The world of Di Venn

New Blog

2006-10-25T10:09:00.000Z

Hi guys...my new blog is over on http://www.aboutlife.com/divenn so head over and check it out there!

Sound of the Underground

2006-03-15T13:36:00.001Z

Last night at Pastorate we got on to discussing where the earth dug out to make way for the London Underground had gone.

We know the Northern line earth made Primrose Hill but any ideas on where the rest of the earth from the other lines went?

Answers on a post card to Mr Mackesey

Running

2006-03-13T13:29:00.000Z

Even though I run at least one 10K a year I still don't count myself as a runner.
I'm not sure even after having done a Marathon that I would.
The problem is that first 15 minutes, it doesn't matter how far I run the first 15 mins always make me want to turn back and head for the shower.

It took several years for someone to tell me that lots of people feel like this, for a long time I only ran for 10 mins and then walked as I couldn't cope with the feeling that my lungs were going to explode.

It was in Denver when someone else signed me up for a 10K that I finally broke the barrier and low and behold by minute 16 I was enjoying running and felt like I could carry on...at least for another minute.

Why am I reminiscing about running? Because yesterday I went for my first run with Richard and it was the most enjoyable run I have done yet. It was only a few K but I loved chatting away as we headed round Clapham Common and know that it will become a favourite past time of ours. If I hadn't originally pushed through the 15 mins though I would have been sat in the flat and would probably be a stone heavier!

So I encourage all you non-runners out there to give it a go and push past the 15 min mark.
Try it...you might just like it!

Slave labour

2006-03-09T13:25:00.000Z

Recently there was a push to reduce the working hours of new doctors which I am so very glad about. I certainly wouldn't want to be operated on by someone who has been on the go for 36 hours.

What worries me more though is the hours that the leaders of the country have to work. They have to read papers before they start their breakfast meetings, they then work through lunch have meetings over dinner and get home very late in the day when they are presented with the lovely red box. The paper work from that normally takes a couple of hours and then they can start thinking about constituency work.

How on earth are they supposed to keep their family life going amongst all that?

I'm very grateful to have such dedicated men and women working on the policies of this country.

Ambassador...you are really spoiling us.

2006-03-08T13:06:00.000Z

Last night I went with the big boss to the Chinese Ambassador's residence for dinner.
Now given my current job that is not very surprising but as we sat down for I had an overwhelming feeling gratefulness for my parents and the way they brought me up.

I am guessing that when we sat round the table in Swansea and they taught me to use chopsticks (I think I was about 8), they probably weren't contemplating that I needed to be taught the etiquette for a meal with the Ambo. However, they did it because they love me. So thank you Mum and Dad!

Unfortunately I didn't listen so well when they taught me to pace myself.
I thoroughly enjoyed the first two courses, felt a little full by the fifth, bit the head off a marzipan panda on the 7th, refused the 9th and almost burst on the 12th. I have seriously never eaten so much!

And that was all after eating some chunks of cheese...oh yes it's a top tip. If you have to go out to dinner with your boss and know there will be quite a bit of drinking then line your stomach with a little milk and eat some cheese, it's amazing at soaking up the alcohol!

Getting up

2006-03-07T13:34:00.000Z

This morning I woke to the sound of my radio talking about a story that had just leaked from the Government which is never fun when you are one of the few people with prior knowledge. Suddenly everyone is a suspect and the investigations are never fun, but then I reassure myself that people would know I would never sell a story to the Sun...or so I hope.

Anyway I jumped out of bed and headed to HTB's prayer meeting for those in Politics. What a fab way to start the day. Worship and prayer followed by a great breakfast and lots of networking, maybe not everyone's cup of tea I admit but I had a blast.

I've already had an invite to go to dinner with one party...any other offers?

Salami Mafia

2006-03-06T17:29:00.000Z

I work in a very quiet office and when things get just too darn quiet (or it's 2pm and time for the Archers) I pop radio 4 on the web. It has been babbling away in my ear for a couple of hours now and my attention was just caught by 'the Food Programme'.

They were discussing Eastern European food and some guy launched into a rant about the Salami Master in Hungary.

Now, I visited Budapest last year and saw no evidence of an evil meat wielding mafia, they may be underground but then I did go and venture into the stalagmite subterrane there but there was no evidence there either.

So if you know more about the maleficent sausage preponderant please let me know.
Or maybe you have knowledge of Hitler's replacement in Germany, Heir Wiener?
How about the UK? I think Bernard Matthews rules our hot dog gang.

Happy St David's Day

2006-03-01T08:00:00.000Z

Here's why us foreigners are wearing daffs today.
St David's Day is celebrated in Wales on 1 March, in honour of Dewi Sant or St David, the patron saint of Wales. Little is known about him for certain. What little information we have is based on an account of his life written by Rhigyfarch towards the end of the 11th century.

According to this Latin manuscript, Dewi died in the year 589. His mother was called Non, and his father, Sant, was the son of Ceredig, King of Ceredigion. After being educated in Cardiganshire, he went on pilgrimage through south Wales and the west of England, where it is said that he founded religious centres such as Glastonbury and Croyland. He even went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where he was made archbishop.

He eventually settled at St David's, in south-west Wales, where he established a very strict ascetic religious community. Many miracles have been attributed to him, the most incredible of which was performed when he was preaching at the Synod of Llanddewibrefi - he caused the ground to rise underneath him so that he could be seen and heard by all.

From the 12th century onwards, Dewi's fame spread throughout South Wales and as far as Ireland and Brittany.

Now March 1 is celebrated by schools and cultural societies throughout Wales. It is the custom on that day to wear either a leek or a daffodil - two of our national emblems - and for young girls to wear the national costume. Children have singing, dancing and poetry competitions in their schools as well.

Do you remember the Fast Show?

2006-02-24T13:23:00.000Z

Now, I do enjoy a bit of Little Britain, but there has been no comedy team better to steal catch phrases from than the Fast Show.

One of my favourite characters was Jesse.
Jesse emerges sporadically from his shed to inform a waiting world about his diet, with the words, 'This week I 'ave mostly been eating...'
Food items which form Jesse's weekly obsessions have included:
Roast chickens
Bourbon biscuits
Taramasalata
Acorns
Prozac
Raspberry pop-tarts
And more surreally 'This week I 'ave been mostly wearing Dolce & Gabbana

So in honour of Jesse, This week I 'ave been mostly eating Haribo.

E-mails are great

2006-02-22T17:23:00.000Z

Here is my favourite e-mail conversation that I've had with a friend today:

DV: I'm eating salad after my lovely, unhealthy breakfast of a sausage buttie, but salad really is so boring. Luckily I happened to get some mini doughnuts just in case, so will launch into those soon ;o)
I am so useless at not eating lard!
Why in a world of survival of the fittest do we crave sweet and fatty foods that are no good for us?
I can honestly say I have never craved a nice bowl of spinach even though it does taste ok and is very good for me.

Reply: The era of survival of the fittest is over.
Just look at the world's only super power - it's now the era of survival of the fattest!
Some people would argue that I have my cause and effect muddled here - and that Yanks only got lardy once they had achieved world domination and could sit back on their arses, shovel in the fast food, rely on calorie saving mod cons (microwaves rather than fresh food, the automobile, the remote control, the stair lift, the bath crane - it is an effort stepping into the bath tub after all!) and only pull the finger out when in need of the "can".
But I say no!
The US rose to power once it had fat people!
The west was won in part by General Custard, while the US civil war was waged between troops pumped up on The Colonel's secret fatty KFC chicken recipe and the union troops led by Ulysses S Grant - a man so lardy he used to command battle from two horses - swopping periodically when one beast became so weary under its burden that its legs would have been unable to convey the great general from the battle field at sufficient speed, should the need for hasty withdrawal arise.
Meanwhile the chubby workforce lived off their shrinking waistbands during the great depression, and in so doing, stole a march on us skinny Europeans who were too peckish and worn out to get stuck in once wall street sorted itself out. Pittsburgh 78 had the heaviest front line in NFL history and came to dominate the US' favourite sport, while fat boy Billy Bonds excels at their national game by swinging his steroidal belly behind his rounders bat and clobbering home runs.
The annual tally of home runs clubbed continues to swell year on year, while the average US waistband does likewise. Coincidence?? Arnie lost the muscles and became a lard arse, and then swept to power in California. Oprah and Ricki rule the airwaves - but only now they walk like puddle ducks and can relate to rotund guests they drag on!
It is compelling evidence.

You reckon I should do some work now??

In honour of Mrs Jenkins

2006-02-22T13:34:00.000Z

Last week my surrogate grandmother passed away.

Her name was Mrs Jenkins and she used to be the post mistress for our village in South Wales. She can't have been more than 5 foot tall, had soft, short white hair and a smile that lit up her face

Mrs Jenkins became friends with my mum when I was very little and although she was in her 70s she was full of energy and became the favourite baby sitter.
I used to love her coming round as she lavished us with attention and was full of love. I remember standing on the coffee table in the middle of the lounge and singing my heart out for her at some point during most evenings.
As all my grandparents lived in East Anglia they were rarely around during my school years so it was Mrs Jenks that came along to sports day, the recorder concerts and school plays, thus she became a wonderful surrogate Grannie.

But my favourite memory was the school project I did when I was 10. We had to interview the older generation about their memories of the Second World War and so I had hours of fun talking with Mrs Jenks. I forgot to record half of what she said but it didn't matter, I just loved hearing her talking and watching her light up as she reminisced about her hubby who she'd lost many years before. She also got me an A in that project!

Mrs Jenks was also the one to make my childhood dream come true. When I was 8 knowing that there might not be any marriages in my family for a while she arranged for me to be a bridesmaid to her grand daughter, which in my memory was the most magical day I had ever experienced at that time.

As the years went on we didn't need a baby sitter any more and so we saw her less and less. I would visit occasionally when I had a new haircut or a good report to talk about but I didn't go enough.

In recent years I went a few times when I was back in Swansea and I always wrote at Christmas but I hardly ever phoned. A few weeks ago I agreed with my Mum that we'd phone her when I went to visit my parents this weekend as we knew Mrs Jenks hadn't been well enough to write at Christmas.
But this weekend will be too late.

I hope she knows how much she meant to me and that I meant to call. I never stopped needing her even if I didn't let her know it.

We found out not long ago that her first name was Gwen, so next time I become Grannie Gwendolyn it'll be for my Welsh Grannie Jenkins.

If you've got a lovely Grannie (surrogate or real) please give her a call today or send card and tell her how much she means to you. We only have the privilege of time with them for a certain period so send her a bit of love today.

How we impact others

2006-02-21T14:00:00.001Z

A friend sent me this story today, it will make you think...

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school.His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
"He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face.
It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.He said he had gone to private school before now. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.
I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes.
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college.
Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem.
He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd.
He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak

Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school.He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days.
I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends... I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."

I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
"Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realise its depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse.

God puts us all in each others lives to impact one another in some way.
Look for God in others.

Torchlight trampolining

2006-02-20T13:56:00.000Z

In the news today was a story about how the London Olympics may have big problems with power cuts.
Just imagine it, we have Cliff Richard singing away at the opening ceremony along with the cast of Phantom while the Women's Institute march across the field waving flags and drinking tea and suddenly the whole thing blacks out...I hardly think so.
I admit I may be a little cynical but I can't imagine the Government allowing that to happen with the whole world watching.
It is far more likely that if there is an energy shortage then they would reroute some energy supplies and plunge Wales into darkness for a month or so.

On the subject of Olympics, how on earth do people get involved with curling?
I have a theory that they were in fact all previously janitors who were so good at sweeping the floor that they turned professional.

(For those of you that didn't find the humour intended in this post I should point out that there are of course hard working people who will spend the next 6 years making sure a black out doesn't happen, thank you for that Simon)

What would a wooden leg cost?

2006-02-17T13:17:00.000Z

Today I learnt the origin of an expression.
You see, 200-300 years ago in George Washington's day, there were no cameras.
One's image was either sculpted or painted. You may note that paintings of George Washington sometimes show him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back while others show both legs and both arms.
Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. If you weren't aware, arms and legs are limbs, therefore painting them would cost the buyer more.
Hence the expression "It'll cost you an arm and a leg."

This leads me to think about other pieces of art such as the Venus de Milo, how much money did they get off for the lack of limbs there? And did Ken Livingston think he was opting for the cheaper option for the Trafalgar square fourth plinth?

A controversial post perhaps but I'm going to blame it on the low blood sugar.

Chuckle

2006-02-17T12:57:00.000Z

A guy goes on holiday to the Holy Land with his wife and mother-in-law.
The mother-in-law dies.
They go to an undertaker who explains that they can ship the body home, but that it'll cost over £5,000, whereas they can bury her in the Holy Land for only £150.
The guy says, "We'll ship her home."
The undertaker asks, "Are you sure? That's an awfully big expense and we can do a very nice burial here."

The guy says, "Look, 2000 years ago they buried a guy here and three days later he rose from the dead. I just can't take that chance."

Boots

2006-02-15T12:34:00.001Z

I think I've officially found the most incompetent shoe shop in the country!
I shall elucidate on this claim...

Yesterday I decided to celebrate surviving two crazy days in the office with a spot of retail therapy and after a spot of browsing for a bit I came across a lovely brown pair of boots.

Now I should explain that for years boot shopping for me has been a struggle as due to my exiguously minute calves most knee highs make me look like I've donned a pair of hip-waders.
Thus finding a pair that fitted as snugly as a pair of Jilly Cooper jodhpurs was very exciting for me.

After trying them on I agreed to take them and the lovely young lady disappeared behind that magical curtain to the land of Spareoom which is filled by trees that grow lovely shoes.
Now what happened behind that curtain I shall never know, perhaps she met a fawn, rode a sleigh and became a queen, all I know was that she certainly was in there a long time before she reappeared with my lovely new boots.
I worried a little when they said they didn't have any bags left big enough to fit the box so would I be happy to leave the box. But trying to be kind and patient I said that was fine.

The excitement really kicked off when I got back to the office and tried them on to show them to a colleague. Suddenly I was again wearing hip waders that actually made it impossible to walk, though they could be handy as there was at least the space to hold a lipstick, wallet, rhino, kitchen sink…
Was it a dream? Did the boots only fit in the shop or had my calves just swelled under the exhilaration of shopping?
My lovely colleague fell into a fit of giggles at my state of stupefaction and suggested they might not be quite right as I tripped and fell back into my chair.
It was at this point that I looked at the soles and saw I was actually wearing a pair of size 9 boots!

Now being Welsh and female I can only imagine what it would be like to be over six foot tall or have large feet and so size nine wasn't quite what I had tried on originally.

Today I toddled back to the shop with a sense of apprehension that only the British have when taking back clothes, but glad that I had my little feet ready to prove I was never a hobbit.
I started to explain the problem to the assistant when she suddenly set off on a ten minute rant about boxes, apparently they won't accept exchanges without "the original packaging". I tried to explain that due to their lack of resources that the bag in fact was the "original packaging" but she wasn't having any of it so I tried to change to logic and say that if she gave me the new boots she could keep the box and put the size nines in it without losing anything…but that apparently was not policy. After a rather lengthy outburst she finally decided that she could do it but "just this once" at which point I feigned enormous gratefulness and decided to remind myself in the future that I actually look pretty good in fishing gear anyway.

When I try them on later I look forward to wearing my two left boots.

Valentines continued

2006-02-14T13:58:00.000Z

Actually I have got my dodo...;o)
I'm not sure that is what he would want to be called but one definitely flew past today.
(okay, for the pernickety ones I acknowledge that dodos may not have been capable of flying, you're ruining the imagery though!)

This morning I woke to the sound of pennies hitting my window, unfortunately I did not leap out of bed thinking that it was Valentines day and that I was about to be swept of my feet.
Instead I grumpily stirred a little and after a while of hoping the pings would go away I jerked back my curtain ready to eye ball which ever local yob thought it hilarious to pin windows at 7am.
There was no one there, so I assumed it must have been an armour plated pigeon which had moved on and went back to bed.
So you can imagine my querulous expression as I wrenched back the curtain for a second time...only to be greeted by my man standing with arms outstretched and the biggest grin you've ever seen.

I'm not sure what the neighbours thought of the beautiful aria being blasted from the car but I loved it and to be presented with a dozen long stemmed roses and a card first thing on Valentines day just felt like a dream.

So thank you to God for creating romance and for making sure all the good ones haven't been taken yet and thank you Richard for getting up and going to the market at 5am…I haven't stopped smiling today.

Valentines Day

2006-02-14T13:56:00.000Z

Happy Valentines day guys!
I just adore the fact that there's a whole lot of love being talked about today.

I looked up some traditions for the day to see what I could learn, check out this wealth of knowledge:
In the 17th century a hopeful maiden ate a hard-boiled egg and pinned five bay leaves to her pillow before going to sleep on Valentine's eve. It was believed this would make her dream of her future husband.
It may also leave her with seriously breath in the morning.

About 3% of pet owners will give Valentine's Day gifts to their pets.
Now I am very much a dog kinda girl but this is as sad as getting excited over an anonymous card that was actually sent by your Grannie every year.

Some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.
I'm thinking if you see a magpie you get someone who worked for Enron, if it's a seagull then he'll probably be a politician and if it's a dodo then you get the perfect guy!
I feel sorry for the woman who just got pooped on by a pigeon in Trafalgar Square as I reckon that she's now getting an estate agent!

Chopsticks

2006-02-10T08:30:00.000Z

This morning, following limping on to the number 88 bus, yes the self imposed bucking bronco incident is still causing partial lameness, I sat down ready to deliquesce into my lovely carpeted seat and enjoy the before 8am peace and quiet.
Unfortunately some unthinking proletarian had other plans and put their phone onto uber loud so that when it rang the whole bus would be forced to listen to their ingenious ringtone revealing their evidently jocular nature.

I know you are now curious as to what mirthful tune they could possibly have chosen for the event to culminate in a whole blog posting, so I shall tell you. Chopsticks, yes chopsticks or kuay tzu as the Chinese say. Can you believe it?

Out of all the symphonies in the world why on earth would you choose such a puerile and monotonous composition?

Perhaps it was to bring back the memories of rebellious, pubescent behaviour in music lessons, just as the smell of semolina for me takes me back to the challenge of sneaking the whole bowl into the bin before the corpulent dinner lady with the Hitler moustache caught us. But why would you want to remember chopsticks?

But then Austin O'Malley did say "Memory is a crazy woman that hoards coloured rags and throws away food."

Ski exercises

2006-02-09T16:52:00.000Z

Now I've been skiing here is my advice for exercises before you go to get you prepared:

Soak your gloves and store them in the freezer after every use.

Fasten a small, wide rubber band around the top half of your head before you go to bed each night.

Put on some sun glasses and smear the lenses with glue so that you in no way can see.

Throw away a fifty pound note now.

Find the nearest ice rink and walk across the ice 20 times in your ski boots carrying two pairs of skis, accessory bag and poles. Pretend you are looking for your car. Sporadically drop things.

Place a small but angular pebble in your shoes, line them with crushed ice, and then tighten a G-clamp around your toes.

Buy a new pair of gloves and immediately throw one away.

Secure one of your ankles to a bed post and ask a friend to run into you at high speed.

Go to McDonald's and insist on paying £8.50 for a hamburger. Be sure you are in the longest line.

Clip a lift pass to the zip of your jacket and ride a motorcycle fast enough to make the ticket lacerate your face.

Drive slowly for five hours - anywhere - as long as it's in a snowstorm and you're following an 18 wheeler.

Fill a blender with ice, hit the pulse button and let the spray blast your face. Leave the ice on your face until it melts. Let it drip into your clothes.

Shove your face under to grill to get that nice rosy glow.

Dress up in as many clothes as you can and then proceed to take them off again because you have to go to the bathroom.

Ride a bucking bronco to put your knee out of place and don't go see a doctor.

He he, I did enjoy it, honest!

New school cockatiel

2006-02-09T03:00:00.000Z

I miss Wales, just check out the sort of news they have there.
This was on the BBC website!

New school cockatiel after theft

Dwynwen is named after the saint's day on which Coco was stolen
Children at a primary school in north Wales have welcomed a new pet cockatiel, donated after their previous bird was stolen in a break-in.
Coco the cockatiel was taken along with his cage during a burglary at Ysgol Llandrillo, near Corwen, last month.

An appeal went out for Coco's return, but a new cockatiel, named Dwynwen, has also been donated to the pupils.

Dwynwen, named after the saint's day on which Coco was stolen, is said to be quieter than her predecessor.

'Same love'

Coco, described as a "part of school life", would sit alongside pupils in class and join in singing rehearsals for the children's eisteddfod, according to head teacher Gwenda Owen.

Ms Owen said pupils were left "very upset" after Coco was stolen on the night of 25-26 January.

Ms Owen said: "We've lost material things like computers, the keyboard and the cameras, but we can have those back.

"We've had the bird in, Dwynwen, but we haven't had Coco and we are hoping that Coco will have the same love wherever he is now as he had with us in the school."

While pupils and teachers have said they hope Coco will still be returned safely, a new cockatiel called Dwynwen - named in honour of the saint's day on which Coco was snatched - has been donated to the school.

According to the pupils of Ysgol Llandrillo, Dwynwen is less disruptive that her predecessor, who pupils described as "very noisy". Pupil Amy Hawking said: "She likes us to stroke her - Coco didn't like that. "Coco was very noisy, but Dwynwen's nice and quiet."

Another pupil, Amanda Helsby, added: "When we were signing, Coco used to join in. Dwynwen's voice is a bit higher."

I survived!!!

2006-02-08T20:35:00.000Z

Well I'm back from a week of skiing and yes I am alive with no broken bones.
Photos to prove I went: http://www.pixum.co.uk/viewalbum/?id=2032235

I did however have brief moments where I wasn't in control and this poem did come back to me when a chair lift jolted to a halt 100 feet above a scary mountain side.

Enjoy every minute of today guys, you're not going to get it back!

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER (By Erma Bombeck)

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the GOOD living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I wasn’t there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later, now go get washed up for dinner.”

There would have been more “I Love You’s” and more “I’m sorry’s” but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute ….. Look at it and really see it… live it. And never give it back.

Organised

2006-01-30T16:00:00.000Z

I like being organised.

My friends who read this will laugh as it is what I have become known for. When I was younger and watching Friends Monica's organisation was sadly something I aspired to have rather than laugh at.
Maybe it would be cooler to be known as laid back or good at archery but no, God has given me organisation.
That is why I got very excited to come across this packing list: http://www.travellerspoint.com/packing-list.cfm

I am going skiing tomorrow and I now feel so much more relaxed knowing I have a list, how can I possibly forget anything now?
I think the problem is going to be the 15kg weight restriction on the luggage, but that's an adventure myself and Miss Hulse love having.

I'll be back in a week to blog on the joys of skiing!

Want to be in a music video?

2006-01-27T20:00:00.000Z

Paws for musical mayhem

If you've always wanted to star in a music video, now's your chance.

Blur's Alex James and Alison Clarkson, aka Betty Boo, have joined forces for their latest musical venture and will be filming the video for their first single in London this weekend.

The duo, aka WigWam, have enlisted the directing talents of Trigger Happy's Dom Jolly's for the day and are calling on all music fans to head down to Dean Street to see their live performance.

And, in true Trigger Happy style, the pair will then be chased down the Soho street by dogs and human cats!

It promises to be a colourful event and onlookers could get a chance to feature in the video. Head down to Soho Street at midday on 28 January to catch the group perform their new single live.

Snowflakes

2006-01-26T16:00:00.000Z

Looking out the window there is a deeply grey sky to been seen. The type of sky that excites me most as it looks like it might just snow!

One of the things that I love most about the snow is that I know every single flake is unique. It amazes me that God would take the time to form every single flake.
So why when I know this do I doubt that I am important enough for God to bother with?
How much more unique has God made me than those snowflakes?
I am uniquely me. Not just physically but also in heart and mind.

I guess people are a little like snowflakes, we are all unique and ultimately we will all disappear. Some flakes land somewhere cold and go on for years. Others land on the sea and are part of this world for mere moments.

I know like the snowflake I won't be on this earth forever, my physical presence will melt away but I am so glad I know that won't be the end

The Big Bad Bug

2006-01-25T20:00:00.000Z

A man was sitting down watching his tv one evening, when he heard a loud knocking on his door. Wondering who on earth it could be, he jumped up to answer it. There, standing before him, was a large beetle who proceeded to beat him up. The man took himself down to his doctor with his cuts and bruises and explained the whole situation to his doc. "Hhmm," said the doctor, looking at his wounds, "I'd heard there was a nasty bug going around!"

At the moment I have what is know as the 'common cold'.

What I don't understand is the point of this illness. I did biochemistry so I know it's caused by a virus...probably a Rhinovirus. (If you are very strange and want to cuddle one go to this link http://www.giantmicrobes.com/health/commoncold.html)

But what benefit do these fuzzy blue things get from making my nose and cheeks bright red, making me sound like I have an IQ of 12 and producing a stream of viscous glup which uses 33 boxes of tissues to mop up?

Surely in order to proliferate and pass on to others it would be more effective for this infection to make me look more attractive and feel more sociable?

Perhaps not, but for now I shall take up the discussion with my Olbas scented hankie in the hope that I shall be able to breathe again before the weekend.

Ambitions

2006-01-25T16:00:00.001Z

If you can start the day without coffee or pro-plus,
If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
If you can eat the same food everyday and be grateful for it (even rice pudding),
If you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,
If you can overlook people taking things out on you when, if through no fault of yours, something goes wrong,
If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,
If you can face the world without lies and deceit,
If you can conquer tension without medical help,
If you can relax without alcohol,
If you can always sleep without the aid of
drugs or a really boring book about Philosophers,

Then...........................

You are probably the family dog or just a far better Christian than I.

Dogs are quite lucky aren't they. My Mum's pup Tinkerbell gets to eat, sleep and play all day, wouldn't it be nice if we could all do that?
Mind you perhaps if I'd been are born into a royal family or even to the Hiltons...

Not quite Plato

2006-01-25T02:30:00.000Z

So what have I been up to of late?
Well I have been trying to expand my little mind (yes it is very little) by reading some basics on Philosophy and do you know what I learnt?

That Philosophers seem to die in the most bizarre ways.

Here's a few that have inspired me:
Francis Bacon died from pneumonia while trying to freeze a chicken in the snow on Hamsted Heath.

Descartes popped off following too many early mornings.

Aquinas and Epicurus both died on the lavatory.

And my favourite and the way I hope to go- Chrysippius the Stoic went laughing at his own joke.

Maybe one day I'll say something that will make me laugh enough to get a cold.

To blog or not to blog

2006-01-25T02:00:00.000Z

I've put off starting my own blog until now because everybody I know who has one seems to be either pondering along with Plato or writing the scripts for Seinfeld.

However, I figured as I constantly bore others with e-mails, texts and those beautiful Christmas letters, why shouldn't I share the burden of my poor friends by going web wide?

So here I am!