Yes, it’s a song title today. I did think of a variation on the TV show Countdown but at 58 I’m not ready to admit that I’m part of the Countdown demographic. (See later comments on age).
I bought a new knife today. I’ve been meaning to get a proper boning knife for some time and the one I spotted in the cash and carry had all the attributes I wanted – a good handle and a cheap price ranking higher than the quality of the blade. I don’t tend to wear knives out – they simply disappear (thrown away by family members, I suspect, as I never lost a knife before I was married) or get left on top of a cooker ring. Yes, I’ve destroyed a couple of good knives like that. I suppose I could build a new handle from exotic hardwood as recommended in various specialist magazine, but I’m really not that good with my hands.
From the cash and carry (having bought drinks and snacks for the party tomorrow) I went to the supermarket to buy the rest of the stuff we needed. It was stressful, as the nearest supermarket to the cash and carry isn’t one I normally go to and it was crammed with coffin dodgers all doing their best to either get in my way or ram me out of their way.
Now, I don’t mind the former (in moderation) as we all dawdle a bit, but the latter drives me mad. If I responded in kind, with a quick flick of the trolley and a spot of wheel to wheel charioteering I would (rightly) be castigated as a hooligan and a bully, but give me a cardigan and a blue rinse and I’m instantly allowed to carry on like Genghis Khan. I was actually rammed by a shopping scooter on Saturday when a woman of only middling years decided she wanted the space I was occupying.
Mentally I dragged her off the scooter and gave her a good kicking. But in real life I just moved, with a subdued “Tch!” to indicate disapproval.
I’m off to cut cabbage for the coleslaw now.
It’s nineteen hours until the party starts and twenty five hours until the project closes.
That must mean it’s also twenty five hours until my new life begins.
Seems a good time for a poem, and as Dylan Thomas conveniently died over 60 years ago I think I’m right in say he’s out of copyright so I can quote it in full.
Tomorrow, I will be blogging in a more kindly and cheerful manner.
🙂
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Coffin dodgers and renegade scooters! Rick and I try to avoid shops during holidays as well.
Red Brussels sprouts? Haven’t seen one over here yet. I look forward to meeting one on my dinner plate.
Not sure what we did but they turned green in the steamer – very disappointing!
Between coffin dodgers – good one – and clueless millennials glued to their phones, I am surprised there aren’t more incidents of boomer rage!
Yes, I’ve noticed a growing trend for people to look at their phones whilst crossing the road, thus creating our first self-culling generation.
An apt poem, in the circumstances. I wonder what you’d make of the yellow ticket blockers who stick their trolleys across the shelves so no-one else can reach them? Jackie takes pride, however, in making use of her long arms.
So many people just have no spatial awareness or manners. Nice to know Jackie is equal to the situation. 😉
As a coffin dodger may I apologise for the others of the ilk who have so made your life a misery. Perhaps they were raging against the dying of the light and you got in their way.
I hope the party goes well.
Party is looking good thanks. I can’t imagine you have time to get in anyone’s way with your crowded social schedule!
I hope the party goes well!
We have lots of food, games, dances, songs and an excellent Santa lookalike so it’s a good start. 🙂
Nothing can go wrong!
We’ve already had a phone call to say the taxi would be late because it had got stuck in the middle of Vicki’s lawn. Don’t ask…
Very hard not to wonder how that happened!
It’s what happens when you take the cheapest quote!
😕
A very bittersweet time.
It’s a new beginning. I have nine years to find a new career, and then I can retire and devote myself to irritating my kids. 🙂
Oh, good luck!
Thanks. I’m sure something good will happen – I really am a bit of a Pollyanna! 😉
A really good way to be!
I am currently trying to avoid any shops, but I think I may be forced out of the house for vegetables at some point this week… hopefully I can achieve their purchase without having to run the gauntlet of crazed pre-Christmas shoppers, but it looks unlikely.
Yes, vegetables…
I have bought red Brussels sprouts. Don’t need them, but couldn’t resist them.
I am woefully behind on Christmas shopping – don’t even have the meat yet.
I am able to resist the pleasures of red (or any other colour) Brussels sprouts, but I’m a sucker for a parsnip 😉
Yes, parsnips are hard to beat. 🙂