Why yes, thank you Milky NZ, I am

Compromise, Neddies, Ken, Music & Stupid chavs

Location : Bedroom
Time : 1842
Listening to : Radio 4 1830 Weekday Comedy Half Hour :
Giles Wembley Hogg. Very funny.

I have been blogging – honest. It’s just it has been for medicinal purposes & not for public consumption. The story won’t see the light of day unless I end up blissfully married with his kids. See, it’s not just Bloo who can drop in controversial titbits ?

The following won’t make much sense except to one person & he’s trained never to tell secrets, but I’m going to tell the rest of you anyway. If it doesn’t make any sense just do what you do with Stan’s blog, skip the words & look at the pics. ‘Cept there aren’t any.

My New Year’s Resolution wasn’t having the desired effect, it was making me feel worse rather then better so I did the c-word. The one I hate doing. Yup – compromise. I’m not saying I can’t compromise about the little, getting-on-with-your-flatmate-type stuff, cos I can. The fact that the kitchen bin is never closed properly hardly fazes me. Much.

No, the stuff I have trouble compromising about is the ‘big stuff’, you know feelings & gurls stuff. I am aware that last sentence contains 3 ‘stuffs’, it’s not that I lack a thesaurus, it just has to be that word. A situation wasn’t panning out & so I took my bat home. I’ve now brought my bat back & said it’s better if we play with slightly different rules than no cricket at all. Clear ? Excellent.

Neddies

I’m currently nights & was planning to ride straight after work every morning at 0630. The 1st night of snow & ice put paid to that & beesies was infinitely more tempting than neddies. Beesies with electric blankie proved ultimately irresistible. In one of those welcome quirks of fate, fortune did not favour the brave because by the time I awoke at 1400 to ride the stunning scene outside my bedroom window rivalled anything from a glittery Christmas card.

The snow was whirling, thick & luscious & it carried on all afternoon.

I have now ridden 3 consecutive times in the snow & feel very Scott about it all.

The funniest ride was my returning journey from the Downs with CB yesterday. CB has very large ears & the combination of snow, mixed with hailstones bouncing off his lugs was really disconcerting for him. He tried them at every possible angle, failing dismally to protect them. In the end, he allowed them to flop at right angles from his head, resembling furry motorbike handles.

Once he was stabled, dried off, rugged up & had his tea, I pottered off to the tack room, cleaned his tack & made myself a mug of soup. I elected to sit in his stable with him so that we could eat together. He alternated between sticking his nose in my mug to see if neddies would like soup & jealously guarding his hay from me, in case I tried to steal any.

Sitting in the warm, fresh shavings, watching the snow madly swirling outside, sipping hot soup, whilst a huge, gently steaming horse munched loudly on his hay, was the visceral highlight of my week so far.

Today I took Hannah up to the Downs, & in the way that only she can be, she was terrible. At first she minced along, taking ridiculous tiny pony steps & staring at everything goggle-eyed. She was busy trying to convince me she had never seen this bizarre white stuff which persisted in falling on her. Failing to be moved by her plight I explained patiently & firmly that ‘no’ we were not turning for home & ‘yes’ I did expect her to behave as if the snow wasn’t there.

By the time we arrived on the Downs my thighs were screaming in protest from hanging on grimly as she pranced & cavorted in her best approximation of a trot. By the time we arrived at the sand track between the trees where I had cantered on previous days with Snippet (albeit very spiritedly) & CB, I had decided discretion was the better part of valour & hacked her off mightily by not allowing her to canter but recommending that we ‘steady … trot’ instead.

I don’t use the word recommend lightly with Hannah. She is so very flighty & resentful of heavy-handed instruction that she will take it upon herself to unceremoniously dump a rider who thinks they can order her to do something. Riding her is a continual balance between her demanding to be allowed to do unacceptable things & me suggesting that perhaps we might try this way instead ? I’ve just re-read that last paragraph & recognised myself. No wonder I like Hannah as much as I do.

Ken

For overseas readers, here’s a precis.

Ken Livingstone is the Mayor for London. He was chucked out of the Labour party a while ago, despite being back in now, is extremely militant & has hacked off millions of Londoners by introducing a £5 congestion charge to drive into London. I love the congestion charge because I never drive to London, it’s free for motorcycles, and the last time I took a bike up there, London looked as it should, the only vehicles on the streets being buses, taxis, vans & couriers.

I used to feel fairly apathetic towards Ken, but all that has changed in the last couple of weeks. The long & short of it is that whilst leaving a social event, he was repeatedly asked for an interview by an Evening Standard journalist. He declined to do the interview & once riled, told the journalist (who was Jewish) that he was ‘just like a concentration camp guard’

I’m not going to comment on what he said to the journalist other than to make light of the Holocaust by comparing anything that occurred then to a journalist now, was frankly foolish.

It’s what has happened since that really gets my goat. As a Capricorn you have to know I don’t choose that phrase lightly. I am incensed by this mania we have in the UK for demanding apologies. People like Ken say something controversial & all of a sudden the nameless hordes start baying for blood. It seriously pi55es me off. Where does the Daily Mail (sister paper to the Standard) get off, telling us what to think ?

Ken has refused to apologise to the journalist. He has said to do so would be hypocritical since he is not in any way contrite & I say good on you Ken. He has however, apologised to London’s Jewish community for any offence caused & there the matter should be left.

It seems to me that people in prominence get where they are & stay there by treading the middle line & apologising left, right & centre for every slight, imagined or otherwise. So I’m going to stick my neck out & say that’s why I admire people like Maggie Thatcher & Boris Johnson. They are human, they make errors, but damned if they’re going to snivel to all & sundry looking for permission to live. Sod that. They stick to their guns & say unpopular things & live & die by the consequences. Let’s all do the same why don’t we ?

Quick break to inhale & exhale from a brown paper bag.

Music – the gift that keeps on giving.

We’ve all made up tapes for ourselves haven’t we ? A selection of tracks guaranteed to make you feel good ? Isn’t it wonderful when someone does it for you & gets it so completely right ?

A perceptive person noticed I have been going through the motions lately & compiled a CD for me. I was given it with strict instructions to listen to it all the way through & it would make sense. Here’s the thing - it does.

At first the music holds your hand & says ‘Boy – your life sure is tough isn’t it ?’ It then invites you to sit down & strokes your eyebrows whilst listening to how unfair everything is. Initially all the tracks are low, percussive, hypnotic & almost ambient, requiring very little in the way of auditory effort.

Next come a salvo of tracks which empathise & provide examples of how just a little volume can help.

After that the music asks if maybe you feel strong enough to drag yourself from the sofa. ‘Come on’ it says ‘look – it’s possible’.

Once you’re up & about come a few slightly more rowdy songs, by now you’re smiling & wondering if you’ve time to go for that run.

Towards the end everything’s, anthemic, uplifting & pure kick-ass ‘show them you’re not going to take any crap’. Track 11 is Linkin Park & by now you know this CD is going to hog your player for months.

Just when you thought it had ended, there’s a ‘hidden track’ at 22, and it features lyrics which would stand alone as poetry.

Perfect.

Thank you.

Stupid chavs

Night duty funny of the week so far ? The pi55ed girl who asked her friend to drive because she was drunk. Friend (who is also under the affluence) promptly stacks the car at speed into the front wall of a pub. The owner of the car then gets in & drives the car away from the pub.

Net result = 2 arrested for drink drive. It’s too good to be made up isn’t ?

Cx