Chicken spitting.
Monty kipping.
Mr H. decapitating the Forysythia.
I will, a little later on, dredge up from the bowels of this computer, my rough draft of a magazine piece.
I can not write for grown-ups in offices who trawl through thousands of 'pieces' sent in by silly women who think they can write.
Seems to me that my talent for words is only suitable for the eyes of the few, not for the eyes of many thousands. I loathe self-hatred.
But after pecking at the chicken, I'll edit and scourge and tamper with my 250 words about middle-age.
Probably be left with one word. Invigorating!
Ta ta!
Showing posts with label Roasting birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roasting birds. Show all posts
Sunday, 25 July 2010
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Sunday's Are Such A Thing
Weatherwise it's a sweet Spring day. Sunny and not too chilly. Sky looked very big as I put a few things on the line, refilled the bird bath and feeders, and did some half hearted aerobics by the Buddha.
Cooking today is a small chicken and some veg. For pud a chocolate, orange and banana trifle. Will no doubt have a toasted cheese sandwich about seven.
Messed about with my hair this morning after I'd had some sugar puffs and a jammy bagel, I moussed it up and asked John what he thought. John said he preferred it flatter. So I smiled and then stormed off.
I bought stuff yesterday. On account of me having money.
A cream jacket, half price from Primark, God if it'd been any cheaper they might as well as let me have it for free.
Some golden cup hooks. A dozen for 99p. The woman in The Trade Counter who took my money looked like a Romany. I didn't offend her in any way in case she put the bok on me.
A bunch of artifical daffodils for mum. Would take up some of my homegrown ones, but I'm selfish and want to look at them.
Two packs of pretty floral notelets/envelopes. Very feminine indeed. But I will not buy notelets with cats on. I'm not that weak.
Hold Up Stockings. Because they make me walk better. And feel like a real woman.
A genuine diamante photo frame for mum. For Easter. She's girly and giggles a lot. Especially over fake diamonds.
A pair of Red suede shoes for me. Perfect for spring. Secondhand of course but that's alright, I'm used to it. The woman in the shop kept calling me "Darling". She was ok but very old. And had hair that looked like a brassy helmet. I liked her enormously.
A brown and white apron. Because I want to be professional in my new job. Sensible women wear protection. Brazen husseys do not wear pinnys. Well not when managing a home. Maybe after hours, I don't know.
Now I must attend my rapidly roasting bird.
Cooking today is a small chicken and some veg. For pud a chocolate, orange and banana trifle. Will no doubt have a toasted cheese sandwich about seven.
Messed about with my hair this morning after I'd had some sugar puffs and a jammy bagel, I moussed it up and asked John what he thought. John said he preferred it flatter. So I smiled and then stormed off.
I bought stuff yesterday. On account of me having money.
A cream jacket, half price from Primark, God if it'd been any cheaper they might as well as let me have it for free.
Some golden cup hooks. A dozen for 99p. The woman in The Trade Counter who took my money looked like a Romany. I didn't offend her in any way in case she put the bok on me.
A bunch of artifical daffodils for mum. Would take up some of my homegrown ones, but I'm selfish and want to look at them.
Two packs of pretty floral notelets/envelopes. Very feminine indeed. But I will not buy notelets with cats on. I'm not that weak.
Hold Up Stockings. Because they make me walk better. And feel like a real woman.
A genuine diamante photo frame for mum. For Easter. She's girly and giggles a lot. Especially over fake diamonds.
A pair of Red suede shoes for me. Perfect for spring. Secondhand of course but that's alright, I'm used to it. The woman in the shop kept calling me "Darling". She was ok but very old. And had hair that looked like a brassy helmet. I liked her enormously.
A brown and white apron. Because I want to be professional in my new job. Sensible women wear protection. Brazen husseys do not wear pinnys. Well not when managing a home. Maybe after hours, I don't know.
Now I must attend my rapidly roasting bird.
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