Stone Cold Steve Austin and a tin of polish

Wednesday lunchtime this week, finding myself @ day 3 of:

((Lockdown + Holiday)+(Wet + Ice)/Staycation) = BOREDOM, hubster was about to leave for work, the conversation went like this:

Me, “Hubster, so so glad we managed to find navy blue shoe polish today.”

Hubster, “So am I – “

Me, I cut him short, words on the tip of his tongue. I knew exactly what he was about to say. It was imperative to stop him. My afternoon, indeed my life depended on silencing the man. “Please,” I said, gripping his arm, prepared to beg if need be. Knees prepped to bend. “Please, please don’t clean my boots for me, that’s the only thing I have to look forward to this afternoon.”

Flipping heck, did I ever think the day would arrive when my entire happiness would be determined by a humble task of polishing boots with a precious tin of polish! Never.

And did I ever anticipate the pleasure of using a round tin of polish against the faster, simpler liquid form. Never.

Surprisingly satisfying job completed – wonderful that took about 10 minutes of the afternoon. Rest of the day, what to do, what to do? Ah yes, watch Broken Skull Challenge with @steveaustinBSR – holy cow, this is one epic challenge. Brutal yet intense. Surprised I love this? You shouldn’t be. Stone Cold Steve Austin, a huge WINNER in my eyes. Really wish I had a fraction of the competitors strength and endurance, my current fitness level sits at a brisk 30 minute walk and some regular Yoga, not exactly impressive.

Jeepers, it’s been a while since last blogging, so many changes to WordPress, managed to add blocks, strange images, far too many categories without even realising it, and then frantic, sweat inducing 10 minutes to find ways of removing them all.

Note to self: Get a grip and blog more often

2 weeks of doing . . .

So here I am, almost 2 weeks into my holiday, in fact, this coming Monday it’s all about back to work, and what has been achieved?

Not an awful lot.

My intentions were good mind. Sew and write. Or write and sew. Either way, come today, expectations had been high. Half a novel at least, even if it’s a shitty first draft. Loads of sewing, crafty and clothes – definitely not cushions.

Tally up as of this morning:

Words written – 0

Stitches stitched – 0

Immediate response to this? Get the flipping sewing machines out and at some point hit the blog at least once before Monday

Result:

Sewing – 2 face masks – different styles. Both steam my glasses up! What the blazes? How do you get by this little snag? I also feel a little like Darth Vadar, deep breathing and muffled speech.

Writing – this blog

Evidence:

Here are my masks, made from scraps, courtesy Youtube tutorials

 

15 minutes with Upstart Crow and a large head

Really thrilled to have had tickets for a show up the West End last weekend. Weather was awful – Storm Dennis had arrived – and undaunted, yet well wrapped in rain kit, thick gloves and a rather pretty scarf, we caught a fast train and before we could say Shakespeare and all that is jolly, we were in London.

Being early we headed to Trafalgar Square and mooched around the National Gallery where inspiration was high and my purse was lightened through purchasing some paints, brushes and painting book in the lovely shop. I add at this point they are still in the bag. My other purchase was a teeny-tiny puzzle. 10cmx15cm, of Van Gogh’s Wheatfield – that’s a whole other blog along the lines of 150 pieces of hair-pulling.

Next stop was the National Portrait Gallery which just blew my mind – another blog.

Back to our show, Upstart Crow. Love the TV series with David Mitchell and Gemma Whelan, and as soon as the show was announced I pounced and purchased tickets.

If you’ve not seen the show or heard about it, it’s written by Ben Elton and is about Shakespeare and his family and friends, moving between Stratford-Upon-Avon and London. At this point of his life, Mr S is successful and writing plays, but often enough it’s the people around him providing the best lines or titles of plays etc. as they go about day to day living. Cleverly the dialogue, for show and TV series, incorporates modern-day problems, from love, to transport, to politics, to gender-equality using Olde Worlde scenarios.  Just brilliant.

So, what’s with the big head then? Well, in the theatre a very nice gentleman sat in front of me, who I swear is taller than Nelson’s column because all I could see of the play was the occasional actor as they moved beyond the heads perimeter. I am not head shaming anybody, or tall shaming anybody, it’s just what it is, and was unfortunate for me.

This little sketch might give you an idea of what I saw of the show – as well as an idea of how badly I draw and would explain why the paints and brushes are still in the bag.

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Photo – all mine, copyright exists, but why anybody would want to use this image is beyond me

 

 

15 minutes with a Pirate colleague

There’s long been a suspicion in the household of how the Hubster doesn’t really pay as much attention to me as perhaps he should do. Case in point was this past week.

“Hey, Hubster,” I said, my phone roughly three inches from his nose. “Look at this photo of where I was today.”

He’s always keen to hear about my day at work, and as that particular day had taken us to play Pirate Crazy Golf, part of a team-building/getting-to-know-you/building-relationships day with colleagues, it was sure to be a better conversation than the normal one along the lines of.

Hubster. “How was your day?”

Me. “Same old, same old. This one did this, that one did that, I got lost in the warehouse again, lunch was yet another baked potato with tuna, blah, blah, blah, I came home.”

Hubster. “Right. Coffee or tea?” – a euphemism for, well that was bloody boring, let’s move on.

So back to the phone, settled inches from his nose, displaying a superb digital image that with all likeliness will never be seen again.

“Oh,” the Hubster, says, completely genuinely, no jokes, no nothing. “He looks a bit stiff, is that one of your colleagues?”

“WHAT?” I said – phone dropped to my lap, chin on chest, eyes wider than a 10lt casserole dish. “Are you serious? How can that be a colleague?”

Take a look, let me know what you think.

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This blog has no theme other than to allow me 15 minutes to put a blog together. Thank you for visiting

15 minutes with a Nun in Newport Pagnell

nun driving

Photo borrowed from HERE

So, there I was last week. Heading home from work. Took the back route that would lead me along winding, leafy, country roads. The type that has me sucking in air as I belt around a bend only to find myself swinging the steering wheel so my tyres touch gravel, and my paintwork takes on scratches as a gigantic 4×4 – actually I think it was a mini – on that note, MINI! who are they kidding? They are beasts. Certainly a vehicle on steroids. As I was saying a 4×4, err Mini, crosses my lane.

Back to the Nun. Well before I thrashed my way through the home counties there was a need to navigate Newport Pagnell’s High Street and its several roundabouts – circles to my SA friends. I digress once more. Is there anywhere in the solar system with more roundabouts/circles than Milton Keynes and any other town/village within a 10-mile radius?  Focus, Ruth. Newport Pagnell – home of amazing Aston Martin – High Street. Right, so about halfway up the street, my lovely Google Maps announces.

“Take the first exit at the roundabout and continue straight.” Perfect.

At said roundabout/circle I pause and give way to a sparkling, clean car, driven by a Nun, who from sight I would guess be around her 134th birthday marker. Seated next to her is also an elderly lady, not quite so old – I’m guessing about 127? Or thereabouts. Said Nun with a bestie in a smart hat at her side, inches sparkling car across the roundabout, completely forgetting the need to turn the steering wheel while keeping comfortably shoed foot on the accelerator until literally the last minute when she came practically to a halt, and I swear her next move would require a 3-point-turn.

I winced, and then cheered for Nunny to keep on moving that car, and all but got out with a mind to suggesting I complete the roundabout/circle for her. Suffice to say, divine intervention, or at least a little twitch of the hands on the steering wheel, and a flick of a foot to a pedal, and she was off and away.

And there endeth my tale of a Nun in Newport Pagnell.

 

This blog has no theme and is here purely for me to type for 15 minutes on anything that catches my eye. Thank you for reading and popping by

 

 

 

15 minutes with a don’t tell the hubster and ice-cream licker

woman dropped fail failure
Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com

 

If you know my hubster, please don’t let on I’ve purchased yet ANOTHER jacket! I hasten to add he doesn’t curtail my spending, rather it’s the number of jackets I have that will raise his right eyebrow.

But you know a girl/woman just has to have a jacket for all seasons – well that’s my defence m’lud.

OK, so this one made me want to scream EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!! Apparently, a young American woman took the lid off a tub of ice-cream – in a shop – and then put it back in the freezer for some poor person to purchase. For the love of all goodness in this world, what was she thinking? Kinda would have been nice if she’d tumbled into the freezer, feet to the sky, head amongst a mound of waffles and mixed berries.

There is video evidence of her, and you can read/see all about it HERE. And again HERE

I wonder how we will all feel about tackling an ice-cream this coming weekend then? Might be a big fat, err, PASS on that one, thank you very much

 

 

 

 

 

This blog has no theme other than to allow me 15 minutes to put a blog together. Thank you for visiting

 

15 minutes of our community Facebook page

selective focus photo of brown monkey
Photo by Arindam Raha on Pexels.com

So often amazed at what the local community posts on our Facebook page.

This one is today:

Hi Good morning all wonder if anyone has had a wisdom tooth with complications removed in hospital. Really worried as I have been told it carries risks. The Tooth has been laying dormant with no trouble for many years and I have no pain now But apparently its laying flat on its side with the nerve running over the tooth. to say Im anxious is an understatement. Any light would be much appreciated thanks in advance.xx

Surely the old dentist should be advising on this one. And really, is that a local community issue? And kisses? A little over-familiar would you say?

So far I’ve not replied to ones along the lines of:

Good morning. Sorry to be a pain, but does anyone know for definite whether XXXX is serving gluten-free fish and chips this coming Monday 1st July? 
Thanks.

Really, they can’t pick up the phone and call and ask themselves?

fried meat beside sliced lemon and white mustard
Photo by Valeria Boltneva on Pexels.com

There’s also a lot of moaning about how people park in the High Street, how Sainsbury’s is not welcome and how sheep are escaping from fields. Actually, there was a post recently regarding a fox sauntering through a field of sheep and lambs – which was to be fair a little worrying.

focus photo of brown sheep under blue sky
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

There’s also a lot and I mean a lot of moaning about weekend visitors to the local country park leaving a mess. Now, yes agreed, some do leave a mighty mess. But instead of writing on the page, why not go and moan at the people in the park. Man up, speak up.

BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. WINGE, WINGE WINGE

 

This blog has no theme other than to allow me a place to write for 15 minutes. Thank you for popping by

 

Fifteen minutes – Fosbury Flop

Had such a brilliant earlier evening with the hubster.

Watching the European Athletics on the old television with him, I roped him into doing some running with me. On the spot of course. We do the warm-up with the runners, set ourselves in dummy blocks and when the gun goes, we’re off!

He really got into the swing of it. We were doing the 800m.

“Coming over,” he shouts out, moving towards me.

“Elbows,” I respond, flapping them like a chicken to remove him from my spot.

“Elbows,” he responds, equally flapping and moving me out the way.

We did alright, came in 1st and 2nd.

Next, I had a go at the high jump. Flinging myself onto the settee/couch. Performing my best Fosbury Flop, or should that be plop?! Pretty happy with my performance, and satisfied my expertise rests with the running.

Honestly, if the neighbours were strolling past our front window they’d be wondering what the blazes we are up to.

Went to find out about the Fosbury Flop. Found this little video on Youtube.