Saturday, September 29, 2012

One wonders why one bothers

Of course Prudence said yes when asked to give a speech on kitchen gardens. (One of her favourite topics.)

So she read and researched all over the internets, thought hard about themes and attention spans.

Fully prepared and a little nervous, she arrived to find...

... one person in the hall.  This swelled (eventually) to 12 people.  There were a lot of empty seats.

By the time it was Prudence's time to speak, one gentleman in the back was asleep.

Monday, September 24, 2012

On its own

If, as reported, Iran is setting up its own walled-in internet, what, Prudence wonders, will the LOLcats think?

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Under the influence

Prudence merrily tingled her bicycle bell to signal her arrival home.

Several hours later, Beloved found himself possessed of (or by) an earworm.

Queen's Fat Bottomed Girls.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

In the dead of night...

Goodness, but it has been a long time.

All sorts of things have happened.

There's been a trip to Melbourne, which ended up with severe flu and delayed flights home.

There's been angst about one's employment - yet to be resolved.

There's been all sorts of busyness around a sustainability initiative.

There's been a dawning realisation that one of the surviving chicks is a rooster, then crowing confirmation of same, followed by arranging an adoption.

There's been car troubles of the sizeable-repair-bill kind.

And last night there was weirdness.

At 2.30am, Beloved leapt out of bed, Prudence struggled slowly through the layers of sleep.

There was kerfuffling and Beloved came back into the bedroom.

"What's going on?" asked Prudence.

"The TV was on," said Beloved, "and the dog's missing."

Not what one expects to hear at such an ungodly hour.

It turned out the dog, who knows better, but is determinedly naughty, had decided to sleep on the couch, rather than her own bed.  In getting settled, she'd trod or lain or something on the remote control, thus turning on the television.

Having freaked herself out, she'd sought refuge in bed with Beloved's 12-year-son who happened to be staying over.

Which was a much nicer outcome than the original hypothesis which involved dog-napping, television-controlling ghosts.