Today, I did stuff that needed to be caught up on. Like paying bills. One day soon, I hope to pay cheques into the bank. But one has to prioritise. And there is one cheque I haven't seen since half an hour after I was given it a month or two back, so I really should look for it again.
I went shopping. The butcher and the supermarket - just the little local supermarket, to keep within my comfort zone for shopping. And I visited a friend, who had sawed up some fence posts and was giving them to us for firewood. Together, we loaded them into the car, 'nng'ing at their heaviness. I arrived home and told the Sage. He went and got the barrow and casually heaved them on it by himself. Hmm. Picking up from the ground is quite different from sliding on the level. Anyway, maybe even now he is wincing from the incipient hernia.
This afternoon, off to the High School for the governors' meeting. You know, the important one where my part in it didn't really matter. I had forgotten that it was election time. Or, for the chairman and vice-chairman, re-election time. Which am I? Well, the word 'vice' is the clue here, darlings. As you probably expected. In fact, the chairman is superb and I hope she will stay in post forever, or at least until I have a legitimate reason to quit altogether as I really don't want to make the time and effort commitment that she does. I come into my own when there is a problem. I am, actually, quite good at throwing myself into a tricky situation and playing a worthwhile part in putting it right. Then I rather want to relax for a bit, which would not be a good idea in this job. Having said that, I've been a school governor for eighteen years and, although I don't have any children at school any more, it seems a bit of a waste of all that effort to quit.
I have pictures to post, but I'm too tired, or possibly lazy, to go through the palaver of finding the lead, putting them on the computer, etc, etc, etc (crikey, I must be tired, can't be bothered to rabbit). Tomorrow.
Also tomorrow, Bury St Edmunds. That is a place, not a plan of action. I don't indulge in that sort of vice.
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i think you should request to be titled Madame Vice-Chairperson, at the very least.
Wot, and be laughed at?
God! I missed so much already!!
Have tagged you, and I m at home for Diwali - the Indian Christmas! :-)
Hi sweetie. Happy Divali. There was a big Divali celebration in Trafalgar Square last Sunday. I was in London on Sunday, but I had to catch the 5.30 train home or I'd have gone to it. Thanks for the tag. See you in a few minutes at your blog.
Poor you. I hate Bury St Edmonds. I'd like to bury Bury St Edmonds. And that would be a virtue not a vice. St Edmonds himself of course is already buried, so he wouldn't mind a bit.
Also, did you know, some people make good livings out of being laughed at?
Hello Clarice, welcome. Last time I went to B. St E. I got lost. It was absurd. I was parked by the Atheneum so I was heading for the Cathedral. You wouldn't think one could mislay a cathedral in quite a small town centre, would you. I had to ask some schoolchildren in the end.
I love being laughed at really, but no one has ever paid me for it.
HENCE...the madame chairperson title. you can insist on payment. i mean, what is there to lose.
Hmm. A good point.
Don't let Ruby catch you spelling St Edmunds as Edmonds - that one is Noel.
Ruby is at http://livinginburystedmunds.blogspot.com, and is very interesting when she is posting.
See? You ARE funny - you gave me a big belly laugh with you BSE line...
Hey, Stitchwort, I spell it Edmunds, it was Clarice who, deliberately because she doesn't like the place, misspelled it. I then write B St E because I am tactful.
I've read Ruby, but not recently, thanks for the reminder.
Wendz darling, that one was a freebie.
Thank you for sparing my blushes so generously. I actually spelled it Edmonds (which I gather is incorrect?)quite by accident because I just don't care about it enough to get my facts straight I'm afraid. And because it is a stupid name. Like Noel.
Clarice, you are a rascal. And what does spelling matter?
Sorry. I don't think I've been called a rascal in 25 years or more.
But spelling does matter (and puncutation too). Depending on the error(s), it makes one look ignorant, thick, and/or lazy. If one is ignorant or lazy, then that's fair enough, but people and organisations wishing to communicate in written form can often convey their message more effectively a)if they don't come across as ignorant, thick or lazy and b) if people can actually understand what they're trying to say. I also think that learning a skill to a decent level of competence opens doors to the creative use of said skill. And let us face it, spelling is not hard*
*Any dyslexics reading this - naturally, none of it applies to your particular circumstance.
Then your spelling was disgraceful, beyond the pale, and you should watch for typos in the comment box too.
Is that better? ;-)
Well, yes, there is that. :-)
I do distinguish between typos and spelling errors though. Typos in comment boxes are a reflection of the immediacy and informality of online communication, of haste, and of physical clumsiness/tiredness. Spellos on the other hand are a reflection of what is or is not in one's long term memory, which is an interaction between one's verbal experience and what one has made of it (if anything).
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