Rein de Tout

March 9, 2019

Sitting here, bored out of my mind, and wondering what to do.  This Blog is probably going no where fast.

Robin Dominic bought a new lawn mower today.  500 Euros, so not a lot.  Been there and done that, several times.  But the first time is always the best if you like machinery as much as I do.  You have to be a bit weird if you do.

And then Connor pissed on the floor.  So I shouted at him.  “This is a disgrace.  You think I am stupid?”  He ran off and hid.  So I followed him.  “What do you think that was?  You think that’s okay you little horror?”  He is still in hiding.  “Okay pissypoos, you are now in serious trouble, so watch out.”

What a hoot.  Will it work?  Who knows.  But he certainly didn’t like my tone.  So on the next occasion I will really shriek.

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Can’t Remember.

March 9, 2019

Argumentative.

March 2, 2019

Robin Dominic has been to another French English Soiree tonight.  I decided not to go, although I would have been welcomed.  I simply can’t handle small talk.  I don’t have any.  And so I nearly die of boredom.

Anyway, apparently there was a bit of an argument about the dregs of society.  Such a waste of space they are.  Ban them, or something,  Although no one seems to know quite how to do this.  These people all work hard and aren’t short of a few bob so why should they support the dregs.

They fail to see that this is what Society means.  It shouldn’t be personal.  It is just Society.  We are responsible for all, whether we like it or not..

But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  Dom went in there with both feet flying.  He hasn’t yet learned to temper his arguments, and so he offends.  I have  been there and done that many times a very long time ago.  So he came home a bit bruised, having had the kindest of intentions.

Me?  Given a good adversary, I can argue black is white, and prove it.  People like me don’t get offended.  But there aren’t too many of us around.  I hope he learned something tonight.  If he wants an argument, and there is nothing wrong with that, then he needs to be a bit more careful of whom he chooses to argue with.

It is probably a good job that I wasn’t there.  Who knows whose side I might have come down on.  He is now the smart arse his mother thought she was thirty years ago.

Live long and prosper.  And try to be kind to those who appear to least deserve it.  There but for the grace of God.

 

Demonstrations.

February 15, 2019

I am not a very demonstrative person, much as I have always hoped to be.  Maybe I was once upon a time, and got slapped down too often.  I can barely remember.  But I do remember one time when Daddy was briefly home from The War and I nearly hugged him to death.  I think I was about four years old at the time.  So the ability was there once upon a time.

Anyway, such reactions long ago deserted me.  I want to, but I simply can’t.  Probably for fear of making a fool of myself.  Much later I once kissed a female friend who I hadn’t see for a long time, and was so pleased to see, but she was embarrassed and made a silly remark about women kissing.  That just about put the tin hat on that sort of behaviour.

This inability has coloured all of my relationships with men and women.  I even find it difficult to tell someone that I like and admire them, which I so often do, but can’t say.

I never cry.  That would be a ridiculous waste of time.  And all of my children can spot the possible even happy onset of such an emotion, and tell me not to be silly.  Have I somehow deprived them of being able to be spontaneous?

My paternal grandmother was half Italian, and oh my God, she couldn’t half cry.  I can only remember her crying.  I didn’t know if she was happy or sad.  She just cried a lot.

The rest of my family were Celts to the core.  No bloody crying going on there.  What! Certainly not.  Just get on with it all.

But the sorrow of my inability always lives with me.

 

Spirituality.

February 2, 2019

Now there’s a thing, especially as I have no real idea of what it means.

Do I want a life after death?  Probably not.  I don’t suppose that I would make a better one of that than I am doing of this one.

My main problem has always been The Sin of Pride.  Such an easy one to fall into.  I am kind so therefor I am good.  This thinking doesn’t make allowances for the fact that some of us are just born that way.  And it doesn’t make people who aren’t born that way necessarily bad.  They just don’t know how  to be different.  There you go.  Sin of Pride number one in this missive.

Perhaps I was just more fortunate.  Sin of Pride number two.  It’s a minefield, believe me.

Every bloody thing is a Sin of Pride, so it’s not my fault.  Sin of Pride number three.

My thoughts on the subject have absolutely nothing to do with God.  You don’t need God to tell you.  Whoops.  Sin of Pride number four.

You are all probably wondering by now for why I bother castigate myself.  I don’t know either.  This is almost certainly not a Sin of Pride.  So there goes another one.  If you see what I mean.

Sorry about that.  Just a passing fancy.

 

Winter.

February 1, 2019

Okay God.  That’s it.  Joke over.  I have had enough of being cold and wet and depressed, and of sleeping for ten hours a night because I can’t think of anything better to do.

I have cut up six boxes of kindling from the Wisteria rubbish, when it wasn’t actually pissing down, mainly because it makes me feel useful and helps to get rid of it all.  I expect I will be pleased about this next Winter.  And let’s face it, I amn’t much good for anything else these days.  Old age ain’t much fun when your bones ache from the damp.

Connor thinks it is a huge laugh and tries to wrestle long strands of it away from me when he isn’t actually tearing it to bits himself, so I spend more time retrieving it from all corners of the garden.  Must try to teach him something about Feet and Inches.  I do talk to him you know.  I say, “Look, you little swine.  I need it this length.  And if you could put it in the box, that would be good.”  Perhaps I need to say it in French, but I shall have to Google Translate that.  And then my neighbour will be certain sure that I have gone mad.  And probably report me to The SPA for animal abuse.

Yesterday, Robin Dominic and I went to Languidic to look at Lawn Mowers.  No, I don’t need to look at Lawn Mowers.  Languidic is only about twenty miles away, but  after we had completely circumnavigated the entire County of La Morbihan, due to Robin’s idea of a short cut, we finally staggered home about three hours later.  Getting home was easier than getting there.  La Morbihan isn’t hot on sign posts.  I swear to God we went through one village at least three time.  But it’s hard to tell since they all look the same.

I gave up short cuts around here many years ago.  You always finish up in some God forsaken place you have never heard of, and didn’t want to anyway.  I mean, who would want to go to Kervagio?  Six houses, a massive great Church, a Car Park and three Bars, all closed, incidentally, which isn’t all that surprising.

So, today I am going to sweep the floor of wood chipping, again.  I ought to do some dusting but I can’t be arsed.  It will all be the same tomorrow.  Bonne Chance.

Connor Again.

January 28, 2019

Connor has been for a 5 Kilometre run with my neighbour today, around some fenced in field.  I am no longer up to 5 Kilometre.  Even 1 Kilometre is beyond me.  But he was taking his daughter’s puppy, so why not take mine.  Although Connor can do 5 Kilometres around my minuscule garden when he is chasing the cat.

And I thought to myself, “That’ll wear him out.”   No chance.  He still came back and chased the cat.  Mind you, the cat does deliberately torment him.  But the cat is most definitely In Charge, so don’t worry about her.  She knows where to balance just out of his reach, with her tail swinging.  And she runs at him if he is ignoring her.

However, I think I might have cracked the Pee Thingy.  Connor hasn’t peed in the house for over a week now, although he sticks his bottom just outside the back door if it is raining.  Very clever, I thought.

He is so beautiful, and turning into to the dog he will be one day, when his body catches up with his ears.

And such a Joyous little soul he is.  He lightens my days and makes me laugh.

Wisteria.

January 4, 2019

Don’t grow it.  It’s a weed.  It produces wonderful flowers for three measly weeks and then takes over to the extinction of all else.  But then so do a lot of other weeds.

However, as usual, I wait with bated breath for next Spring.  I can already see what it is doing, and how glorious it will be for three measly weeks.

I finally got stuck into it today, and hacked off what could be quite good kindling next Winter, so I suppose that this is a bonus.

Robin Dominic will do the ladder work, and there is a lot of that, but he has strict instructions to only cut back to two buds.

I also sorted the wobbly table, mainly with a bloody great hammer, brute force and ignorance.  I can still spot an angle.  And kept on hitting it until it lined up.  It will do for another ten years.  After that I probably won’t care.  By then I might be allowed to do what I always wanted to do.  Just lie about in bed and look fragile.

I have long admired Elizabeth Barrett Browning.  I did have tuberculosis and I did write a lot of poetry, but the lying about in bed never happened.  And nor was I ever swept away by the love of my life.  But you can’t have it all.

How do I love thee.  Let me count the ways.  I did do that once.  For which I am grateful.

Connor.

January 1, 2019

Oh My God.  Connor is a marsupial.

January the First. 2019

January 1, 2019

That I should have lived this long.  But then why not?  It’s all in The Genes, you know.  Or mayhap in The Mind.  I ain’t giving up until I have had my monies worth out of the rotten old British State Pension.  I was never going to be their best Bench Mark.  Soooo…

Had a really nice day today.  Probably my best ever New Years Day.

Wrote to a couple of people that I actually care about, but have never met.  And had a nice time with a couple of people that I have known for quite some time and didn’t really understand. Probably my fault.  But all has been good.

Connor improves very slowly, but he is getting better.  He pees in the garden now because he thinks that maybe he should, but I don’t think he has really got it yet.  I take him out several times a day.  But the rest of the time, fuck it.

No New Year Resolutions.  I don’t do that.  Whatever it is that I can’t do all of the time isn’t worth doing.

My Stats have shot up just recently.  Mainly due, I suspect, to someone passing the link to my Blog to some who thought they might find something that isn’t there.  Some of them are still reading.  And I am really pleased about that.  I don’t know exactly who they are.  But that doesn’t matter.  I only ever hope to amuse.

All of this has done wonders for my for my ageing spirit.  So thank you so much to whoever it was who passed on The Link.

Such a Happy New Year I do wish you all.