Well, ‘tis six syllables!
Well, ‘tis six syllables!
I lounged in a luxurious lengthy bath this morning, appreciating the warm waters soothing my sleepingy body. It was 5:18. Mere minutes earlier, I was viciously dragged out of a lovely sleep by my alarm clock, which I think is now in a trillion pieces on the far side of the Bedroom. Oooooh how I love me sleep.
That said, I simply had to get up, and what better way to get the day going than by having a nice bath to begin with.
The thing, with me and baths, is that I forget why I’m there. I’m up early for a reason. Sorry alarm clock. I have to be out early, so I have to get up early. And I have to get ready early. As soon as I slide under the soothing warm water all urgency instantly leaves me. I blend into the water. Breathe in the steam. Become a physical ripple in my liquid surroundings. I almost drift into a meditative state… I say almost, I have a problem meditating so don’t quite get there.
This morning was no different.
Suddenly, I realised I had to bathe to get ready for the day. I reached for the soap and got a nice lather going, when suddenly some unimaginable force yanked the soap from my slippery hands. I watched, in both awe and horror, as the tiny white block made its way gently through the steamy air of the Bathroom, stopping only for a double somersault before it literally vanished from sight. I couldn’t see it anywhere. I rubbed my eyes (forgetting VERY briefly about my soapy hands) to peer through the steam in the hopes of seeing it – and all I could see then was tears. Stinging tears.
Swiftly, I resolved that situation, caught my breath, heaved myself like a dead weight from out of the water, and walked across the Bathroom to the cabinet on the other side to get another block of soap.
I found the original block of soap on the way back when I trod on it, and propelled myself forwards like an inept ice-skater, arms and legs flailing. I fell head-first back into the bath, causing most of the water to leave in rather a sharp fashion. Bathroom flooded, knees hurting from hitting the side of the bath, and now two missing bars of soap, enough was enough for today’s idea of a relaxing bath.
Lucky for me, though, I was awake, and after a hasty wash I was ready for the day.
Yes, I know it’s only Thursday. It actually feels like Wednesday to me, if you must know, but I know it is Thursday. I was meandering around the Lake earlier today – the very frozen Lake, might I add – and I saw this: ducks frozen in time. Then I looked closer. Not all were frozen. I then realised what they were doing – the Mandarin Challenge.
Yes, I know these aren’t Mandarin Ducks, but there weren’t any Mandarin Ducks on the Lake today, only normal ducks (even Tufty wasn’t there!) and the ‘Duck Challenge’ doesn’t have the same effect that ‘Mandarin Challenge’ does when one thinks of the Mannequin Challenge! Swiftly, I thought ahead and visited Wikipedia to borrow an image:
Ducks. Comical to watch at times. Next week, the hibernating Greenshield Bug attempts its version of the Mannequin Challenge!
I’d intended to post this (or something like it!) on Monday, the day after the New Year Weekend, and then use it as a template for a new regular feature here on the blog, to focus on the more unusual events that happen over the weekend.
Factual or fictional, it matters not – especially around here as reality has a way of blending in with everything else anyway. Not that everything is made up, I swiftly hasten to add… just that some truths may have been embellished somewhat in a distorted kind of fashion. There – my disclaimer for 2017:
What you read here is the truth, the whole truth with a touch of added zing.
Or added plunk, depending on just how far the extended truth goes. Anyway, enough waffle. I digress. Who me? Never.
Yes, this post was intended to be published Monday, as it was a recap of New Year’s Eve, but it was never written. Not letting that stop me, I’m writing it now. It’s only January 4th 2017 as it stands – it isn’t as though I’m really late and I’m posting this on August 5th.
I didn’t have a lot planned for New Year’s Eve. I just wanted to chill with a Melchizedek of Champagne, watch and listen to the fireworks at midnight, and then drift off gently and wake in 2017. Mostly, the plan went that way as well.
Firstly, I couldn’t open the bottle… and then when I did the force of the cork being popped sent me back to the day before Christmas Eve. Well, it would have done, had the sofa not been in the way to stop me. I had to get dried off and changed after that, for some reason the bottle erupted all over me as though I was a Formula 1 driver who’d won an important race.
Once sorted, I managed to squeeze a glass of Champagne out, so sipped it for the rest of the evening. TV was as fabulous as usual for New Year’s Eve, with what looked like programmes that had been recorded in June being broadcast. Mind you, I suppose the TV people should have their holidays as well, so I don’t blame them. Had I thought on, I could have written all of my December’s posts in November and then given myself the whole month off… although then, I’d have been really behind with comments and visiting, worserer than I am now. Good thing I didn’t really. I’ve digressed again. I continually looked at the clock, waiting patiently for midnight to arrive.
I was first alerted to midnight at 11:40pm when a tremendous explosion rocked the entire earthly plain and beyond. Someone had set a firework off outside (although it could have been inside, it was so loud!) which must have kick-started everyone else into thinking it was midnight also, so trickles of smaller fireworks continued to rumble on up to the time we’d all been waiting for.
With fireworks going off, I watched the second-finger on my clock reach 59 seconds past (or one second to) and I then remembered the Leap Second, so I leapt up and flicked it back a second to keep my clock in time with the Atomic Clock or whatever it’s called nowadays. More fireworks sounded outside, so some folk were in my time zone. I opened the window, getting soaked for a second time by windswept drizzle from the heavy rain outside. I couldn’t see any fireworks, although I could see the odd white flash, and obviously could hear the cacophony of bangs and whirls and whistles as they progressed away into the night’s distance. I found it odd, how at even 12:30 mass fireworks were still being set off in the distance. Definitely a long time to celebrate the stroke of midnight, I’d say.
I was about to close the window when I noticed an orange glowing light floating by outside. A Chinese Lantern had been released. A single one, carrying someone’s hopes and dreams out into the Universe. Good luck to you, I say.
After getting myself dried for a second time, I decided bed was in order, so I closed out the outside world, switched off for the day, and, as planned, drifted off gently. And, as luck would have it, when I woke it was 2017.
So, that was my New Year’s Eve. Nice. Uneventful. Back to normal now. Hope you had a pleasant holiday period also.
Reach for the skies!
Look beyond the immediate surroundings!
Welcome a New Year surprise!
Let’s look forward to Good Times ahead.