Phallic Frigg Day and the Rise of the Power Tools

It’s Friday and on Friday mornings I receive digital copies of ‘Building‘ and Estates Gazette magazines. I usually post the issue covers on MEROVEE because they sync so much, but with the overflowing comments, the latest page has become difficult to load…

So for the Meroveeps, or Mirror VIPs, here’s what’s…

Building cover 131115

Ding Dong, Clicky! What does the little Gazette (‘e states *rolls eyes*) have to say?

Estates Gazette cover 141115

Kinda black and white, Clicky. I wonder what it means…

Etymologyonline is a fantastic resource if words grab your inner rest…

property (n.) c. 1300, properte, “nature, quality,” later“possession, thing owned” (early 14c., a sense rare before 17c.), from an Anglo-French modification of Old French propriete“individuality, peculiarity; property” (12c., Modern French propreté; see propriety), from Latin proprietatem (nominative proprietas) “ownership, a property, propriety, quality,” literally “special character” (a loan-translation of Greek idioma), noun of quality from proprius “one’s own, special” (see proper). For “possessions, private property” Middle English sometimes used proper goods. Hot property“sensation, a success” is from 1947 in “Billboard” stories.

If you clicked on ‘property’ EOL you’ll see four pages of listings where the word is used. These can be fascinating – both ‘black’ and ‘white’ via ‘bleach’ are Shining words, revealed to me whilst looking for hidden things in ‘The Shining’

Look down the first page for ‘Property’ and you’ll find ‘waif’…

waif (n.) late 14c., “unclaimed property, flotsam, stray animal,” from Anglo-French waif (13c., Old French guaif) “ownerless property, something lost;” as an adjective, “not claimed, outcast, abandoned,” probably from a Scandinavian source akin to Old Norse veif “waving thing, flag,” from Proto-Germanic *waif-, from PIE *weip- “to turn, vacillate, tremble ecstatically” (see vibrate). Compare Medieval Latin waivium “thing thrown away by a thief in flight.” A Scottish/northern English parallel form was wavenger (late 15c.).

Meaning “person (especially a child) without home or friends” first attested 1784, from legal phrase waif and stray (1620s), from the adjective in the sense “lost, strayed, homeless.” Neglected children being uncommonly thin, the word tended toward this sense. Connotations of “fashionable, small, slender woman” began 1991 with application to childishly slim supermodels such as Kate Moss.

Look again at the ‘Building’ cover *scrolls up* and find the waving flag…

Wow, Clicky… Big Ben, flag and Kate Moss…

Anyway, it was whilst I was taking digital snapshots of the magazine covers, when the fire alarm suddenly screamed into life. A drill – just enough time to grab cigs, phone, hat and coat before being ushered down the spiraling fire escape by orange fluorescent wardens.

Too wet and windy to smoke during roll call, so I waited until everyone else sprinted for the lifts and settled my back into a covered corner to smoke and read. “Yippee!” there was a new post from The Slog to think about…

Now if you add all this mayhem up, you could be forgiven for concluding that the two government institutions Britain should steer completely clear of are The United States of America, and the European Union. And if you then look at their disgraceful citizen rights record and parlous econo-fiscal positions, you’d probably add Saudi Arabia, Turkey and China to that list. So it does say quite a lot about the judgement of the so-called British élite that they continue to laud the Special Relationship with the US, are desperate to stay in the rapidly collapsing EU bed, like nothing better than selling arms to the Saudis, have hired Beijing to oversee our nuclear power development, and toddle off to Ankara at regular intervals in order to praise Recep Erdogan to the Heavens.

Not just power, Johnthought I, quite a bit of London.”

Oh we just have to waif until… TY, Clicky 😉 Have a Song…

 

 

Deep and Crisp and Even

Twitter buddy Mhehed Zherting sent me a Direct Message last night. “My 15 seconds of fame”.

HLNMGkXM

In the Wail, no less and flagged up on Twitter. Mhehed, always on his toes, had spotted and responded to some first-class fucktwattery on Twitter – a Politically Correct McNanny calling out a non-descript supermarket for stocking a

McNanny's irresponsible tweet

“They make Gin & Tonic flavoured crisps?!” I replied in wonder, fingers clicking. I’ve never even tasted a G&T in my life, but I had a sudden urge to try it now, and in crisp form. As luck would have it, there’s an Aldi store right next to The Office. I thanked Mhehed and told him I’d check them out and get back to him.

“Have a good day at work tomorrow. Don’t get drunk on Aldi’s crisps. CYL”. He’s so sweet, my twinkle toes, Mhehed.

This morning I forewent my smoke break in order to hunt down the irresponsible crisps. And as I stood forlornly in front of the meager selection of potato snacks at local Aldi. I was wishing I’d just gone for a fag instead.

“Psst.” A short chap with more hair on his chin than on his head approached me from behind. “Are you looking for the Gin & Tonic crisps?” He subtly shifted a frozen meat feast pizza on the top of his basket to reveal three packets of the sought after (and probably soon to be banned) snack.

“Yes! Where can I find them?” Elation, closely followed by the Second Thought: are those the only packets, and could I persuade him to share? “Are those the last ones?”. I noticed his substantial wife nearby clean and jerking boxes of lager into a trolley and decided not to risk a lip tremble.

He didn’t give me his crisps. “I’ll show you,” he said instead. So off we sidled to the center aisle, to a huge wire basket housing ‘Gourmet, Hand-Cooked’ crisps. But the only flavour it offered was ‘Camembert and Caramelised Onion’. They looked nice; I decided to get a packet of those, but they weren’t what I came in for. I rummaged through the top layers, coming up empty. Was I to be thwarted after all?

Again, my helpful stranger decided to assist and delved head first in for me. He eventually surfaced, after much waggling of feet, with an elusive packet of Gin & Tonic crisps clasped in his hand. Success! I thanked him, shook his hand and asked him his name.

“Steve”. Ah, another Thoughtful Man.

Okay, I did have a cigarette before I returned to The Office. But I never take a lunch break anyway.

Once back, I decided to find out if these potentially dangerous crisps really do taste like gin and tonic, and whether they have an intoxicating effect. If these were as harmful as PC McNanny was suggesting they could be in her tweet, I had better canvas some adult opinion. So that I could responsibly take what was left home to my house, containing two impressionable teenage boys, with hollow legs.

I decided to draw up some questions, set out two bowls and put out a plea for help from my Office co-workers…

Crisp challenge

Free food usually grabs their attention 😉

I was fairly certain that cheese and onion (caramelised or not) wouldn’t get anyone drunk, so they would be sampled, too. And a cheese and onion crisp might soak up any alcohol if the first G&T sample proved too potent.

Four questions per bowl were asked;

  1. Like?
  2. Dislike?
  3. Taste exactly like?
  4. Do you feel drunk?

For half and hour or so, my usually quiet side of the Office filled with the noise of crunching, munching and considered opinions. Not only desk jockeys; the workmen renovating our toilets chipped in with their valued opinions also. In all, 29 people on the third floor of the building were surveyed, and spent the rest of the afternoon picking their teeth. The results, below, include 3 more – Thoughtful Man, Lupus and Kitler:

  • 32 people tried the Gin &Tonic (G&T) crisps (30 adults, 2 children)
  • 30 people tried the Camembert & Caramelised Onion (C&CO) crisps (28 adults, 2 children – the veggie declined because they didn’t meet her dietary requirements, and another because he was meeting clients later and didn’t want his breath to smell.)
  • G&T Like: 15
  • G&T Dislike: 11
  • G&T Neither like or dislike: 6
  • C&CO Like: 20
  • C&CO Dislike: 7
  • C&CO Neither like or dislike: 3
  • Tasted like G&T: 32 No (suggestions included:- lime (10), lemon (8), citrus (2) tonic (2), tonic & lime (1), spirit (2), sugar (1), cardboard (1), nothing (2))
  • Tasted like C&CO: 14 Yes and 16 No (suggestions included:- onion (5), cheese (7), Quavers (3), foot (1))
  • Do you feel drunk on G&T?: 32 No
  • Do you feel drunk on C&CO?: 32 No (including two “Mum!”)

Make of it all what you will. It’s what the Experts do 😉

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Clicky, I need a Song… oh, you’ve already got it.

Halo! WE’s A Coming… And WE Are Smoking!

So *lights up* my current favourite theory is that God, who made everything, apparently, is a big fan of cosplay

Literally “Costume Play.” Dressing up and pretending to be a fictional character (usually a sci-fi, comic book, or anime character).
There are anime cosplay conventions around the world.
by Mario Rogic January 15, 2003

15th of January was Mum’s birthday. On that date in 2003 she turned 58. She’s dead now; now I’m the elder mother in the family.

costume (n.) 1715, “style of dress,” an art term, from French costume (17c.), from Italian costume “fashion, habit,” from Latin consuetudinem (nominative consuetudo) “custom, habit, usage.” Essentially the same word as custom but arriving by a different etymology. From “customary clothes of the particular period in which the scene is laid,” meaning broadened by 1818 to “any defined mode of dress.” Costume jewelry is first attested 1933.

OMG, Clicky! How can you be bored with language? And English is the language of angles. Let’s carry on, shall we? If you can be bothered to, Click.

custom (n.) c. 1200, “habitual practice,” from Old French costume “custom, habit, practice; clothes, dress” (12c., Modern French coutume), from Vulgar Latin *consuetumen, from Latin consuetudinem (nominative consuetudo) “habit, usage, way, practice, tradition, familiarity,” from consuetus, past participle of consuescere “accustom,” from com-, intensive prefix (see com-), + suescere “become used to, accustom oneself,” related to sui, genitive of suus “oneself,” from PIE *swe- “oneself” (see idiom). Replaced Old English þeaw. Sense of a “regular” toll or tax on goods is early 14c. The native word here is toll.

Click. Tell me about it… 😉

play (v.)Old English plegan, plegian“move rapidly, occupy or busy oneself, exercise; frolic; make sport of, mock; perform music,” from West Germanic *plegan “occupy oneself about” (cognates: Old Saxon plegan “vouch for, take charge of,” Old Frisian plega “tend to,” Middle Dutch pleyen “to rejoice, be glad,” German pflegen “take care of, cultivate”), from PIE root *dlegh-“to engage oneself,” forming words in Celtic, Germanic, Slavic, and possibly Latin.
Meaning “to take part in a game” is from c. 1200. Opposed to work (v.) since late 14c. Related: Played; playing. To play up “emphasize” is from 1909; to play down “minimize” is from 1930; to play along“cooperate” is from 1929. To play with oneself “masturbate” is from 1896; play for keeps is from 1861, originally of marbles or other children’s games with tokens. To play second fiddle in the figurative sense is from 1809 (“Gil Blas”). To play into the hands (of someone) is from 1705. To play the _______ card is attested from 1886; to play fair is from mid-15c. To play (something) safe is from 1911; to play favorites is attested from 1902. For play the field see field (n.).

Please, Clicky, for the love of god, no..!!

Phew! That could have been sooo much worse…

*flicks lighter* At the beginning of the month, 3rd October to be exact, I wrote an email to MJ, my online friend who lives in Tennessee, US of A:

Mary Jo, I like the title, I want to use it for a post at the LoL – I will quote some of this email, just so’s you know 😉 It’s how WE get to write the script 😉 …Vik’s ‘crack the code’ *shakes head*. And it’s all true – this is an after thought, another level… Clicky!
Now MJ, what do you and Charlie have cooked up, costume-wise for this Halloween? The boys did costumes once for a Halloween party that some woman at work threw. It was horrendous. The less said, the better. If I wrote a post about it for the LoL, it would be called ‘A Freakishly Boring Night Out’.

IMG_1514

We don’t do Halloween, so wishing to live vicariouslyMJ, you are my only hope!

I love your Charlie photo updates – he’s a gorgeous child and you are a gorgeous mum. You’re just the sort of mum I never was to my boys. I made a decision, you see, to treat them exactly the same. Very noble of me 😉
As it happens, they are complete opposites to each other and have very different interests, and to split my time and energy in half… no, there’s Steve and WORK (a huge amount of my time is spent there)… to give equally, I just let them get on with their own play. Mostly I did homework with them or painting. Costumes were for school trips & photos and mostly shop bought. Cheap and cheerful and the boys weren’t really that interested in them anyway. Now if it was Star Wars school trips…
Kit Bisto
Also, Halloween is not that big of deal in the UK and the night itself is celebrated more by adult- kids than children-children. Well, where I live anyway. And Steve will tell me all about that when he gets home from driving them about that night 😉
So spill, I want to enjoy knowing what I didn’t get or choose for in my life… a proper Mother and Child run up to Halloween… 😉

*deep draw* A nice woman, MJ, she replied straightaway. Now how long would it have taken, to correspond with your overseas girlfriend, in days of yawn ?

Roobee! So good to hear from you! About to run some errands so this won’t be as long as it should be.  Charlie is going to be
and I’m going to be

But we probably won’t look just like that. We will probably look more like

😀 😀 😀 😀
It doesn’t mean we aren’t “super” though!

Oh Clicky! You shouldn’t hide stuff behind MJ’s illustrations. I know you do it to mine, but did you ask her? …*tumbleweed*… No, I didn’t think so *tut*

Then *flick, flick, shakes flick* then today, 30th October, I arrive at my place of work, with a Song playing in my head, to find it’s Dress Down Friday. Goo goo g’joob I’d forgotten… nobody needs to see me in my jimjams… except maybe for me and I really don’t think that’s what Management intended.

I took off my hat and coat, fired up my PC (no resemblance to The Flash in that piece of hardware, believe me) and ventured into the kitchen to make myself a cuppa joe.

Now I must tell you, we’re getting new toilets at work, so all kinds of doors that are normally held open have been allowed to close. To cut down on the noise and the dust, from the men at work.

On returning to my desk I had to turn the handle of a door that I never normally have to touch. As I pushed it open, more concerned with whether I’d forgotten to add sugar (again), I was surprised by the looming presence of another, on the other stood of the door. I look up and to my utter astonishment, there stood… MJ!

FullSizeRender

Okay not Tennessee MJ, Clicky, but a woman who looked so like her I just stood there staring…

COLON CAPITAL O

I told you, Click, I’d forgotten it was Dress Down Friday *rolls eyes*

*Exhales plume* Who’d of thought? I had the title of this post weeks ago; I had no idea what kind of shambles it would make. The whole idea of ‘Selfie Sounds Like Sophie’ on Sync Miss For Him was to develop a long exposure selfie of the goddess, in an ‘as below, so above’ amateur experiment.

On Merovee, the site of MJ/Isis’ love Frank/Osiris, ‘WE’ is major meme. Shambles are magical things and I’d managed to conjure a goddess 😉

In honour of that fact, I decided to do something I’ve never actually done before, unless you count capturing the odd stray hand or foot in the odd photos I taken. I took my very first selfie. And I took it in what our office new ladies loos is going to look like, courtesy of the 2nd floor, which has already been renovated…

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LOL! A ‘now you see me, now you don’t’ sort of thing, Click? Blimey that’s a grey tongue – must be all the smoking. Or it could be that the manufacturers have missed a trick 😉 Maybe I should tell them…

Why? Y knot, Clicky? ‘Cos play’s the thing *wink*

The_Play's_the_Thing

Have a happy Halloween everybody and… Do, please Doo have a Song 😉

*stubs out butt*

Wednesday Morning Music Works

I have been doing other things. Different things. So I haven’t visited the LoL much in recent days…

Okay then, Clicky, over a week.

And I confess my lack of shambling was playing on my mind when I jumped into Thoughtful Man’s van for the journey to work this morning. This is the route we normally take…

route to work

We like to go via the seafront because it’s a much pleasanter drive than negotiating the traffic and barmy light system through the centre of town. The accompanying music was selected randomly by Thoughful Man, from a CD he’d made himself for the previous weekend’s shifts.

“Thank fuck!” I thought, as he started pressing buttons. Local radio is utterly banal, full of unreasonably chirpy presenters, repetitive traffic updates and government sponsored ads intent on telling us how we should live.

Point A – Song No.1: Rock DJ by Robbie Williams

Shambles

1. (Informal) a state of total disorder. “my career was in a shambles

2. a butcher’s slaughterhouse (archaic except in place names): “the shambles where the animals were slaughtered”
Rock DJ Meat Market 1
3. A shamble (also called a shambles) is a handmade device used by witches to detect or amplify magic. It can even be used for protection or to send a spell.

Discworld, Clicky, yes and its inhabitants riding it. I hadn’t talked to him about those thoughts at all – how did he know?

“I’ll post a shambles tonight.” I decided, as I bobbed my head in time to the music. But where? Here, at the LoL, or on Sync Miss For Him?

Point B – Song No.2: The Look of Love by ABC

Look of Love… Library of Libraries… LOL. I had my answer 😉 Not only that, but Hugo brought up Lexicon on the latest Merovee post, just a few hours earlier…

Merovee Hugo brings up Lexicon

Lexi tells her parents she’s wise to the con and the ABC album housing the song. The journey had been smooth and I enjoyed singing along. That’s probably why Thoughtful Man decided the dial should be spun.

Point C – Song No.3: You Spin Me Round by Dead or Alive

You Spin Me Right Round Cross

Cross, Clicky? Not at Thoughtful Man; he has an aversion to listening to a song all the way through. I don’t think it’s just my singing 😉 But lots of things do make me cross these days.

Which brings us to…

Point D – Song No.4 – Something About You by Level 42

You betcha, Clicky! We were still Kinging it as we pulled up outside Point E 😀

Heigh Ho Clicky! Have a Song…

The Sons Have Got Her Hat On…

It fell out of the wardrobe, whilst we were looking for something else.

Dusty Hat

My wedding Hat, Clicky. Just look at the state of it…

It didn’t go back into the wardrobe straightaway, oh no… Loopy Lou thought he might straighten it out for me…

Captain Loopy

He’s such a contented child, Click…

Then Kit-Kat-Paddy-Whack got hold of it…

Doctor Who Nose

Who knows, Clicky. Who knows…

Now I come to think it it, the song at No.1 when Thought Man and I got married was…

Indeed, Clicky, indeed 😉

Tales of the Logistician’s Logistician: The Joy of Abseiling

At the start of the 21st century the company I work for decided to participate in a ‘Business Team Challenge’ competition being held in the Brecon Beacons. There were changes in personnel right up until the day before the team set off for Wales, due to ‘injuries’ and ‘work pressures’.  Nevertheless, the final line up contained a Big Boss, a Medium-sized Boss, a Little Boss and two lowly assistants, one of which was me. A delicate balance of bosses and staff had been achieved – three men and two women accordingly.

My job throughout was to ‘make it happen’, which in practice meant completing entry forms, booking accommodation, arrange transportation and triple-check timings, sourcing and purchase appropriate (matching) clothing, footwear, kit and equipment. And all the while, the personnel (and vital statistics) of the team kept changing.

I had to be there, of course, because I’d organised the team. But in truth, not being of an outdoorsy persuasion, I couldn’t think of a worse way to spend my weekend: it was bound to rain, I had never had to use a map and compass before and it was in Wales, for goodness sake! Wasn’t that bad enough?. I had to put my foot down somewhere along the line, and my fear of heights gave me the perfect opportunity; I said that I did not want to abseil. In turn I was promised I wouldn’t have to.

It was all going so well until the first afternoon when Medium-sized Boss twisted his ankle on a slippery slope, during a torrential downpour.

“There is no one else; you’ll have to do it”, I was told by Big Boss as he trotted on ahead, leaving me to trudge behind him to the edge of a chasm. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t; it’s difficult to speak coherently when your mouth is devoid of spit.

Three of us were to take the plunge for the honour of our company. Medium-sized Boss sat at the base of the drop, somewhere, cradling his ankle and smoking a cigarette, along with Little Boss, who had helped him hobble into position.  It was difficult to see exactly where they were positioned as my eyes had suddenly gone all blurry. Horror filled me, as the crowd of lemmings gradually thinned at the top of the drop.

Then there were three… Big Boss disappeared over the edge… two… Admin Girl followed… one…. The few remaining eyes on my level turned in my direction.

“I can’t do it…”I repeated like a scratched record, as I was gently coaxed and manoeuvred into position, clips clicked into place and a fat rope placed in my hands. The moment the soles of my walking boots started to shift from horizontal to vertical, I completely froze.

Except for my eyes – they raced upwards, away from certain death. Realising there was no escape, they slowly rolled back down to meet the gaze of the woman holding my rope. “You can do it”, she said gently, pushing me over the edge.

The journey down was far too short. In fact it was a complete blast!

“Can I do it again?” I squealed with delight, hopping from foot to foot, whilst Big Boss struggled to unhook me.

“No, we’ve got a hike to the next task. Well done.” And off he went.

Little and Medium-sized Boss, though, both hugged me tight and told me how brilliant I’d been to do it.  Medium-sized Boss carried on hugging and thanking me for helping him out… right up until the moment I realised we’d covered half the distance to the next stage of the competition.

He let me go and then the laughter started.  But the loudest laugh came from me.

Raiders of the Lost Art

John Ward wrote an excellent article at The Slog today

‘The ineffectiveness of Raid ‘ONE-SHOT’ against house flies looks like the result of two things: alarmist medical research about fly sprays; and a less than honest marketing policy by SC Johnson, the producers of the brand. The Slog investigates, and concludes we may have proliferated the house fly population by the use of a spectacular own-goal.’

John Ward speaks

Oh Clicky, my comment is still in moderation from earlier this morning…

roobee replies to john

‘Because, John, because smoking kills everyone; everybody knows that! So why look for anything else?

Here’s a complete nut on the subject of tobacco smoke…

http://somuchfabric.blogspot.co.uk/2009/11/cigarette-smoke.html

Tobacco bans and it’s ever so useful Template, utilised to eliminate the practice of smoking tobacco throughout in the world. was, IMHO, the thin end of the wedge…

Welcome to the thick end…

“But… but… but…”

Nice choice of pix, Click, here have a Song…

I’ve asked for it to be released; I have no idea why it’s still trapped in moderation, Clicky…

Hardly, Click and, to be honest, I thought an indie would be better than that… 

Well, quite!