When they saw me coming they started waddling fast.
Away from the car...
... in the same direction I was travelling.
It made me think of problem solving in maths at school. "If you have a vehicle travelling at 60km/hr how much does it have to slow down in order to miss ducks travelling at x km/hr in the same direction?
The answer is: It depends when they work out that the waddling is just not going to help and they need to fly.
To Fester (verb). (1) To waste time one should be using for the purpose of study (confined to members of a certain university college about 15-20 years ago, but nonetheless a useful term)
I have no ideas for a post. Approximately None.
Givinya and I were Google Talking and realised that we both were entirely bereft of bloggable material. So we set a topic and are thinking about it. She might not post on it at all. I might not be able to come up with anything, either. But surely taking the amount of festering we managed to fit into our college years we MUST be able to come up with something.
And now I'm worried what embarrassing photos she might have access to.
Or what stories will pop up.
The chance that this was a good idea? ... Approximately None!
Charles Sturt University has made the mistake of offering me a place in a Bachelor of Theology by distance education.
I'm a bit excited.
I've been looking at all the great subjects they have available, and decided that really, all bar about 8 or 9 of them would be interesting to do.
I have to pick 24 (actually I only get to pick 15, there are 9 core subjects).
My first cull of subjects got it down to about 35.
Then I needed to be extra-specially ruthless. So I've got it down to about 27.
If it's going to take me 12 years to do the degree (one subject per session), do you think that they'll let me do some extra subjects? Do you think they'll allow me to enrol in a second degree to catch all the other subjects I've had to cull? Do you think that the government will support me to do all the subjects that there are?
And the chance of positive answers to all these questions?
I've said before that when I'm trying to get fit I've been putting on an episode of The West Wing and then doing my stretches and rowing.
A 41 minute episode allows for stretching, 30 mins of rowing (even with occasional breathers) and then either a sit for a couple of minutes or warm-down stretches. It helps me to keep going when I'm really not enthused by the prospect of exercise.
I'm not a huge fan of exercise, but without it I become simply huge, so I perservere. And The West Wing helps with the mind-numbing process, because it gives my brain something to think about, other than the fact I'm tired, puffed and want to stop now.
Yesterday I decided to use the time to pray instead. And it worked! There's something about rhythmic breathing that helps me keep focussed on prayer, and the prayer keeps me calm about doing the exercise. I can work out why I've not thought about this before, except that I'm not usually that awake of a morning, so I can't think. Yesterday was my day off, so I was rowing later than usual, which means that my brain had a chance to get into gear.
I'll have to see if it works on a normal day (particularly in winter when the sun doesn't get up till 6.50am).
The chance that I can think of a witty way to segue into my tagline from here?
Yesterday my Beloved and I headed up to Toowoomba for an appointment.
Afterwards we had a bite to eat at a cafe, then headed on to a brief Koorong stop to find a book that is next in line in a series I accidently started reading. They didn't have it, so my characters are temporarily stranded on their way to Alaska. Sorry, people, but they just didn't have the next book, so you'll just have to stay there for a bit.
Anyway, on the way between the cafe and the bookshop I nearly had an accident at an intersection.
Actually, it wasn't close to an accident, but my sudden diversion of all concentration onto another vehicle (including an excited pointing incident) could have caused an accident if anything unexpected had happened.
You see back in 2005 I took our little blue car to Toowoomba and traded it in on a lovely, new white car. I loved our little blue car. It was my first car and we had much fun and drove many miles together.
To see it yesterday was very exciting. Same number plate still, which gave an absolutely positive identification. I felt a bit sorry for the driver after I'd wildly pointed at him to draw my Beloved's attention.
The chance my Beloved has any lingering doubts about my lack of sanity now?
I've heard a number of friends talk about the fact that they catch up on Google Talk, so I thought I'd install it, then... abracadabra... I'd be able to chat online.
Not quite that simple.
After downloading, then fixing the anti-virus hiccup, then downloading, then establishing a separate gmail account in order to delete the new gmail account in order to register, then entering a couple of friends' addresses so that they exist in Google Talk for me. And now, two days later I haven't found anyone online anyway and so I'm left wondering if:-
a) no-one wants to talk to me, and me not being on Google Talk was a ploy to explain why they were always talking and I wasn't invited
b) their Google Talk doesn't have me listed, so they don't know I'm waiting for them to come on line so that I can talk to them.
c) it is technology. Of course it wasn't going to be simple. What was I thinking?!?
The chances that this post makes me seem anything other than a paranoid technophobe?
(Noun) The name of the feeling that overtakes drivers when the government hasn't ensured timely construction of road infrastructure.
Okay, so I made that up. My inspiration came from a board in a coffee shop. All coffee shops should employ at least one staff member who passed senior English. Or can read English. Or has had some exposure to English at some point during his/her life.
That said, I will give them credit where it's due. There were no grocer's apostrophes. None. Well done, coffee shop chalk board writer!
Now to find a dictionary to help them with the half-dozen other mistakes.
We had the meeting of the Axe Wielding Murderers Inc. on Thursday and it was great. Emily Sue then came here for two nights and then this afternoon headed back to Givinya's for a few nights until she leaves Queensland.
It's good to know that all cyber space people are not either figments of my imagination, or psychotic. And now she knows that Queensland is not just a fictional place where all the characters from southern soapies go when they leave the show. Win-win really.
And the chance that, having just been a bit catty about the standard of English at one particular coffee shop, there are no errors in my text?
It will be the inaugral meeting of Axe-Wielding Murderers Inc.
Or at least that's for all Emily Sue knows.
You see, our southern bloggy buddy is coming (actually has already come) to Queensland to meet some of us. For all she knows we're psychotic. Let's meet the players, shall we?
There's Crazy Sister. Bit of a clue there in her name. She has an acknowledged relationship with flame that has been well documented on her blog. She also mentions handcuffs. Enough said.
There's Swift Jan who admits to extensive training with sharp implements. She says it's because she's a hair-dresser.
There's Givinya. Now she says she's a speech pathologist, and we've pretended that we met at a university residential college. Who knows, really. I can tell you that she once SMSed me about storing murdered bodies in the void under my kitchen bench.
Then there's me. I've tried to pretend I'm a 30-something woman who works as a pastor in my church. All sweetness and light. Who's to say that I'm not a 57 year old man called Bernard with a fetish for cat-lovers? After all, when asked what my favourite office equipment was during a getting to know you exercise I once answered with much enthusiasm and a dark tone, "the shredder!". No-one was too friendly after that. I'm not certain why.
But now I think about it, what's to say that Emily Sue is all she seemed in cyber-space?
... Approximately Nothing!
And there would have been links within this text if parts of my computer hadn't tried to crash after a monumental "Graze" related confusion. Thankfully blogger automatically saved this tripe for your reading pleasure. How lucky are you?
I am 30-mumble, married, and I work from home.
We have approximately no children which is the biggest conversation killer for meeting new people. A dog just doesn't seem to cut it for the purpose of mutual child-related bragging.
I was always mad-keen on horses, although I haven't ridden for years. I also have a masochistic desire to learn ancient Greek. One of the few words I can remember is that for a passion for horses, hence the name.