Bitter Sweet Symphony Part 1

Further to my Christmas message I am going to do a New Year review. It's that time of year after all. The title comes from a track by a pop group called the Verve. A nice bunch of lads from the North of England, I believe.
Lets get "bitter" over with first. In February my mother's cousin died in Morecambe, or to be pedantic, a hospice in Lancaster. You all know about my mother's death earlier this month. 2007 will not go down as a good year in the family annals. I lost two of my closest relatives.
And then the sweet. My sweet, Hester, to be precise. We are both gobsmacked by the whole thing. I told you before we have been acquainted with each other for over twenty years. It is only since September that we have got into an intense relationship. Maybe making up for lost time, or just realising we want to go for it because we both feel it is right.
Hence the bittersweet in the title. One door closes and another opens. Maybe that is the way love works. I don't know.

Marteen's Christmas Message

Who needs to be regal to pontificate on things? Our dear queen encapsulates her year in her speech, but despite my respect for her, I have to say, she is not the only one who can do this. I am fortunate to be able to speak openly and on a regular basis with this blog. It is a liberty I would fight to protect. There are many who would like to subjugate and suppress the likes of me, but they won't.
There is much wrong with the world. Wars are never far away. There always seems to be one going on somewhere. I hope Deacon Barry and others are wrong, and Iran is not the next target of American imperialism, but I will not die of surprise if this turns out to be the case. We may be behind our "American cousins" in some respects, but when it comes to barging your way about the world and forcefully telling people to live their lives the way we do, they have a lot of catching up to do compared to the Brits, but they are trying their hardest.
It's virtually impossible for me to do a post without mentioning the McCanns. This is not the time to reiterate some of the things I have said. I hope there is a happy ending to this story. It is difficult to hang on to the fact that this is real people's lives. It so smacks of "show time". I would love to think that Madeleine McCann is still alive, but I fear the poor wee mite is long gone. Possibly by accident, but still gone.
My own life has had it's twists and turns in the last year. My mum had two spells in hospital, which was challenging. Not least because it is a nightmare trying to park in the grounds of Edinburgh's premier hospital. A rant for another day.
You may think it bad of me to say so, but I am glad it is all over. The mother I once knew was long gone. We used to go on holiday together, collaborate on crosswords (she was always much better than me) and share things despite we were very different in character. Latterly she had no quality of life, which depressed me, and she was in a lot of pain. At a time of year when people celebrate life this is probably not what you want to hear, so I will give it a miss now.
All the best to you and yours. I wish everybody, especially those who have the good taste to read this blog, a very merry Xmas. Make what you will of it. Stuff your faces with excess food, but don't do a guilt trip afterwards.
For me, I am going to write to people. People I care about. And tell them I do. It makes me feel good that I will have done so. It is so important to me. Enjoy.

Doin' My Best

Donate Here Flyer
Not sure about this cut and paste thing but it seems to have worked. Check out the link above. I have come across these ladies before and I admire their work. I do my own bit for charity although that consists only of giving money to various causes. I have actively helped charities, but not for some time. I feel a bit guilty rereading this because part of my initiative lately is to get back to doing the things I did before the problems with my legs started, and in this respect I haven't. Will have to give that one serious thought.
Instead of buying flowers for my mothers funeral I asked people to give a donation to the National Osteoporosis Society. Although pneumonia was her primary cause of death, severe osteoporosis was noted on the certificate. It doesn't kill by itself. It's the complications it brings that do the deed.
So, the next time you are feeling charitable have a think about these two causes. If you give a donation to either or both causes or give to another charity I hope you will feel the better for it. We have so much in the Western world and we don't appreciate it. Look kindly on those who are less fortunate. It could just as easily have been you.

Brum, Brum

You can take this title two ways. Such is my wit. Due to restrictions being recently lifted I can now report that my beloved Hester lives in the Birmingham area. She still has an important person to tell about "us", which I hope she does soon, but we crossed a major family "hurdle" at the weekend, for which I am happy for her.
I don't call her beloved for nothing. She means so much to me.

I am currently listening to my CD called "No Angel" by Dildo. She has a lovely voice, even if her name is a bit strange. Am I missing something here?

The other meaning of the title refers to motor racing. Hester and I are both Formula 1 fans. We both love the racing although there are other reasons. Fit young men in their Nomex overalls provide an attraction to both of us.

Talking of fit young men, I have just had one visit my door. He was trying to sell me Virgin Media. Sounds great but I have been down that road before. I wanted to do Virgin Broadband earlier in the year. Tried to sign up but they wanted the first payment by Credit Card, which I don't have. So I thought, I'll get one from good old Virgin. They refused me for some reason. I guess my reputation goes before me! So I am with BT instead. Ho Hum.

Going back to the racing, Lewis Hamilton has been in the news today for losing his licence for speeding. Nearly 200k on a French road. He drives at almost twice that speed on Grand Prix tracks! He probably thought he was going slowly when French plod pulled him over!

Aftermath

I love the above pic, and my mum would have done too. She was a great animal lover and left a bequest to the World Wide Fund for Nature in her will. I have always had a soft spot for equines and zebras are closely related. Its quite a cute image as well. I don't usually go for cute but affection is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. Affection for those like my late mother, and her cousin who passed away earlier this year, and my affection for Hester who has rapidly become a big part of my life. If I hadn't "come out" a few months ago the relationship we have would never have happened. I have always seen myself as an honest person but now I am finally being honest with myself about who I really am. I can accept now that I have "a foot in both camps". So, if George Clooney turned up at my door tomorrow I would be severely tempted. But don't tell Hester that!
Sed lady has got me into this txting thing. Like my speling wasnt bad enuf! Aparently al the kids r doing it these days. Its fun and very infectshus. Nxt thing u no she wil b byin a hoodie and a skatebored! (My spelling checker has just gone into meltdown!)
Done emotional, tick. Done mildly amusing, tick. All that's left is to have a go at the McCanns! What Marteen post would be complete without it. Did I mention that I believe every word everybody involved with this affair says? So little Maddy is going to be home for Christmas now. That's great. I hear Santa and the Tooth Fairy will be attending the lunch. Hope I get an invitation. Want to take along my favourite unicorn for her to ride. Told you I love horses. And I can do surreal too, but not as well as them!

Semiversary

Been pigging out on nostalgia recently for reasons that will soon become obvious. I have now done just over 100 posts since I started, and I've been rereading some of them. Although I set out simply to have a platform from which to rant, having been denied that by the Radio Times letter page for years, I have covered a lot more ground than that. If I was ever fortunate enough to be nominated for an award it would be difficult to categorise this blog.
There is the ranting of course. The "McCann Circus" must have been in town even before I started this blog. It has provided the inspiration for many posts and I would certainly give them a mention in an acceptance speech. But other stories have provided the stimulus for a rant as well.
I try to do my best with humour. I guess some of it will work for some people and some will work for others. Hopefully I have entertained everyone to some extent, at some point.
And I have shared my life with you. The highs and lows. A fellow blogger once commented that I write from the heart, and she is right. I might (well actually I do) embroider things for comedic effect but if I tell you I am crying, and I'm not far off it now, then I am really crying. When I talk about Hester I hope I convey the joy I feel at meeting up with her after so many years. Circumstances were different when we first new each other but things have changed now. Although we live many miles apart we are closer than ever.
As well as passing my centenary of posts I am coming up to another milestone. Next Thursday this blog will be exactly 6 months old. Another cause for celebration. Unfortunately it will be completely overshadowed by another event. It is the day of my mothers funeral.
I am not going to write a big long eulogy. I am simply reporting the fact. She suffered a lot latterly and it means that I will have to balance my relief that her suffering is over with the fact that she is gone forever.
I hope you can now understand my mood. Until Thursday it will be mainly nostalgic but I think it will change after that.
I am glad I have finally got this post written. It has been the hardest one to compose, but this is such a significant time for me that I really wanted to share it with you, warts and all. I should be doing stuff in preparation for Hester's arrival but this felt like the right moment to write it all down.
Thank you

He Done It

Someone said to me recently, "what have the McCanns ever done for us", to which I replied, apart from the roads, sanitation, public order, fresh water and clean streets they have given us 213 days of sheer entertainment ( watch "Life of Brian" if you don't get that one.)

And now, enter the ring, Robert Murat. It seems this case has been plagued by witnesses who have been afflicted by varying degrees of amnesia, and who pop up out of the woodwork at intervals to recount their stories. I have been suffering from the same problem until recently but can now acquaint you with a few facts.

This Murat man is a serial villain. I first encountered him in Sarejevo in 1914 (I was quite young at the time). As Archduke Franz Ferdinand's procession passed me I clearly saw Mr Murat fire a gun an instant before the Austro-Hungarian dropped down dead.

My next encounter with him was in 1963. I saw him shoot a gun and run off, whilst my "creme de la creme" and I were doing a guided tour of a book depository in Dallas.

My last experience of Robert Murat was ten years ago. I was driving through a Paris underpass when I saw him cause a black Mercedes to have a very serious accident. Although I chased the little white car he was driving he gave me the slip.

What are Portuguese plod waiting for? Get this man banged up. I hear from my sources he is now plotting to assassinate George Bush.

On second thoughts. Maybe we shouldn't rush into this!

Hallelujah!

As you can see my ability to upload pictures has been restored. I did a bit tinkering and it just happened. I guess I'm a lucky old gal because I have absolutely no idea how I fixed the problem.

The enclosed pic is of yours truly and should have been in my "Douglas Bader Syndrome+Sherry" post. I am showing off more of me than I normally do in public but I have put aside my modesty in order to share this with you. The photographer does get to see considerably more of me and there are no prizes for guessing who she is!

Isn't it a beauty. It is the biggest and most colourful one I have ever had, and it didn't even hurt very much. I am grateful to a certain lady for capturing the moment because this bruise has completely gone now.
In conclusion, I have to add a health warning. Partly because I care for all you dears out there, but mainly because I am allergic to being sued. So don't try this one at home kids. Steer clear of doorposts. And you shouldn't be drinking sherry at your age. Stick to the alcopops!

Virgin on the Ridiculous

Hester came to visit me this weekend. These liaisons of ours are becoming rather habit forming, but it was good to see her. She brought her puppies with her. They were a bit excitable, and rather a handful, but I love the little dears. We went to the seaside as Hester lives inland and doesn't see the ocean very often. The puppies didn't like the cold much, and wanted to remain in the warmth of the car.
Afterwards we went back to my place and watched a rather suspect video. Very naughty of us! It seemed quite old and therefore the picture was fairly grainy, but we managed to get the gist of the action. The sound, especially the music, was particularly iffy, but it was obvious what was going on and it brought back memories of halcyon days, for both Hester and myself.
Thanks to all the rail travel Hester and I have been doing in order to meet recently, that nice Mr Branson will be kept in woolly jumpers for a long time to come I suspect!

Weekend Break.

Having a break with Hester this weekend.

We went to the zoo today. Hester and I had a good time. Hope you like the pics.

Douglas Bader Syndrome + Sherry =

I have a technical problem which means I cannot post the picture of my bruise. This relates to the title. I keep forgetting that I cannot turn quickly with my condition. I simply fall over and hurt myself. It was a beauty. Very large, and very colourful. I picked a fight with a doorpost and the score was Marteen 0 Doorpost 1. Also painful, but I grinned and bore it. Like a woman does. Will share it with you when things settle down. I have not done a proper rant for ages, but the fact the "McCann Circus" is back in town, yet again, is all I need. So the police have found a bag containing clothes. And some of them are covered in DNA that is NOT Maddy's. Gosh, what a breakthrough. This means that the suspect list is narrowed down to only all the 6 billion people on this planet, minus Maddy. I now expect an early conclusion to this affair. I would think it will all be over by Christmas. Or am I confusing it with World War One?

New Job

This pic is of me in my new working clothes. I have got a job as an extra on the "Simpsons". OK, I'm kidding. It is really of me though! I sent an image to www.simpsonizeme.com and this is what they came up with. Give it a try if you love the programme, like I do. I tried to get Hester to do it, but she is just too shy. Bless her. She can be very relaxed in private, but goes all reserved on me when she is in the public eye. She has too much modesty for her own good. Unlike an old tart like me.

Told Ya!

Unfortunately "Famous Author Land" proved to be a total washout today. Not a sniff of my "Holy Trinity" of writers. But I did have an interesting experience at a local school. As I drew up to the front door to do my delivery I noticed that some of the senior girls were playing hockey on a nearby pitch. I stopped to watch for a while, quite a while actually, and it brought back fond memories, mmmmm! It also reminded me of the restraining order obtained by my old school, not quite such a pleasant memory, but I am sure it expires in less than twenty years!

As usual I have digressed. The main point of my writing was to draw your attention to the above picture. This is called a "Delivery Card". You can see it says Royal Mail in the top left corner. We use these to get signatures for Recorded Delivery and Special Delivery (Registered Post to the rest of the world) items. If you cast your eyes at the signature at the bottom right of the pic you can see that it clearly says J K Rowling! It has taken me a few weeks but I have finally delivered. I would like to thank Hester for her lenswork at this point. We have debated this point and I concede that it was her that pulled the trigger. I always like to give credit for pics, where it is due. What would I do without her.

I hope this proves to all the "doubting thomases" out there that Marteen (the artist formerly known as Martyne) is a lady of her word. I represent wholesomeness and truth. Where would the world be if people started saying that Mr Osama Bin Smith, lovely man that he is, was merely a figment of my imagination? That would clearly be preposterous, wouldn't it?

Guided Tour

I am glad to say that Hester came to stay with me at the weekend. It was so nice to see her. I gave her a tour of my rural duty. I have talked about Damhead, and I will do so soon again, but my delivery actually starts in Swanston Village, which is featured above. Thatched cottages are rare in Scotland, and seeing one being rethatched is even rarer. One of Scotland's famous authors lived here for a while. It was either Robert Louis Stevenson or Sir Walter Scott. Certainly a guy of such caliber.

I then took Hester out to Damhead.

The first image is of the goats who share a smallholding with the llamas. The afore mentioned animals were in a camera-shy mood for some reason. Ho- Hum.

Thanks to Hester and her camera I got some good shots. Sadly Mr Bin Smith was not available. A neighbour told me he is away in the Middle East with his lodgers at the moment. I presume has has gone for the hot weather. My granny used to say "the nights are fair drawing in" at this time of year. I have absolutely no idea what she was talking about

Train of Thought

Hello my dears. Sorry your Auntie Marteen has not been around for you recently. I have been preoccupied with some rather weighty matters, and I also went away for the weekend. I am in dairy mood today, sorry I meant to say diary, I just seem to have milk chocolate on the brain for some reason. But I must make another comment about the "McCann Circus" first. It's easy money, and that Photofit was such a gift. I have seen fellow commentators on their knees, praising their God for such a bounty of riches.
I have a vision of a piece on Crimewatch covering this new development. "Have you seen this well drawn pair of shoes loitering with intent near the McCann's hotel room" or "Do you recognise this very absent face which could have been in the vicinity of the crime scene?
I visited my old colleague Hester at the weekend. A most enjoyable excursion. Many years ago we were both involved in teaching. She still is. Unfortunately the "incident" involving some of the senior girls at my school means I am not. Not only did the School Board sack me, they obtained a restraining order preventing me from going within 50 yards of any of the pupils. I only wanted to give the girls a more "rounded" education. At least, that's what I told the Judge!
Hester now lives in darkest England, but it is only a few hours away by train.
We enjoyed some long conversations, went out for a few light refreshments and she introduced me to her puppies. Very interesting.
I haven't seen her for over a decade so it was great getting back together again. In fact we got on so well she is planning to come up and see me soon. I aim to take her to my beloved Damhead for an afternoon. We could visit the llamas and then possibly drop in on Mr Osama Bin Smith. He is such a charming man and I am sure he would delight in serving us afternoon tea. He has had so many of these AK-47 things delivered now that him and his friends must have at least two each. I wonder what they are going to do with them all? It is a mystery.
This weekend has been fun. I think Hester and I could be spending a lot of time together in future. If you know what I mean. Ooooh!

1 Pin Bowling

Got up this morning. And promptly fell over! Clearly last night's sherry ration has worn off by now so there must be another reason. There is. And I have touched on this problem before. I suffer from "Douglas Bader Syndrome". This rare condition causes my legs to turn into a mixture of wood and jelly. Not as tasty as it sounds. They do this and then revert to something more supportive, at will. As a consequence of the recent excitement in my life (which aggravates the condition) I am covered in cuts, bruises and sore bits. On the upside I can now fly a Spitfire despite never having had any training. Next time I will cover "Adolph Hitleritis". Sufferers have an uncontrollable urge to eat bratwurst and take over the world. Damn you World War Two types and your strange afflictions......

So, I can write longer posts if I get up off my arse

Drew a total blank in "Famous Author Land" today. They haven't even started constructing any rides yet. That's builders for you.
I am still going to drop a name, or two, or three, though. Robert is a keen rugby fan. He even bought a South African strip before their match with England last weekend, although he normally supports Scotland. When I told him I had visited the "Hastings Household" he got very excited. I personally prefer Formula One. All these fit, fast young men in overalls. What's not to like! Not sure what that thing they do with cars is all about though.
Getting back to Robert, the "Hastings Household" produced two of Scotlands most famous rugby Internationalists, Gavin and Scott. My brother would also like to point out he went to school with another famous Scottish rugby player, Andy Irvine. He is a bit nerdy that way. I wish he would set up his own blog so I don't have to keep doing his bidding. I do love him really, but don't tell him that, because it would spoil the fun I have winding him up (although we are hoping to have him converted to that new fangled "electricty" stuff soon).
I am a total wreck at the moment but I wanted to communicate with my public because they need me. Shades of Norma Desmond, or what? On top of the unexpected positive "emotional" experiences I have been having recently I am deeply worried about my mothers health. I like to do "light and frothy" with you guys but I have my dark moments, just like any other feeling person. If you like drama, as I do, you know it involves light and shade. That is very much how my life is running at the moment. I find writing very cathartic at times and I guess the tears currently rolling down my cheeks confirm that.

It has been brought to my attention recently that there are people who think my assertions about meeting famous authors are not entirely accurate. I am very hurt. My dressmaking involves me varying between "slight embroidery" and "total fabrication" but my blogging is 100% wholemeal, no added salt, truth.

I will publish my autoghraph from JK Rowling very soon. Then my detracters will be sorry!

She's Luverly

So, Dumbledore is gay. Can't wait for Hermione to "come out"! You know where to find me dear.

Ice Me Up Baby

So, Paris Hilton wants to be frozen when she dies. Why wait that long!

Politics, Schmolitics.

Have been tied up with matters of an emotional nature lately. I think things have sorted themselves out now, and everything is cool. I hope so. She's worth it. So I am ready to do an old fashioned Marteen (I hope you like the revised header. I just can't resist the temptation to play with words) style rant. I know it's what you love me best for. I haven't done one for a while. I must be getting soft in my old age. And therein lies a subject.

I was driving down the leafy lanes of Damhead today, enjoying the dying embers of the summer weather, and trying in vain to root out some vice and depravity for your delectation, when I suddenly recalled the political bombshell of a couple of day ago. More on that soon.

I don't normally do politics because in Britain it has become so bland and homogenised, as has our society. But that is a post for another day. US politics are much more fun. They have the Republicans and the Democrats who represent widely different viewpoints. One lot are a bunch of gun toting Holy Willies, and the other lot hug trees and love gays. You can see a slightly different emphasis there though, can't you ? Our lot just "fade to grey". A song by Visage in the 80's if I remember rightly. Where American politics start to scare me is when they appoint a leader who is variously described as "a glorified houseplant" and "chowderhead" by two Bloggers I respect (Where are you Max. You never call. You never write). Not only that, he seems to have power over Assembly to do what ever he wants.
If you have dropped into my blog to share knitting patterns with me at this time, you have probably picked the wrong day! There will be others.

A long time ago now I remember I was going to talk about the sad demise of Sir Menzies ( pronounced Mingiss in Scotland) Campbell from the leadership of the Lib-Dem party. He had problems from the start. This is not due to his competence, he is a very experienced statesman, it is sadly because he is not young and "sexy" enough for our very pervasive, and invasive, media. There are journalists I admire for their wit and ability. I know one now. I knew one up until five years ago when he was tragically killed in a car crash. But the paparazzi can be scum. Making money off the back of people's misfortune. It's outside my moral code.
I have got myself in a bit of a lather. I don't normally do politics, it has been a pleasant, but enjoyable departure. You know I do social comment. It is an important subject to me.
I have taken up a new hobby to help me unwind from this intense blogging thing. Jigsaws. I just got a new one today. I am going to go away and start it. It has 1000 pieces and is entitled "Empty Sky". I may be away some time.

Monkey Business (Revised)

I was recently reading the blog of LK, a thing I am wont to do, and was interested to note that she says some people do not write their own blogs. It got me to thinking about the whole spectre of ghostwriting. "Spectre of ghostwriting", I sometimes almost impress myself with my wit, because I have a habit of understatement. You lot must be gobsmacked by it. Anyway,it seems us bloggers are not always what we purport to be. There is so much trickery in the world and it would appear it has permeated the blogosphere. Her post has prompted me to hold up my hand and to say I am not what I seem. I have a dark secret and my honest nature impels me to come clean with you all. I DO NOT WRITE MY OWN BLOG. Should you be in possession of a working crucifix this would be a good time to press it against the screen and pray fervently for my soul. I feel ashamed, but it is the truth. My posts are put together by a group of monkeys with typewriters. Could explain a lot, I hear people say. They (the monkeys) recently, and successfully, finished their attempt at duplicating the complete works of Shakespeare. OK, it took over 350 years and the use of a time machine and some dodgy stem cell research, but I think it was worth it. They were at a loose end when I first met them but after I had given them the remit for writing my blog they seemed very enthusiastic. Although they write the blog I still have editorial control. I have to "fine tune" some of their work, or "totally rewrite the crap they produce" as others say, but it is fun. The pleasure I see on their white hairy faces when they submit a blog post is priceless. For everything else there is that naff credit card that keeps getting advertised on the TV. Have to go now because I need to nip down to the local store for some bananas. I seem to be buying a lot of them lately!

I'm Coming Out

As the proceedings started, the room quietened to an expectant hush. A pin dropping would have been deafening. A circle of chairs had been assembled in the middle. Each one contained a nervous occupant, desperate not to break the silence. After a short while, a woman gestured to another across the room that she wanted her to stand up. This she duly did, slowly. After what seemed like an age she said, in a brittle and strained voice," My name's Martyne. I'm a Blogaholic". So that was my first night at Blogaholics Anonamous. Hope you liked the added drama I threw in at no extra cost. Next part of my life to get a makeover is my drink habit ( was that a huge sigh of relief I heard).
A couple of important things have happened to me just recently. Both of them came about through blogging, so I don't want to give it up entirely, just turn the wick down a bit and get on with other stuff. Firstly I read a post which I found very inspiring. Beautifully crafted and enjoyable. It made me realise I have got into a self-centred rut. The world does not revolve around me, which is probably a blessing for civilisation in general.
I don't currently have a partner but that has not always been the case. Although I have never "tied the knot"I have had my moments. I had given up on this side of my life until the other thing happened. Affection for another person is a gradual process with me. It creeps up on me slowly until I can consciously start to feel it gently tug at my heart strings. Gosh, that was pretty lyrical and deep by my standard!
And that is the situation I am currently in with another blogger. Don't know if it is the words she uses, the way she uses them or just the general sense of "her" that I get. The fact that she is complimentary about my writing can probably be thrown into the mix as well. Don't know what direction it is going to take either. But it is definitely there. After my recent bout of negativity and introversion it is elating to realise I can feel that way about another person.
Going to have lots to tell the guys at next weeks BA meeting!

What 'ave We Ear Then?

It seems our shores have been invaded by a new malaise. Sightings are on the increase and it is probably only a matter of time before the whole thing reaches epidemic proportion. Medics have been gearing up in anticipation of this threat for some time, and now it seems, their plans will soon be put to the test. I refer to the condition of "Bluetooth". I have sought sound medical advice and am told there are two easy ways of spotting the poor souls who are suffering from this affliction. Firstly they will exhibit an ugly swelling attached to one of their ears. Please resist your natural temptation to whip out a scalpel and slice it off for them. You may see it as a kindness, but these people can turn nasty and try to bite your ankles before you know what is happening to you! The second symptom is even more worrying. The sufferers of this condition are likely to go about their daily business and suddenly start a conversation with themselves! Please keep children away from these people. I would hate these innocents to be stricken with the same complaint.

Salad Days

I'm in a whimsical mood today. The above pic (thanks again Annette (hope the belly dancing this weekend in Bognor goes well)) is of two of the Jacobs sheep I see when I am delivering to Damhead. It has taken years, but they will now come quite close to me. A neighbour feeds them BREAD! And they love it.
The title of this piece comes from a Julian Slade musical. He went to Cambridge and was involved with the Footlights, who regularly perform at the Edinburgh Festival. I am shortly going to expound about Cambridge, but I first have to give credit to the originator of "Salad Days", a Mr W Shakespeare of Stratford Upon Avon. Good on you sir.
I have been recently musing about my time at Girton. It was one of the best periods of my life and I just want to share it with you. One of my greatest pleasures was driving about in my little Mini and exploring the shire. English country pubs are the bestest in the world. I even found one which sold "Nooky Broon" (Newcastle Brown Ale) my next favourite to sherry. Most nights I would drive to a chip shop which sold unusual fish. Not just your boring haddock and cod but sole and hake and others. Then I'd take my meal and motor down to "The Backs". This refers to the fact that some of the colleges back onto the river Cam (hence the name Cambridge). I would sit on the grassy banks eating my fish and chips (or fish supper as we call it in Scotland) and watch the fellow students punting on the river. A "punt" is a vessel similar to a gondola in Venice. It is propelled in a similar way, by use of a pole. Heady days.

Letter Bomber Et Al

In case my last post made no sense to you (no change there then) I will explain. Shilpa Shetty was " arrested" at Mumbai airport recently. It seems the Hindus are jealous of the Christians and Muslims for cornering the market in religious bigotry so they have picked on Shilpa's snog with Richard Gere (originated by him), weeks ago, in an effort to increase their share. Get a life, the lot of you.
I love Teresa (the sister of a good friend) for her disdaining ability but I am going to go much further than that. Criminal and arsepiece (you know I am upset when I resort to language like that) Miles Cooper has been found guilty on eleven counts. They relate to him sending letter bombs. Sending packages through the post that will explode when opened by the recipient is obviously bad in sane peoples books. Yesterday I was loading a package into my van and it burst open as I was handling it. Luckily it only contained a bottle of spring water. But what if had been one of Mr Cooper's bombs! I am only the messenger but I could have been "shot". Let the bastard rot in jail for a long, long time.

Shilpa Schmilpa

I am not a major fan of Ms Shetty,she's far too attractive for my liking, but give her a break guys. OK, she had a bit of a snog with Richard Gere at that charity gig. I have to say.It got people's attention to the cause. And I am jealous.
Take care my dears.

Reflections

A fellow blogger wrote some very complimentary words about me recently. I am deeply touched and have written back to thank her. This incident got me thinking about my whole blog experience. I love language, I'm creative and I like to communicate. All basics I would like to see in any Blogger. And then there is my sense of humour ( or humor, just for you LK). As you can see I can do straight, but humour is always waiting in the wings. I can't help myself. From feedback I have had, it seems my attempts even succeed occasionally. I am totally gobsmacked at the whole global camaraderie of it all. I have "met" people from lots of places I will probably never visit. Awesome. I set out with the simple hope of being noticed. To get praise is cake icing I never expected to receive. I like it, and I want more. To that end, I have started writing my acceptance speech(es) for the "Bloggies". I hope to be nominated in the category of "Best Newcomer". Probably going to have a lot of stiff competition. I live in hope though. I reckon the "Bloggy" for "Best Sherry Fueled Blogger" on the other hand, is mine for the taking. As is traditional, I will be thanking various people who have helped me along the way. There is the afore mentioned blogger who I will thank for her kindly words. I would like to thank my mum. Not for the corny "for having me" reason. It was her that got me involved with computing. It's a long and not very interesting story so I will spare you the details. And lastly I would like to thank my old pal Deacon Barry. It was him that encouraged me to start Blogging, so if you're looking for a scapegoat, he's your man! Take care my dears.

Intrigue

I was discussing Damhead with a customer today, and bemoaning its lack of exciting lawlessness. He came up with a very interesting hypothesis. His idea was that the area would be a good hideout for a terrorist cell. It might be secluded enough to evade the detection of the security forces. When I thought about his comments I did start to wonder about one of my customers. Mr Osama Bin Smith at No. 42 does seem to lead an unusual life style. He gets a lot of packages of sugar and weedkiller delivered to him and his "lodgers". I presume they are just very sweet-toothed gardening fanatics. He frequently gets boxes labelled "AK 47 Made in Russia" delivered. Not sure what they contain but his face always lights up when I deliver them. He seems a bit eccentric, but I am sure he is not into blowing up things, unlike a friend of mine. But his inflateable "pal" seems to make him very happy so who am I to criticise.

On Yer Bike

Meant to say last week that I have given bicycle riding a go for the first time in years. It has sat out on the landing for longer than I would like to admit but I thought it was time to give it another try. Although my balance problems involve my legs rather than my ears I am still jerky and apprehensive about cycling. As it happened I was able to go up and down my street without too much trouble. I was a bit wobbly ( and I swear I had not touched any sherry that day Diana) but I did it. I am pleased. I was certainly better dressed than the ladies in the picture, although the gentlemen around them don't seem to mind! Talking of ladies and things that can wobble, maybe I wasn't but I was certainly thinking about it. The gorgeous Fern Britton is on the cover of Woman this week. It appears she has been loosing weight. Don't do this girl! I have some girlfriends who are proud to be comfortably upholstered women in an age of stick insects. They look up to you. Please don't let them down. This isn't coming from me. I'm slim. I just want my friends to be happy and not beat themselves up about their bodies. (As a codicil: I always like to give photographers credit but I have no idea who took this one).

Finally Done It

It seems I have finally got my head round the uploading of pics thing. About time too. The animal in the foreground is called Polo. As you can see he is a llama. Not the sort of animal you come across frequently in the Scottish countryside. He lives on a smallholding, with three of his relatives, in Damhead. He has a habit of walking up to you and pressing his nose up against yours. Sadly he has yet to discover breath freshener! Alternatively he might shove his muzzle up into your armpit. It must be some sort of llama thing. On a different note altogether, is it just me, or are there other people with Blogspot experiencing spurious bits of German filtering onto their pages? I don't mean common stuff like zeitgeist or kindergarten, I mean real non-understandable German! And last, but certainly not least, a big thank you to my good pal Annette for providing the picture.

Fond Farewell

I am not a fan of nationalism but when a sports star who also happens to be Scottish dies I take note. Not a fan of football either but our team beat the mighty French on their home soil earlier this week so I am already swelled with as much national pride as I can muster. It would appear that Colin McRae, former world rally champion, has died in an horrific helicopter crash. It is so bad that the police can't even tell how many people were in it. My brother was involved in the rally world so I have known about this man for many years. I am not one to have heroes as such, but I admire sports stars and am very saddened at the passing of someone I have grown to admire.

Martyne Invents

I have just invented a new board game called Ludrico. It's a sort of Cluedo (Clue if you live in North America (thanks yet again Wiki)) for modern times. I have tried it out and the result was very interesting. Apparently Madeleine McCann was murdered-by her parents-in the bedroom-with the sleeping pills. Who would have thought it!

Tangled Web Etc.

My exuberance from yesterday has melted. A lot of sad things have happened since then. Obviously it was the 6th anniversary of 9/11. Probably the single most atrocious moment in the history of the human race. Others can comment more eloquently than myself, so I will move on. The "McCann circus" is still in town, and things get even weirder. I feel sorry (a bit) for those who have supported the parents. I think my beloved JK is one of them. Could be why she was less than chirpy yesterday. My advice to anyone is don't jump on a bandwagon unless you are prepared to accept that the risk of being humiliated could be greater than that of you profiting from it. This is not directed at anyone in particular. It is simply a piece of advice from someone who knows. And then there is Ellie Lawrenson. We know for certain that she is dead. A devil dog tore her to pieces. And what became of the woman in charge of them both (that bitch Jacqueline Simpson, and I don't use that word lightly)? The court let her off. WHAT!!!!! So it is OK to smoke lots of joints, get pissed on wine and let a vicious dog loose in the same room as a young girl. It seems culpability and responsibility are old fashioned words. "Sorry the little girl got ripped apart, but I was out of my head at the time." Not Simpson's words, but I could believe the drugged up boozer could say that. So that's OK. Isn't it?

A Fan

It seems I have a new fan. Chris recently left me a very nice message. It seems he/she/it has something very important to say to me and would like to have my e-mail address in order to express it. Of course dear,I am all ears.

It is MickeyMouse@Disneyland.com. I am happy to know that you will end your days in a place you will find very uncomfortably hot, you spammer.

Triple Whammy

I was in "Famous Author Land" today at work. It's hard work for the first two hours. A lot of mail to sort. There is a large mental hospital (they haven't managed to catch me yet thankfully) a big school, a university and the SAS. Not, unfortunately the guys that run around in sexy battle dress but the Scottish Ambulance Service. They still wear uniform, so it is not a total disappointment. This must be one of the longest preambles I have ever written. To get down to business, I had items to deliver to my Holy Trinity of famous authors today. Namely Alexander McCall-Smith, Ian Rankin and J K Rowling. Ian Rankin proved elusive as usual. I think he is just too interseting (if a bit lacking in the jolly stakes) and should stay in more. I met Alexander's wife when I walked down their path, so was denied the potential of meeting him. Lovely lady though, and I don't apportion any blame towards her. But the best call was JK. I had a couple of packages for her husband but, unusually, it was her that answered my buzz. And it gets better. She opened the gate and met me at her door. And best of all, she gave me her autograph. OK it was a signature for a Recorded Delivery item but how many people of her fame have signed a bit of paper for you? I have got a copy made of it. Thanks to the guys at Harry Mendelssohn for making that possible. A lovely bunch of people. When I get my head round the technology involved I will post it.

I am Famousish II

Before my head swells to the point of exploding I need to say this. I have now discovered that I have lots of entries in Google and am therefore mega famousish!

I'm Famousish

Just went and Googled "Martyne" for fun and I am knocked out. Firstly there is a whole world of Martynes. I honestly thought I was the only one with a name so spelled. Even better, there is an entry linking to me. How cool is that. I am on Google! Now all I have to do is get an entry in Wikipedia and I will die a very happy woman. Hopefully not too soon. The dying bit, that is.

Stardom Beckons

So the whole Madeleine McCann bandwagon has motored off in yet another direction. I'm back in serious mode, in case you hadn't realised. Now the parents are suspects. You couldn't write stuff this good if you tried. Who will be first to capitalise on it? Will Fox bring out a new series called "The McCanns" or will Hollywood trump them with "Madeleine, the movie"! And somewhere in the background is a poor little four year old girl. She might be alive. She might be dead. Somehow it doesn't seem to matter anymore. And that is a sad reflection on us all. Did I forget to mention I do caustic? Now you know.

Never mind the three R's. Here's the three S's.

I've already done serious today. I've also done silly. So to complete the trilogy I give you surreal. The more alert amongst you will have noted my "Buttered Toast/Cat" debate. I have to thank deacon for pointing out that it is indeed on Wiki. Search for "buttered cat paradox". But be quick, they are trying to delete it, the spoilsports. My new "posit"
(bought that word in a box named "Little Used" for 10p in a local jumble sale recently)is thus. How come Teflon (thanks NASA)the non-stick stuff, sticks to the inside of pans?
P.S. I started this post yesterday, if that makes any sense. Not that I usually do! Not even to me.

Cats Not What I Expected

I recently saw a trailer for a film called "Czech Pussy". I was looking forward to a documentary about East European felines but I was sadly mistaken. The young ladies involved certainly had very affectionate natures. They seemed to show their love for each other in a very physical way. Isn't art a great thing?

Foot and Mouth, or Foot in Mouth.

Our foot and mouth outbreak seems to be over. Thank de lawd, even though I don't believe in him. I think we need to have a serious look at Pilbright. It is a facility shared by the Government agency Institute of Animal Health and a private company Merial. The HSE cannot, or will not, say which is culpable, for whatever reasons. Draw your own conclusions. I criticised the government's handling of the last outbreak but I think they got up off their arses and sorted this one well, even if their own institute is possibly to blame!

Still Me

Decided to give the site a bit of a make-over. Hope you guys are OK with that. Could have gone for girly pink, but I am too much of a tomboy for that. All comments welcome.

My Dog is Lovely!

This post definitely fits the "PP" remit. And then some. A woman is currently in court in Merseyside following the death of her granddaughter. This poor wee mite was ripped to shreds by the woman's pit bull terrier. And I mean shreds. 72 injuries! When you add in the fact that the dog has a history of attacking people and other dogs, plus the woman had allegedly been taking drink and drugs that day, you are looking at a disaster just waiting to happen. No rocket science involved here.The woman let the dog in the house because it had been "scared by fireworks". So the dog's well being came before that of the little girl. Be very glad you never had a granny like her! The police handlers ended up shooting the animal because they, professionals, thought the dog too dangerous to deal with. So how could a boozed up and drugged person possibly control such a beast? I love animals but we harbour potential killers in our midst and we don't seem to have the sense or the will to do anything effective about it. I was menaced by a couple of Rottweilers at work recently and it was one of the most frightening moments of my life. I really thought I was a goner. To make things worse another little girl was killed by two similar dogs less than a week later! My message is simple. Get rid of these devil dogs. In an age of "safety" (a subject for another day) it is absolute lunacy to allow these creatures amongst us. How many little girls have to be slaughtered before we get our act together?

Me Normal?

Well, I'm pretty much back to normal today, or as normal as I get, which isn't very. Just thank de lawd that you're not a boozed up old bat with sexuality issues. Last weekend put a few zeros on the end of my Kleenex bill! Going to do a "Posit" today although it is a bit of a cheat, but this problem does happen when I am working. What I want to know is (and this isn't a rhetorical question) why do gulls make so much damn noise? Other birds can go about their business and only emit the odd tweet, but gulls seem to feel the need to screech the whole day long. One outside my window is doing it right now. Why do these "flying rats" feel the need to be so vocal? Another big question confounding me is of a mechanical nature. If cats always land feet downwards and toast always lands butter side downwards, what would happen if you tied a piece of toast to the back of a cat, butter side up, and dropped them? These are important questions that I need to have answers for. Even the mighty Wikipedia has failed me. I need help. But if you have ever read me before you have probably already come to that conclusion!

Am I Cracking Up?

What is wrong with me? Thought I was too old for the hormone thing. Guess I miscalculated. I have been pigging out on YouTube (and shouldn't even know what that is at my age) and my lacrimal glands (tearducts to the uninitionated) have been doing the Samba. You've gotta check out the BBC trail(er) based on "Perfect Day" by Lou Reed. Brilliant. No other word will suffice. And don't even get me started on Heather "I've got a large pair of bazookas and a sexy voice" Small.

More Tearful Stuff

Just been watching an old episode of "House". Usually he saves the day and the patients go on to act in another series. But not this time (OK she died, but I am sure she will work again). I suppose this might be why I found this one so harrowing, but I think it is mainly because I am in an emotional mood today. It cracked me up. But although I always find his one-liners so brilliant, I use the phrase in the "made me sad" sense. I love medical dramas, even if they don't contain George Clooney, although I would prefer it! No change there then.

New Diary

Lots going on with me at the moment and I had thought about a super-rant but have decided to be lenient and feed it to you in bight sized pieces. The first one goes thus. My "Damhead Diary" has died a death simply because the protection rackets and vice dens I was hoping for simply don't exist. These people are just too damn wholesome. So I have come up with a new idea. People seem to be interested in my current job so I am going to initiate "Postie's Posits". The more alert grammar fans will detect a continuation of the alliterative theme. So I go up to a door this morning with a "Special Delivery" letter. To the rest of the world this means Registered Post. I ring the bell (which I can clearly hear) and wait. Nothing. So I ring it again, and give a big long push. Still nothing, therefore I am forced to put a notice through the letterbox and return the item to the office. In order to "guarantee" that this little letter is delivered before 9am someone paid £11.25! What a waste. I could have bought a bottle of sherry for that! But being serious, the money could been used to help someone starving, or disease ridden, or it could have helped stop a child or an animal being abused. It could have helped to stop me weeping buckets at the senseless waste, like I am now.

A Post on Post

One of the perks of my job, if you can call it that, is to see lots of pretty stamps from all over the world. We have a game we play sometimes whilst sorting. You show the person next to you the front of a postcard and see if they can guess where it came from. Obviously if it has Ibiza or something like that written on it, it's is a total bust. It needs to be a plain picture. Unfortunately my supply of anti-digression pills has run out so you are going to have to bear with me. I prefer to turn the card over and look at the stamps. Some countries produce really boring ones, but others print some really attractive stuff. I can recommend Australia. If you ever make friends with an Australia, be sure to keep in touch, by post. The stamps that prompted this rant are themed on Harry Potter. OK, the known world is in the grip of Pottermania, but I wouldn't have thought any country other than the UK would bother to issue a series of stamps about him. We have done so, but we are not alone. The stamps I saw today featured very lifelike portraits of the three main characters. Harry, Ron and the gorgeous, gorgeous (put a lid on it girl) Hermione. And where do these stamps emanate from? Believe it or not, FRANCE!!! You know France. The country that has warred with England (Ms Rowling's country of origin) on and off, for countless centuries. When the two countries got bored with sparring in the Old World they upped sticks to the Americas and had a good old ding-dong during the War of Independence in the USA. My conspiracy radar has gone into meltdown. I think this new bloke they have at the helm has something to do with this. People call him Psycho for short. Or something like that! Those garlic chompin', frog's leg chewin', onion sellin' types are up to something. I am going to keep a close eye on them in future.

Setting Things Straight

Untypically for me my last post was a bit vague. I am usually a stickler for precision. I want to set things straight, but will probably ruffle a few feathers in the process. I seriously admire Camilla and think she is a great lady. She is almost definitely in Wiki but I haven't even checked. I am so happy she is with the man she loves. Good on her. This woman has had to "hide in the wings" (a theatrical term) for many a year, and she has done it with grace. She is a girl I so respect. Good on yah.

Suck on This

Never been one to duck out of a fight. I have never started one, but should it arrive at my door, I will rise to the challenge. Therefore I am going to wade into the whole Camilla debate. Yet again she has been forced into the news. It would be nice to be left alone to have a relationship with the love of your life (Charles, in her case) but the press are not going to let that happen. Diana and Elvis seem to have gained a certain cult status. Can we manage to live our simple lives without celebrating their every anniversary? Go girl, I think you made the right decision. Even though your husband and her son's say they want you to attend the memorial.

It's Like This

Boy, I am in rant mode, and you are going to get both barrels. A girlfriend recently pointed out that I do some male type stuff. OK, she has a point, I am a bit of a tomboy. But we all are, to some extent. I guess I am just more than some. Telford might not be girly but I find his style rather sexy. Engineers just do it for me. All that flexing of muscles and building things. Oooooh. We are not talking flat pack furniture but serious roads and bridges here. Does it for this girl.

Bagged Another One

Only gone and bagged me a member of the aristocracy at work today. Her full title is Baroness Smith of Gilmorehill. Check her out in Wikipedia. In climbing circles there are people called "Munro Baggers" who try and climb as many of the 284 hills in Scotland over 3000 feet high, as possible. We had a girl at work recently who had climbed them all in one go, obviously not simultaneously, and is the first female to do so. I think I want be a "Wikipedia Bagger" and meet as many of the featured people as possible. Oh how I love a name drop. The Baroness is better known as Mrs Elizabeth Smith. Her husband John Smith was leader of the Labour Party at the time of his tragic death in 1994. A very nice lady. I felt the urge to curtsy or genuflect in some way. She is also a very busy lady and I rarely catch her in. If you read me, not only do you get entertained (occasionally) but you also get eduficated. Tomorrow I am in suburbia which is pretty boring. Friday sees me doing "Famous Author Land" (sort of like Disneyland, but with less rides (well none actually)). On Saturday I have a second dose of Damhead. A favour to the management. Still trying to root out the seedy side. Maybe they are just good honest people. Damn, why didn't I think of that before!

Give it a Rest

I have decided to stick my head above the parapet. When I first started this blog I vowed to tell things as I see them, so hear goes. I am thoroughly sick of the whole Madeleine McCann thing. Of course I want to see the poor wee mite reunited with her family, but the media has wrung this story dry. And then some. Way back in the dim and distant past it was a real "news" story. The clue's in the title guys. But for weeks it's been a non event. Traces of blood are found here, there and everywhere. None of them belonging to her. She's probably had more sightings than Elvis by now! And stupid tabloid editors give these nutters exactly what they crave. Attention. Their 15 minutes of fame. Do you really think the abductors are going to parade the girl with the, currently, most recognisable face in the world, in public? And while we are fed this constant stream of pap much worse things are happening to many people, every day, all over the world. And we never hear about it. So until she is found, be that dead or alive, GIVE IT A REST!

On Top of the World

The worlds first sherry fuelled blogger is back on form. And I'm still only on my first. Yesterday was a pretty low time for me. Lots of things went wrong. The worst one being the technical problems with my beloved blog. My "Martyne" link got attached to a phantom website. It's URL was an e-mail address! That's a sure sign there has been a technical screw up somewhere. It's first few letters were the same as mine so I guess that has something to do with the problems. Today, I am skipping through of fields of daisies. Who am I kidding. I couldn't skip to save myself these days. I am in "Famous Author Land" tomorrow. Sounds like a great idea for a theme park. I should copyright that before somebody steals it. Haven't been to JK's door for a long time but I have a cunning plan. I am going to mail her a big box, so that it will have to be delivered by van, on the day I am in her area. Devious or what. It's something women do best. Take care my dears.

Damn Hypocrite

Just had a nasty shock to my system. This could well be another weepy one, but bear with me. I need to get this one off my chest (such as it is). I watched a programme last night about Thomas Telford, the Scottish engineer and architect. Not every girls first choice but I love to soak up any knowledge. I think it brings out the teacher in me. He seriously impressed me with the sheer volume of his achievement although the technical stuff went over my head. OK, not all that emotional in itself but it got me to thinking about the recent dialogue I have been having with Diana at THEMYSCIRA (check my blogroll). She is training for a 5k race and I have been giving her advice from my experience of athletics. In teacher mode again! I told her to forget about the other athletes "and do the best" she could in her training. If you were around in the Seventies you might remember there was a poem which was popular and was called "Desideata" There is a line in it which is essentially a paraphrase of what I was saying to Diana. I still keep a copy on my wall because the whole piece virtually mirrors my philosophy of life. And then I remembered the Genesis song I keep harping on about, and the line "do as I say, don't do as I do" And suddenly I realised I was that hypocrite I so despised. Not in athletics. I can't even run with my legs in their current state. But in life. I'm a perfectionist but " doing your best" has a quantitative aspect to it as well. I guess Telford reminded me of that one. So thanks Diana. I have been looking for an epiphany for a long time and I think I have found it. You have taught an old dog new tricks. Or at least reminded her of ones she has forgotten about.

Busy Day

I see the actress that played Tiffany in Eastenders was on "MIllionaire" yesterday. A namesake, except she spells her name Martine, not the posh way like I do. Been surfing the Blogospere for hours today. This old girl likes to get out and about. And a point on punctuation comes to mind. It seems to be the fashion to use a full stop before closing inverted commas. Well I like to add them in afterwards. And I'm right. So there!

Tidy Up

Been doing a bit of housework around the blog. I've tidied up the Blogroll, and expanded it. All the links work properly now. I'm quite proud of myself, given my poor ability at things technical. I have also deleted a comment. It started of in Spanish, which is a language I am not very conversant with and then went on to say something like "if you understand English". Duh! Do you think I am just taking words and stringing them into sentaces in the blind hope that they will make sense? Of course I understand English. I know I can get a bit silly at times, but that was just inane, so it went in the bin. Ooh, got in a bit of a lather there. I'm away to put my head in the fridge and cool it down. Bye dears.

Is There Anybody Out There?

Sure that title is a line from a famous song. Was it Pink Floyd? Hang on..........Just popped another anti-digression pill. My stock has sure had a hammering recently. The problem is that my thinking doesn't go in a straight line. Come to think of it, after a few sherries, neither does my walking. Sorry if you are reading this docsgirl, but it is the simple truth. I need help. But people have been telling me this all my life so there might be other things wrapped up in there as well. That's it ............... three pills at one go. It will either kill me or cure me. Don't try this one at home kids. I say this partly because of my ongoing allergy to being litigated against, but also because I care. If you are of an impressionable disposition please don't read the next sentence. Right I am going to drown another three of these babies, this has gone far enough............. done. I was really hoping you guys could help me out with my "Hole in the Road" problem. I need closure (as do the damn holes) before I can move on with my life. The hole that prompted yesterdays post has suddenly become "active" in the same way that volcanoes can be dormant for long periods of time. The scary thing is that after a month they are not filling it in but making it bigger. Have they exposed too little subsoil for the thing to have worked. Beats me. That's a phrase that reminds me of something else, but it can wait 'til another day.

Holey Smoke. Whats Goin' On?

Was going to whine on about my job today but I have another matter I want to talk about instead. This one has been bubbling on the back burner for some time, but now I demand answers, Stat. Still watching too many repeats of ER for my own good! But who can blame a girl. If I say George Clooney, then those of you who know me will understand what I am saying. Ooooh! Just a minute, I have to do something.......... Right, back again. Just took one of the new anti-digression pills my doc prescribed me. Yes, I can feel me homing in on today's topic already. What is going on with holes in the road? You can probably now see that my title is not actually an example of my poor spelling but a major piece of wit. Or not. Hang on. Got to pop another pill. The last one has worn off already....... Not sure how they do it round your way, but things go thus in this fine burgh. A load of men descend on a street and proceed to dig large and inconvenient holes all over the place in a seemingly indiscriminate manner. When I say "they" I use this plural in a loose manner. Usually there is only one person actually exhibiting any signs of activity at one time. Similar to a relay team, except that athletes never all grind to a halt at the same time for an hour or two so that they can catch up with their reading. Or "The Sun" newspaper to give it it's full title, lest it should be confused as something approaching literature. And when they have turned your road into something resembling a Swiss cheese (Just visited Wiki and it is Emmental I am refering to) they push off. This could be for days, or even weeks. Do holes in the road have to go through some maturation process? Would they be spoiled if they were filled in too quickly? There is definitely a cheese (or should that be cheesy) thread running through this one. Finally the workmen return and your road is reinstated. And then they disappear, only to besmirch someone else's hallowed highway. Never mind "Answers on a Postcard", I need you guys to post comments, Stat. Sorry, should never have taken that "Conversational Latin" class at night school last year.

For Emma Watson Fans

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCeRafyh_zI This is for you JanieBelle, and all other Emma Watson fans. How did the battle go with Kate?

I so hope I am wrong

I really hope I have just done a bit of girly over reaction and this foot and mouth thing is simply a storm in a teacup. Please let it be so.

We Gotta Get Movin'

Just reviewed my last post. Thanks for the comments guys. We so need to get it right this time. I can't approach this subject without floods of tears but there is no way I am going to back down. It's not my nature. I hate the thought of thousands of animals being slaughtered simply on a precautionary basis. But if it halts this scourge, just do it. This is not a time for sentiment. I want to share a basic principle of mine that I think is relevant to this situation. However hard it may be at the time I always work on the basis of "greater good". You can also phrase it as "lesser bad". It comes to the same thing. I haven't cried so much in years, sorry. What I am trying to say in my usually long winded and pedantic way is that sometimes you have to be "cruel" to be kind. Sorry about the platitude but I think it sums up how I feel at the moment. I have been lacking in inspiration this week but this is definitely not the way I wanted to get fired up again. But as far as I am concerned, it has to be said.

Oh No, Please Not Again

Emergency post. This is serious. No room for humour on this one. I have just caught wind of a new Foot and Mouth outbreak. I fervently hope it doesn't turn out like the last one. I was very much affected by it. I am currently crying and am finding it hard to see the screen and the keyboard, that is how much it means to me. At the time of the last outbreak I was doing the rural run every working day and so was very much caught up in it. Some owners of farms and small holdings simply banned me from their premises altogether. I didn't take it personally but it did make me feel a bit uncomfortable. Others insisted I drove over or walked over disinfected mats. The worst bit about it was that despite all these precautions I could potentially still have spread the disease, given the nature of my job. The worst case scenario would have been the llamas. Being ruminants they were at risk and even if they had been destroyed, due to no involvement of mine, I would still have been almost as devastated as their owners. Needless to say, I, along with everyone else was banned from entering the premises. They would have been almost impossible to replace. Thankfully the disease did not reach us but seeing the fear of people, some I have known for years, is something I never wish to experience again. Both for them, and myself, I hope the new political regime we have gets off it's butt and acts now. Last time they just sat back and hoped the problem would go away. And what happened? The countryside virtually shut down, tourism died a death, not to mention thousands of animals who might have been spared a similar fate, and the tax payers had to pick up a tab of in excess of £8 Billion. We have finally fully withdrawn from Northern Ireland after the longest campaign in British military history. So we have some spare troops. Unlike last time, when it was left far too late to get them involved, get these guys in there now.

Oh no

Getting Bored

I have now done three delivery days to "Famous Author Land" in a row. On the one hand I love doing this area, a lot of it is green and leafy, but the best thing about my current duty is that I am in a different area every day of the week, normally. The author count has not been good though. I saw Ian Rankin in the distance as I was handing a parcel to his partner on Tuesday, and I spoke to Alexander McCall Smith today. He was concerned about some mail he had not recieved, and who could blame him. It seems that in all this bickering the real point of the whole exercise has been lost. The customers. I apologise on behalf of Royal Mail to anyone who has been inconvenienced by this dispute. I wish it could be resolved another way. Arm wrestling maybe. But of course that is silly and impractical, much like myself. I am sorry we have felt the need to recourse to strike action but it is about the only option us "cannon fodder" have at our disposal. The fat cat bosses seem to want to run the organisation like some type of Victorian plutocracy where we poor minions simply do as we are told, or else. Would you be happy to do more work for less money? I doubt it. It has been suggested that we deliver milk and papers as we go round with our bulging bags of mail. It has also been mooted that we read meters at the same time! Next thing you know they will want us to pop up the odd chimney and give it a sweep. After all, it smacks of Victoriana, which our managers are deeply steeped in. I laughingly suggested recently (you know what a major wit I am) that we could slide broom handles up where the sun don't shine and also sweep the streets as we pass. I hope the management don't get hold of that one or we could all have a bit trouble sitting down from now on.

Movies I Love

Sitting around on my butt, playing with my compooter, because we are on strike today. I hate this stuff. I'm an old fashioned girl and I believe that certain sectors of society should be run as a service to the community. The mail and health care, amongst others, should fall in to that category, for me. It seems the powers that be have other ideas. Yesterday I was talking to a physio(therapist) who was helping my mum, and her regular carer, and we all had the same concerns. There seems to be no room in Great Britain PLC for people who care any more. It's all down to number crunching and profit. How sad. I'm crying at the thought, but what can you do? Wanted to talk about movies but I had to get that off my chest. Great afternoon ahead. There is K-9 followed by Kindergarten Cop! If you believe I am going to watch that sh*t you should probably be reading another blog. First I am going to watch "The 39 Steps". This is the 1935 version with Robert Donat and is seen by many, including myself, as the quintessential film adaption of the book. And later on we have "84 Charing Cross Road". Anything with Anthony Hopkins in it is going to be good. That is a given. This is a delicious tale of unrequited "love". So sad, but so engaging at the same time. More tears. Guess I am in an "emulsional" mood today.

Double Edged Sword

Been a bit quiet lately because my mum has been ill and I am very concerned. She has been suffering from nausea for the last few days and has taken to her bed. Not a good option. It can cause more problems than it solves. Then a couple of days ago she fell in the middle of the night going to the toilet. Fortunately she has this emergency wristband and when she presses the button on it, it will summon help for her. She was helped into her bed and fortunately a "Rapid Response" team came round today to drag her out of her bed, and get her on the move again. It's what she needs. I have had to go round frequently to let her regular carers in to her flat but she seems to be on the mend. On the up side I saw a fox this morning. It casually cantered across the road in front of me as I was driving to work. My name drop today concerns a man of the cloth. A person only one rung down the ladder from The Pope himself, I believe. I refer to Cardinal Keith O'Brien. I have to admit when I went to deliver to his house it was not him that answered the door today but I have met him a few times and he is a typical layed back Irish man. He is only the second person in Scotland, ever, to have been made a Cardinal. It's funny how the great and good usually have an endearing humility about them. And then you get the pretentious gits who buy an over priced tacky-box house in suburbia and a 4x4 and think there is something special about them. What a topsy-turvey world we live in.