Monthly Archives: May 2006

Hic!

Over on Mr Miff’s Tour de France blog, Mr M should by now have arrived in Rennes, jet-propelled by 2 Euro bottles of cider!

Now I did have a fair bit to write up from the last few days; most of it angst and hand-wringing. However, thanks to an afternoon spent mostly shovelling up after the cat and dog, cleaning after same, and making unsucessful attempts to prune a big purply tree thing that’s overhanging our fence and threatening to decorate a large Range Rover that will keep parking itself outside our premises, it’s clean gone out of my head.

Normal service is resumed

You’ll no doubt be glad to learn that Mr M has phoned me from Cormeilles in Normandy where in a cadre chalhereux he will shortly be disporting himself in the calme et confort of a chambre ‘de style cosy,’ all this courtesy of Fabrice et Delphine of the Auberge du President. Rather too cosy from the looks of the pic I saw on the website – although I think the room shown was several grades up from the one he is in. Just as well; I can’t imagine the patrons will appreciate him draping his lycra cycling things (with or without antibacterial lining) all over the bed canopy!

Back in the UK, Miffdog has joined the cat in the competition to see who can throw up the most often and for the longest distance. This started on Thursday morning (at 4.45 a.m.) and has continued after the intial 5 ‘incidents’ at a rate of one steaming pile per day, this morning’s being an example of projectile vomiting the like of which I’ve not seen since the Mifflets were tiny. Surprisingly enough, he seems quite well in himself and is pretty businesslike about the whole thing. Just goes off on his own and does the business. Strange.

World Cup Fever has now reached the church, with a mini quiz this morning pitting one side of the aisle against the other. I was sorely offended that the one question I knew the answer to: ‘Who won in 1998?’ wasn’t asked. Eight years after the event, I have – I think – recovered from the trauma engendered from being the only British passenger in a plane full of Frenchmen flying from London to Strasbourg. Instead of weather reports, we had regular bulletins on the state of play from our pilot, and my taxi driver home who was getting regular updates on same from his daughter was distinctly the worse for wear. Never again.

Right….!!!

Technically challenged. That’s what I am. I just gave Mr Miff’s cycleblog a swish new template. Great. Only what I failed to realise is that when you slip from the default outfit into something more comfortable , you automatically lose any changes you’ve made since first you got dressed. So, the beloved’s cycle links (all three of them) have vanished off into cyberspace, never to return. The only one I can remember is the one Dave linked to in the Cartoonblog the other day. So I’ve been trying to reinstate pedallingmythoughts.typad.co.uk

But can I? Can I wotnots! I’ve saved and republished till I’m blue in the face. Nothing doing. Sorry, Ian! Until Mr M returns you will have to remain forever cast off into outer darkness, where there is weeping and wailing and cranking of spokes, (or whatever it is you cyclists do). But I have put you into my wiblinks to make up for it.

Let’s be positive about this. Who knows? I could become a tool for The Lord, as unwitting cyclists in search of technical knowhow log onto my blog.

Or again, maybe not.

(Pleeeeassssssssssssse let it work!).

OK, try again – Technically challenged

That’s what I am. I just gave Mr Miff’s cycleblog a swish new template. Great. Only what I failed to realise is that when you slip from the default outfit into something more comfortable , you automatically lose any changes you’ve made since first you got dressed. So, the beloved’s cycle links (all three of them) have vanished off into cyberspace, never to return. The only one I can remember is the one Dave linked to in the Cartoonblog the other day. So I’ve been trying to reinstate <a href=”http://www.pedallingmythoughts.typad.co.uk/. But can I? Can I wotnots! I’ve saved and republished till I’m blue in the face. Nothing doing. Sorry, Ian! Until Mr M returns you will have to remain forever cast off into outer darkness, where there is weeping and wailing and cranking of spokes, (or whatever it is you cyclists do). But I have put you into my wiblinks to make up for it.

Technically challenged

That’s what I am. I just gave Mr Miff’s cycleblog a swish new template. Great. Only what I failed to realise is that when you slip from the default outfit into something more comfortable , you automatically lose any changes you’ve made since first you got dressed. So, the beloved’s cycle links (all three of them) have vanished off into cyberspace, never to return. The only one I can remember is the one Dave linked to in the Cartoonblog the other day. So I’ve been trying to reinstate <a href=”http://www.pedallingmythoughts.typad.co.uk/. But can I? Can I wotnots! I’ve saved and republished till I’m blue in the face. Nothing doing. Sorry, Ian! Until Mr M returns you will have to remain forever cast off into outer darkness, where there is weeping and wailing and cranking of spokes, (or whatever it is you cyclists do). But I have put you into my wiblinks to make up for it.

Let’s be positive about this. Who knows? I could become a tool for The Lord, as unwitting cyclists in search of technical knowhow log onto my blog.

Or again, maybe not.

Some cultural stuff for the holiday weekend

Brissit brawnis and broken banis
Strife, discord, and waistis wanis
Crookit in eild, syne halt withal-
Thir are the bewtis of the futebal

Written by that elusive gentleman, ‘Anon’ and pinched off my Dodo Pad.

About says it all, really. Now what on earth am I going to do whilst the World and His Wife are glued to the box watching the World Cup?

St Quentin

La Ville vous sourit

Once again, you can tell it’s Friday afternoon, can’t you? A big thanks to Dave in his Cartoon Church capacity for flagging up the other half’s cycleblog. Yes, Mr Miff has left Belgium, much to his relief. I think it was only the Chimay that got him through. (Just as well, really, I didn’t really fancy the prospect of having a Trappist monk as a husband!). The grotty weather has followed him cross border, though. According to the the weather forecasts the winds are blowing at 40 mph out there, and straight into his face.

And is he enjoying himself, you ask? Well, yes – in the banging-your-head-against-a-brick-wall sense of the word.

And what of my musings? I’ll be back later. All this HTML is making my head ache.

Note to self

You might be full of the joys of TGIF but sharing your joy with the cat by playing boisterous fishing rod games ten minutes after he’s had his breakfast is ever so slightly unwise!

And can someone tell me why it always rains when I’m due to have my hair done?