I’m trying to think of unusual words for what is coming out of my lungs at the moment, and ‘slurry’ seems like a good one. Yes, I know from my ‘Archers’ listening that it means muck, but it sounds right and it looks like something slurred. OH has also suggested ‘slurt’ but I’m not so keen on that as it sounds like a collapsed yurt.
Or maybe it’s a liturgy? You know, a lurgy with a great big IT in the middle. Anyway, somehow I feel that coming up with funny names for it helps me to feel better – like when people name their tumours. In the latest Rebus book, the detective has a shadow on his lung which he nicknames ‘Hank Marvin’ and which eventually turns out to be benign. I’m fairly certain I have a chest infection and not a shadow on the lung but we’ll know more when I see the doc tomorrow – always assuming I can get an appointment…
In the meantime I’ve not been up to doing much except watching TV. I’ve checked out some videos of ‘Rex the Runt’ (a wobbly bobbly dribbly squiggly dog)
followed by the film ‘Eddie the Eagle.’ This is a great thing to watch if you’re ill: the uplifting, soaring, swooping, yearning, stretching tale of a no-hoper who went on to be an Olympic ski-jumper and the British record holder is highly inspiring and altogether in the traditional British spirit of cobbling things together on a shoestring and coming last. It’s the perfect antidote to the relentlessly pervasive culture of competition which confronts us at every turn.
See you on the other side folks.
that rare thing last night – a ‘reality’ TV programme that was actually interesting and informative, perhaps because instead of some vacuous celeb or wannabe it featured the divine J K Rowling, who never ceases to inspire awe in this blogger, not only for her writing but for the way in which she has handled her fame. Down-to-earth and unassuming as ever, she trawled France and Germany to trace her ancestors. Sounds potentially dull but it was actually fascinating; she discovered that her great-grandfather was a waiter who was also a French war hero (in the first world war) and that his mother was a chambermaid who gave birth to him outside wedlock and subsequently married: she moved from Paris to Alsace-Lorraine and witnessed the troops passing by during the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-1. Fascinating stuff and completely genuine and uncontrived, unlike most so-called ‘reality’ TV. Watch.
Can’t find a link now but it was on BBC 2.
I was thinking this morning, as you do, about what you might call ‘foul-weather friends’. We are all familiar with fair-weather friends, those who desert us at the slightest hint of trouble, but what is less often discussed is the foul-weather friend. This person is your staunch ally through thin and thin; they stand by you and comfort you in your darkest hours and you firmly believe that nothing will drive them away – but then you have the misfortune to be – well, fortunate: you hit a lucky streak, your life changes and you are suddenly happy. You turn to share the transport – oh, with whom?* For your friend has vanished: it turns out that they were a foul-weather friend.
Have you had any foul-weather friends? Care to share?
*this is a quote from Wordsworth, in case you thought I was being weirdly archaic
OK that’s it for today as we are having a new cooker delivered and I have to Make Space
PS Oh, and the title was of course a reference to Rex the Runt, a divine animation:
Here is another sickeningly blue photo from Mexico where the boat seems to be coming on by leaps and fits:
OK while that’s loading endlessly I’ll tell you about something else. Who reads Viz? Viz is an adult comic – not ‘adult’ in the usual slimy sense but – well, that too, but it’s basically the Beano for grown-ups, featuring such characters as ‘Buster Gonad and his unfeasibly large testicles’ and ‘The Fat Slags’:
Very funny. One of my favourite features was the ‘Things’ – a pair of kinda wobbly-bobbly-dribbly-squiggly (oh no, wait – that was Rex the Runt. Remember him?
Watch this one – it’s very funny. It has Big Bob suffering from Random Pavarotti Disease, an affliction which makes him break into fragments of aria with no warning.
Oh, wait – where was I? Yes – theThings. These were basically alien-like objects which wandered around haphazardly being the subject of awful puns. My favourite was where theThings sported gowns and wigs and the caption, ‘These Things are sent to try us.’ Sadly I can’t find a copy.
Another amusing thing I came across down the back of my wardrobe was Professor Branestawm. I cannot understand why the Prof hasn’t been revived for another generation * – he is a great character whose inventions always go wrong but never mind because somehow they go right again at the most unexpected moments. Norman Hunter has a great understated comic style and I loved these as a kid:
Today I shall be mostly dramatic.
Sorry but the photo refuses to load. One of these days I will figure out how to use skype as well.
* he has now – this film came out in 2015: