Glimpsesofcolour

I finally did it! Yes, I matched Steve Tomkins’ score of 185 in Word Twist on Facebook, and am now joint first on my friends’ ladder. Oh frabjous day!

Secondly, is it just me, or does anyone else ever listen to Cream’s ‘Tales of Brave Ulysses’ and when it gets to the line ‘Her name is Aphrodite’, feel an uncontrollable urge to sing ‘And she wears a flannel nightie’? No? Just me, then.

Thirdly, the daily headache has shifted to the other side of my head. I am not sure this is an improvement.

I note that an expensive silk flower catalogue that came through my door has a supplement under the title of ‘Summer Sale’. Summer??!! It’s March, for goodness’ sake! We haven’t even put the clocks forward yet! When do they have their spring sale – December?

I spend a lot of time at the moment listening to iTunes and playing Solitaire, which when I was young was a game with pegs and a hole in the middle, but is now what we used to call Patience (clearly the Americans, from whom this new nomenclature comes, have no Patience).

Any road up, iTunes classifies songs as Pop, Rock, Country etc, and I often disagree with their choice and change it myself (for instance, that lovely ballad ‘Never my Love’ by The Association is classed for some reason as rock). So I was listening to Serge Gainsbourgh and Jane Birkin’s breathy offering ‘Je t’aime – moi non plus’, which for some reason always sends me into gales of laughter, when I noticed that the iTunes classification for it was neither rock nor pop but simply ‘French’ – which sent me into even more laughter. Clearly French music is a law unto itself!

Facebook seems to think that because I am a fan of The Bible, I will also want to be a fan of Sarah Palin. This is extremely worrying.

Now if they’d said Michael Palin, that would be a different matter….

So there I was, idly leafing through a catalogue of original presents, when my eyes fell on a heading which read ‘Swallow Clothes Pegs’. Why ever would I want to do a thing like that? Picking up my eyes again, I next noticed that on the same page I was instructed to ‘Can Safes’. It seems to me that one would have to have exceptionally large cans. Finally, lower down the same page, I was exhorted to ‘Cut Flower Food’. Well I ask you – do I look like someone who consumes flower food and needs to cut down on it? Who writes this stuff?

Yesterday I found it extremely hard to get out of bed. But I did. Then I found it just as hard to make myself walk to the gym and had a swim. But I did. And finallly it was pretty hard to make myself go out and meet a friend. But I did. So that’s three very hard things I did yesterday.
Today I only did one hard thing, which was getting out of bed. Then later I went back. Some days are like that.

In spite of not having woken up till 10.45 am (well, I was awake at 8.00 but failed to get up, and fell asleep again), I have spent a chunk of today tweaking the book outline I wrote the other week, and sent it to my publisher. This feels exciting! Of course in a recession she may well say, ‘Sorry, you aren’t selling well enough for us to publish another book by you’, but I will never know without trying. And if they say no to it, I can always try another publisher or try to get an agent. I’m feeling like a real writer again!

You’d think that someone called Weider, who wanted to open an exercise equipment shop, would think twice before calling it by their name. Somehow ‘Weider Fitness and Health’ doesn’t quite have the right ring…

Searching through my stats, in particular the search terms, which turned out to include ‘rude places’, I am reminded that yesterday after leading worship I sat down next to a church friend and during a conversation on the swiftness of time, I quoted ‘my days fly faster than a weaver’s shuttle’. Which would have been fine except that after the word ’shuttle’ I paused for a moment and then found my lips and voice forming the word ‘cock’. All on its own. Fortunately the friend was the sort to which one can say such things, even in church…

Yet again I overslept and left too little time to go swimming in between breakfast and lunch. However, I made it to the carers’ relaxation day in time for lunch (which, having had breakfast at 10.00, I didn’t really need) , followed by ‘healing’, from a lady who laid hands on my head for a long time and claimed she was giving me extra energy. I wasn’t entirely convinced, but it was quite pleasant anyway. I then had a face massage which was fine except when she slapped me on the chin rather hard and repeatedly. Apparently it helps with lymph drainage.

Was so relaxed after all this (it’s good when it stops) that I felt like going straight home, but I managed to get to the gym, have my swim and jacuzzi time, and get home minutes before my son. I am Superwoman!

Tomorrow is a regional conference of the National Autistic Society at which I’ve booked for a workshop which I’m sure seemed very relevant at the time, but the subject of which I’ve now entirely forgotten. Have to be at Baker Street at 9.30 which is a time of day I didn’t think existed on Saturdays.

Have just noticed that the word ‘time’ appears at least five times (six!) in this post – is my subconscious telling me something? Must be a side effect of being mistaken for a pensioner the other day.