Well thank heavens (literally) for that. Mercury is no longer retrograde which means that life should start moving forward rather than keep running around chasing its tail and persistently dropping the toast of progress butter side down.
Mrs Pumphrey brings me the celestial news this morning.
'I thought I'd wait and see how things went for a few days before I delivered the news,' she says. She is wearing a rather fetching Madame Arcati from Blythe Spirit outfit.
'Practising for Hallowe'en?' I say.
'Just you hush,' she says, and I am relieved I got away with the remark so lightly because insulting a chicken generally results in a savaging of the knee cap.
'I have been watching Mercury since last Sunday,' she continues, adjusting her turban. 'And feel I am now able to predict that life will flow more smoothly at Much Malarkey Manor. For the time being,' she adds, somewhat ominously.
She's right, of course. Madame Pumphrey is rarely wrong about matters esoteric. She likes to be called Madame Pumphrey in the lead up to Hallowe'en. She reckons it makes her sound more mystical and part of the whole 'veil-between-the-spiritual-planes' thing.
'Go on,' she says. 'Have a think. How has life moved on for you this week?'
'Well, ' I say, 'I've started teaching that Adult Education course, so I've got some income to cover Christmas. And Heather got a job yesterday. (At this point I shall allow myself a quick 'Whoo-hoo!' in celebration of Daughter being gainfully employed).'
'Anything else?' asks Pumphrey.
'And I have a renewed energy for 'Indigo Antfarm, Violet and Blue,' I say, because I have. I was becoming rather concerned about my magnum opus. Having been caught up in a huge whoosh of creativity during the summer, then a huge de-whoosh of flat nothingness when I became of the opinion that everything I wrote was a load of old tosh, I set to with the novel again this week and it's like a blocked drain has been Dyno-rodded and a big gloop of fatty blockage has been removed.
'That's no way to talk about Mrs Slocombe,' says Mrs Pumphrey. 'I'd say she was more fluffy than fat.'
'Did I say that out loud?' I say.
'You did,' says Mrs P. 'And you need to watch out for that. You're doing a lot of speaking your mind of late and someone's going to punch your lights out if you're not careful.'
'And Andy has been coming home from work on time now he is no longer temporary SVS,' I say. 'AND that eyesore of a lorry has stopped parking in front of the house and waking us at 5.30 every morning when it pulls away. Mind you,' I say, 'I've been asking for a bit of help from you-know-who on that score. 'And I look up to the skies and tap the side of my nose.
'Santa Claus?' says Mrs Pumphrey. 'Oh, it wasn't Santa Claus who sorted out the lorry. It was Tango Pete.'
'Tango Pete?'
'Yes,' says Mrs Pumphrey. 'Now the summer season at the circus is over, he's doing a bit of clamping and towing work. After all, he has got 28 hens and 193 chicks to support.'
'Right,' I say.
Onwards and upwards then, now Mercury is out of the way. Or at least taking a forward trajectory.
Showing posts with label Mercury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mercury. Show all posts
Friday, 2 October 2009
Saturday, 26 September 2009
Christmas Shopping
Now before I drown under a sea of protest, yes I know it's another three months until Christmas, yes I know the sun is shiny and warm like it's mid-July and yes I know any thoughts of Christmas should be banned until at least the middle of November.
BUT...
...yesterday I was out and about and I saw the perfect gift for my Mum so I bought it. And when I got home I made a list of EXACTLY what I am giving everyone else this year and with the exception of Andy's gift which always requires a lot of cunning planning and fore-thought, I reckon I could go out on Monday at 9 a.m and be back home by 11 a.m Christmas shopping done and dusted, bring on the Easter eggs.
When I was teaching I used to go Christmas shopping during the Autumn half-term. I'd write my list and set off with a fixed determination that I would get it all done by the time I went back to work. And 95% of the time I did. But this year I reckon I could break all records and get it done before October! Which leaves me two and a half months of angst trying to sort out what to get Andy.
On the subject of gifts, as a 'Congratulations! You Are No Longer a Temporary Senior Veterinary Surgeon' present I gave Andy the Wii Sports Resort game. I thought he deserved it after all the hassle he's had these last few months trying to keep everyone happy. He's playing on it now. Can you hear him? All that blipping and puffing? I went and had a go myself earlier and got beaten roundly at sword fighting and canoeing. But I won the table tennis, although I'm not sure that's anything to be shouting about.
'What are you playing now?' I shout.
'Frisbee!' he shouts back.
See - an endless source of quality entertainment!
The only problem with playing such games indoors is that you risk vitamin D deficiency by never venturing out of doors. So as the sun is glorious in Kent today I dragged Andy into town to buy some more wool and a jogging watch. The wool is because I need to work on a different Baby Bug Grandchild outfit as the initial woolly jacket plan in temporarily scuppered as I don't know if Baby Bug is a Boy Bug or a Girl Bug. (Although I am inkling towards Boy Bug.)
'Why do you need to know what it's going to be in order to knit a jacket?' said Andy.
'Button holes,' I said. 'Boys are one side, girls are the other.'
'Do you think a baby is going to be bothered by such etiquette?' said Andy.
'I would be bothered,' I said.
'You're so weird,' said Andy.
'You married me,' I said. I thought, this is rich coming from someone who wants Chris and Leane to call their child 'Doctor Who' so he'll have a chance of remembering its name!)
And the watch is in preparation for Monday when I start my running plan. When I had my pre-running plan run on Thursday I had to count out my 60 second intervals by muttering 'One elephant, two elephants, three elephants etc...' as I jogged along. Which is okay if no one else is in earshot and you can keep up with all the elephants. But it's not a wholly satisfactory or scientific method so we went into Argos to purchase a cheap watch.
Found one. Plastic. Purple. Big dial. Big hands. Perfect if a little unstylish (but then it was very cheap). Went to pay for it at the self-service till 'For quick and easy service' and for a receipt I was issued with a blank slip of blue paper 5cms wide by half a centimetre long.
So when the watch appeared at Collection Point B, I had to explain to the man who was serving that I wasn't issued with a proper receipt. He looked at me and sighed as if it was all too much bother to sort out. Off he wandered, without a word, to fiddle with the self-service machine, then to fetch someone else, then to fiddle with a computer, then to write out a HUGE receipt by hand before returning to hand over the watch.
This took an absolute AGE. I passed the time by muttering loudly about the appalling service in Argos these days.
'It's because Mercury in retrograde,' I said to Andy. 'If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong.'
Andy looked at me with his 'you barking mad woman' expression.
'But it's okay,' I said. 'The effect of a retrograde Mercury finishes tomorrow.'
'Good,' said Andy.
BUT...
...yesterday I was out and about and I saw the perfect gift for my Mum so I bought it. And when I got home I made a list of EXACTLY what I am giving everyone else this year and with the exception of Andy's gift which always requires a lot of cunning planning and fore-thought, I reckon I could go out on Monday at 9 a.m and be back home by 11 a.m Christmas shopping done and dusted, bring on the Easter eggs.
When I was teaching I used to go Christmas shopping during the Autumn half-term. I'd write my list and set off with a fixed determination that I would get it all done by the time I went back to work. And 95% of the time I did. But this year I reckon I could break all records and get it done before October! Which leaves me two and a half months of angst trying to sort out what to get Andy.
On the subject of gifts, as a 'Congratulations! You Are No Longer a Temporary Senior Veterinary Surgeon' present I gave Andy the Wii Sports Resort game. I thought he deserved it after all the hassle he's had these last few months trying to keep everyone happy. He's playing on it now. Can you hear him? All that blipping and puffing? I went and had a go myself earlier and got beaten roundly at sword fighting and canoeing. But I won the table tennis, although I'm not sure that's anything to be shouting about.
'What are you playing now?' I shout.
'Frisbee!' he shouts back.
See - an endless source of quality entertainment!
The only problem with playing such games indoors is that you risk vitamin D deficiency by never venturing out of doors. So as the sun is glorious in Kent today I dragged Andy into town to buy some more wool and a jogging watch. The wool is because I need to work on a different Baby Bug Grandchild outfit as the initial woolly jacket plan in temporarily scuppered as I don't know if Baby Bug is a Boy Bug or a Girl Bug. (Although I am inkling towards Boy Bug.)
'Why do you need to know what it's going to be in order to knit a jacket?' said Andy.
'Button holes,' I said. 'Boys are one side, girls are the other.'
'Do you think a baby is going to be bothered by such etiquette?' said Andy.
'I would be bothered,' I said.
'You're so weird,' said Andy.
'You married me,' I said. I thought, this is rich coming from someone who wants Chris and Leane to call their child 'Doctor Who' so he'll have a chance of remembering its name!)
And the watch is in preparation for Monday when I start my running plan. When I had my pre-running plan run on Thursday I had to count out my 60 second intervals by muttering 'One elephant, two elephants, three elephants etc...' as I jogged along. Which is okay if no one else is in earshot and you can keep up with all the elephants. But it's not a wholly satisfactory or scientific method so we went into Argos to purchase a cheap watch.
Found one. Plastic. Purple. Big dial. Big hands. Perfect if a little unstylish (but then it was very cheap). Went to pay for it at the self-service till 'For quick and easy service' and for a receipt I was issued with a blank slip of blue paper 5cms wide by half a centimetre long.
So when the watch appeared at Collection Point B, I had to explain to the man who was serving that I wasn't issued with a proper receipt. He looked at me and sighed as if it was all too much bother to sort out. Off he wandered, without a word, to fiddle with the self-service machine, then to fetch someone else, then to fiddle with a computer, then to write out a HUGE receipt by hand before returning to hand over the watch.
This took an absolute AGE. I passed the time by muttering loudly about the appalling service in Argos these days.
'It's because Mercury in retrograde,' I said to Andy. 'If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong.'
Andy looked at me with his 'you barking mad woman' expression.
'But it's okay,' I said. 'The effect of a retrograde Mercury finishes tomorrow.'
'Good,' said Andy.
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