spreadsheets…my day is all about spreadsheets, and numbers…
Clocks, hope the shoulder mends soon…
Amused about the Corbyn name thing… Some of them were in the same Shropshire village as my White and Dalloway ancestors in 17C.
Those are lovely wellies, inty!
Hey Emms, no, it was in the UK – Camber Sands, as it happens, I remember that. Don’t remember much else, I have to admit, except “it was alright I s’pose”.
Nuits, those are medieval shoes! It brings Tarantino to mind 🙂
One has to step carefully in them medieval footwears I am guessing.
The odd thing: login seems to be playing up ‘ere. Something played up. It’s odd when things start playing up after seamlessly working for months.
One finds oneself on a loop thinking “Eh? It’s playing up. Log in. What? Which login? Oh. Ah, it’s playing up again. Eh ?” – I’m confused, but that doesn’t take much, so I don’t mind.
Eh? Login is playing up. Now, log in. What ? And so on 🙂
Time for tea.
…and comfy nuits, I put my Dr. Scholl’s foot pads in them, also they were only $15!
There’s something spiritually lacking on this site so can i suggest all Chundies watch the following short vid about a group of women who spend more time than most on their kness.
Paul when I was at a convent school in the UK, the aromas coming from the nuns’ dining hall were mouthwatering.
We schoolgirls had to make do with greasy mince floating on hot water, powdered mash (might have been the last of WWII surplus for all I know) and carrots or cabbage. Followed by either sponge pudding or spotted dick.
I can’t believe children get chips in school nowadays – we would have kidnapped our headmistress for a plate of chips.
And another short vid about an order of religious women who do good work in their communities and who also may spend a certain amount of time on their knees.
Apparently the Sisters Of The Perpetual Indulgence are one of the fastest growing religious orders for women in the world.
Hey all, I discovered what is the reason for the login playin’ up saga there.
I deleted all past passwords login things – I’ve no idea how this works, ‘cos I never do this. It was a random accidental keystroke.
I do remember, when shuffling through some windows a little while ago, being surprised, like the proverbial rabbit in the headlights, or the cos in the field seeing the sun rise, by a white dialogue box appearing.
I didn’t see what was in this dialogue box because, like the sunrise surprising them cows (or sheep, the principle is the same – not goats, they’re smart), like the sunrise, as I meant to say, the white dialogue box flashed in and out of existene since I was randomly shuffling things and presumably hit enter or clicked “OK” uncontrollably.
The result of all that is that once the white box did it’s magical appearance and vanishing act, this here CIF login didn’t work. When I type “cif” in the location box, it no longer appears.
Mystifyingly, however, the untrusted does instead. This too is odd.
I best call it a day on this comment, it’s growing like – how now, sleeps, none of your carry on there 🙂
I’ve had an aversion to puddings ever since – hence my love of fresh fruit and with that I shall now prepare my evening treat of strawberries with a tub of yoghurt thrown over them. (Love the berry season).
Have a good evening all.
My primary school had Sisters Of Mercy working in it who in the case of the head was anything but merciful.
As for the food they served there i’m still traumatised by the memory.Spam fritters and ,prunes in lumpy custard for instance.Any child who couldn’t eat their school dinnner was emotionally blackmailed with stories about starving children in Africa.
Once in a blue moon they did serve something tasty.Have fond memories of the cornflake syrup tart..And xmas dinnerswere always nice.But for most of the time the food was in varying degrees of awful.
Hello Bru !
My existential odyssey is continuing: Now my avatar has changed from my fetching picture there in the sunshine with cypress tree, to a blue thing.
I’ve checked gravatar. Ok. I’ve signed in and out. ok. Still blue.
I’m feeling blue !
*dum dum, dum dum, dumdum, doo dum*
My woman done lef’ me, and I’ve gone blue
*dum dum, dum dum, dumdum, doo dum*
On this hot hot porch, *dum dum…* my blues inspiration only runs so far.
I’d like to play blues a whole lot more, I can only repeat the same thing on a loop, and I get tired of it. A mate of mine who plays well say “that’s your problem right there. You should never get bored of playing the same thing in a loop. You have to love that, to play the blues with soul”
Not sure if he said “with soul”, because that would be confusing 🙂
Anyway, I done gone mess up my image there, and hope Bill, the mage or druid of the internet electronic computer network web will sort it out 🙂
(Biiiilll ? Why doesn’t it work ???)
Haddock,lumpy potato and mushy peas on friday.:-(
Sadly there was no Childline when i was at primary school.
The other day I mentioned I was looking for an electronic typewriter to save my wrist.
Guess what I found in the charity shop today?
Guess how much.
Guwon guwon guwon …
Fridays are still fish days at school but now it’s usually fish fingers.
The mash is very watery and not a single m*shy p*a in sight.
I think I might have found an online printable manual for it too.*
*Not the fish fingers, the typewriter.
Off to have a play with it.*
It works n everything!
*Not the m*shy p*as
When I were a lass, t’ mash were served in scoops ‘n’ could be used as a weapon.
Approved: Comment by James @9:41
Not sure whether the mash still comes in scoops.
I shall put on my investigating hat.
If you haven’t seen the Graun’s thread on Singhsbury’s, well worth a read BTL.
“While on the topic of Tyneside shop names, I still miss the animal foodstuffs retailer in Brunton Park which was called Y.I. Pet.”
“Students of Bristol will be familiar with the Jason Donervan.”
Reallies offskis nowskises.
Well, that threw me.
Sleeps, they paid you 80p to take it away?
Nice footwear ladees.
v. cool shoes Nuits.
Hipsters would kill for that typewriter Sleeps. You actually do see them in coffee shops with typewriters, it’s not something the Graun has made up.
Piece in the independent on NHS cuts.
“so far details of two local cuts plans have been leaked by whistleblowers.
In Cheshire, the proposals include a 25 per cent reduction in endoscopies, reducing the number of prescriptions given out across the area, and a £900,000 cut to mental health treatment.
Macmillan Cancer Support said the plan was “incredibly worrying for cancer patients”.
Spiffy electric typewriter. A fellow-ASD person I knew at university used to throw his at the wall when he was having a meltdown, though, and then wonder why it wasn’t working properly afterwards…
Shoes were expensive even in sale, but I thought, “What the hell…”
Paul: my Mum and siblings were at a nun-run school for a time. One of my aunts – a sparky and hyperactive little girl – developed a real hatred of the nuns and their ways… (The rattle of their rosary beads as they stalked the corridors apparently filled her with dread.) The headmistress was a rather posh Irishwoman called Mother Mary Michael (they were all renamed Mary-something), and was, I discovered, a long-term pal of Tolkien, who had got to know her when he was in Hull and environs in WW1.
The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence wear some fabulous habits!
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