The Corner House

Bit disastrous here of late. Last week, Ian fell asleep while the bath was running. Result, drowned house. A day without electrics and everything flooded. Bonnie pleased that she can claim on her insurance.
Today, couple of workmen arrived to set up drying-out equipment. (For floors and ceilings, not me).
One was Jack-the-well-slightly-older-lad. On seeing Fizz, he remarked -
"Dogs! I tamed two savage rescue dogs when I was young, so dogs don't scare me. In fact, nothing scares me."
Bonnie came into front room stifling laughter.
"What an arse," then she looked at me, "Oh no, I don't believe it. You fancy him, don't you?"
And I had to admit, at least he had a bit of attitude. He was even quite handsome for his age.
"Oh, no, I should have known."
She thought it was hilarious. She even hollered up the stairs "what was his starsign?"
"Sagitarrius" he replied, "half-man, half-beast."
Which set her off again. "Half-man, half-beast. One up on what you usually go for."
Sagittarian. No good, I'm holding out for a Cancerian. I've been told he's on his way and I've even seen him myself in the cards but he's taking his time.
Bloody gale force wind blowing through the gaff. Quite clever though. Sagittarius explained how the fan blows the water into the air and the other machine collects it in a bucket. Technology. Ian at one of his various girlfriends, I suppose and Bonnie and fiance, set off to their favourite B and B in Scotland. Me left with animals and inconvenience.
Bonnie so taken up by banter with the workmen that she set off without her handbag and had to turn back after about an hour's drive.
Who says there's no justice in the world?

"If you do ever go on this diet you keep threatening to go on, please do not talk non-stop about it, the way dieters do. It's boring."
Yeah, well....
Shall I do the Tesco one online? But it costs money and I really resent having to shell out money just because I'm a greedy pig.
But the advice and support might help.

Not long finished work.
A quiet night. Finished at uni but a bit backwards and forwards, mainly because I had to pay for the Hall of Residence till mid-June.
But, make hay while the sun shines or something, thought I might as well log-on and do a few readings.
Bonnie waking me up with news about this new law for Psychic Lines - they have to state that they are for entertainment purposes only.
MP's get real. I have so said this before. What is ethical in a capitalist society? They sell us facecreams, for God's sake, promising miracles.
Ladies, you'd be just as well off ringing a Psychic Line.
Mind you, that Boots one is supposed to work.....

"Plesniarowicz shows how Kantor summoned his old people, burdened by the children they once were, into a series of processions around the stage. The processions range from the tragic, as in the Hebrew lesson suggesting the loss of so many members of the class in the Holocaust or the heartbreak of the childless woman haunted by the hollow knocking sound of the Mechanical Cradle, to the nonsensical and vaguely suggestive drivel of an old man in the toilet. Each of these processions ends with the "intervention of the cleaning woman"--death--who sweeps the pupils back into their benches. Then it starts all over again. It develops differently each time, but always collapses back into impossibility."
from Krzysztof Plesniarowicz. The Dead Memory Machine: Tadeusz Kantor's Theatre of Death. Translated by William Brand. Cracow: Cricoteka, 1994.
......................................................................
Yeah, there's probably better things I could be doing of a Satday afty but still, I'm sorta getting into this Polish theatre practitioner now.
I specially like 'the heartbreak of the childless woman haunted by the hollow knocking sound of the Mechanical Cradle.' But, being of a melancholic Celtic disposition, why wouldn't I?

Another thing I do when I should be cracking on with essay is...
oh, dear...
but I can't be the only one...
google name of old...
well, crush, is probably the word.
Can't find him but his ex-wife comes up. She was never a looker and is now very round-faced, bespectacled and easy sixty.
And I still think she's the luckiest woman in the world. I know they're divorced but she got to have his babies.
I was good girl at the time (or just scared) and choose not to get involved with a married man.
Look where that got me?
Go for it, pollygarter.

Most of the time when I'm meant to be writing my essay, I'm looking at houses for sale on the Internet. I've even e-mailed the estate agent to send me updates.
One such update came today. Love at first site. A terraced house but somehow a rather exceptional one. Very pretty, with three bedrooms.
Disadvantage (well, second disadvantage, the first being my own house isn't even on the market and can't be for till next summer) - a huge garden. I mean, the Real McCoy, full of flower beds and shrubs and things growing.
I can just imagine the state of it if I moved in. Honestly, they should offer a reduction if a house comes with such an appendage. All I need is some sort of grass at the back for the cat.
But such a lovely house.
I'd have to watch every Alan Titchmarsh programme going. At least he's handsome.

No, haven't been posting of late.
A week of eye problems. You don't wanna know. Had to apply for mitigating circumstances because of it. Everyone very understanding. Result I'm now imprisoned by the essay I should have finished a week ago.
Oh, well.
Blue Eyes very kind, running me back and forth to eye hospital.
No, it hasn't caused me to fall in love with him.
I think Bonnie would, though, if she wasn't spoken for. She certainly likes him and Durham is somewhat jealous.
Bonnie has also despaired of my love life. She's come to the conclusion that I do not want a man because it would tie me down or make me accept the limitations of reality or some such twaddle.
I maintain that I just want to be in love.
She asks where do my ideas of love come from? The Jackie magazines I read when I was 15?