Odd Sock

I am currently at the mercy of the odd sock fairy...but it's not a sock that is odd that is my problem; it's a dongle.

I am relatively organised but the pressure of life dictates that I have a tendancy to 'put things there and i'll re organise/file/shred/label them tomorrow'. 

What i am good at though is putting important things in a safe place.

I know this dongle is required to run the program on a machine I have just sold. I know this dongle is therefore important. Hence, I would have put it in a safe place.....a very safe place.

So safe that I can't find it.

All the random safe places have been checked. A spare set of keys, glasses and thread count magnifier have been located but not the dongle. In an attempt to recall where it is that I have put it so safe that I can't find it; I have tried to clear my mind of all other clutter, relax [with a glass of wine] and await the memory's capacity to remember.....3 bottles of Rioja and a nice Pinot Grigio later i am still none the wiser. So today started the serious search; the methodical one. My office is now two bin liners of rubbish lighter and i have discovered my Assessor Training Files but still no dongle.

On to the shop floor next and all the logical dust traps there. But if anyone sees a blue dongle on a keyring that is a goldfish in a water bubble can they let me know, it might be stuck in a drawer with your odd socks.

When Jill had a spot of bother

Rapunzel’s iphone rang; it was Jill. ‘Hi Jill, how’s things?’

There was a sob at the other end of the line, ‘Jill, what’s up Hunny?’ Rapunzel waited whilst the sobs and sniffles reduced. ‘I don’t know what to do…’ more sobs.

‘Uh huh….’

‘He’s just useless; he’s doing my head in. He can’t do anything right and now he’s in hospital.’ The sobs increased to full volume.

‘Stay there Jill, I’ll come right over.’

Grabbing the keys to her Beamer, Rapunzel ran down the stairs, undid the solid oak door, drew up the portcullis and lowered the ramp across the moat. Stepping back into the hall to retrieve the keys off the portmanteau, she glanced in the mirror and admired her biceps… ‘good work going to the gym’, she thought.

Zigzagging her way across the country lanes, she reached the hospital to see Jill sitting on the steps of A&E, cigarette dangling from her fingers, her head on her knees.

‘Sod disabled parking spaces,’ she thought as she handbrake turned into one, nearly sending an old dear and her Zimmer frame into a lamppost. She jumped from the car and ran across to Jill. ‘Hunny, I’m here, what’s happened?’

More sobs as Jill realised who it was, ‘Oh Rapunzel! She rose off the steps and hugged her friend. He’s such a daft bugger; he went without me!’

Rapunzel looked puzzled… ’went where?’

‘He went to open up the acequia to let the water through, he yanked too hard on the gate and came flying backwards down the track, cracking his head open.’ Jill sobbed again, ‘bloody Jack, if he wasn’t so soddin ill, I’d kill him!’

A date with a masked crusader

‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, throw down your hair’

Rapunzel sighed, gave one last look at ‘Mr  Honest, True and never hurt you’ 

profile and went to the window. Without thinking she opened her window and let  down her hair. 

A gentle tug turned into a snatch and when Rapunzel actually looked at

who was climbing she saw an old Ninja Mutant Turtle.

‘Stop! You are not Donatello. Who are you?’

The old man stopped and looked up, ‘oh I am he Rapunzel, just a
few years have gone by since those profile pics. ‘ He began to climb again.

Now Rapunzel was not a needy woman but she was fed up of chameleons,
she reached behind her and grabbed a pair of scissors from her sewing basket.      Taking a deep breath she sliced off her hair releasing Donatello into the 

pyracantha below. 

Pulling the double glazed window to, she sighed, turned to
the mirror, funked up her new short hair and went back to see if she could find
her leading man amongst the players.

Paperwork

The working day needs to get more organised! 

Reminders, late orders, quotes, jobs in general... And it was a tidy ordered chaos at 9 am!

news in the Sierra Nevada

check this site out for all outdoor persuits in the Sierra Nevada and other mountainous regions and look who the guest writer is!!!



http://www.sierra-nevada-news.com/2013/08/alpujarreno-folklore-overheard-in-a-lanjaron-cafe-bar/

Just A Little White Village

Places make an amazing impact to many of us.

Homes Apart

Reams of calico sail, ribbon along the main street,

bougainvillea weaving its way up to the

scented rooftops sending you

 giddy with herby pungency.

Arbours of plumptuous fruit trees,

limes, avocado and oranges,

orbs for Eve to pluck for free,

denying the supermercado of trade.

Cats drinking on edges of water fountains

containing wicker bales soaking

of the basket maker next door,

to make, then barter his craft.

Whitewashed townhouses nuzzling

side by side with hotels, having

lines of chairs outside where

‘ancianos españoles’ pass the time of day.

Leaning on the wall of Calle San Jose

underneath Catholic effigies,

Garda Civil smoke and chat

in the shade of the calico sails

gazing out to rolling vistas of vines and olives

leading into the ‘pueblos blancos’

of Pampaneira, Capileira, and Bubion.

Relaxation behold.

crossing times

It's always interesting as a writer to explore things that would not normally occur. Even the most mundane can bring about more thought provoking ideas

4^th Oct 2011

Hi GeeGee

            Just time to drop you a quick letter before I head off to Uni. Mom and Dad are insisting on coming along to halls even though I could have got all my stuff in the Corsa. But then as they are straight back on the plane to Australia, I can’t complain. I bet Mom will cry and Dad will hug me to death and not want to let me go!

Mom has even made me loads of frozen meals ‘just in case.’

Speak soon

Oodles of love

Becca  xx

                                                                                       18^th of October Nineteen Hundred

Dearest Rebecca,

How are you? Are your mother and father well? I am feeling the damp a little on my chest and Great Grandpapa has purchased an elixir from the apothecary along with some remedy mix that I shall have in a vapour bath this evening after supper.

I do think it rather unusual that as a young lady, you will not be having a debutante ball as we did at your age. How will your parents find a suitable young man for you to marry?

            Are you sure that you are fitting for the University life? I know your dear brother has done well but darling, you are a lady and it may be frowned upon if you are a little, well, how shall we say, flighty.

With dearest love

Great Grandma Rebecca Shields

24^th Oct, 2011

Gee Gee!

You do make me laugh! Times have moved on and I’ve found a great guy here at university, his name is Tim and we are going bowling tonight and then for a curry with the guys. Next year we will probably house share with Melissa and her boyfriend James.

 Campus life is great. There is plenty to do so I don’t feel too home sick. Lots of bands playing and parties as well as cheap cider in the student bar, but please don’t tell Dad as he’ll go mental! He’ll hide his whiskey when I’m home for half term, lol.

Love and hugs

Becca

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

                                                                                 1^st of November Nineteen Hundred

Dearest Rebecca,

My dear child,

With much thought for your welfare and safety and in the absence of your father, I feel that you ought to leave this University at once. It is not becoming of a young lady of society to be sharing japes with young men unchaperoned, one never knows what scandal will ensue. It is forbidden for you to even think of sharing a house with such flighty young ladies who are obviously leading you astray and forcing you to drink alcohol, which is what I assume this ‘cider’ is. You have brought on a fit of the vapours, from which I am now recovering. You must be strong my child and return home to your parents forthwith.

With dearest love

Great Grandma Rebecca Shields

18^th Nov 2011

Dear Mom,

            Greetings from across the pond. I hope you are well? Becca has called me in tears and as you refused to own the ‘new fangled contraption’ called a telephone, I have had to resort to putting pen to paper.

            Please do not encourage Becca to leave University. She has worked hard to get her place there and does seem to be enjoying it. Yes I know she has a boyfriend and that she drinks alcohol but she is sensible so will be fine.

           

            Your loving son

David

Alison Edwards November 2011

like learning to walk!

welcome to my crazy world..

writings, scribblings and ideas are no good kept in a metaphorical folder on a pc; who reads them?

well, me sometimes: some random friends on various occasions. More often than not, they sit in the dark recesses gathering metaphorical dust. time to oil the hinges, open the doors and blow off the dust...just let me get the hang of this blogging lark and we'll be away!