Ahhh… it’s Monday again. Here’s my Monday song for you. It’s Haircut 100. I don’t care if you think it’s nothing but pure 80s cheese. It is. And that’s fine for a Monday.
This is when boy bands were cute and not quite so manufactured – long before NKOTB and Take That – when Stock, Aitken, Waterman were as yet unfounded. Nick Heyward was the cutest boy on television, with the biggest smile. He’s still cute, as a 50 year old (yes, really!) – so many men aren’t still so damn handsome when they’ve been cute little boys. Some men grow into their faces – a couple of boys I went to school with were very nondescript and hit their peak in later life. But Nick Heyward has aged well. Bless.
So what am I much loving this Fantastic Day?
Molly and Tilly seeing Steve yesterday – they were so excited. Tilly never, ever jumps up, and yet she did. Of course, she has missed him very much.
Sunshine and blue skies
These cute little markers, made from polymer clay. You know I’m going to be making some!
Loving my work – more new clients, including some who’d driven over 100 miles to see me – next by Skype, but it’s great to have such appreciation.
Loving Angela Carter. Nobody writes like she does. Her writing is beautiful, eloquent and so, so rich.
My newly-painted bathroom doors. The top lean-to is almost pretty. It only needs finishing touches and a new vinyl laid and then it’s complete. Next, the bathroom. Amazing what a tub of Wickes’ undercoat can do.
Loving commas, though they baffle the best of writers. I like how they divide nations. If you want to get a British writer and an American writer to fall out, introduce the Oxford comma into the conversation. Drives us wild. They say, without the Oxford comma, we would have invited the strippers, JFK and Stalin. I say that there is no need for a comma before Stalin because if you were to write the sentence to say we invited JFK, Stalin and strippers, nobody can be confused and think that JFK and Stalin were strippers. In fact, the Oxford comma is just an excuse for poor and ambiguous writing. That’s what I say to Americans when challenged. It’s an affront to my eyes. I don’t have love for a serial comma before an and. I can live with parenthetic commas before and, but not a serial comma. I suspect I would go to war for such an argument. A war of words, of course.
I love a war of words.
Loving the supermoon, which was huge and fabulous.
Loving France having a new president. Not because I have much in favour of Francois Hollande, but because I dislike Nicolas Sarkozy so very, very much. I don’t like a man who has to wear heels. Only Prince can get away with that. Something about a short man in stacked shoes is just wrong.
I write as a girl who has dumped many a man for shoe issues. I once got my fingers burned by going out with a man who was quite clearly wearing slip-on shoes on our first date. I shouldn’t have gone further, but I did. I can deal with a man in trainers, a man in boots and a man in wellies. I can handle lace-ups and tidy shoes, but a man should not wear leather slip-ons unless he wants me to call him Blane and compare him to the snobs in Pretty in Pink. If the slip-on has a chain on it, so much the worse. And if he’s not wearing socks, you might as well call him Mario and send him back to 1980s Italy to pinch girls’ bottoms on the buses. All girls should be taught to steer clear of these men. In fact, the estate agent who came to price up my house was wearing slip-ons. I’m sure he wasn’t a bad man, just – they’re so… just – no. Americans know them as penny loafers. I have no love for the penny loafer, and I have no love for a man who would wear them, or for Sarkozy. So here’s Much Love to Monsieur Hollande in his first morning as President Elect, just for being anti-nuclear and not Sarkozy.
Much Love for the chocolate eclair I ate yesterday.
Much Love to Stephen for his return to share the brew-making activities.
Much Love to PicMonkey – my new find for messing with photos online. You all know I uploaded a couple of shots of rapeseed or colza fields – and here’s what PicMonkey did with it!
I love cross-processing and funky, playful techniques, and this site is full of them. Easy, fun and playful. ♥
Today, in Pam’s Poetry Corner, I’m going for a little William Carlos Williams. It’s another short but wonderful poem. It’s very mono-no-aware – a bittersweet moment.
This is just to say
I have eaten
that were in
you were probably
they were delicious
and so cold
I don’t really think he feels bad at all. This is why I say people should never say sorry. Either you did it and you’re not sorry, or you wouldn’t have done it. This is a man who did it and isn’t sorry. It makes me wonder when our cherries will be ready.