People just won’t give me a break. Thanks a lot, Mr. Black Sheep http://englishmaninitaly.org/2013/12/09/8-things-about-a-black-sheep/ for dobbing me in. Really, thanks a whole heap, sincerely. (Sort of.)
Now I have to prepare an 8 step acceptance speech for this award ceremony. The life of a blog star is not an easy one, let me tell you.
Now, here is the standard I am striving to attain. I’m a failure before I even start. I have blog anxiety.
Oh well, for b or w (no, not black or white, for better or worse, dear reader(s), here goes:
Boring thing 1
I have discovered I am a closet introvert, after all these years thinking I was an overt extrovert. You just never know your own self, do you?
Boring thing 2
I used to be a nurse, in those good old days when the 5H enema was the golden standard of treatment for whatever ailed you. I was the Queen of the 5H, let me tell you. What is a 5H enema you ask? Well, High, Hot, H*ll of a lot, Hold it till you Hiccup. (And I might modestly add, Highly H‘effective.) Aren’t you sad you were born too late for this experience?
Boring thing 3
I have a life motto which has stood me in good stead. It is: “You need to be a little crazy to stay sane”. But, try not to tip over that fine line too often. Or at least, not when anyone is watching, especially with a video camera in their hand.
Boring thing 4 (aren’t we finished yet)
I found out what it meant when a female dog (I’m far too polite to say “bitch”) is on heat through a highly painful experience, as in hand (father’s) applied vigorously to rear end (mine). How was I to know why poor little Snooky was locked away in the barn, when all she wanted to do was get out and have some fun with all those dogs (male) who had appeared, and were eager for her company. They had such fun when I let her out. I didn’t sit down for a while.
Yawny thing 5
I had entrusted someone with the writing of my eulogy (you know who you are). I thought it was all going well, but then a draft copy was smuggled to me. Well! What a shocker. I always thought that a eulogy was supposed to be a touching tribute to the dearly departed. It turns out that, at least with this eulogy, the topic of discussion was none other than the author of the said eulogy. My only hope is that I have a really long life, in which time this so-called friend will have become senile and forget where she put the darned thing.
Oh, good grief, 3 more to go
When I was 12 years old, and pretty well recovered from number 4 above, I went with my mom, from our farm near Cote, Saskatchewan, Canada (yes, there is such a dot on the map) all the way to Halifax, NS by train, then by ship across the Atlantic Ocean to Liverpool, by train to London and then ferry across the English Channel to Ostend, Belgium. Then, mom got out the map and realised we’d been on the wrong train from Cote, so the whole darn trip was a mistake. I was no help, because some kid had broken my glasses on the ship, and I was getting used to the white cane and guide dog.
Anyhow, while we were there, mom said we might as well look up her sister and a whole bunch of other folks she knew ‘way back in 1920, so it turned out not to be a wasted trip, after all. Who knew they would speak Flemish in that part of the world? How strange is that?
And then there were 2
When I was 30 years old, my husband, 3 children and I got on (should that be “in”) a Greyhound bus, travelled from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada to Vancouver BC, ̶f̶r̶e̶e̶l̶o̶a̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶n̶ visiting delighted relatives along the way. Then we got on a ship and crossed the Pacific Ocean, and the equator, landing in a totally different hemisphere and continent. What the ???? Then, it was a train trip across nearly half this continent, to Adelaide in South Australia. People ask why we did this, and all I can do is blame my husband for poor map-reading skills, somewhat like my mother. The country has been good to us, so I should stop whining about “Hot”, “Wet”, “Dry”, “Cyclones”, “Distance”, “Spiders”, “Snakes”, “Leeches”, “Ticks”. One day, I might just do that. Or, maybe not.
Finally, the last boring thing
I have a cat! I never thought I would have a cat, but Minx took matters into her own paws. Who knew that cats groom 10 hours a day, sleep 25 hours a day and eat about 3 hours of a day? I had a lot to learn, but Minx has been quite patient with me, and is pleased with the way I’m shaping up. You’re never too old to learn new skills, it seems. Thanks, Minxie. Yes, Minx, I’ll get the fish tasting food next time, sorry about the faux pas.
I’m now supposed to nominate 8 blogsters who have ̶e̶n̶r̶i̶c̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ helped me waste many hours. Then, it’ll be their turn to agonise over 8 incredibly meaningful things about them! So, in order not to put them through this torture, I’ll just say: get over to my blog-roll, and read any of the blogs that take your fancy. They’re all so darn good! And, go visit Mr Black Sheep and leave rude comments, he likes that!