Sunday, May 07, 2006
GOAT Holiday Special
Saturday:
Everyone else went to the races.
I was 'fragile' (by two o'clock I'd only just managed to nibble on a shortbread biscuit & sip some weak black tea without repercussions). So I was left behind, in our sumptuous and luxuriously appointed holiday cottage, to contemplate my foolishness and learn from the experience.
In this chastened frame of mind what from the extensive - and almost entirely legal - DVD collection laid on in our sumptuous etc holiday cottage did I choose to pass an hour or so?
Only The Singing Ringing Tree, that's all!
Face your fear. It's the only way.
Sunday:
Swelled the Bank Holiday crowds and practised my disapproving look at people clambering around the Cove without appropriate amounts of fleece or the proper shoes.
Came back & watched the Sky+’d Leeds v Preston at double speed.
It was thebest only way.
Strolled to Hanlith. Couldn't understand why Tim was pointing excitedly and shouting "Farmers! look, Farmers!" Though when he added "I've never seen them outside a petting zoo." I cottoned on.
Abandoned the indescribably turgid "The Line of Beauty" and immediately felt incredibly relieved.
Tuesday:
Went to the Market. The Fish Van was still there. The Fruit & Veg stall was still there.
But there was no Cheese Man.
Felt a bit sad.
Showed everyone where I used to work.
Went caving.
Wednesday:
Got into a strop with the techno cooker due to it’s inability to boil eggs properly.
Walked to Arncliffe via Yew Cogar Scar. Got sunburnt.
Kicked ass at boules.
Gave the techno cooker a second chance.
Shouted at SirAlan and his lackeys.
Thursday:
(A digression – the summer I was 9 we had to go to Harrogate every other Sunday to visit my grandma in hospital. I remember two things – the Valley Gardens and being indignant that at the end of the year I got a really rubbish book from Sunday School, because my attendance was only 50%. Surely visiting your sick gran should’ve counted for something? I’m still aggrieved. I mean, I’d already earned ‘Plenty of Ponies’ and ‘Pony Club Camp’ but that year I ended up with some dumb book of prayers. With about 10 pages in it. Is that really what Jesus would've wanted?)
Anyway – I’n’t Harrogate posh?
Friday: Came home.
Everyone else went to the races.
I was 'fragile' (by two o'clock I'd only just managed to nibble on a shortbread biscuit & sip some weak black tea without repercussions). So I was left behind, in our sumptuous and luxuriously appointed holiday cottage, to contemplate my foolishness and learn from the experience.
In this chastened frame of mind what from the extensive - and almost entirely legal - DVD collection laid on in our sumptuous etc holiday cottage did I choose to pass an hour or so?
Only The Singing Ringing Tree, that's all!
Face your fear. It's the only way.
Sunday:
Swelled the Bank Holiday crowds and practised my disapproving look at people clambering around the Cove without appropriate amounts of fleece or the proper shoes.
Came back & watched the Sky+’d Leeds v Preston at double speed.
It was the
Monday:
Strolled to Hanlith. Couldn't understand why Tim was pointing excitedly and shouting "Farmers! look, Farmers!" Though when he added "I've never seen them outside a petting zoo." I cottoned on.
Abandoned the indescribably turgid "The Line of Beauty" and immediately felt incredibly relieved.
Tuesday:
Went to the Market. The Fish Van was still there. The Fruit & Veg stall was still there.
But there was no Cheese Man.
Felt a bit sad.
Showed everyone where I used to work.
Went caving.
Wednesday:
Got into a strop with the techno cooker due to it’s inability to boil eggs properly.
Walked to Arncliffe via Yew Cogar Scar. Got sunburnt.
Kicked ass at boules.
Gave the techno cooker a second chance.
Shouted at SirAlan and his lackeys.
Thursday:
(A digression – the summer I was 9 we had to go to Harrogate every other Sunday to visit my grandma in hospital. I remember two things – the Valley Gardens and being indignant that at the end of the year I got a really rubbish book from Sunday School, because my attendance was only 50%. Surely visiting your sick gran should’ve counted for something? I’m still aggrieved. I mean, I’d already earned ‘Plenty of Ponies’ and ‘Pony Club Camp’ but that year I ended up with some dumb book of prayers. With about 10 pages in it. Is that really what Jesus would've wanted?)
Anyway – I’n’t Harrogate posh?
Friday: Came home.
Labels: real life
