To Blog or not to Blog

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to bear the slings and arrows etc. I see that the noble art of blogging seems to be being replaced by something far less savouryif not downright delinquent on the basis that someone claims to be able to read my face (like a) book, a pastime I myself have resisted on the basis that I have been warned you might catch something nasty - vis virus. But no, my in box is filled to capacity with warnings that somebody has been writing on my wall and challenges to pillow fights to say nothing of being prodded, or was it poked. One young lady blows bubbles at me from her back door step, on the pretext that she was only 3 at the time whilst an ex colleague peers at me from behind a party mask and challenges me to all sorts of things. e-mail it seems is dead and all information must now be passed by facebook, like knowing when someone you were praying for returns to their homeland. Quick and efficient it maybe but personal it is not. However since there appears to be no alternative but to be dragged into the 21st Century I suppose I had better just get used to it, although I do think twitter is better left to the birds. Talking of viruses, I have a nasty one on my blackberry (no not the garden variety). Ever since a colleague set it up to send and receive e-mails (it is the work phone after all) I have not been able to use the address book. It tells me that I have all these contact numbers with phone number, mobile, e-mail, writing address and invites me to do a variety of things in response to the plethora of information available. SMS ....... EMS..... (what's the difference?), send an e-mail, call home, call mobile - the list is endless but just try asking it to actually do one of these things and then it sulks and turns off.
I washed the sleigh last week and filled it up with petrol and hoovered it and did all the things a new owner loves to do. Now I know why sleighs are red, my silver one is as dirty as it was a week ago.

S'now Joke

Quite why the artic weather has stopped me getting to the blog I don't know. Monday, like the rest of the world I didn't manage to get across the M25 so spent most of the morning across the fields with Hugh meeting lots of dogs and dog owners all out to enjoy some of creation's finest sights before man and his mucky boots and tyre tracks comes along. This is also the time at which we remember that Hugh is not white but distinctly OFF white if not pinky grey. Not the pinky grey of a flamingo standing at Lake Natron at sunset but the rather grubby, pinky grey of a balding greyhound trying to keep out the cold. Tuesday I made it to work although most of my colleagues did not. Wednesday they all came in, I wonder if it was something to do with the phone call they had saying that I would deduct a day's annual leave if they didn't.
Fortunately the threatened fall on Thursday evening did not arrive as we were all walking back from a housegroup meal at an italian restaurant to celebrate Christmas 2007. Yes that's right, 2007. With all that happened last year with Mrs Claus' Dad dying and bodybuilder in hospital we never got around to our annual celebration. Next month I suppose we should go and celebrate Christmas 2008. We also celebrated Mrs Claus' birthday which was nice. Taking Mrs Claus to the Lakeside on her birthday when she suffers from Shopping Phobia was also a miracle but we got rid of the old bag. Suitcase I mean, we bought new suitcases for our trip to Israel.
Which brings us to this morning. "You sit and wait for lady, she hold your hand" This is the practise nurse lining me up for the next lot a travel jabs. Needles and me is not a good combination. The things that have happened before, during and after injections would be good material for one of those books that everyone always says they are going to write. Today was full of even more surprises - just when I thought I had coped with a sharp jab in one arm, she comes at me on the other side with a whole new syringe. Off I go back to the waiting room whilst Mrs Claus goes through her jabs with barely a flinch. "Are you OK, you look a bit white" "No, I'm fine, just holding this wall up for a while. The sad thing is that having agreed to work from home for the rest of the day I got stuck into lots of stuff, moved my arms around a lot and almost forgot about the matching holes in each of my biceps. Mrs Claus, having worked a night shift in the home for retired elves had to go to bed and woke up in agony having slept on one of the pierced arms. I know it will all be worth it just as long as they don't declare another war!