Monthly Archives: March 2007

Oxnopp from Askrigg

Yes, you read it here! Mr Miff has let it be known that he is in the process of adding some hills to his blog that he has actually climbed.

http://hillsclimbed.blogspot.com/2007/03/oxnop-from-askrigg.html

Now I’m worried

Just who was it who commented on my last ‘Well I never did’ entry? Do we have a bishop onboard wibbling incognito? Or is my son lurking around?

The only other candidates according to my stats are Rosamundi and whoever it was was doing a search for ‘Miffy Underwear’.

Now I really AM worried!

Well I never did

I never thought to hear our big, hairy 17 year -old son describe a bishop as ‘cool!’ This is the same ‘new’ bishop I waxed lyrical about at the beginning of 2005. Apparently he visited the school to talk about Trident – or rather ‘no Trident’ yesterday. To get a reaction like this from a teenager who when he’s not working or partying spends countless hours in front of a screen blasting various unfortunate zombies, monsters and assorted soldiery to kingdom come – he must be pretty persuasive. Or maybe the possiblity of a Bishop getting arrested struck a note of glamour in the minds of son and friends.

The Hills are alive

Or to be strictly accurate – ‘will be alive’ with the sounds of Mr M puffing his way round the U.K. Yes, after looking round for a ‘project’ following his TDF last year, he has decided that he will climb evr’y mountain, or cycle every hill. We have had a minor marital tiff over whether calling a blog ‘Hills I have climbed’ when you’ve not actually climbed them yet is quite in keeping with the ethos of bloggery. Never mind. Read all abut it. Link in my blogroll.

Meanwhile, Spring if not quite sprung, is certainly making brave attempts at making itself known round here. Sun and brilliant blue skies are the order of the day. Perfect dog walking weather. Though for some peculiar reason the song of the birds, the whirr of concrete mixers, the roar of the lawnmower domesticus ploughing its way across the lawn; all the sounds of suburbia in fact – has set me off humming… ‘Wir setzen uns mit Tranen nieder’ from Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. I can’t get it out of my head. Quite why a lugubrious baroque piece like that should put me in mind of birdies, grass rizzing or whatever it’s meant to do and the joys of Spring is quite beyond me. Never mind. I’m sure there’s some deep meaning in it somewhere.