Who Me?

I'm sure I don't know what you mean...

Scarecrows

It's the first annual Dunston Scarecrow Festival this weekend.
From the look of the street outside it's been nice and popular.
I admit I didn't build a scarecrow, but I rather like that the first fellow below resides immediately outside my cottage so it appears as though I participated, although to be fair some of those flowers are mine. I sort of helped.
There have been something like 70+ scarecrows and I feel a little sorry that I didn't have time to make one myself. There are all manner of chaps stationed round the village and seeing as you couldn't make it, I thought I'd share a wee handful with you. See how generous I am.
They're pretty cool eh?

Out To Get Me

I'd been having this weird feeling I was going to have a car accident.
I haven't had a car accident, but I am starting to feel that the universe is conspiring to scare me on the roads as many times as possible.
Check this out.

I drove to collect my Dad from hospital in Nottingham, on the way there I reached a cross roads that I use regularly. The view to the left is clear for a long, long way and I could see no traffic, the road straight ahead was also clear, I turned my head to the right, there was a queue of traffic, at the front of which were two lorries slowly turning into my road, heading for the quarry. I went to move but caught sight of movement. A genius had decided that on a junction would be the best place to overtake. It's a pretty sure thing it would have been lights out if I'd made the manoeuvre.

Just 15 minutes or so later, I sat in the outside lane of the dual carriageway, overtaking a number of vehicles, about to overtake a white van and lorry. Only, the white van decided that as I drew level with its rear bumper it should pull out. I mean, it had mirrors, why check there was nothing there? I sat on the horn and made it clear I was displeased. On the upside Mrs White Van Driver did have the courtesy to apologise as I glowered at her on finally passing.

So, Dad collected, we commence the journey home. We enter a roundabout, clearly signalling, only someone thought this would be an excellent time to pull out in front of me. And then change their minds. Blocking my lane and forcing some serious fast thinking as there was traffic in the next lane too. I gave him a forceful beep and you know what? The bastard beeped me back. Upon telling my friend Harriet, she immediately spoke the thought in my mind: "The injustice of it!" He did wrong and I got beeped. Pfft, I hope he gets piles.

You'd think that would suffice right?

Then yesterday, I'm driving round the block in my village. I reach my own road, I see a car coming towards me. Which decides to turn. Immediately in front of me. No signal, just a turn. My handbag left the front seat and slammed into the dashboard as I squealed to the most serious emergency stop I can remember completing in a while, even surpassing the previous three events. I sat for a few moments, shaking quite violently. Before the road rage overcame me, I leapt out of my car and the damn woman ran in her house before I could have words. Grrr.

I went for drinks last night with friends, as I don't drink it was pineapple juice and lemonade for me. I drove my friends home quite late and as I drove, doing the speed limit, I noticed a taxi behind me, closely examining my rear bumper. Clearly contemplating giving it a kiss. I drew close to my friends road, I indicated, that I was intending to turn right, across the carriageway. The taxi decided that this would be an appropriate time to overtake. Had I made the turn, he would have completely slammed into the side of my car. I sat on my brakes and horn. Again.

I pulled up outside Rachael's house, turned to her and said "Seriously, is it me or are they out to get me?!"

I won't even mention how foggy it's been the past few mornings and that people aren't switching on their lights. Pulling out of my village feels like taking your life in your hands as they suddenly loom out of the mist, invisible to the last moment. I hope they all get piles too.
And I wish a slightly lesser punishment on those that go too far and never turn off their ruddy fog lights. When you're behind them, feeling your vision slowly slipping away as the light blinds you more and more each second.
I hate you all damn it! You're all going on The List.

Song Of The Week XXXIV

I'm quite disappointed in myself.
Some years ago, when I attended Cambridge Folk Festival, Nick Cave was playing and I didn't go and watch him.
Back then I wasn't really interested, then a friend sent me one of his albums and I was instantly converted.
Abattoir Blues & Lyre of Orpheus took my breath away and I listened to it earlier this week, deciding I had to choose a song for this week.
This one won... for no reason other than its sheer beauty.

Can you listen and tell me it's not beautiful?

Nick Cave - Babe, You Turn Me On:

Unhappy Ending

I was just updating my Recently Read & Reading section.
I'm not sure I should have counted 'It should be you' by Josie Lloyd though. I didn't finish it. When I got to the point that I was hoping that the central character, Charlie, was either going to get shot in the head or have a deeply unhappy ending in some other way, I realised I probably wasn't really drawn into the book.
I hated her. And I hated her friends. But something told me that, with it being chick-lit, they weren't all going to be maimed in the way I was fantasising about.
So, I pulled out the bookmark and the book is going to be given away.
It ought to be a candidate for Book Crossing but I'm not sure it would be fair to inflict it on some unknowing stranger.
I've moved on to The Neon Bible and it's a vast improvement.

More Misdiallings

The ding-dong from my phone announced the arrival of a new text message.
It was a number I didn't recognise, using words I didn't recognise.
"Hey gawjus" it read.
I frowned. Was someone teasing me from a new phone number or was this a misdial?
"Gawjus?! Me?" I replied.
"O Yes" came the reply.
Anyone that knows me knows I loathe txtspk only a little more than I loathe bad spelling.
I replied again, "Hmm. I think you either have the wrong number or you changed your number."
Finally I received a response in English; "who is this?" they asked.
"Who do you think it is?" I asked, ignoring the rule about not answering a question with a question.
"Itd b easier if u told me haha" they said, swiftly followed by "Is dis Sheila?"
Ah, safe to say I am indeed not Sheila.
"No, I'm sleepyhead"
I thought this would be the end of it. But no. More terrible txtspk came my way.
"K kool, i got rong numba sori" Seriously. Who talks like that?
In my polite manner, I responded again "No worries. Cheers!"
That was the end. Surely?
No.
"Bye xxxxxxxxx mwah! X"
I wonder if he's as free with his kisses with all strangers?
I also wonder if my numbers are out there for all and sundry to call and text at their leisure. Surely this isn't normal? Oh wait, nor am I!

Song Of The Week XXXIII

Having a big update after a manic week which has barely left time to breathe.
I need to choose my seven blogs of brilliance. It's harder than I thought.

So, as it's been a couple of weeks, it definitely is time for my new nomination for song of the week.
I heard this on last.fm - which I'm still loving - although I wish all the artists I love had stuff uploaded!
Anyway, I've always liked Jim Moray since I first saw him performing with The Big Session crowd.
This popped up on last.fm and blew me away, I didn't expect it to be as it was and I'm still hooked.

Jim Moray - Lucy Wan: