Monthly Archives: March 2006

This is worrying

I know I should be gratified by the sudden increasing number of hits I’ve had over the last few days. Although I’d be ever so slightly happier if I thought that they were due to folks’ interest in my erudite theological reflections. Sadly, I’m forced to admit that this flurry of activity is solely due to Dave and his flipping parsnips!

I’ve even had a hit from Bern, which makes me wonder if Mr Miff’s family have somehow tracked me down.

At time of blogging I’ve been up for over 13 hours. I’ve walked over 9 miles today. I think my brain is working ahead of my fingers. Or maybe my fingers are working ahead of my brain. But it’s been a pretty productive day, in a non-productive using your brain sort of way and I’m (cautiously) beginning to feel that faithwise, there’s been a subtle changing of gears. And no, it has nothing whatsoever to do with turnips. [sorry – parsnips!]

A mention by little Miff that he’s going to a gig at the local baptist church tonight raised a glimmer of interest. Surely not? Said glimmer faded somewhat when he divulged who members of the band were. Not ‘that’ type of gig. I need harbour no false hopes of my offspring seeing the light and announcing that Jesus Wants Him for a Sunbeam.

More news on the cat front in that the previous lead has come to nothing. For the moment anyway, as would- be retiree may have to pospone her retirement due to non fertility of sibling. Puzzle that one out.

And, at last… some news on the other ‘C’ front. Contrary to my fears my Royal Mail snail mail has not been disappearing into the same black hole as my e-mails. (We’ve been doing some intensive rehabilitation work on my pc this week. Well, when the whole system’s not been down due to a certain service provider’s leaves on the line maintenance work, that is). I actually managed to speak to someone on the phone yesterday, had quite an encouraging conversation, the upshot of which is that I’ll be trundling off to speak at more length about the whole thing after Eeaster. Oh, and to put your minds at rest, the thing I’m going to discuss is not the obvious churchy vocational type thingy that everyone automatically assumes you’re considering when you start rabbiting on about churchy vocational type thingies…my poor brain is giving out here, sorry!

Most interesting

I have had no less than 4 hits from ‘country unknown.’ Why the sudden rush of interest all of a sudden? Unless I’m being pursued round cyberspace by the parsnip farmers’ collective of outer Mongolia.

Oh, and might I let it be known here, publicly, that Smudgie and I get on swimmingly together, despite our serious theological differences about the significance and purpose of certain root vegetables. 😉

Back

BT having completed their ‘routine maintenance works’ with 30 minutes minus connection stretching to 24! Plus all day Sunday, as last. Methinks they must be in league with the Keep Sunday Special Campaign. Still, looking on the bright side, little Miff managed to catch up on his coursework, whilst Mr M and self finished watching Schindler’s List. I think I’m just about getting over that one, now…just.

With Easter and Uni interview time approaching, I’ve been given strict instructions by Ms Miff to intercept the postman (and the dog) each day, and transmit any info to her straightaway. As yet, no interviews, although a slightly confusing letter re course codes etc arrived this morning. The idea being, I gather, that if she either fails to secure an interview with institution Number One, or is rejected after, she’ll then have around a month (and thus time to improve her portfolio) before being contacted by Number Two, and ditto the third time. If, and tbh I don’t think this’ll happen, no go with any of them, and she ends up in clearing, she may well reconsider her pathway altogether; maybe going for English or similar. Or even reapplying next year. By which time, her brother will be starting to make moves along the same pathway. I don’t know – life seems so complicated. nowadays.

You’ll no doubt be shocked to learn that I’m celebrating midweek and the reconnection of our internet by munching my way through the giant bars of chocolate that the beloved gave me for Mothering Sunday. (little Miff’s pressie of Thorntons were scoffed within 24 hours). Well, how can I resist the temptation? When you’ve Valentines day, Mothering Sunday AND your birthday all falling within Lent, what’s a girl to do?

Posted a couple of parcels for Ms Miff earlier. In a fit of enthusiasm, and in an effort to clear some space in her room here for when she quits her flat, she put 47 of her old books on to Amazon Marketplace last weekend. Of course this coincided with the maintenance work, and so she notified me of the transactions (2 sold at once) so that I could sort it all out here. No one can say it’s not an eclectic collection. Where else would you get Buffy the Vampire Slayer books mixing with Patricia St John classics and the like? Still at least she has her own account now. Before whilst she was still using mine, I used to get the most peculiar suggestions from Amazon : ‘Hello, Mrs X – today we recommend Rowan William’s ‘Silence and Honeycakes,’ Thomas Merton’s ‘Deep Seeds of Contemplation,’ Buffy, the sequel to the sequel to the sequel, Miffy retreats to the Dark Side, Clanging Dustbins down a mineshaft, The Typography of Weird Japanese anime thingies and ‘Placebo’ Je T’aime (even more laid back classics).’

Right. Must hop off down to the station and buy some tickets for Friday. Yes, Friday. Customer service round here tends to be somewhat erratic and this may be the only chance I have to buy them. And no, Smudgie, I’m not going to arrive for the Wightmeet a week early; don’t worry!

Man’s inhumanity to man

I bet that gave you a shock, didn’t it – coming from this direction. I’m not exactly famed for my ability to debate heavyweight theological and ethical matters, after all, and this is Monday morning. Just. Well, give or take half an hour or so.

No, these mournful musings have been triggered by a couple of bits and pieces. There’s a discussion going on over at SOF on how as Christians we cope with trauma, whether personal or others, especially in a world where we have practically 24/7 media coverage. For folks in our area this has been painfully noticeable, with nationwide coverage of the trial of a particularly gruesome murder. So much so, that I, like I’d suspect not a few others found that I didn’t exactly dissociate myself from the proceedings; more that I found myself unable to wallow in it the way some people appear to do. Not that I’d call myself unfeeling; I read just a couple of news items, and that was all I could cope with. I found the almost purient eagerness of some of the press pretty repulsive in itself.

Anyway, to get to the point; our bishop was invited onto local radio yesterday to say a few words about it all. The poor man. I mean just what do you say at a time like this? But to give him credit, he managed as well as could have been expected under such circumstances. No easy platitudes here. One thing that struck me in particular was his response to the question as to whether there is such a thing, concept as satan (One of the defendants had apparently stated that another person had been in the room whilst the crimes were being comitted; the devil). I can’t recall his reply exactly, and nothing has been put up on the diocesan website, but it was, I think, words to the effect that one can talk about a ‘force of evil..’ But more importantly, when it comes down to it, WE are responsible for our own actions.

Funnily enough, this came back to mind later on whilst Mr M and I were watching ‘Schindlers List.’ After gritting my teeth through watching the unmentionably sadistic behaviour of the camp comandant, I was moved to wonder out loud ‘What do you think. Is he mad, or just bad?’ I tended to the former, Mr M to the latter. But he, too echoed the Bishop’s line of thought: We are responsible for our deeds.

Back again

This is a sad, sad sight. All three of us seated at the various machines. Yours Truly blogging on here, Mr M and little Miff playing one of their games. Ms Miffy, sensibly is out helping the BF with his house move.

And we could be in for a long, long evening, as the pub opposite has a live band on tonight which is due to start in exactly five minutes. Believe me; they are very, very loud. (We were in there earlier when they were setting up). The singing may have left a little to be desired – although that may just have been the landlord getting carried away. Not that I’m particularly bothered. After all, I’m used to Mr Miff and his musical meanderings. Plus I’ll be having a lie in tomorrow morning, (hour change notwithstanding) as I’m planning to give the new service a go for the first time.

There’s been some progress on the ‘C’ front at last on Friday when I decided that enough was enough and picked up the phone. Apparently my mail did arrive, and was replied to, but I’ll be bothered if I can find it. (Which sort of puts paid to my monster in cyberspace eating my messages theory. And my lead on the cat hunt front. Never mind). Anyway, I’ve now been given the name of someone else to contact. So another letter’s been written and duly sent on its way. Talk of the wheels of something or other grinding exceeding slow. Don’t they realise that I’m a serial procrastinator, and that by the time said wheels have finished grinding, I’ll likely have either taken fright or forgotten what it was I wanted to enquire about in the first place?!

Origami pianos, well I never?

Yes, you read it correctly the first time. Someone has linked to my blog via a googlesearch for origami pianos. I I wonder if they changed their minds after reading it and switched to elephants instead. Despite my warnings, (I did the Xmas post as a student and know all about tiddly envelopes that jam machines) Ms Miffy intends to mail her miniature pachyderms to various friends. Let’s hope that they appreciate the effort put into the making of them.

My initial reaction on finding details of a chocolate themed retreat package for women in the Church Times yesterday was to check to see if April Fool’s day had arrived early. I’ll dig the link out later. Whatever will they come up with next?

Splashed out £1.99 on a new torch today to replace the one that fell apart en route to work. We may be springing forward an hour tonight, with all the advantages that brings with lighter evenings etc, but it does mean that my dawn starts are going to be even darker for a while. Incidentally, I used a pedometer for a couple of days this week, and found out that on your average day I walk around 8 miles! Really! No expensive gym membership needed for this Miffy! And knickers to those miserable so-and-sos at school years ago and their doom mongering at my lack of aptitude at games. (Read – unhealthy dislike at the prospect of spending hours each week in sub zero temperatures on a muddy field chasing a hard, spherical object around with what looked like a fishing net on a stick). On the other hand I suppose all those icy afternoons probably taught me fortitude and sticking power; qualities that certainly stand you in good stead of a morning. Though my school being what it was, I suspect they’d have preferred their old girls to harness those qualities for rather more worthy ends. Like running the empire. Ah well. Too late now.

aaaaaaaaaarrrggghghhhhhhh!

Blank cycle blogs and their complicated twiddly bits. Why didn’t I just settle for another wiblog? The rate I’m taking to publish three entries, Mr Miff’ll have had time to do a world tour, let along a French one!

Oh and whilst we’re at it, blank operating systems, and their built in obsolescence. Twas only last week that I was boasting that old though my pc might be, and without all the bells and whistles of the others, it was perfectly adequate for my use. The wretched thing must have heard me. Go slow is not the word. Smudgie, I’d best round up contact details for the forthcoming Wightmeet pronto in case I get cast off into outer darkness. And yes, there will be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth in certain quarters, as when (or rather if – funding not having been expected for this) I ever get another machine, it’ll be a Mac. So there!!!

One hundred origami elephants sitting on a wall

One hundred origami elephants sitting on a wall.
And if one hundred origami elephants
Should accidentally fall,
There’d be a hell of a lot of squished origami elephants
Squashed on the ground….

Sorry. I’m in a Monday morning in midweek mood, what with ‘alarms and excursions’ again today (I’m starting to get paranoid about this), and a happy half hour or so spent on the phone to various tax offices. Though to be fair, it didn’t take long to sort, and I was spared too much listening to a certain piece by Verdi.

The elephants are to do with Ms Miff, home for the day whilst her car is being MOT’d and repaired. She’s sitting at the neighbouring pc busily and usefully occupied in elephant number 2* of 100 that she will be sending round her friends for Easter. Believe it or not, this also counts towards her uni interview portfolio. (Unless of course my offspring is indulging in early April foolery; wouldn’t put it past her!). The instructions are in Italian, which isn’t exactly speeding the process. Her father dropped off a large display case of varnished cakes and biscuits earlier in the week. Modern art, eh?

No news on the cat front despite the refuge having added yet more adorable furry friends to its adoption section. None suitable. And still no reply from my lead re a pedigree breed. I think I’ll need to turn my attention to other sources. Mr Miff did wonder aloud yesterday whether a kitten might be the answer. My answer was a definite NO. Having brought up a puppy, I’m not going through all that again!

And on the other matter front, the answer is still… no answer. I wonder how much longer I should wait before I chase it up?

Grumble box that I am, I’ve forgotten to mention one high spot of the morning; the arrival of a mysterious parcel from far, far away. This is part of an Easter exchange being organised by a certain person on board SOF -who shall remain nameless. 😉 And as we’re still in Lent, I shall refrain from mentioning that I gave in to temptation and opened it there and then. If I don’t tell you what was in it, it doesn’t count as ‘cheating,’ does it?

* No, I tell a lie. Number 2 didn’t work out. She’s going back to the Italian version. Is there such a thing as an Italian elephant?

Cycle trails, trials or tales even

Can be found over on Mr Miff’s Grand Tour blog, managed by Yours Truly. I must be mad. Can’t even manage links in this place and I embark on this. Too many bells and whistles, to my liking. (Witness the excess bullet points in the latest entry. Not unlike the sporadic outbreaks of pre-menopausal spots I suffer from every so often. Well, right now this minute, if you really want to know)

One thing it’s done; increased my appreciation of this site and its workings no end. Not that I didn’t appreciate them to begin with she says hastily, hoping that Dave isn’t listening in. 😉

Plus the blog will give you a little insight into the background of your bemused muser. Should be fun.