I want to write weblog, but time is an interesting concept right now. I have lots of it, as we all do, but it is being used up by many other moments all getting their claims in before the W of weblog. I apologise. But here we are now.
Interesting dialogues over this morning.
“She was vindictive, but he was vindicated”. One positive, one negative. Another after the school run: “He was unable not to be apprehensive about being apprehended.” Interesting playing. And another: Sa Majesty. Why is the masculine feminine? Why are breasts male and balls female? In French, that is, not in terms of projected ownership. This is all rather like meditation or playing patience. It stills the mind, and my mind can get rather over-wound. I have tools, I am remembering to use them, and all is good. More than good. All is great. The shop opening is delayed, I had to pay a fortune to change my ticket to go to India earlier than planned, there is still no shuttering but the fog has cleared, it is all big, big, big, but it is all great. I am getting some acceptance. Certainly for today. (just like clouds, this, too, shall pass, but I will enjoy it whilst I have it. )
Other than that, I have re-discovered Victor Borg. I have cried with laughter this morning. Such a pleasure, but how to get to do it more often? It is not so funny the third or fourth time, but the second telling was still hilarious. I remember him when I was a child. I laughed so much, once, I fell off the sofa. Not what one does when an angry, rebellious teenager listening to an ageing comedian.