.
I didn’t publish anything last month because the dog ate my homework.
Or rather a computer glitch deleted all the notes I’d made in a text document on my laptop. From now on I will use a word processor that has automatic back-up.
*
Walked into the restaurant and ordered lunch before realising I’d left my phone in the car. What a day! Had nothing to do for half an hour but sit there and think. (“And if you told young people that, they wouldn’t believe you” to quote a famous English comedian.)
*
I have found the lost sheep – or at least the errant chook. A friend was over at the weekend and cut up a fallen tree in the backyard. The poultry didn’t like the noise his chainsaw made and retreated to the other side of the garden. When I fed them the next morning I only counted nine instead of ten.
For the next couple of days I counted them up (“7 8 9..” “7 8 9…”) but #10 remained stubbornly absent. Then the next day I opened the side door and she appeared in the driveway, eyeing me calmly as if to say “Where’s breakfast?”. So I now know her whereabouts. Returning her to the backyard .... well, that’s a different challenge.
Years ago, we had a rooster that sneaked in the back door and became an indoor fowl for several days before I managed to corner him in the kitchen. Presumably he survived by raiding the cat’s food dish and water bowl.
(EDIT: Mick and Helena dropped in at the weekend - he held the gate to the backyard open while she shooed the recalcitrant fowl through. Problem solved.)
*
My Kindle keeps a running total of my reading (saves me doing it) and this month I passed 110 weeks. I happened to mention this and a friend gasped “That’s over two years!” Your point being?
*
At the Tuesday night quiz, there is always a puzzle question which runs through the evening. They start off with obscure clues which get easier as the night goes on, but the quicker you solve it the more points you get. This week, after the third clue I realised the answer was Dungeons & Dragons and wrote it on the answer sheet.
The clues became easier and easier as the quiz progressed, but most of my team were still baffled. When the clues started giving the names of some of the characters in D&D, one of my team mates groaned “I don’t even recognise those as words.”
I just nodded and said “You didn’t have the advantage of growing up in the 1970s.”
*
Dispatch from Dreamland.
If I wake up at 5 am and go back to sleep, there isn’t time for me to go into a deep sleep before morning, meaning I usually remember my dreams I’ve just had. And today’s was certainly memorable.
I was working in the office of one of my favourite Hollywood actresses in the dream. Everything was pretty normal. As the junior member of staff (this is a dream, remember!) I got all the routine jobs - “Get me a coffee” “Get my agent on the phone” “Find the revised script of my next movie.”
Then one day the routine was thrown into chaos by the discovery the office cat had had kittens… and for some reason my employer wanted to see me in her office.
So I went in and she was sitting at her desk wearing a bright red dress that went well with her jet black hair. “Michael,” she began, “You’re the sort of guy who knows a lot of people. You must know some nice families who’d love to have a free kitten.”
“Ah, I don’t know about that....” I said and she got up and walked over to me.
“Somebody has to take care of it,” she said.
“It’s not in my job description” I said warily.
“You’d be helping the office run smoothly,” she said. “There’s a carton in the stationery cupboard just the right size.”
“I don’t think so,” I said but my resolve was weakening.
“Do it for me,” she said and stepped closer, pushing herself against me. “I’ll throw in an autographed photo for each family.”
“That’s not fair, Angela,” I said.
“No?” she said into my ear.
“All right, I’ll do it!” I said desperately.
“Good boy,” she said. “Now let’s get back to work.”
[The above is the work of my subconscious. Any complaints should be addressed to it directly, not to yours truly. ]
*
Report from the front:
My health continues to keep me on my toes, so to speak.
A recent visit to my exercise physician saw a slight tweaking to my exercise routine, aimed at strengthening my legs. I showed her the issue of New Scientist with the story about aging comes in three bursts - at ages 40, 60 and 80 which might explain why my father and his father both died aged 80 - but she was unmoved.
