I’m still recovering from the lurgy (non-Porcine variety – I think!) and am too lazy to blog much. So for news of the newly returned Mr M, do hop over to my other blog.
The beloved has obviously been making like the gentlemen in Robert Browning’s How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix. Yesterday evening Mr M tweeted from near Middlesborough; at 9.30 a.m. today he texted from Edinburgh. I’m not sure whether to be pleased or worried!
To unrelated matters: Can one catch swine flu off one’s pc, I wonder? I’m hoping the scratchy throat is just the result of overdoing the nice Julian Grave’s chrystallised ginger.
Acdording to a text from Mr M last night, he was cycling somewhere near Lincoln. The bets are on as to where he’s reached now. I’ve visions of a lone figure with miner’s lamp attached to his helmet, winding his weary way along Hadrian’s wall, scaring the wotnots out of the odd ghostly Roman centurion or three. As I said, he is meant to be twittering his progress, so maybe I’ll get more up to date news from there. Yes, I have signed up (reluctantly). Though as my mobile phone is practically steam driven I’ll only be accessing it via my equally steam-driven desktop, which kind of defeats the object. Never mind, let Vodaphone rejoice; Greenbelt is not far off, where it’ll get its annual workout.
good news as I said earlier. I dived into a certain highstreet photographers today for the requested passport photo to emerge five minutes later with a handful of portraits of the Monster of The Swamp. Now I realise I’m not exactly photogenic, but still… So, I was forced to spend a happy half hour making a few subtle adjustments to one of the few decent pics of Your Truly instead. Granted I’m not the world’s expert on photoshop; Mr M did point out that I look a trifle green, but no matter. The way I looked before, I was a dead ringer for our son’s late pet Beardie!
Daughter ‘casually’ dropped the subject of Swine flu into the phone conversation just now. As in she might have it. Well, not yet, but having been in contact with umpteen folk who’ve caught it, who knows? For some reason, just the mention of the wretched thing and I start to feel green round the gills. It must be psychosomatic. As Mr M pointed out when I mentioned poor Rosamundi’s latest – infection via the internet has yet to happen. Mind you, the two of us have not a few things in common. We are both oblates. We both have a penchant for going away on pilgrimage. (I have two coming up in the next month or so alone). This Is Worrying…. 😉
Other news: Mr M, after much protest, and in the interests of communiciating his forthcoming participation in the LEL ride, has given in and signed up to Twitter. I despair. Whatever happened to Simplicity?
Re “Grump,”. Good news! \o/ :D. Well I never! I shall have to go out and equip myself with protective headgear in case of offerings from on high – aka Seabirds, (the non Franciscan kind). Plus copious supplies of industrial strength hairspray. My hair and sea breezes have never got on well together; the windswept look doesn’t suit a matron of my advanced years.
More good news. Mr M, newly home from his European tour, just learned that he came 200th out of 9,500 riders in the Etape Du Tour!
It’s all quiet in the Miffy household, with both menfolk away in exotic climes. Over in France, Mr M is all set to take part in tomorrow’s Etape du Tour – from Montelimar to the notorious Mt. Ventoux. (notorious indeed – he had a nasty fall there a while back). Meanwhile, Mstr M just called me from the frozen wastes of East Anglia where he’s taken up his new abode, in the hopes of getting some work before next terms begins. Most of his wordly goods remain chez Miffy for now. A flatmate is bringing up some of his luggage next week. Unfortunately, he handed her the wrong case, as a result of which he had to lug a load of heavy tech stuff across London this afternoon. So, he has a radio to listen to, but no clothes or bedding. Never mind, all is not lost. He is the proud possessor of one toilet roll – rose scented! (Mum had a frivolous moment at Marks and Spencer yesterday).
Swine flu is ‘sweeping through’ local schools and businesses, according to the local rag, which makes me wonder if I should take the whole business more seriously than I’ve done up to now. I’m fighting hard not to make silly suggestions on the’ Ship’ thread about how this might affect liturgical practices. (Rice paper for disposable service sheets, anyone?) Our diocese – like most – has some sort of an action plan to be put into force in the event of a pandemic – even if I’ve not noticed anything happening nearer to home. At a eucharist yesterday we all received in both kinds as usual. Maybe this practice will change. Have any churchgoing wibloggers noticed any changes?
The Miffy brain has been even more confused than usual today after reading in Mootblog that somebody plans to celebrate Communion from atop the Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square. From what I could see when we passed by on Monday afternoon, said plinth’s barely large enough to take a deckchair, let alone a minister and his flock. Actually there was a deckchair there at the time. Anyway, as Ms Miffy said, he could always scatter bread into the crowds below. Although pidgeons might prove a problem.
I’m turning into a Grumpy Old Woman post the New And Significant Experience I mentioned over in my other blog. Experience being an interview for a course down in the land of Brisk Sea Breezes, Seabirds (the non Francsican variety – smudgie, you might guess where ) and…much to my joy certain end of line retail outlets. (Patron Saint of the High Street, here I come!) Anyway, this was the end of last week, so of course I’m now in the midst of the usual post-interview entrail examinings and hand-wringings: Did I give the incorrect impression here, forget to mention that there, what did they reallly mean when they said such and such…and so on. And don’t get started on the old What Ifs, If onlys and attempts to constuct numerous ‘Plan Bs’ of such complexity that it’d give Enstein a migraine. Oh, and if anybody dares start on the ‘Ah yes, but maybe it isn’t where God wants you to be’ etc etc, I shall gladly put aside Franciscan humility and bop them one over the head with a blunt instrument.
To top it all – the old toothache – wonky gums have caught up with me and I’m living in a happy haze of Ibuprofen and Bonjela. Now, what was it folk used to rub on their baby’s gums? Gin?
Oh dear – it doesn’t seem five minutes since we saw her off to playgroup, (sniff!)…wearing her little red clothkits dress and her Startrite sandals (double sniff!)…excuse me a minute….(loud, nose-blowing noises).
Dunno who that strange-looking woman in the blue jacket is, though!
The pic above shows Mr M climbing every mountain.
Should you suffer from vertigo, I’d advise you not to watch the clip below, taken by a fellow competitor of Mr M’s at last Saturday’s ‘La Marmotte’ event.