Thursday, 15 January 2015

I can almost taste that Scotch Egg


I think that a lot of us have slammed into the wall of January a lot harder than usual this year, but I suspect it is much to do with a sort of post-viral condition which makes the light at the end of the tunnel seem even further away. This is what happens when you wake up an animal which needs to sleep until April, and everyone I know has had the same, six-week cold.

An unusually large number of people seem to have died over Christmas as well - many of my friends have suffered some kind of loss, either of other friends or kin. Today at 1.00pm, Neville - he who was pictured leaning against the tombstone - is going to be waved goodbye to in Bath Abbey.

As I went to bed last night (I didn't score, Weave) the unlit Christmas decorations were swinging like hell in the 60 mph winds outside. I love that - tucked up in the warm, listening to extreme weather-events outside. The only slight feeling of unease is the half-thought about the chimney stack falling through the roof and pinning me to the mattress. It's happened before, but luckily nobody was in the bed at the time.

I like John's latest caption competition, and I am eagerly awaiting the prize... a Scotch Egg?

12 comments:

  1. It's either that, or the chance to be a bridesmaid.

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    1. So long as I don't catch the bouquet I don't mind.

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  2. I am afraid it's neither
    How could I GIVE AWAY a scotch egg...I am shaking at the very thought!
    I am presently wandering around the cottage looking for a prize

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    1. You should find one stuck to the carpet or under a duvet if you look hard enough.

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  3. I'm here in the US on another cold cold January day on hold with my university to ask AGAIN why they have not completed the financial aide form I sent them weeks ago !!! I knew if I got on one of "my boys" 3 blogs I'd feel better but mostly with talk of Scotch Eggs...I'm only in the mood to get drunk. Thanks a lot. It's 9:30 am here.

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    1. It's never too early to start drinking in the snow, Donna... or is it? Ask a Canadian.

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  4. So true so true. The 6-week cold, death, storms blowing in gales -- so January. And now it's bloody cold, too. At least for here. The thought of a Scotch egg at the end of the tunnel just doesn't do it for me -- but that coffee brandy my son gave me for Christmas just might...

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    1. Any alcohol is always welcome, isn't it?

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  5. Oh Tom you made me laugh as usual. I really sometimes wish we were a hibernating animal. We put our individual electric blankets on an hour before we get into bed and we burrow down like a couple of rabbits in the hay. I feel just the same as you about the chimney pots in the wind but when I mentioned it the farmer was so nonchalant (and it is his house and his insurance policy) so I try not to worry.

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    1. Oh Weave, I have a real soft spot for you.

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    2. Individual electric blankets?
      How does that work?

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