Doris!

On my way back from the library at lunchtime my eye was caught by the wonderful word "SALE" and one of those temporary stores selling lovely knitwear.

As I wandered in to have a squizz I passed a couple of familiar faces so did the usual "allo darling, how are ya?", only to be greeted by a blank look then downcast eyes.

I had just randomly greeted the Topp Twins. Doh!

Oddly though, the one I used to swoon after at Cook Street market all those years ago at the tender age of 22, is no longer appealing. Good to see my tastes have matured.

Ring of Fire

Sometimes one chances upon fabulous moments while in deep sofa mode and watching trash tv, the following is one of them.......H.O.T.....

Ball Sports

It's a well known fact that I don't do "ball sports", social, carnal or competitive. For this however I could relent.

You're Never Alone With a Clone

I've been thinking about clones a wee bit of late. This train of thought has partly been inspired by the recent visit of a very old friend. Her husband took the first photo and helped break the story of Dolly the cloned sheep.

Needless to say even though Dolly has passed on, the royalties from the images still live on and of course many fine pictures of Dolly grace the walls of their house. All very fitting for a crofters son from the Isle of Lewis.

The other tangent of clone pondering is one I've visited before that has been reawakened due to the sudden cold snap in the weather and the fact that I'm somewhat jaded at present. The intense stress of work over the last few weeks coupled with an equally busy round of parties has left this lesbian feeling a bit wrung out, a la dish towel. One feels like climbing into the pink fluffy, curling on the sofa in front of the non existent fire while snuggling up with a warm body that does not have fur as it's usual form of attire. Advanced sofa'ing.

Here enters the clone. As much as one does like the blissful pleasure of skin on skin contact, the ex-ex and I keep sleepovers to the bare minimum, it's how it works best for us. However, there are times when one feels the urge to snuggle into bed next to the desired warm body when the jadedness becomes all consuming. This is when the clone is needed.

Unlike Steve Martin in his classic movie, I wouldn't need the clone to converse or communicate in any manner. It wouldn't even need to stay over and would probably be urged to vanish. It's only role would be to be there to snuggle up to when desire struck, and then to discreetly vanish once I was in deep sleep zone.

I yearn for a clone.

Oh My

It seems there is a reject bin on NZDating and two of them are getting married here today.

Yeah yeah, I know, when it comes to revenue I'm a total slut.

Excessive Moi?

So far this morning I have consumed:

1 large bowl of porridge covered in lashings of brown sugar
1 scoop of sauteed mushrooms
1 orange
2 muffin tops (I only eat the good bits)
2 flat whites
1 Roses chocolate

....and all this before 9.34am.

I think I need to get my jaw wired shut.

Channelling Gordon

Ramsay that is, not the Sperm Donor.

If any of you have heard an odd bellowing in the CBD over the last half hour, it was me. I have just intervened in an altercation between a pastry chef (Fijian Indian) and a member of the floor staff (Sri Lankan).

My words were along the lines of this: "I don't fucking care who is fucking lying, just get the fucking scones on to the fucking plate and down to the client. They should have fucking been there 10 fucking minutes ago".

It seems that the effects of my last major screaming outburst (Lions Tour 2005) have worn off, but I think I have now sufficiently let the current kitchen staff know what I am capable of.

I predict that all my departments catering is going to be ready well ahead of time for the foreseeable future.

Muscle Swoon

I haven't visited Dorothy Surrenders for a while, kinda over the glammy femme Hollywood images. However I have just had wee trawl and my oh my this little post is most enjoyable. Yum, YUM.

Possibly not the best thing for this girl to look at late at night before heading off to bed.

Fashion Victim

I have been looking for a new dry wear running singlet for some time. I have tried all the name brands, from what little stock the major sports stores seem to hold, and nothing is just quite right. As you must realise with someone as vain as I, it's not just about running wear, but very much about looking good too.

The ex-ex had suggested I come and look at some of the dry wear samples they hold in stock, so finally today I managed that. There was one product on the rack that suited my exacting requirements but they only had a size 10 sample. I decided to be brave and try it on to get an idea of what size I would need. The size 10 fitted perfectly, swoon.

I promptly ordered 2 of them. This supplier is a screen printing business and I am now desperately resisting the urge to have the garments printed on the back saying "this top is a size 10!"

Sign 'O' The Times # 2

Number 1 daughter and a group of friends are currently driving down to Wellington to attend the Homegrown gig. Of course Mummy is worrying about them doing the BIG drive, but she assures me that the driver is the world slowest and never exceeds 85k. I now panic about that, knowing what impatient drivers Kiwi's can be, and fear bad overtaking maneuvers from said drivers. There will be a lot of texts exchanged today.

What is unusual about this trip is that they are NOT staying at home with Mummy. They will be home briefly to watch (cringe at) the first episode of "New Zealands Next Top Model", then they are off to house sit the property of the Aunty of one of the group. Ok, so number 1 daughter is allowed to drive halfway across the country, attend a large music event, house sit for some unknowns in Wellington, yet she is still not allowed a key and free access to her Fathers house.

Child in situ is off at an Athletics meet in Christchurch. She is now currently the number 1 woman in her event in New Zealand for this season. I fear the rapid swelling of her head may impede her results at this meet.

Current plan if she makes the distance this meet is World Youth in Italy later in the year, then trial for the Commonwealths. She's not too keen on the idea of India, so I think if she qualifies I'm going to have to pitch the concept of the great suntan she could get.

Mummy is going to relish in the luxury of an empty house for the weekend.