It's been an eventful sort of day today. Not the sort of day that a BBC war correspondent would call eventful, but that's not me.
It started with not being able to find my cars keys (they were under my washing in the laundry basket), continued with me trying to use my home security code to get into Linden (I tried 3 times, wondering why it wasn't working), before reaching a crescendo with a little voice.
"The time now is 11:18; the time now is 11:18; the time now is ..."
My boss and I were both in the office when little voice started. We looked at each other and giggled nervously. I followed the voice to its source: it appeared to be coming from my handbag. I opened it and, sure enough, my mobile phone was telling me the time.
'You must have set the alarm,' my boss said.
'I don't know how to - and anyway, why would I set it for 11:18?'
Life is just a mystery.
A bit like the Christmas decorations.
Linden is a popular dumping ground. If anyone has something they don't want they say, 'It's too good to throw away so I'll leave it at Linden - but I won't mention it to anyone.' Sofas, hi-fi units, organs: we've had to get rid of them all in the past. Today it was the turn of the Christmas decorations.
We seem to have acquired a whole boxful of decorations. They're in good condition but we've already got more than enough baubles for our tree.
So I've taken out the few I really like and the rest are going to be discarded. And if anyone comes up to me at Christmas and says, 'Where's the box of decorations I left here for safe-keeping?' I'll reply, 'They've gone to the great grotto in the sky.'
No more Mrs Nice Girl.
10 comments:
Oh, that's much more exciting than a BBC war correspondant's day! Well done for sorting out the Xmas decs.
Apropos Xmas decorations . . .
One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip but there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule. Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mom was coming to visit; this stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out at heaven knows where. More stress.
Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hid the liquor and there was nothing to drink.
In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the coffeepot and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made of. Just then the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door. He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said, very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas Santa. Isn't it just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn't it just a lovely tree? Where would you like me to stick it?
Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the tree.
Keys under washing basket... that sounds like my kind of move...
Life is a mystery? You can say that again ...
What is Linden? Has it got anything to do with Second Life where you spend Linden dollars??
Or am I getting my eyes severely crossed as usual
eyes? wires. duh
Jingle bells? Not a little bit early for that, Liz?
Gleds, good to see you. Linden is the church I am part of and it's also where I work part-time as administrator.
Welshcakes, we somehow had acquired a bagful of santa hats too. Or maybe they belonged to santa's elves, stu.
James, I will be hearing jingle bells in my sleep after sorting them out today.
"I don't know how to - and anyway, why would I set it for 11:18?"
I totally understand this. I don't know how to set my alarm either.
By I do know how to add numbers to my phonebook in the cell.
Some of my friends ask my number and then hand me their phone and want me to add it to their directories.
It doesn't work like that, I can only do my own phone, no one else's.
jmb, do you know your phone number? I have mine written down somewhere but I have no idea what it is.
"'You must have set the alarm,' my boss said.
'I don't know how to - and anyway, why would I set it for 11:18?'
Life is just a mystery.
A bit like the Christmas decorations."
I wish you could have heard how loud I laughed when I read that!
I'm glad, Ruthie! Life is about laughter.
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