IT IS MY PIE.
No-one really reads this blog except myself; which is perfectly fine by the way. I’ve long given up on trying to impel folk to relish in my musings and thus encourage in such a way, be they friend or family, or anyone else. I also gratefully accept the support they do give however, even if it is not all I could wish for.
Though not to diminish the occasional ratification I have humbly yet greatly revelled in, this is true. My sisters rarely have glanced, my partner of ten years did just once, and a smattering of friends have perhaps once or twice, but nothing more.
Except my beloved Mother, who always did. Every word. She who was so loving, nurturing and encouraging held total belief in me, along with an unparalleled interest and all I was and could be. Though I was obviously so overwhelmingly blessed by her being all she was to me, my Mother will remain always a unique figure if only for that, though she was, of course, so much more.
But I recently came to the full realisation that though I yearn for more focus and attention, I really only write simply for myself. This is why I first began, as a child, and why I have always done; therefore the reason why I must again.
Hence often why I post on facebook, any example such as a week in February.
3rd of February 2012
"I've worked with Tom Cruise, Jerry Kattzenburg... do these names mean anything to you? You are nothing!"
"Yes Madam, and your charm has not persuaded me to now change my mind and let you in. Good night."
A drunken harpy at 5pm does not bode well.
5th of February 2012
Having reluctantly arisen from the sofa to attend the party; and thus made a slush-trek to relish in the multitude joys of the London Underground ~ I must now acknowledge that it is indeed possible I will also end up at the disco.
8th of February 2012
The sweetest sounds to mortals given
Are heard in Mother, Home, and Heaven.’
Happy Birthday Mummy. I miss you SO much.
And I give thanks for you making me the most blessed boy in the world.
Now I know how the angels are made.
13th of February 2012
Abu Qatada illegally entered Britain in 1993, has never worked, never paid taxes and has thus far had £500,000 in benefits. And on top of that, his hook hand wasn't even real.* The 'tut' sound I am making right now is inflamed with profanity.
* (actually the guy with the hook hand is not Abu Qatada but Abu Hamza, but their similarity makes them almost indistinguishable)
14th of February 2012
Who ate all the pies? So far this year, not me; a somewhat astounding action when you know how much I simply love pie.
They say the proof is in the pudding. Or in this case, the lack of.
I was dreading the weigh-in after my P.T. Session today. Pleasantly surprised that I’ve lost 1.75 kg. This is less than one pound a week I admit but then slower the loss, the better to keep it off so is said, and bearing in mind I don’t need to loose loads, just shape up, I’m happy with that.
It’s progress. Slow and steady. And it was the tortoise who won in the end.
15th of February 2012
A mid-week lie in. The sun shines to the day. No work, no commitments other than a nurturing of my own body and soul.
Oh, and (whoops) I’ve had a pie.