a personal blog

Tag: thinking

It’s very strange…..

…but I could swear I had made at least one more post after the one about religion. Ah memory, how you like to play around with my poor brain. I must have dreamt I had written something.

Anyway, I am here today to rant away about body image in the Pagan press. Ah yes, if there was a group of people that you would think would not be all over the thin-is-good thing, and ageism to boot, it would be Pagans. Of which I count myself in that number.

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Vote for change?

I had a look at the website this evening. They reckon that if I vote for Plaid Cymru it will help a hung parliament to be acheived. But you know what? I’m not going to do it. Call me crazy, but I don’t give a gnat’s chuff for parliament. It’s full of lying liars and it won’t be any better for a hung, drawn or quartered government. I vote for my local MP, he’s the one who matters to me; it’s his actions which will directly impact on Ceredigion. I like our LibDem MP, he’s one of the good guys, which is pretty rare these days. So I’m voting for him. The hung parliament campaign can get stuffed; they’re not going to help when I’m worried about battery hens, or my husband needs someone to go bat for him with Arriva Trains Wales when they act like numpties once again.

I’l vote Plaid when the elections for the National Assembly rolls around because the best government for Wales is Welsh. But for the big one, it’s LibDem all the way for me.

Silly Shelley

I wish Shelley would learn to go into her little house at night by herself. She’s been with us, what; a month now? And I still have to go into her run from half past 8 to 9 at night and pick her up off the fence between her run and Inara’s and put her into her house. Which is a lot easier written down. She usually starts squawking that she’s been molested, that she’s going to be Murdered!! Last night, the silly bint managed to get her wings free from my hold and was clawing me so much that when I dropped her into her house, she banged herself against it.

I wish she’d realise that it’s as traumatic for me as it is for her, to have to do this every night. I hate that she is so frightened when I pick her up. She likes to run up to me and scratch around by my feet; she’ll even peck at my foot. But if I try to touch her she goes bananas. Whereas old Inara is happy to hunker down and let me stroke her. I’ve tried doing that in front of Shelley, to try to let her see that I really don’t mean any harm to silly little feathery girls.

There are times when I wish our neighbour hadn’t been so generous. His gift has caused us so much trouble. Not only in the expense of having to buy Shelley a new house, but that it makes it difficult for us now to reorganise the two runs as we had planned to do, when they’re rebuilt. I guess the moral is, think twice, think three times before you decide to give someone something out of the blue. It was a very kind thought and I am very grateful, but to be honest, I wish he hadn’t done it. Or had given us two bantams, or asked if we’d like to buy another to keep Shelley company.

A good deed can be a burden to the gifted. *sigh*


I was sitting on the ‘bus this morning, as you do. It was a typical tuesday morning crowd. There was a young woman with her two year old son on her knee at the front, and I sat down in the seat behind her. And then was treated to a lengthy discussion by her, of the birth of her son, blood clots and all. Apparently, she delivered her son herself, despite the presence of her mother and a midwife in the room. She then went on to tell all and sundry about her son’s forthcoming operation to drain a cyst on his brain. To give her her due, she did not aim her comments at the rest of us. It was all part of a conversation she was having with a man three rows away. Why could he not move to sit beside her? I don’t know the answer to that one. But she seemed to think it necessary to conduct her discussion at length in a very loud voice, just to make sure it carried to the back seats.

Then, while I was waiting for the ‘bus back home later, two young women arrived and met up with a friend sitting at the ‘bus stop. They then proceeded to talk about their recent smear tests and one woman’s IVF treatment, again, in loud voices, just so the rest of us got the picture. It was not edifying, I can tell you.

Is it just me, or am I old-fashioned in thinking that the intimate details of one’s intimate life are best shared in a more, well, intimate environment? I’ve noticed that the young seem to feel it acceptable to conduct every detail of their lives in public and the more people who are let into the details, the better. As well as blaming the parents, I blame this texting culture. Just watch an average episode of the Jeremy Kyle show and you’ll see what I mean. In one episode, there was a young lady who talked about having got pregnant at a ‘bus stop. What’s next: maternity units at ‘bus stops? It’s no wonder that the elderly feel bewildered and frightened by it all. Personally, I’m disgusted.

musing on a sunday

P asked me, which party will I be voting for this year and why. (Why he asks me these questions when I’m in the bath I do not know!) I thought about it and said:

Definitely not the Conservatives. They’re not for the likes of ee and me and I deeply regret having voted for Mrs Thatcher first time around. They’re not interested in any group of people except people like themselves: Eton etc., Oxford, that kind of thing. They’re not vicious, just callous.

Labour? No thanks. Their problem is that they invariably come in after several terms as the shadow party, nipping at the heels of the greater mortals. And when they do suddenly get into government, they don’t know what to do with all that power. They start off with good, noble intentions; faces shining with pride in the working class. But then power corrupts them and they quickly become venal, dishonest, selfish and greedy. And they make stupid decisions that the rest of us have to pay for.

The Liberals? Well now, I suspect that they could actually do a decent job, if they were given a chance. They’re honest: the current leader has gone on record saying that they will have to backtrack on their promise to stop student loans and give grants instead, because they just cannot afford it in the current financial situtation that we’re all in. I admire them for them. Their honesty is refreshing given all the crap we’ve had to put up with from the Labour party. And if the Liberals had been in power, I doubt that we would have so blindly followed the USA into Iraq.

But, I’ll probably vote Liberal in the next election simply because I like our local MP. Mark Williams is a decent chap who actually answers his emails, unlike a lot of technology-challenged bods. Our family have all had occasion to ask his advice, or to give ours, on several topics (mine was on the plight of battery hens) and he has always sent an answer. He went to bat against Arriva Trains on behalf of P, who travels to London and back every week. Personally, I could care tuppence about the national government (and that goes for the National Assembly). Mr Williams is a good chap in my book, and he’s getting my vote!

Hwyl Fawr 2009

I’m not going to do one of those “that was the year” things. Oh who am I trying to kid, of course I am!

Thankfully, none of the cats broke any of their legs this year and we didn’t loose any of them either. Our hen Zoe died early in the year. Inara learned to cope and to look on me as her flock. But we got 6 new hens anyway, in june. Sadly, one of those died just last week. But all in all, it wasn’t an expensive year for vet’s bills and such.

L was in New Zealand and came back at the end of may. We really missed her. She took a while to find her feet again once she was back, but she successfully applied to do an MSc at Manchester Metropolitan. I finished and passed my first Open University course towards my BA in English language and literature, and started the next course. I even seem to be doing well with the essays. P started working for the Home Office. It’s not fun there and he’s hoping he’ll be able to move on before too long. But hey you know, it’s a job. So, not really a bad year for the family.

Health-wise, I seem to be handling the diabetes and high cholesterol very well: the doctor is certainly pleased with me. But I’ve now got high blood pressure as well. I’m on medication though and that seems to be working. Thank the Goddess I live in Wales and get all my medication for free. Bless the National Assembly!

And that’s it for the year really. It wasn’t terrible and it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t something that I’d cringe to look back on. I wonder what 2010 will be like. It’s the title of a novel by Arthur C Clarke for one thing. Why aren’t we living on the moon, wearing anti-gravity boots and flying around with jet packs?

Everybody Else Does

I’ve been looking round at other people’s blogs, as you do. I noticed a few things about the really popular blogs; you know the ones I mean, the ones that are so successful that the bloggers are able to live off them. To begin with, they are usually pretty plain, just black type on white. Which I am happy about, it’s easy to read. The other thing is, to make them even easier to read, they write in very short sentences.

With a sentence or two in one paragraph.

To make it easier on the reader to be able to go from one thought to another without having to draw a breath.

Because heaven knows, the people who read blogs these days have the attention span of a three-month-old and cannot possibly be expected to absorb something that will, y’know, make them actually do a little work and read.

We can’t have that now, can we?

Yes, well, I doubt I could keep it up for long, seeing as I was taught to write in paragraphs and words of more than a couple of syllables. The problem being, that we are all supposed to think of ‘net readers as being as thick as soup and twice as stupid. But that can’t really be true, can it? I mean, the bloggers, those famous ones, are reasonably intelligent people themselves. They’re certainly not stupid, though they tend to write in cliches, squeeze as many portentous terms into their writing as they can, and have some interesting ideas, albeit couched in those awful one-line sentences. Or they’ll write as if their opinion is the only one worth reading.

No, I’m not jealous. I have no wish to make my living from blogging; I’m not that serious about it. It’s just that I feel that those people are letting their readers down, while racking in the kudoes and more. That’s another thing, I hate the term “blogosphere”. I don’t why, I just do. It sounds confining and elitest and I’m one of those people who is never part of a group. I used to feel left out, but now I’m kind of proud to be me. To be a blogger who does it my way, and to heck with other people. So there!

In other news: I still have a cold. It decided, that as I had actually had a reasonably decent sleep the night before last, I didn’t deserve more than four straight hours last night. My eyes are so red that you’d think I had cried me a river. It was yet another cold and dark day, in which we watched more of “The Big Bang Theory”. I may not get the science references, but I do understand all the geek ones. Ah yes, I can remember the days of the “Crisis on Infinite Worlds”, the early days of the X-Men and I’d rather like to have a model of the time machine in my living room too. We’ve been trying to work out which of the group we are. I reckon that I’m half Penny and half Leonard. L is probably more like Sheldon that she’s willing to admit to, including being a science geek. And P is probably half Penny and half Raj.

Oh and I finished reading “Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death” by M C Beaton. It was hilarious!

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