Ludschurch

Broken, not lost. One day I'll seek you in the mystery of Ludschuch. 

Dear Cupid

Unavailable

"You really took something, as I cannot make a sound."

**

"There's a man on the corner selling dozens of bones.

Every type of bone, except the one that I want."

Arcane Roots and Biffy Clyro

Xx

Unexpected discovery

I was rummaging around the date site one evening - which appears to imply expectation - when, in fact, there was none.  My rummage was vague - like the hapless, one-handed sift through the bargain rail in a charity shop.  There is no hope of success but you look anyway. After a time my eyes fell upon something interesting…..no, it wasn't the one, it wasn't even the one-night-only. It was an advert for bridal wear.  I'll leave that there for a moment. Do not adjust your sets. I saw an advert for bridal wear on a dating site.

Whilst I appreciate that the dating site and the prospect of marriage should, theoretically, be loosely linked - in that dates ‘might’ lead to a relationship, relationship to marriage, marriage to divorce and so on - I fail to see how this could ever be an appropriately placed advert.  If you've ever used a dating site, you'll know that Mr Right is unlikely to be lurking behind the next click. In fact, unless you happen to have a penchant for bad grammar, dick pics and all manner of casual fuck-fuckery - the dating site will disappoint.

More to the point, why the heck would brides be hanging around a dating site in the first place. Surely the search has ended. Although, given the modern obsession with open relationships, I imagine brides all over the planet peering at dating profiles, just before they take the plunge into wedded abyss.  I can barely contain my amusement, as I picture them browsing the virtual shelves in the dating aisles and simultaneously planning their outfit for walking down the aisle.

Unless.....dramatic music please..... the advert is to encourage Bridget Jones' style imaginings. Dum dum de dum. Dum dum de dum. Nope. It couldn't be that. Could it? I suppose some ladies do get carried away with romantic expectations but even the most ardent of imagination would draw the line at planning the outfit before they'd met the person. 

Crazy theories aside, it seems to me that an advert for BDSM gear or software to prevent the significant other finding online dating dalliances, would be more suited to a dating site. These are bound to gain serious click through action.

On a positive note, I'm given to understand that people still meet, fall in love and unite in coupledom. I've even had one or two pleasant experiences myself. Overall though, the online / offline dating trajectory is a little fuzzy.  More importantly, the dating site: it's not for brides. With this in mind, I think adverts for bridal wear would be better placed elsewhere, like a parallel universe or something.

The RGF xx

Two soups?

Blog posts are like buses, absolutely sweet fack all for ages then two come along at once....or is that men? Hmmmm. No, it's definitely blog posts. It would appear that my creative flair has returned from annual leave, fully refreshed and ready to party.  I obviously don't need a muse. Or maybe I'm my own muse. I certainly amuse myself because I laugh at my own jokes all the time. Indeed, I'm often entirely alone in the hilarity of it all.

I've discovered that if one pretends to be some kind of master chef, scraping a million carrots, at 10pm, after working all day then being a super single mum - is actually quite good fun. Obviously this is a lie. Yet the chef fantasy did serve to take the edge off the domestic task. Moreover, and I actually do say this with excitement, carrot soup via the slow cooker will be enjoyed tomorrow evening.

I have just blogged about carrot soup preparation. I don't know whether to congratulate myself or run for cover.

Yours,

The Domestic Goddess ;-)

Xx

Perfect date

I was thinking about the perfect date. Prone to bouts of whimsy, as I am, a small part of me actually believes that a perfection is possible. In fact, I almost had a perfect date once but the protagonists wanted different things so this impairs perfection.

The perfect date goes something like this: two tickets purchased to watch Arcane Roots. A pre-gig curry. In many respects spices combined with oils is not the food of love but curry is my favourite thus it's a digestive risk worth taking. Plus, if you both have garlic, demonic breath isn't an issue.

The in-date conversation would be more free-flowing than skates over ice. Furthernore, the chemistry would reach dangerously high levels.  We would be switched on to the point of glowing. Waiters would have to wave and cough to gain our attention. In short, we'd be in the zone. Our zone. The perfect date zone.

There would be lashings of in-gig kissing and a plethora of furtive glances. We'd sway along on the musical vibrations. Enjoying each moment as it passed. We wouldn't want the first date to end. Arcane Roots would play their best gig ever. Even though their brilliance would be mere background to the majesty of the moment.

The gig endeth. The first date comes to a reluctant close, sometime during the following day. I'll leave the missing elements open to the imagination......

Yours

The RGF xx

A light

I was awaiting the train, as I often do on work days. Christmas had recently happened and 2017 would soon begin. Unfortunately, this day was one of the coldest of 2016.


You know that feeling, when your feet are so cold, the upright position is a challenge. I needed socks designed for artic conditions, but was ill-equipped with some which would have struggled to snuggle hairy hobbit feet. I may as well have gone barefoot. Obviously the train was delayed. In fact, I've never known it to arrive on time, yet this was a whole new level of tardiness. Despite my icey feet and the long long wait - I smiled inwardly. Doubtless, looking like l'd been chasing the dragon. People don't usually smile at themselves without chemical assistance. Yet I was not supported by toxic love. I was just happy because of music via recently purchased headphones.


Before motherhood, I always had music. Once my journeys included a small person, this stopped. One must be aware when travelling with children. Entering a wibbly wobbly world of banging bass lines is not wise when razor sharp observation skills are required. Plus you know, parent child interactions. Of course, I've made numerous journeys without my daughter for some time, yet neglected to buy much adored headphones.


Music is like switching on a light within. I often forget this until I press play, then, as the notes wash over me, my ears begin to orgasm. Furthermore, until I reacquainted myself with headphones, the miniscule gap between the self and the music was lost to me. A speaker close to the ear is rather like the sounds are coming from you rather than to you. Yes indeed, headphones in position, Grimes singing to my ear canal, I was Drusilla in Angel, when she exclaimed “I'm ringing”. Granted she was dancing to the ringing of a mobile phone, and is a fictional, mentally unstable vampire with a bloody awful Cockney accent but otherwise the comparison is entirely sound. Essentially, my headphones allow me to disconnect from the outer world and truly connected with myself.


Incredibly, I spent £7 in Argos and it changed my life. To homage ( should be) Sir Bill Bailey, it would seem that Argos really do posses a laminated book of dreams.


Yours,


The RGF xx