Monday 2 January 2017

Fudge for breakfast

So, who was it said, "man cannot live by chocolate orange, heroes, wensleydale with apricots and mince pies alone'?
Well, they couldn't have been more wrong.
This has been my staple diet for more than a week now and I'm still alive and kicking.
I may be the size of a small island in the Indian Ocean, with more spots than a Dalmatian, more wired than Michael McIntyre on speed, and hysterically prone to spouting comic references to poor-diet-induced side effects, but I am still breathing nonetheless.
Actually, was it "bread"?
Whatever!
Quite frankly, it's my blog so I'll just make it up, I'm too tired, bloated and malnourished to care so you'd better not argue with me or I'll sit on you.  Or I would, if I could actually get off the sofa.
It's January 2nd, my 'healthy eating' resolution went out of the window on January 1st when I started the day with, erm, rum and raisin fudge.

For a while last year, I suffered from vertigo and splinters in my behind while I sat atop of the fence, soaking up the barrage of dubious facts and figures from both sides in the run-up to the EU referendum.
I weighed up the pros and cons and quite frankly, I can see good and bad in everyone, oh wait, is that just a line from a dodgy 80s song?
I know it's taken me some time to get on my soap box about this but, to be honest, it took a while to climb down from the fence and then I started on the wenseydale.....
In summary, there was an election, closely followed by mass hysteria on Facebook and an unprecedented outpouring of hatred, name-calling and rudeness, branding out-ers as simple-minded, racist, coffin-dodging psychopaths.
I understand the stakes (or at least, as much as anyone can without a crystal ball or a time-machine) but I genuinely think the backlash was uncalled for and shouting, 'let's vote again' was akin to a bossy boots kid in the playground doing 'rock, paper, scissors' again and again until they're not out.
You know what, we're six months on, the world is still turning.
I may not have much of an opinion about the European Union but I do have an opinion about people sulking just because not everyone agrees with them.
We all see things differently at the end of the day, surely that's the beauty of being an individual, with unique thoughts and respectful of other people's opinions with regard to religion, politics, the EU, Victoria Beckham's OBE, Marmite.
For example, there were some fireworks on the television on New Year's Eve and my friend said they looked like curly fries, I thought they looked like sperm; we didn't fall out.

Teddy, now a teenager, is usually to be found in his bedroom doing what teenager boys do best (don't ask me).  Just before Christmas, I walked in unannounced and he quickly hid something behind his back and went bright red. Alarm bells rang and I suspected the worst, especially when I glimpsed the glue stick.
The next day he came down with a present he'd wrapped for me, he couldn't find the sellotape so he'd tried to use Pritt Stick bless him.
Today's motto; always look for the best in people without presuming the worst, whatever they vote and whatever they are doing with the glue.

My blog wouldn't be the same without a Daniel-ism and he never disappoints, especially on the football pitch.  Playing in goal the other day, his manager shouted and gestured for him to use his hands and pick up the approaching ball up.
Not hearing properly, he misinterpreted the coach's gesticulations and, complete with actions, shouted, 'what do you mean, jazz hands?!'