Concerning BBQs...

I really get the urge to kick children sometimes. You know when they're being annoying, self-centred swine? When they cry, and beg, and actually steal shit. Yep, then I just want to pick them up by their soft, squidgy heads, and drop kick them into next week. Does anyone else get that? Or is it just me?...

Also, another thought passed me the other day, as two mobility scooters sped passed me, can I shout 'LYMPICS' at them as well? I know their not being healthy because let's face it, they're sat down, but you know, I just get the urge...

Okay, I'm starting to sound a little cray-cray, but who cares, I'm not harming anyone, or planning to. And also, half the things I say, are just my mouth taking over from my head. Which is why when I sometimes say 'Have a Nice Day' in my head, it comes out as 'Have a Nice GAH!_sd@!S"H'. My mouth syntax-error's my mind, and half the things I say, I know I should have stopped speaking or I didn't intend to say anything in the first place. I'm quite good on a one-to-one basis, but it just frustrates me sometimes. I suppose it reminds me of my stutter and pronunciation problems (Azerbaijan)...

Where am I going with this? Ah yes, concerning BBQs.

BBQs are strange and fantastical things, where you sit out in the outside, whatever the weather and do as you would normally do, except the cooking is done beside you, you're allowed to drink anything you like no matter the time of day and as long as it has ice in, and barefoot is okay attire. Could you imagine a BBQ in suits and dinner dresses?

It wasn't as warm as I had hoped, walking back from my daily commitments, but it was warm enough. I had found loads of food, and carried it home. Pill had sorted the BBQ stuff, cleaned it out and prepared, which was nice. And we waited for the others. He lit the fire, shortly after 7:30, and I got a text from Tag about 10mins after that saying that he had missed the train due to an Asian. We cooked on without them, and when they arrived the food was ready. Which is a nice change.

We sat and chatted, and laughed, and discussed our days, and it was nice. The usual, but the usual is usually nice. Red had been #sploring, Tag had been selling, and Pill had been passing on our country's secrets again. Food was pleasant, and quite cheap for the quality of the items (I collect the coupons), and I think a nice time was had. It is a pity that my garden has no grass, and it isn't very big either. And that makes me very jealous Cherry and Tag, very jealous indeed.

Red exclaimed that she was bored and that they should go, and go they went. It was late, about 11pm (late in this instance meaning that we had work in the morning and we don't intend on sleeping here).

We've got at least 3-4 days of activities to achieve as of Sunday, and it goes a little like this - Food Festival, IKEA, Birthday, Cinema (though I'm assuming cinema is a maybe). Perhaps we could holiday somewhere, Cornwall, Wodge Visiting, Castle Hide-n-Seek, St Fagans, #sploring? Who knows what we'll get up to, fingers crossed we wont end up at the Western or Nandos.

Carpe diem...

It's that time of Year again...

Most of my Uni room is now in boxes.

Yes indeedy, it's home-time again for us Studacious lot. Our accommodation payments run out, and the University sees fit to throw us out of their Halls for four months in order to aerate the rooms or something - so that we can just move back in come September. This long and arduous event happens once a year, and this one being my second year. So you'd think I'd be used to it by now.

It's a silly process - I take things from home, and supplant them into a host room from September until June. The problem was, the first time I did this, the room I was living in at home at the time was three-times larger than the room I returned to at the end of the year. It turns out that my advantage taking sibling of a younger brother saw fit to mark his territory in the house and claim the larger room while I was away. Something my darling Mother tried to cover up by saying: 'We're only decorating Ben's room (for that is his name) and he'll be staying in your room until the paint's dry.' Now what she should have said was - to put it most honestly and bluntly - and would have made the blow very much lessened - 'We've moved all your stuff into your brother's room, and all his stuff into yours. We don't care what you think because he's got less stuff than you. So when you get home we're going to put most of your stuff in the attic for four months until you go back 'Home'' (as my sister likes to call the place I stay when I'm not with them).

Nice, don't you think?

So yes, I was exiled to the end of the corridor, the box room, the room where my bed is the room, and when I sleep my head is against one wall and my feet are against the other. But it's alright, I get to be cramped again soon enough - come Saturday.

Though there is one other thing about being home that I enjoy, other than spending time with my family, and that's the Garden. I like our Garden, it's big, it's green, and on sunny days you can just sit there and not care about anything else. It's our own little piece of Eden. And it's where I grow my Pumpkins (I hope).

My Father recently - with the help of my brother and I - opened a veg patch on our lawn, much to Mother's disapproval. So here is where I had hoped to plant some of my delightful Pumpkins. But no, not yet it would seem. We have sweet peas, lettuces, carrots, cauliflowers, beans, etc. but no Pumpkins yet.

Okay, I know. I don't actually eat the Pumpkins, and the one's that do grow get turned into Jack'O'Lanterns - I just like the wild way in which they wind and grow. So I suppose, no wonder they've not got a place in the veg patch.

Oh God. I've just realised I've been talking about vegetables for far too long now.

Moving on...other things about being home that I enjoy, include: seeing friends...that is all. Is that really all? My family, my friends, the Garden? Are they the only factors of home I really do enjoy? Hmm, that's interesting - I don't know.

But that's me, until next time bloggers...

P.S. For future reference Cherrybelly answering my question is fine, but asking me the question I just asked you...could you think of something else please?

P.S.S. I want it to be known that in a movie of my life I would like the actor Damian Lewis to play me. Sure I'm not ginger or have a chiseled bod like him - but I'm sure we're made up of the same amount of cool, which for further notice shall now be called 'docious'. That is all.