embarrassed, after the quails they know what I’m like; my reputation precedes me – but they didn’t really need to take the Michael and ask me if I was now having frog legs for tea tomorrow, it was uncalled for. Himself has a big mouth.
I moaned to Himself about inconsiderate farmers only to be told that with the weather the way it was of late I should be feeling sorry for him. A lot of farmers were doing the same thing; they had to make the most of the dry weather and if that meant working through the night, they would. No I didn’t feel sorry for him – he kept he awake most of the night – unlike Himself who snored for all his worth.
Hence I switched the alarm off this morning and promptly went back to sleep. There were two lots of road works, with traffic lights on permanent red that then made my 5 minute journey into a 25 minute one and to top it all - its payroll day. Never mind the bloody farmer – I demand that everyone starts to feel sorry for me.
And I’ve got to go shopping tonight :-(
++++
Black and white pictures today …
I mean, I’m fairly use to the mice and voles – even the little Blue Tit of happiness, who’s freedom I battled for last week wasn’t too much trouble – but frogs? Look, granted it’s been rather wet around these parts of late but we’ve no ponds locally so where the hell did the Killer Queen find a bloody frog to bring home?
I’m sure that all that glitter has got to her – she thinks she’s a fairy godmother now and is trying to bring a frog prince back home. It left me with a bit of a problem as I’ve got to the stage now that I just open the front door and drop whatever creature I’ve saved on the front step, I could hardly do that with the frog.
It wasn’t that late as it happens about 12ish and Himself had only just come to bed, booting me off the computer in the process, but he wasn’t going to get up again was he? His response to the visitor? ‘Just chuck it out of the window.’ Hardly a member of the RSPCA. In the end I got dressed again – yes, learnt that lesson – and with a torch in one hand and the frog in the other, wandered down towards the fields.
Just as I was about to go through the hedge, the field in front of me lit up. No it wasn’t a remake of Close Encounters of the Third Kind - although it scared me half to death; it was the farmer on his tractor. Yes, turned 12 O’clock at night and the bloody idiot is cutting the hay ready to combine the next day. Thank the Gods I never actually got inside the field and that I’d bothered to get dressed first.
I dumped the frog in the ditch and legged it home bloody quick – only to find not only Himself but also next door leaning out of the bedroom windows to see what was going on. I didn’t bother to get embarrassed, after the quails they know what I’m like; my reputation precedes me – but they didn’t really need to take the Michael and ask me if I was now having frog legs for tea tomorrow, it was uncalled for. Himself has a big mouth.
I moaned to Himself about inconsiderate farmers only to be told that with the weather the way it was of late I should be feeling sorry for him. A lot of farmers were doing the same thing; they had to make the most of the dry weather and if that meant working through the night, they would. No I didn’t feel sorry for him – he kept he awake most of the night – unlike Himself who snored for all his worth.
Hence I switched the alarm off this morning and promptly went back to sleep. There were two lots of road works, with traffic lights on permanent red that then made my 5 minute journey into a 25 minute one and to top it all - its payroll day. Never mind the bloody farmer – I demand that everyone starts to feel sorry for me.
And I’ve got to go shopping tonight :-(
++++
Black and white pictures today …
7 comments:
And you think that demanding that people feel sorry for you will work do you? They don't actually listen out there honey bunch and it's not in my job description to feel sorry for you. To bug the life out of you? To shower your house in glitter? To poke fun? Yip! I'm yer woman.
Very tasteful pictures today my dear. I still like the sepia ones best. Chris does have his uses.
Well a bit of demanding never hurt anyone and if nothing else it unusually gets you some attention.
And what do you mean? Bug the life out of me? Haven’t you glittered me enough? Do you need me to send you some more 1st class tickets for a guilt trip – I can you know, only the best for you. No? Well bloody well behave then.
The photo’s, well I’m am artist you know – I’m just not saying which type of artist.
A make-up artist?
Px
Yes, something like that, preferably with a glass in my hand.
Diet coke or water in that glass - after all we're supposed to be on a diet.
Oh, is the stuff in the glass the reason that the focus sometimes seems a bit off? You told me that was arty-farty licence.
Cheeky Moo.
If the focus is off it's because it's meant to be. Soft focus, blending in shadows. Nothing at all to do with me never getting around to reading the camera manual.
Yeah, right!
Post a Comment