Even I couldn't fail to notice that, last week, the supermarket was rather fuller than usual of unnecessarily intrusive examples of the unfortunate side-effects of - y'know, rumpy pumpy.
Sorry, too many 'of's.
Lots more small children than usual in Sainsbury's last week. (Much better.) The way I notice school holidays are happening is that the roads are noticeably emptier, which hadn't been the case. So something was up. I enquired of a harrassed-looking individual (she had at least three of the little blighters in tow) what the blazes was afoot, and she told me that the local Infant School had closed because of DISEASE. Something so virulant that had drastic measures not been taken the entire population of under sevens would have vomitted themselves into oblivion, and the disease would have jumped species and started infecting grown-ups. Obviously not a desirable outcome.
So closing down the infant school meant sending these little plague-rats, these Typhoid Maries, these pox-ridden harbingers of DOOM out into the middle of the population.
Cracking idea, Grommit.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Saturday, January 27, 2007
She was asking for it!
Michael Howard's wife, Sandra, wrote a novel last year. Quite well received by the press, not quite so well by the punters. (I had thought to make some remark about her possibly having better luck if she had written a vampire novel, but couldn't think of a way to make it even faintly amusing.)
Seems she is intending to do it again - lucky us. At a recent charity ball, attended by lots of the rich and famous, one of the prizes in the auction was a name-check in her next opus. No guarantee as to what sort of character would sport the winning moniker though.
The bidding was opened, one imagines at a suitably charitable level, by Armando Iannucci.
The auctioneer, Rory Bremner, took a long pause, and decided to stop the bidding right then.
Y'know, I might even buy the book when it comes out. Well, at least the very minute it hits the charity shop shelves.
Seems she is intending to do it again - lucky us. At a recent charity ball, attended by lots of the rich and famous, one of the prizes in the auction was a name-check in her next opus. No guarantee as to what sort of character would sport the winning moniker though.
The bidding was opened, one imagines at a suitably charitable level, by Armando Iannucci.
The auctioneer, Rory Bremner, took a long pause, and decided to stop the bidding right then.
Y'know, I might even buy the book when it comes out. Well, at least the very minute it hits the charity shop shelves.
Friday, January 26, 2007
The Green Mile
Makes a change from Green Wing, dunnit?
It has been an awfully long time since I last cried so hard in a movie. I just thanked heaven that SO was not watching this with me - with both of us bawling our eyes out the sofa would have been awash.
Frank Darabont has carved out a peculiar niche for himself. All-male casts, prison-uniformery, unexpected bonding, and really good endings. (OK, Shawshank was clumsily handled, but the ending itself was still good.) This one has the advantage of an absolutely crackingly nasty little turd of a prison guard, and one of Tom Hanks' better performances.
The story signposts itself well, with very lean storytelling. Moments of both high humour and high horror are subtly handled. Nothing is wasted, not dialogue nor scene. The movie is three hours long, and I didn't notice the time once.
And be aware of a particular character's initials - it's an interesting take on blessings balanced by curses, and which wins and why.
It has been an awfully long time since I last cried so hard in a movie. I just thanked heaven that SO was not watching this with me - with both of us bawling our eyes out the sofa would have been awash.
Frank Darabont has carved out a peculiar niche for himself. All-male casts, prison-uniformery, unexpected bonding, and really good endings. (OK, Shawshank was clumsily handled, but the ending itself was still good.) This one has the advantage of an absolutely crackingly nasty little turd of a prison guard, and one of Tom Hanks' better performances.
The story signposts itself well, with very lean storytelling. Moments of both high humour and high horror are subtly handled. Nothing is wasted, not dialogue nor scene. The movie is three hours long, and I didn't notice the time once.
And be aware of a particular character's initials - it's an interesting take on blessings balanced by curses, and which wins and why.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Birthday Card
I got the most beautiful card from I, like the view, and lots of singing from her mates who haven't even met me.
Thank you so much.
Thank you so much.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Its a worrying world
On Monday afternoon, our village and its environs suffered a power failure of about two hours. The day left enough light to locate the candles and matches, make a quick trip to the hardware shop for paraffin, light a fire and get in enough logs to last for a bit.
And time enough to start thinking about considering contemplating getting a tiny bit anxious. Hilarious imagining re-connection at 4:00am, and being woken by a houseful of bright lights, but how long, after all, would it last? It's blimmin' cold out there - how soon would it be cold inside too? And between the bangings-on of the Economist, Al Gore and SO, who works in the oil industry, it wasn't too hard to imagine a time when the power just wouldn't be on again.
In countries where this happens frequently, is it better, because one is used to it, or worse, because each power cut might by the one that doesn't end?
And where would things start to unravel?
With the passing of the years, am I getting more realistic, or just older?
P.S it occurs to me that these worries have completely overshadowed that fact that I have been computerless for the last 48 hours. Had to find the installation disks before I could get past a blue screen error. I've already tried 'the dog ate my homework' on Tim, and I think he believed me - will I be so lucky this time?
And time enough to start thinking about considering contemplating getting a tiny bit anxious. Hilarious imagining re-connection at 4:00am, and being woken by a houseful of bright lights, but how long, after all, would it last? It's blimmin' cold out there - how soon would it be cold inside too? And between the bangings-on of the Economist, Al Gore and SO, who works in the oil industry, it wasn't too hard to imagine a time when the power just wouldn't be on again.
In countries where this happens frequently, is it better, because one is used to it, or worse, because each power cut might by the one that doesn't end?
And where would things start to unravel?
With the passing of the years, am I getting more realistic, or just older?
P.S it occurs to me that these worries have completely overshadowed that fact that I have been computerless for the last 48 hours. Had to find the installation disks before I could get past a blue screen error. I've already tried 'the dog ate my homework' on Tim, and I think he believed me - will I be so lucky this time?
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Saturday, January 20, 2007
. . . and a new one just begun
'Samuel Pepys' by Claire Tomalin
'The Mezzanine' by Nicholson Baker (thank you Corey Redekop)
'Power of Art' by Simon Schama
'Die Zauberflöte' cond. Otto Klemperer (about time)
'transparente' by Mariza (no idea why!)
A scarf, champagne, and a box of chocolate-covered cherries.
And 12 of us dining out at the local fabulous Thai and seriously overstaying our welcome.
Happy Birthday to me.
'The Mezzanine' by Nicholson Baker (thank you Corey Redekop)
'Power of Art' by Simon Schama
'Die Zauberflöte' cond. Otto Klemperer (about time)
'transparente' by Mariza (no idea why!)
A scarf, champagne, and a box of chocolate-covered cherries.
And 12 of us dining out at the local fabulous Thai and seriously overstaying our welcome.
Happy Birthday to me.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Well who would have guessed.
The woman who runs our church Sunday School is leaving. Actually, she and her family are leaving the area altogether, and I'm the obvoius choice to take over. Liar-to-children* IN CHIEF. How is that going to play in Peoria?
Waah! I don' wanna!
*Sunday 14 Jan. Tried to make a link and wandered out of the realms of possibility.
Waah! I don' wanna!
*Sunday 14 Jan. Tried to make a link and wandered out of the realms of possibility.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Aaaaaaaaah
SO and I had our inaugural veg-out in our new library last night. I suppose to avoid confusion with our new Community Library we should call it 'the study' or 'the den' or some-such, but no, actually, it is a library. Floor to ceiling shelves full of (mostly) books, two leather armchairs, (pretend) fireplace, Turkish rugs, brocaded curtains, small-but-perfectly-formed telly, it's a lovely room.
So last night we wallowed in coffee, chocolate cake, armagnac and West Wing 7.
I revell in that show. The characters are compelling, the insight into government processes illuminating, and the dialogue crackles like static electricity. Getting back into that world was like slipping into a hot bath with a good book. I know who the leak is, I know who wins the election, but I don't care - it's a rare treat to see a good story well told.
I used to think that is epitomised a certain schizophrenia of the US of A's, but latterly I'm not so sure. As an extended ad for the Democratic Party I'm surprised it doesn't have the Republicans howling for blood. And of course it teaches more about the American system of government that any number of civics lessons. I do wonder, though, if there are young men finding themselves drawn into politics because of the statisticallly improbable number of young, fit,long-blonde-haired women staffing the White House.
ps In total contrast I also finally watched the last-ever episodes of Dibley. Apart from the crashing disappointment at how shoddy the writing was, why has no-one mentioned the startling similarity of Geraldine Grainger's and Caroline Todd's reaction to being finally married? Is James Henry sleeping with Richard Curtis? I think we should be told.
So last night we wallowed in coffee, chocolate cake, armagnac and West Wing 7.
I revell in that show. The characters are compelling, the insight into government processes illuminating, and the dialogue crackles like static electricity. Getting back into that world was like slipping into a hot bath with a good book. I know who the leak is, I know who wins the election, but I don't care - it's a rare treat to see a good story well told.
I used to think that is epitomised a certain schizophrenia of the US of A's, but latterly I'm not so sure. As an extended ad for the Democratic Party I'm surprised it doesn't have the Republicans howling for blood. And of course it teaches more about the American system of government that any number of civics lessons. I do wonder, though, if there are young men finding themselves drawn into politics because of the statisticallly improbable number of young, fit,long-blonde-haired women staffing the White House.
ps In total contrast I also finally watched the last-ever episodes of Dibley. Apart from the crashing disappointment at how shoddy the writing was, why has no-one mentioned the startling similarity of Geraldine Grainger's and Caroline Todd's reaction to being finally married? Is James Henry sleeping with Richard Curtis? I think we should be told.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Pullman's pulling my leg
The man's not anti-God! What he is, is confused between God and the god built in man's image (of course I use the male signifier deliberately! Duh!) and that's the one he doesn't like. Why should he? I sure as heck (this is a Sunday post after all) don't.
I know the subject has been done to death, (what an ingenious way of getting out of providing any sort of analysis myself!) but things started going wrong (Oh very well! IN MY OPINION! Happy now?) around about St Paul. In the face of strong opposition from within the very early, and entirely Judaic church, he took the Word to the gentiles. The man achieved monumental amounts. Christianity had no chance without him, none. No doubting that. BUT. Crucially, the man was writing in the sure and certain knowledge of Christ's return, expecting it in his own lifetime, and that dangerously skewed our patterns of belief. He concentrated entirely on the life to come, and specifically counsels against tampering with existing social structures on the grounds that there just wasn't the time. So instead of newly Christian communities getting to grips with the fundamentals of a life based on the precepts of the Messiah, and the difficult task of actually changing the way they lived their lives, there was an easy option - change absolutely nothing, and profess all. I know, I know, persecutions, terrible martyrdoms in the early days, and then oh goodness gracious me, these very same things meted out to others as soon as the church gained power. In the name of God, but God remade in Man's image. We did, and continue to do, what we want to do. Instead of concentrating on finding out what GOD wants us to do. After all, 'God so loved the world . . ' Loved. The World. This one.
SO. That, I reckon, is the toothless, dribbling entity in Pullman's Clouded Mountain. The God humans made, and in its name made the General Oblation Board, the Consistorial Court and all those other lovely institutions. And I'd like to see it dead too.
While I'm on the subject: Dust. The chain of thought falls apart in Spyglass, when Dust, gushing out of the universe through the human wielding of the Subtle Knife, is demonstrably at the mercy of human action, but that apart, what a great way of thinking about GOD. Not the apex of a hierarchy, which is an inescapable part of the language which confines our thoughts, but a truly all-pervasive presence, which will talk with us so easily if we avail ourselves of it.
And a couple of things I just didn't get. Mary Malone is told she is to play the serpent to Lyra's Eve. But I cannot for the life of me see where. She talks about abandoning her vocation for human love - is that the temptation? But Will and Lyra already love each other, so it can't be that. Also, Eve didn't harrow Hell, Jesus did. So how come it was Lyra released those poor ghosts?
Ah - Jesus. Appears very briefly in the Malone speech just mentioned, and that's it, in the whole trilogy. Pullman doesn't address Redemption at all. His quarrel, flawed as I think it is, is with a God. He doesn't - can't? - take on the real biggie. I'll grant him his atheism when he does that.
What a trudge through this post. Probably because I'm abandoning a Sunday slant, and this will be my last one. It's a bit of a bugger, but I've moved away from envying believers their certainty, to envying non-believers their total lack of angst. Here's a wry chuckle - I'm heavily time-tabled in Sunday School, and we are strapped for teachers, so none of this inner crap can afford to see RL daylight. Still and all, I read somewhere that the Chinese term for 'teacher' can equally well be translated as 'liar-to-children'. So I'm OK.
I know the subject has been done to death, (what an ingenious way of getting out of providing any sort of analysis myself!) but things started going wrong (Oh very well! IN MY OPINION! Happy now?) around about St Paul. In the face of strong opposition from within the very early, and entirely Judaic church, he took the Word to the gentiles. The man achieved monumental amounts. Christianity had no chance without him, none. No doubting that. BUT. Crucially, the man was writing in the sure and certain knowledge of Christ's return, expecting it in his own lifetime, and that dangerously skewed our patterns of belief. He concentrated entirely on the life to come, and specifically counsels against tampering with existing social structures on the grounds that there just wasn't the time. So instead of newly Christian communities getting to grips with the fundamentals of a life based on the precepts of the Messiah, and the difficult task of actually changing the way they lived their lives, there was an easy option - change absolutely nothing, and profess all. I know, I know, persecutions, terrible martyrdoms in the early days, and then oh goodness gracious me, these very same things meted out to others as soon as the church gained power. In the name of God, but God remade in Man's image. We did, and continue to do, what we want to do. Instead of concentrating on finding out what GOD wants us to do. After all, 'God so loved the world . . ' Loved. The World. This one.
SO. That, I reckon, is the toothless, dribbling entity in Pullman's Clouded Mountain. The God humans made, and in its name made the General Oblation Board, the Consistorial Court and all those other lovely institutions. And I'd like to see it dead too.
While I'm on the subject: Dust. The chain of thought falls apart in Spyglass, when Dust, gushing out of the universe through the human wielding of the Subtle Knife, is demonstrably at the mercy of human action, but that apart, what a great way of thinking about GOD. Not the apex of a hierarchy, which is an inescapable part of the language which confines our thoughts, but a truly all-pervasive presence, which will talk with us so easily if we avail ourselves of it.
And a couple of things I just didn't get. Mary Malone is told she is to play the serpent to Lyra's Eve. But I cannot for the life of me see where. She talks about abandoning her vocation for human love - is that the temptation? But Will and Lyra already love each other, so it can't be that. Also, Eve didn't harrow Hell, Jesus did. So how come it was Lyra released those poor ghosts?
Ah - Jesus. Appears very briefly in the Malone speech just mentioned, and that's it, in the whole trilogy. Pullman doesn't address Redemption at all. His quarrel, flawed as I think it is, is with a God. He doesn't - can't? - take on the real biggie. I'll grant him his atheism when he does that.
What a trudge through this post. Probably because I'm abandoning a Sunday slant, and this will be my last one. It's a bit of a bugger, but I've moved away from envying believers their certainty, to envying non-believers their total lack of angst. Here's a wry chuckle - I'm heavily time-tabled in Sunday School, and we are strapped for teachers, so none of this inner crap can afford to see RL daylight. Still and all, I read somewhere that the Chinese term for 'teacher' can equally well be translated as 'liar-to-children'. So I'm OK.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Lists
It has gradually been dawning on me that there is quite an art to making lists. I'm thinking here of yer basic to-do, rather than - ooh, I dunno, resolutions? party guests? shopping? laundry? I'm sure that there is an art for each of those (except laundry, because I have no idea why people would do one. Or possibly did one, it has a pleasantly antique ring to the name). Nope, the one that has been tripping me up is the to-do.
F'rinstance, a frequent entry on mine is 'Call so-n-so'. Easy-peasy. Find a blank two minutes, pick up the phone, right buttons in the right order, and I'm away. Except, of course, often enough I'm not. The line is engaged, or the answering machine kicks in. By then my two minutes is up, and I've moved on to the next thing, and where it all goes to hell in a handbasket is that that to-do entry has now been crossed off the list. Done it. Next. And whatever it was that I called about remains undone, but it's no longer my concern, because I've done my bit. See? It's the entry that's wrong. If it had said ''Arrange for the doo-dad to be shifted", then no amount of phoning, messages, crossing-off and hand-dusting would do, until the doo-dad was actually shifted.
So when the entry says "Write Blog", no amount of reading other blogs, commenting, research, reading the next chapter, or Saving as Draft will do. The entry needs to say PUBLISH POST.
ps Re-watched The Wonder Boys last night. Even had SO laughing out loud. Possibly the greatest movie EVER about not writing.
F'rinstance, a frequent entry on mine is 'Call so-n-so'. Easy-peasy. Find a blank two minutes, pick up the phone, right buttons in the right order, and I'm away. Except, of course, often enough I'm not. The line is engaged, or the answering machine kicks in. By then my two minutes is up, and I've moved on to the next thing, and where it all goes to hell in a handbasket is that that to-do entry has now been crossed off the list. Done it. Next. And whatever it was that I called about remains undone, but it's no longer my concern, because I've done my bit. See? It's the entry that's wrong. If it had said ''Arrange for the doo-dad to be shifted", then no amount of phoning, messages, crossing-off and hand-dusting would do, until the doo-dad was actually shifted.
So when the entry says "Write Blog", no amount of reading other blogs, commenting, research, reading the next chapter, or Saving as Draft will do. The entry needs to say PUBLISH POST.
ps Re-watched The Wonder Boys last night. Even had SO laughing out loud. Possibly the greatest movie EVER about not writing.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Finally
The Community Library was officially opened. From the inside.
Imagine the scene - a crisp late winter day, village green, duckpond, small children frolicking, village elders gossiping, 'Oyez Oyez Oyez' from village cod Town Crier, village eldest cutting red ribbon and being delighted to declare the new Community Library OPEN! Local press cameras flashing, or not because the sunshine is quite pure and clear enough, happy villagers thronging entrance, jostling good-humouredly to be first.
Yeah right.
Well it was chucking it down, wannit? Got there with five minutes to spare, to discover small children, village elders, cod Town Crier and Uncle Tom Cobbley and all crammed tight into the building, gently steaming and wishing like hell it was all over NOW. Village Eldest propped up in a corner, wishing it hardest, local press thinking I've Seen Worse.
So the red ribbon was strung across the inside of the door, speeches at only three sentences already overlong, Village Eldest, with crutches removed so as not to spoil the picture, lurches ribbon-ward with an unnecessarily vast pair of scissors, local press finds only possible angle by holding camera above head and shooting almost straight down, and the ribbon is parted. You bet the cheer was one of relief.
It was worth it for the looks on the faces of the little children when they discovered that, because of the prohibitive pricing structure of discs acquired for rental, the brand new, much fought for and heartily welcomed Community Library would no longer be renting DVDs.
Imagine the scene - a crisp late winter day, village green, duckpond, small children frolicking, village elders gossiping, 'Oyez Oyez Oyez' from village cod Town Crier, village eldest cutting red ribbon and being delighted to declare the new Community Library OPEN! Local press cameras flashing, or not because the sunshine is quite pure and clear enough, happy villagers thronging entrance, jostling good-humouredly to be first.
Yeah right.
Well it was chucking it down, wannit? Got there with five minutes to spare, to discover small children, village elders, cod Town Crier and Uncle Tom Cobbley and all crammed tight into the building, gently steaming and wishing like hell it was all over NOW. Village Eldest propped up in a corner, wishing it hardest, local press thinking I've Seen Worse.
So the red ribbon was strung across the inside of the door, speeches at only three sentences already overlong, Village Eldest, with crutches removed so as not to spoil the picture, lurches ribbon-ward with an unnecessarily vast pair of scissors, local press finds only possible angle by holding camera above head and shooting almost straight down, and the ribbon is parted. You bet the cheer was one of relief.
It was worth it for the looks on the faces of the little children when they discovered that, because of the prohibitive pricing structure of discs acquired for rental, the brand new, much fought for and heartily welcomed Community Library would no longer be renting DVDs.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
The Guy Secretan Show
Well it was, wasn't it? Ok, maybe the Alan Statham Show. Oh, those shorts! Best line?
STATHAM I converted it to run on bio-fuel!
JOANNA What? You shat in my vodka?
Or possibly
MAC You're completely gorgeous, he's a complete twat, of course it'll work!
Or possibly
MARTIN *sobs* but you won't live to see me qualify!
MAC Well nobody will live that long will they?
I'm going to watch it all again now.
STATHAM I converted it to run on bio-fuel!
JOANNA What? You shat in my vodka?
Or possibly
MAC You're completely gorgeous, he's a complete twat, of course it'll work!
Or possibly
MARTIN *sobs* but you won't live to see me qualify!
MAC Well nobody will live that long will they?
I'm going to watch it all again now.
Green Wing Final Episode
So how does this work? Do we all hit our computers at five to midnight and post like billy-ho, or do we wait until tomorrow morning for a more reasoned response and a chance to comment on everyone else?
This doesn't apply to those CHEATS who downloaded it. You know who you are.
ps I know who's in the coffin, I know who's in the coffin!
This doesn't apply to those CHEATS who downloaded it. You know who you are.
ps I know who's in the coffin, I know who's in the coffin!
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
157 years ago
The Community Library opens on Saturday.
Eighteen months ago our County Council published the results of a study into Buckinghamshire library provision, and decided that some libraries, by a host of criteria, were not performing well enough to justify their continued existence. Ours was one of these. Oh, the anguish, the handwringing, the re-jigging of the numbers to prove that no, actually, we were performing pretty well, actually, the emergency meetings and frenzied letter-writing - what a circus.
Looking back on this, it irks the crap out of me that the Council spent all that money on coming up with reasonable-sounding reasons for closing our lovely little library, instead of having the courage to say, sorry, there just isn't the money. THAT we would have understood straight away. Instead, all their effort and money wasted because they needed to patronise us, and all our time and energy wasted by attempting to reverse what we didn't know was a done deal.
So a group of feisty locals floated the idea of a community library, to be funded by anyone other than the council. Lots more work, involving legal, financial and property management types, then organising and training volunteers, and managing the book collection mean that by this coming Saturday, all systems will be go.
At tonight's committee meeting, we were shown an advance copy of the new county library flyer - locations, opening times, related services type of thing, and noticed a paragraph about the new community libraries. What is the betting that some councillor (she knows who she is!) will stand up at some high level meeting and say, look, we have five self-financing libraries - aren't we doing well!
Bastards.
Eighteen months ago our County Council published the results of a study into Buckinghamshire library provision, and decided that some libraries, by a host of criteria, were not performing well enough to justify their continued existence. Ours was one of these. Oh, the anguish, the handwringing, the re-jigging of the numbers to prove that no, actually, we were performing pretty well, actually, the emergency meetings and frenzied letter-writing - what a circus.
Looking back on this, it irks the crap out of me that the Council spent all that money on coming up with reasonable-sounding reasons for closing our lovely little library, instead of having the courage to say, sorry, there just isn't the money. THAT we would have understood straight away. Instead, all their effort and money wasted because they needed to patronise us, and all our time and energy wasted by attempting to reverse what we didn't know was a done deal.
So a group of feisty locals floated the idea of a community library, to be funded by anyone other than the council. Lots more work, involving legal, financial and property management types, then organising and training volunteers, and managing the book collection mean that by this coming Saturday, all systems will be go.
At tonight's committee meeting, we were shown an advance copy of the new county library flyer - locations, opening times, related services type of thing, and noticed a paragraph about the new community libraries. What is the betting that some councillor (she knows who she is!) will stand up at some high level meeting and say, look, we have five self-financing libraries - aren't we doing well!
Bastards.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Another Year Over,
And A New One Just Begun . . .
The many guests have been kissed and hugged on their way, SO, who did most of the work for tonight, has gone to a well-deserved bed, the first tranche of washing up is done and the fire is burning down to embers. The promised tornado hasn't hit our sleepy corner of England (damn! a budding career in verité journalism nipped in the - well, bud) and I'm contemplating my very first bowl of cereal in the new year. I know, I know, but party food is so - I dunno, bitty. No, not that bitty. You know what I mean.
So here's to 2007, Gawd bless her and all who sail in her. For my rapidly-nearing birthday, I would like
The many guests have been kissed and hugged on their way, SO, who did most of the work for tonight, has gone to a well-deserved bed, the first tranche of washing up is done and the fire is burning down to embers. The promised tornado hasn't hit our sleepy corner of England (damn! a budding career in verité journalism nipped in the - well, bud) and I'm contemplating my very first bowl of cereal in the new year. I know, I know, but party food is so - I dunno, bitty. No, not that bitty. You know what I mean.
So here's to 2007, Gawd bless her and all who sail in her. For my rapidly-nearing birthday, I would like
- an end to the western occupation of Iraq
- a happy resolution to Chris Langham's ghastly predicament
- smaller class sizes.
Not necessarily in that order.
ps I thought about a list of resolutions, and then I thought, naaah. Every day is a good day for a resolution. If you can't do it now, you never will.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
