Monday 13 January

my-journalWhen I designed this blog my intention was to dedicate it to articles about handwriting and calligraphy. Then I checked around the Internet and found hundreds of blogs and static pages doing just what I had intended to do, and no doubt there are thousands more that I don’t know about so I decided to use this blog for something else.


When I was in the Army I always kept diaries and journals and having got into the habit I carried on writing up to the present day. I’m the only one who ever reads them and I keep them away from prying eyes. Just as well because some of the entries are a bit too “flowery” to be made public and the evidence in them could be used against me and I would probably be blogging about “Life in Prison” now.

So I thought I would write about the daily life and tribulations of a typical old git with a mangy fat cat, who lives alone in a scruffy old house, and who the neighbours choose to ignore; in other words ME!

180px-The_Play_What_I_WroteNaturally I will leave out the Anglo-Saxon words so as to not to offend the sensitivity of any ladies who might stumble upon this blog whilst looking for Mills and Boon romantic novels.

I don’t profess to be a master of the correct use of grammar, and sometimes I write like what Ernie Wise did, and I have been known to make smelling pistakes occasionally.

So without further ado, just what have I done today? I had planned on making some bread so I laid out my stall. Let’s see now. . .flour, yes. . .warm water, yes. . . salt, yes. . .pinch of sugar, yes. . .mixer with dough hook, yes. . .proofing oven on, yes. . .yeast?. . .Oh NO! I forgot to buy some.

I’ll just go to the shop and get some instant yeast. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Won’t take five minutes.

[RING RING] Oh for F . . . Heavens sake! Who can that be? Opening the door I was greeted by “Hi Keith, I wonder if you could do me a favour?” That was it, I was trapped. I let her in and we spent about three hours searching the Internet for some wool of a certain green she needed for a project; something like a cross between Lincoln Green and Squashed Frog poo. Needless to say I couldn’t find anything and she accused me of not trying, and stormed out. I shouted “Be off with you then wench, and don’t slam the d [Bang!] oor. . . too late!”

Ah well, there’s always tomorrow to make my bread. In the meantime I just have to have some ginger cake with my tomato soup.

‘ave a nice day, y’all.