Wednesday, October 12, 2005

The afternoon of living dangerously

I am tumble drying all my washing. Even those items that say 'do not tumble dry' in large letters. Actually they're very small letters. I shall blame any shrinkage on my eyesight. This is the height of my dangerous living.

I should be more adventurous. But that involves being brave and I am not brave. Most things in life scare me. Perhaps I was born in the wrong body; somewhere out there is an incredibly brave and intelligent and witty and wise hamster that looks like Jennifer Aniston.

I like to sleep too.

I have to say it; I can deny the truth no longer. I prefer white bread to wholemeal. I know I should prefer wholemeal as it's much better for me but the crusts are so ... brown. That reminds me; I nearly gave Harvey Bran Flakes for breakfast. (Yes, I know you're regular enough already, Harvey) (as if you have to tell me that!) To follow that to its illogical conclusion, I could have ended up eating Harvey's food. (I might be welcome to it but I don't think that's quite the point, Harvs.) Which also reminds me that in thrive the other night Julian suggested that we walk around talking to someone. I was a sad lonely creature so I began talking to the original Harvey, the invisible rabbit. He made as much sense as I did. It's quite comforting to think that he's always there when I need him. Now if I walked around talking aloud to God, people would give me funny looks.

1 comment:

Liz Hinds said...

Harvey was very active on his walk thyis afternoon,weren't you, Harvs? zzzzzzzzzzz. Yes, he was. We walked further than we have done for some time. He was quite indignant when I made him turn back but we had reached a comparatively steep up and down bit and I feared he would get stuck in the middle, I would have to save him and fall on my bum in the mud in the process.

The hamster houseboat has upped anchor and set sail (or whatever houseboats do). I wonder where hamsters go on holiday. This one was obviously after a rural retreat. Not for him the bright lights and nightlife. Perhaps some hamsters like to go to Hamlyns.

Aha, you see, my daring paid off. Dry clothes and not a shrunken t-shirt in sight. I've hidden it well in the bin. Not really. Nothing suffered in spite of the dire warnings. Huh.

I miss my meanders in the wood.