On the move

Past and future posts for this blog have been integrated with my "posh" blog under the category "wry" and can be found at http://www.frothyfilosofy.wordpress.com/      I hope you will continue to follow my wistful and wry observations on life.

Elephant in the Room

She: "I think it is time we talked about the, you know, the elephant  in the room."

He: "I wondered when you would get round to mentioning that."

She: "It has been on my mind a long time. I was waiting for you to explain, but it looks like I will be waiting forever."

He: "Explain? I don't understand."

She: "What do you mean, you don't understand? I'm talking about the elephant in the room."

He: "I know what you're talking about, but I thought it was yours."

She: "What do you mean you thought it was mine?"

He:  " The elephant. I thought it was your elephant."

She: "Mine? Why would I need an elephant?"

He: "I don't know. I thought it best not to ask. As an aide-memoire maybe."

She: "It is not my elephant. I thought it was yours."

He: "Mine? Why would I need an elephant?"

She: "I've no idea. I thought it might have been a 'man thing'."

He: "Let's get this straight. It's not your elephant. It's not my elephant. What the hell is it doing here?"

She: "You mean that for months we have organised our lives around a huge animal that had nothing to do with either of us? Oh, that's just brilliant. Day after day having to edge round the sides of the room to get from one end to the other, watching TV through its legs as we balanced our meals on trays ever fearful of it having a 'little accident'. Not to mention the huge insrease in our food and water bills. What are we going to do?"

He: "Entice it out with a row of buns and never mention it again."

Chip News

Our local evening newspaper had an enticing offer to recruit new readers the other day - free chips. I'm not sure if the chips came ready-wrapped in the paper. I would have thought the last thing the people of this good town needed was to eat more chips.

A Walk in the Park

On sunday morning I went for a walk in the park. This was not easy. It involved detailed preparations to protect myself against the cold. A fresh covering of snow had been carefully placed over the town during the night.

I took my camera to capture the beauty of the morning. I met some swans who were walking on thin ice - not in terms of their attitude towards me, they really were on thin ice.

I followed the course of the miniature railway that winds its way around the lake. No trains on this day. I kept on the right side of the tracks for most of the way. At one point I walked close to the edge of the lake. The whole experience signalled the start of a day of cliches. At the end of the day I went to bed.

Birthday Message

I imagine that Declan from Finedon is feeling fine today because it is his 18th birthday. Someone has a fine love for Declan from Finedon.

I possess these two pieces of knowledge because they took the trouble to find - in Finedon - an old grey sheet with faded memories of once being pristine white. How we all age. And having found the sheet, they imaginatively and creatively used a can of black paint to spray "18 Declan" on it.

Furthermore, they took this thoughtful and heartfelt message a stage further in Finedon and draped it over the roundabout so everyone could find out about Declan of Finedon on what would have otherwise been a dull drive to work on a Monday morning. 

Car Park by Escher

I had a strange feeling when I visited one of the multi-storey car-parks in Northampton the other day. This was not the sole purpose of the trip, of course, just a necesary by-product. It was very busy and so I had to drive up to quite a high level - not in relation to my standard of driving but in relation to the levels in the carpark you understand.

On leaving the car-park I had the distinct impression that the downward journey was a  lot longer than the upward journey, leading me to speculate that we were caught in an impossible construction designed by M. C. Escher and some how appropriated by Stephen King such that we were doomed to go round forever. Northampton often has this effect on me.

Metaphorical Forecast

We have just received a forecast from the metaphorical office. A band of cold weather is marching towards the south, with a strong wind section and occasional bouts of percussion. It will reach a crescendo over Essex before dispersing into several bars, where it will cause some local disturbances. Wear ear-muffs and gloves if you want to look cool in Southend.