Bad blog pick-up line? Sorry about that. You see I'm all flushed with my short-lived summer fling over at Rita and Margriet and I'm so awfully glad to be back and you look so marvellously erudite sitting there at your computer and I just couldn't help myself.
Anyway, a very happy new year to you and yours. What have you been up to? We've been all over; well, if you consider Canberra and Sydney all over. We've eaten way too much, put some considerable work into reducing our collective familial sleep deficit, and most excitingly ordered a mini-tramp (which was delivered this morning - my God what have I done).
I even, even, cleaned up some of my paperwork which has been lying all around the house for the last ten million years.
AND I've listed 53 books for sale on eBay. As soon as I figure what to do with the other 400 surplus books currently occupying the buffet, dining table, lounge chair and living room floor Mr Kettle may stop frowning and start smiling again (but that could be some time off; sorry Mr Kettle).
Anyway, enough about me. What have you been doing? Reading? Penning ballads? Dusting your 2010 trophies? Trying out your new scientific calculators? Sitting on chairs? Buying puzzle mats? Tell me, do.
11 comments:
Well done on that whole paperwork cleaning phase you went through for a day! You're to be commended, Mme Kettle!
I've decided to clear my garage tomorrow. That's the plan. We might be having a new lodger in there this weekend. A lodger of the guinea pig variety. I swear that I'm not getting a guinea pig because I wanted one more than a Barbie campervan, more than life itself when I was 8 years old! It's a completely selfless act.
What have I been up to? I've been standing on my poor tired feet almost non stop for 3 months now. I sat down a couple of times for toilette breaks and to sleep for 5-6 minutes, but that was it.
I looked at one of those dating sites one day and tried to imagine meeting some of the men who had half decent "about me" pages. But then I quickly came to my senses again. What was I thinking? I'm as likely to join one of those sites as I am of taking up roller skating whilst knitting as an Olympic sport.
My God I love guinea pigs; tell me you're not just getting one? You'll need at least seven. And then the names! What's on your list? Peggy?
Now about your working, it's got to stop. I can't keep looking after all these Cabana boys on my own; I'm only human, you know. Only human!
Well! He already has a name-
Mr Butters. Yes, really. How could we not keep that name?!
He's a Pre-owned model, living the high life underneath someone's front porch. He's free-range. Comes and goes as he pleases, apparently. Lord knows how he's avoided becoming some snake's lunch? I hope he takes to partial captivity. He's very tame, comes when called, and thinks he's a dog. Yes, that's right. He's the perfect guinea pig!
You're a flibberty-gibbert, Kettle.
Ramon would that I were a real flibberty-jibbert life would possibly be more fun.
If I was a real flibberty-jibbert I would be:
a young girl (sadly, no), fancy free (still no), have a head full of nonsense (not since I left academia), a bit of a scatterbrain (governed by too many lists to be so, unfortunately), and a bit silly.
Granted, I'll pay the last one; sometimes I am a bit silly, but then, this blog is called 'The Dangerous Kettle' so I think you knew that one already.
You can call me a silly billy, if you like?
He's very tame, comes when called, and thinks he's a dog.
Ms CW, are you sure Mr Butters isn't battery operated? I think I may have seen just this kind of 'guinea pig' in the Big W toy section just before Christmas.
I hope he's real.
As soon as he arrives and settles into his new abode, I shall bid him don his tiny hat and take a photo or 30 for you. I'm guessing he will be too big for my daughter's Sylvanian family mansion, but there's no harm in trying, is there? I bet he'd look spiffing in the drawing room on that settee.
You're jealous, aren't you?
You can't make those fish wear embarrassing head wear.
Oh, no! I don't think you should sell your books on ebay. That is like selling dear friends
Unless they are really bad books. Like if you have 53 copies of The Time Traveller's Wife , I understand
Unless they are really bad books.
They are, Squib, they're awful. Some are even about sport; imagine, sport.
Unsurprisingly no-one in eBay-land wanted them either. I think I'm going to have to ... leave them in a box near the recycling bins and walk away. Walk away, damnit.
[Apologies for the tardiness of my reply, too. I've been panicking to get a stack of work done before disappearing to the coast.]
But what were you even doing with books about sport?
Squib that is such a good question. Would you believe they were 'donated' to me by a friend?
No, sounds pretty lame, BUT IT'S TRUE.
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