Back On The Train Gang

Well, first day in a new assignment, and back on the commuter train for the first time in two months - at least this job's got a spanking good view (over the hills and far away...). I'm beginning to wonder why wonky toilet seats are following me around though...second out of two postings...and no, it's not that I've got a wonky bum.

What Do You Get If...

You cross a sheep with a kangaroo? Yes, as any Beano reader should be able to tell you, a woolly jumper, and that's what I was very chuffed to pick up a rather nice example of the other day in the Salvation Army shop for just a pound. Russet-y orange chenille. The first bad omen came when I washed it and forgot to take the price tag off. Result? Little bits of soggy red cardboard all over the inside of the washing machine. First time of wearing it, and I catch sight of myself in the microwave door: realisation hits that it makes me look like Velma from Scooby Doo (it's got that neck, y'know?). Also, it sheds. I'm leaving more fluff where I sit than the cat does. And then taking it off again: the top underneath, my arms, my hair...all covered in tiny orange flecks. So that was a pound well spent then. Wonder if they'll take it back...

A Fete Worse Than Death

Tae Kwon Do demo 2
Originally uploaded by CornishRambler.

It's August, there's a threat of showers, it must be time for Penryn town fair. Or, more specifically, my reason for being there, to watch 'im indoors take part in the Tae Kwon Do demonstration. Now this didn't get off to the best of starts, being announced over the tannoy as the Karate demonstration. Ahem. Bit like calling a Canadian an American in the effect *that* produces.

Once the crowd had been moved back to a safe distance ("because we don't want to *kick* you, madam") the demo began, accompanied throughout by a band playing only slightly further up the street who came on exactly as it started - The Sex Slaves From Hell. Certainly added that little extra something! (incidentally, bloody good band, go and see them if they're playing near you).

Still, it all seemed to go quite well - possibly barring the crowd-wincing episode of the four year old girl who didn't have a clue what she was doing and the rather entertaining moment when the demo leader hit himself round the back of the head with his nunchucks...

Avoid Cliches Like The Plague

For those that don't know, I recently attended a three-term evening class on Magic, Folklore and the Western Magical Tradition - a group from those classes also hold a gathering every two weeks, which I'm now going along to. Anyway, last night we did Water Divination. This works on the principle that a person can leave impressions or imprints of themselves on material objects (think of psychics trying to locate criminals, hostages etc through murder weapons and pieces of clothing). A bit like a psychic fingerprint, or maybe the after-image of your body's energy pattern.

Taking it in turns to dip our hands in a bowl of water, we then called out the images that came to us, the idea being that these would relate to the people that had already been splashing around in there. Now, we were originally going to do this in a secret order - ie one person would be picked to dip while the others kept their eyes shut, so when a reading was done, the reader would have no idea who it might relate to. As it turns out, not the easiest of things to accomplish in a small living room with eight people in it...

Of course, muggins here got picked to go first, and as I moved forwards, with fantastic timing, the phone rang - so one person saw me as she went to answer it, she brushed past another person who opened his eyes and saw me, the person next to me knew it was me because she could hear me move out of place (should have worn stealth sandals, obviously) - eventually, I think there was only one person in the room who didn't know who'd gone up. So he got picked to do the first reading. Now of course at this point, anything he says is assumed to relate to me, as I'd been the only one to touch the water (assuming that the water companies haven't been recycling down here - wonder what kind of imprints it'd contain if it had been *through* three people already...).

So what did he come up with, I hear you cry? An Indian. Well, I'm thinking, I could murder a curry, but no, this was the Native American type apparently, wise and venerable and everso slightly incongruous in a Cornish sitting room. Oh, he could be your spirit guide, someone suggested. So there you are, a Red Indian spirit guide, my very own astral cliche!

Art theft - Monet for nothing?

Well, you know how it is - you see something new and shiny (in this case jamesandthebluecat) - and you think "I want one!" with nary a thought as to what you'll do with it afterwards. Admittedly, this impulsive behaviour probably has fewer repercussions with a blog than, say, an armoured tank or a cheetah (and I wouldn't say no to those either), but the fact remains I'm now responsible for this new baby and must therefore think of something to say...

Perhaps I should start with "gi's a job, guv'nor"? Currently looking you see, having just finished the world's most pointless temping assignment. Money for nothing, literally, for a large percentage of three weeks. Still, gave me a chance to catch up on article notes for forthcoming issues of Dragonswood magazine - check out our website and forums here: Dragonswood

Of course, now I actually have the time off, I can sit down and turn the notes into a proper, structured, well thought-out article. Which is probably why instead I've spent the day cleaning, hoovering, tidying - I've even washed the kitchen bin. Hmmn, that oven could probably do with a scrub too...

Baby's First Posting

The Cornish Rambler? I hear you ask...(well, someone might, if I ever actually write anything and then again if I tell anyone I've done it...) anyway, I'm Cornish, and I'll probably be be rambling (seem to have made a fast start there). Geddit? Oh, please yourselves....