Poem. I Care Not For Tomorrow

Under my skin vast planes of tenderness now run
all together a surprise tenant to my vacant soul
why when I imagined I was all dried out
did your warm waters crack my frozen heart?

In amongst the dried leaves of my life
your sweet stupidity galloped untamed
out of hand
flinging wildness in my path
you played like a boy

Unbridled
exuberant
in outrageous lilac and red
I skipped in mud


I care not for tomorrow


Angela Norris

Happiness v. Contentment

Happiness is two bars of Galaxy in a glass jar by the lamp
Contentment, eating half a bar in my pyjamas on the settee

Happiness is finding a 50p ceramic robin in charity shop
Contentment, finding a suitable place for it whilst the tea is brewing

Happiness is a good bouncy song on the radio
Contentment, listening to it whilst stepping into a blue sparkly dress

Happiness is having a optimistic life improving plan
Contentment, looking forward to simple things on a Thursday

Happiness is ooohing and aaahing over sexy underwear
Contentment, imagining the effect

Happiness is watching "Britain's Got Talent"
Contentment, looking forward to watching it whilst making a curry

Happiness is having fifty pounds
Contentment, having forty and not worrying

Happiness is being with like minded people
Contentment, accepting people with different minds

Happiness is roast beef
Contentment, spotted dick and custard

Happiness is a zingy spine shaking wake-up-you-bugger shower at 7
Contentment, lathering up in the afternoon

Happiness is birds, foxes and bumble bees
Contentment, Monty

Happiness is chatting to ordinary people
Contentment, talking to a Duchess

Happiness is writing a good heart felt poem
Contentment, blogging

I'm happy with contentment

Glo glows. But not with happiness, with contentment. There's a difference. I left work today feeling rather chuffed at what I'd achieved. Made a start on the my master's music room, re-arranged various front room knick-knacks in a more flamboyant, artistic manner and didn't get in a flap over the ironing. A job well done methinks.

And as I strode out to the motor with my shirt hanging out my jeans, my neck ached, but my mind didn't, and that's all I care about. My brain. The rest can go to pot, fall to pieces and go to hell, just as long as my mind is serene, I'm happy!
And that beggars the questions
What is happiness?
What is contentment?
I think a post is on it's way. I'll try not to do another long list. I said I'll TRY..
So, as my other master is on the long night shift, I'll just peck away at chips and ketchup and then, probably just after nine, rub cream into the craters under my eyes and fall asleep. Content.

A to Z of Housekeeping

A - Another cup of tea.

B - Bongo drums. Don't ask. Teenagers in the house.

C - Cooking. Plate it up. Nuke it. My stuff usually.

D - Dodgy plumbing. The house not the man.

E - 'The Echo' piles of them. All out of date. Everywhere.

F - Fires. I do dust not ashes.

G - Grapes. Shrivelled, black. Some in bowls others on floor.

H - Henry VIII and Henry the vacuum cleaner. Boss is obsessed by the King. I, with the rotten machine.

I - Ironing. Not in original job spec but at 50p per item where's the ironing board?

J - J-Cloths. Hundreds of them, Some tatty, some ironed...ha ha ha...

K - Knees. A good pair needed.

L - Lots of liquids. Water, orange squash, wine, disinfectant. Need the third one after the last one!

M - Mops, matches, Marmite.

N - Nice and tidy. For a day.

O - Ornaments. a.k.a.dust magnets. What is it about single men, metal boxes and ceramic fairies?

P - Pants. Over-sized and over the banisters. Grim but funny.

Q - Queen gets queasy after a barrage of jokes about body parts.

R - Recycling. Bins too many. Too full and too heavy. Having neck trouble as a result.

S - Sausages. Loads past sell-by date. Not my business. Not my fault. Well maybe it is my business. Out they go.

T - Tea. Couldn't work without copious amounts. Got my own mug. Large builders type. But with a daisy on it.

U - Underwear. Be prepared for shocks.

V - Videos. Be prepared for shocks part 2.

W - Washing. I'm half-load Ang. Love my environment.

X - X-rated language. Not from me of course. Innocent jocularity? F*** O**

Y - Yanking. Stuck drawers, stiff handles and unyieldly knobs. Usually upstairs.

Z - Zonked. Me. Fifty two. Five foot. But laughing. Another cup of tea...

Help Gimme all your money, gimme all your love...

Up to my ear lobes in dead spiders, smashed toy cars and Jack Daniels. Just another day at Ray's.
Tomorrow it's the other one.

Chalked on the wall for tonight.
Corned Beef again and chocolate ice cream again. Since I've been working my dinners have gone a bit awry. I'm shattered you see on account of three things.

1. I'm rubbish at time management.
2. I watch televised non-essentials like snooker
3. I fantasize too much.

I try to be organized and ordinary but my stupid sex-starved brain goes all silly and I end up with unused erotic garments, un-ironed shirts, fantasies about snooker tables and cheap corned beef.
Working sucks!

Queen Among The Brethren

On the kitchen table tonight:
Minestrone soup and crusty bread followed by jammy coconut pudding with custard. A queer mix but absolutely smashing.

But that was tonight's fare what about last night's fare at the Saxon Hall?

It started with possibly the best tomato soup I've ever tasted and was very slowly followed by roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, cauliflower, carrots and roast potatoes. And then and then and then Spotted Dick and thin custard. Culinary heaven. Everything was perfectly cooked and we were served by pleasant people. Could it get any better?

I was seated at a table for nine, and as I looked around at the great (judges and police people) and the not so great (ordinary businessman and kitchen fitters) I wondered about my choice of outfit. True, I had put it together well but the other birds there were more conservatively dressed. All that is except the elderly lady two chairs to my right who was wearing a white jumper emblazoned with a red cross. So wrong at eighty odd. But she was a joy to be with and later grabbed me for a dance.

The men wore ties and suits and I was very nicely placed in between two of them. Big chaps they were, one was my employers 'minder'. I got a kick out of that. It was kind of thrilling being with a gentleman who needs to be protected. But who was going to protect 5ft me. Why the burly man to my right of course...My boss. Er...He was slightly out of puff due to his dependence on two walking sticks. But he looked good.

So as the food was delightfully and almost silently demolished I hoped I wouldn't make a fool of myself when the singing started. Yes we sang. There were songs. Oh dear. The songs were in a very well crafted booklet which also contained inspirational verses, political quotes and pics of her Majesty. Ok I thought this should be a good bash and it was, until we were all handed plastic St George flags. And as the organist struck up 'There'll Always Be An England' I felt slightly queezy. It was more like a Nazi rally than a Freemason do, not that I know about Freemason parties but its flamboyance, fervour and unashamed patriotism had me reaching for a napkin. I was sweating.

And then we broke into 'Oh I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside' and I thought I'd have a quick look around. I saw an all singing, all smiling crowd of white middle aged folk getting slightly merry on beer and wine and I sang as well but it was not due to drink. I felt good. So I sang 'Jerusalem' with as much fervour as I could muster, my delicate chords though being mightily drowned out by much stronger voices.
But I did my best.

The wine flowed but not in my direction. I declined offers of 'top ups' and remained true to my wine spritzer. I also remained true to myself. Being a canny Londoner who comes from the bad side of the tracks I managed to secrete upon my lap and later into my handbag three crispy mint chocolates. The giant oranges proved more difficult. So on seeing them balanced upon my knees my gentlemen friend told me to pop them down my jumper. He is now recovering in hospital!

The evening raised a few hundred pounds for charity, the interesting eclectic mix of Essex people had a great time and I looked like a cross between Vivienne Westwood and a Dominatrix. Yeah I had a good time too...

The night ended with 'God Save The Queen'. I felt quite at home.
God bless you all...

Ladies and Gentleman Pray Stand For The Queen. That's Her Over There In A Lather.

Well the great day has arrived and as I sip my umpteenth cuppa I'm feeling more and more nervous. I have no idea what the other ladies will be wearing so I'm hoping my black and flashes of red ensemble works:)

I will be picked up by my gentleman in a lovely black car and be whisked away to a Saxon hall...I'm already wondering what time it'll end because I'm usually in bed by nine and I so don't want to fall face first into the pudding at half eight:(

Full report some time over the weekend:)