As Gloria says,”I, I will survive”.

Hello my dear Peeps,


Well, in the words of that famous 20th century philosopher Oscar Hammerstein.

Oh what a beautiful morning ,
Oh what a beautiful day
I got a wonderful feeling
Everything’s going my way!

It is an amazing day today with a tropical blue sky stretching from side to side.

The sun is blazing down, and, best of all, I am still alive.
No emergency journey to the nearest hospital in the early hours.

No horribly inventive treatments in one of the wards, to keep me busy until I catch MRSA. Just a wonderful night’s sleep and then the unadulterated joy of a truly beautiful morning.

Once I arose from what I had feared might be my death bed, I went for my usual big wee, and then down to the kitchen to get the back door open and feed the birds.
I was able to put a huge amount of bread out for them this morning, thanks to the munificence of my local Spar.

I am in such a good mood that I have decided to forgive them their sins, although they did try to kill me a few times in the past.


After all, the girls who work there are very nice with me and the guy who runs it is not bad looking.

In fact, in the closed and secret world of Spar shop managers he is probably quite a Pin Up

I do have a friend who confessed during the Great Game that she would definitely give him one.

Of course she was somewhat pissed at the time, but that is usually when people give each other one anyway isn’t it?


Once I had put out the food for the suddenly jubilant and noisy birds, I came in to make my usual breakfast of two toasted Warburton’s potato pancakes and a huge pot of Earl Grey tea.

But this was not a normal morning after all, because after chewing through one hard round of pancake, I did not want to eat the other.

Fancy that, from a person who usually feels like going and toasting a third one,.

I have never done that of course,because then my tea would get cold and I only like it if it is piping hot.

It is always amusing that Big H cannot see how I can possibly swig it down like that without burning my insides and lips.

Equally, I cannot see the point of waiting for fifteen minutes before drinking your tea, the way he does.

Why bother making it fresh each time. Why not just brew one huge teapotful in the morning, and pour himself the rest of it out all through the day.

I tell him this frequently, and he gets irritated by it, but that amuses me because it makes up for him nagging me about wasting electricity.

Ah, the delicate in-fighting of a happy and successful marriage.

I must somehow work out how to use a spellchecker on this blogging, because things with multiples s’s and c’s and stuff always give me pause.

To get back to Warburton’s Potato Pancakes. I wonder if this is the beginning of the end for them.


I hope that the weather keeps up today because later this morning a friend is picking me up and we are going to go and visit a National Trust House in the nearby vicinity.

She bought me a pass on my birthday, along with a pretty leopard skin scarf and a long string of turquoise painted wooden beads.

I was very pleased. I enjoy opening presents a lot.


Another friend really tries my patience with her present receiving skills.

She tells her husband she would like a silver bracelet and waits excitedly for the big day to arrive.

She opens the proffered gift only to find a brightly shining bracelet….of an non hallmarked silver metal.

I asked her what she had said to him and she replied that she had just said “Thank you”.

“Thank you!” Is she mad or what.

I carefully explain that for  happy and satisfactory present receiving she must cover certain bases, such as explaining about hallmarks, personal style, sizes and desirable shops.

It also does not hurt to point out objects of desire in newspapers and magazines.,

This habit must be continued over the whole relationship, with regular updating in order not to receive items which are no longer desired, needed or fashionable.
It is no use trusting your average man to understand all these important details. That is why they are called men.

I myself  have had a picture of Richard E. Grant, cut out from publicity for Withnail and I, which has been with me for many years. Not because I fancy Richard E. Grant but because I lust after that lovely long fitted coat.

One day I will find one for me. It is these little dreams that help life to be rewarding and exciting.

I also want a proper American flat topped black cowboy hat and an incredibly thick ankle length leather belted greatcoat with a fitted waist.

Also a replacement pair of huge plaster statues, of a greeny and reddy coloured boy and girl, that the kids broke when they were little. They were not expensive [ the statues that is,  not the children ] but I loved them.

Also a very large German Shepherd dog that lies on a square shaped base, also made from plaster, along with some of those really tall old plaster statues of the Virgin Mary.

There is one about four feet tall in a shop we sometimes go to, but it is not for sale. I lust after it.


I did want some leopard skin boots for years and about two birthdays ago Big H bought me some. They were made by Dr. Martens.

They are lovely..Nowadays they make them in all sorts of colours and there are even some very pretty ones with flowers on.
Life is good.


Have yourselves a wonderful day. live in the moment because that might be the last one you have.

Yes to Richard E Grant.
No to the Spar manager.


2 Responses to “As Gloria says,”I, I will survive”.”

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  2. Jaksie says:

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