keep catching my dad doing senile things... like basically these two ducks are using are pond for a vacay from the next door neighbour's lake (happens all the time) and my dad suddenly catches sight of the little mutts eating the lone, flowerless water lily none of us ever noticed grows on our pond. so over he hobbled to show them what's-what banging on the window shouting "VANDALS!! VANDALS"" Yeah dad, get 'em good, these ruffians...

He's also becoming a menace to my intellectual progress! Today I was revising and, foolishly, thought he was working at the other end of the table when I hear shouting and cursing from his direction and he's waving his Mac thing (the really small new ones I'm too scared to admit anyone I know has), so naturally I ask in my soothing tones what the matter is. But all is not as I feared, turns out it's just his hilaaarious app where you throw a piece of paper in the waste paper basket - but the cool and modern new twist is that it's all on your computer screen! so you don't have to turn around and actually throw anything anywhere!

I'll hand it to him though, he's pretty good at the game

I would say I'm worried but it's more of a self-satisfying, quiet amusement I get out of all of this. And the realization study leave really needs to end right now.






here are some nice songs from my Summer mood:












and this woman's voice is the maddest I've heard yet. I'm always jealous of singers who can do that thing where you sort of grunt and sing. So cool

Greasy birds

These photos from the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico are so bizarre..









(this one kinda looks like a turd?)

blogging again at 2am

I'm told by the experteses of naomi, nik and rosie my lack of sleep is due to exercise before bed. I know, i know what you're thinking; 'wow, she could be really going down the wrong path, if it's one paved by hip-wonder machines and all over super-fat-burn-busters'..truth is, I wonder what it is myself that makes me feel compelled to exercise before bed, and can understand it only as a foreboding stench over my otherwise pleasant mindset. The good side of things is I get to do weird over-tired things like peel grapes with my teeth whilst simultaneously trying to absorb as much juice as possible from the grape. This leaves me with a pale green, sort of fleshy lump with a large portion of the juiciness sucked out.....it's the real pleasures in life that count. And the light that is right there in front of me; the computer screen.

Another thing I'm gonna do now is post another poem I've written recently. They're no-where in the direction i'm trying to go in but hey who needs poems that sound good read aloud, right?!







(I don't know any eggs that crack like this..but if I did I think I'd be more of a baking woman)

This little number is called Breaking the Egg


looking at the inside of a shell
like a fantasy

I stand. And crack
it on the edge
of china

too yellow for sense
absurd yellow heart,
yellow, puerile, slow
stability gives way to
cracks, like shellfire

a round dent, a moon
feeling its lunar curves
split, watching the remnants
get sunny, all dazed

The egg in my fist
felt like night

fragility, hidden in curves
closes in on itself

reflections
loll lackadaisically
over and over
the bottom of the bowl