Sunday, 26 October 2014

The Stick

Most mornings I do enjoy the morning walk to work, cutting through a delightful, decently sized park that allows the avoidance of the junkies I would otherwise meet along the way.  And it mostly consists of me talking nonsense about things that are usually bumming around in my noggin while Heid looks on, thinking his own thoughts and hoping that I either make sense at some point or just give him some peace to wake up properly.

Well, Monday past, I was running late. 

Heid was having none of this and left, leaving me to rummage around the flat, swearing like a swearer because I couldn't find either my keys or wallet which then ended up being in my bag where I last left them.

Keen to catch up with the “long left ago” Heid, I made like a hip waddling speed walker for the park.  And there he was, a glimpse in the distant horizon. 

On this particular morn there had been a storm the previous evening and branches, leaves and sticks were simply just shat all over the park path.  (I should add here, while running/waddling through the park in “intent on catching up” fashion, I did infact REALLY enjoy stomping on branches creating a tiny bone crunching cracking sound, while in my head videos of 80s adventure movies were playing and I was taken to some jungle type scenario where I was running away from a big boulder that’s been set upon me by some baddies)

Before I had a chance to begin a running commentary of said boulder and baddies, I saw before me a corker of a branch layen “a-strew” by the park path.  And despite its pleas of, “LEAVE ME!!  DON’T TOUCH ME, GO AWAY!!! BECAUSE YOU WILL LOOK LIKE A MENTAL IF YOU BEGIN RUNNING THROUGH THE PARK WITH ME IN YOUR HAND”

I didn't listen.

The plan was instantly formed in what I deemed to be amusing which was catching up with Heid from behind and poking him up the arse with the stick.

There were several flaws to this plan.

1)  Heid had made good distance by this time, meaning I would really have to run far more than I would like in order to catch up. 

2) To others enjoying/not enjoying they’re morning park walk, I would just look like a woman running through the park with a big stick. 

3)  I wouldn't exactly describe the “stick” as a “big stick” but more like “part of a tree” seeing as it was around 6 foot long with several other branches and leaves still intact.

Still did it though.

Took both hands to hold it and run at the same time which made me move in a slightly unbalanced mental run type way.  
Despite this, I was running and laughing at the same time to myself because the image of what I may have looked like was amusing me.  (I will just say at this point, my fella, “The Heid”, was not any closer).

When passing/running/hobbling past a couple of council park workers, although I have the will to run through a park with a 6 foot branch I didn't have the will to meet their gaze, but I did see out from the corner of my eye that the heads did turn and the sight of me laughing to myself and running around with a stick managed to stop their conversation.

Still.  Onwards I ran.

Unfortunately, I blew my own cover, and as the branch tip barely met Heid’s arse, he turned round in time to see me out of breath, bent over, laughing with a 6 foot part of a tree.

Oh well.  Plenty more days ahead to be stupid.

Sunday, 5 October 2014

Letterbox Biscuit Face

I think what you have to do in life is take the ordinary and make it extra-ordinary. 

Take for instance the evening cup of tea accompanied by the Tesco own Fruitcake biscuit.  NORMALLY this is an act where you may be sitting, or you could be a little more “riskae” and stand, but preferably you are slobbing on the couch infront of some shit on the telly when you know you really should be doing something else.

Not me.

Often my fella and I like to improvise around a situation.  Why do something in an everyday normal day-way??

In this case, my mouth was improvised into a letterbox for the biscuit letter to be posted into.  At first, it was rather fun not only genuinely trying to make the mouth an accurate rectangular shape, thus imitating the casual letterbox, (do this infront of the mirror.  You’re not, not going to enjoy it) 


...and receiving the neatly rounded biscuit letter in full, but then the whole action seemed to develop into a fully rounded scene.

A little something like this…(in this instance Thom be the letter box, fella: the happy biscuit letter poster)

Happy Biscuit Letter Poster, of course whistling like a Happy Biscuit Letter Poster should do, strides toward letterbox that waits expectantly at the bottom of the street (we don’t have a street in our kitchen so, obviously, there’s a lot of walking on the spot action going on) reaches the letter box, pulls biscuit letter from pocket and begins posting action in a thoroughly self-satisfied way, but 


Halfway through posting action, biscuit letter has to be retrieved because, wouldn’t you know? Happy Biscuit Letter Poster has forgotten to put the much needed stamp on.  And do you know how annoying that is to have a biscuit letter being posted in your face and it not reaching the bottom of the letterbox?


Anyway, in the end, the letter was received and never read because it was eaten before it got to where it had to go.  And I’m not sure where that was.