I was having one of my periodic 'I must fit into the local area' moments. It's never going to happen because even MY accent is not posh enough for Buckinghamshire, largely due to my correct pronunciation of the word 'grass', oh no I've started grumbling already.
I've always liked that Roald Dahl, partly because being both Norwegian AND Welsh must be a marvellous thing, and partly because as a child, when I read the lines that form the title of this great blog post, I fell into hysterical laughter. I've not changed very much, and still find the whole poem funny.

So off I hopped to Great Missenden, home of the Roald Dahl museum.
523646_10100353162352222_1873190506_n
The museum was pretty good, although a bit small, not quite taking up as much time as I'd hoped. And there were some children there, selfishly enjoying their childhoods and not letting an embittered old crone like me try all the fun stuff. My favourite bit was the spinal shavings. The village is only about 11 miles from me, but it took me several hours to get both there and back, having got myself lost in Amersham. Then on the way back, I did some shopping in the Big Tescos and had to wait 1.5 hours in the cold because I grossly misjudged the frequency of buses in Buckinghamshire. This is why, when I have the money, I'm not allowed to spend it on fun stuff, but must learn to drive.
I also dyed my hair, and today I made FANTASTIC SOUP of the cauliflower and stilton variety. And tried to figure out why water from my flat was leaking into the shop below, causing the shop owner great sorrow. The letting agent insists (not for the first time) that it's nothing to do with my flat, although I don't see how it's possible, because it's not like there's part of his shop below my flat, and then part that's entirely OPEN TO THE SKY. It's all below my flat. Where else could it be coming from? And since the toilet makes a groaning noise for several minutes after it's flushed, I reckon there is a plumbing problem, either that or it's possessed, which would be quite cool and easier to solve as I'd just get a priest in.
This is all ramblings, anyway. I've now started Proper Worrying about the week to come, as it will partly determine whether I remain in the Shack of Misery. Any distractions from this (is there one of those Livejournal questionnaires I could fill in? Would anyone like to talk to me about U-Boats?) are most welcome.
Advertisements