a twist in the tales of life

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Sing when you're hoovering

I am not the tidiest mortal on the planet. I seem to have a subconscious thing going on where I spend one day cleaning and tidying the house and the other six days wrecking it!

I’m sitting here by my little corner table which has a dozen balls of knitting wool, needles, pattern, three books (the one I’m reading and the nest two I have lined up) writers magazine, another 3 different magazines, my laptop, pens, notebooks, several bookmarks, 75 cents and a Ferris wheel toy belonging to Paisley my budgie. It’s a small table.

It’s not that I don’t like housework. I actually don’t mind it. Especially as I like to do it to music. Day tripper by the Beatles is a great track for dusting to. I just don’t seem predisposed to living in a tidy home.
I keep making excuses like creative minds are never tidy, a tidy home is the sign  of a wasted life but the truth is I need a 48 hour day to do everything I intend to. If the aging hippie feels like watching a flock of starlings feeding on my shed roof where I have just left their food I do. If I go to dust the sideboard and Paisley starts playing I end up talking to him. If a track comes on when I am hoovering and I want to sing along with it off goes the vacuum cleaner. This happened a lot. So I switched to headphones.

That is when I turned into my granddad. I started dancing with the vacuum cleaner. Granddad used to do it every time and it would torment the life out of my Nan. They were ballroom dancers and he had some great moves.  Maybe vacuum dancing is genetic?

Even the simple everyday jobs are the same. Dish washing should take about 5 minutes, right. I end up with about 20.  You see I have the radio on and then I end up having a row with it. Some host or contributor says something and I argue back calling them a ****** who couldn’t possibly think like that. When my beloved dog Shankly was alive he would come out look at me with his head tilted to one side and give me his ‘she’s on one’ look and walk off wagging his tail. I miss him in more ways than one.
Tomorrow I have time managed some housework into the daily planner. It’s all the distractions though. I can see them already. I could have left the book I’m reading at a really place and I want o pick it up, just for a few more pages. A few that’s all. Paisley could start acting the maggot when I’m cleaning his cage. He has taken quite a liking to climbing up on my iPhone when I’m texting or tweeting.
Not to worry. Nothing lifts the soul like the vacuum boogie. It’s a great workout. The all singing all dancing scorpiomoonrose variety show.  I’m no Louie Spence but I can do a mean Peggy Lee.

Keep smiling


Saturday, February 5, 2011

De Election

The time has come to exercise our franchise once again. The election has arrived. I’m sorry to admit to a secret little pleasure but I love elections.

It has nothing to do with politics, although I do follow it. It’s the ‘goings on’ that interest me.
I know the aging hippie is easily amused!

I am not trying to make light of the current difficulties some of us are in. It’s just the people watcher in me. I get great entertainment from watching the posturing.

Crowd scenes are great fun. When a politician is being interviewed on the election trail, watch the surrounding heads. They are all bursting their boilers to get as close as possible to the interviewee while getting their face on the T.V news looking suitably intelligent.

It gets even more interesting when a group of politicians cluster around their leader. Play ‘guess the pecking order’. Can you spot the favoured one with the best spot for T.V coverage? Also if a particular politician has managed to make an unmerciful mess of something, either in an interview or released a skeleton from their closet, see if they are placed in a prominent position for the camera with their leader as if to demonstrate support or their rehabilitation.

Then there is colour. All politicians get fiercely fond of strong colours. The men go all dominant with their ties and the women embrace ornate scarves, brightly coloured camisoles and statement jewellery.

My favourite election pastime is quip watching. It’s all in the digs and how they are barked. They pass between each other like a game of high speed tennis. A massive forehand is returned with a skilful backhand followed with a huge volley replied to with a smash. You can’t buy entertainment like this!

This time around we have the debate and all the hoo ha about who, where, when and by which. This could make great viewing. Yes viewing because I recommend doing just that, viewing.
What I do is turn the volume down. Ok so you miss the rehearsed pre packed and specially prepared for your delight answers to predictable questions. But what you do get is more fun than listening to the thunder. Watch the body language. See them squirm under the directions their communications coach gave them on how to stand and look cool calm and collected. Watch them try to cover up fury as one of them hits a raw nerve. Watch the ones who are off centre at a particular point in the debate, trying to look as though they have a clue what the other guy is on about. It could be just the laugh you need.

So to survive the election season, with a few good laughs, watch and see the antics, the faces, the gait and the P.R in practice. Enjoy the farce. You never know you could find yourself voting for someone you never thought you would!

keep smiling