Blogging, The Happy Medium

London (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Write up a mid-year “State of My Year” post.

Finally, a prompt I can take seriously!

My year has been great.  I’ve done lots of fun things, including several visits from people who I had never met before they arrived; but we all finished the visits as fast friends.  Though one finish couldn’t come fast enough, if you know what I mean…*

*I’m kidding.  Everyone was lovely; you know

London (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

I can’t resist the easy joke.

I’ve been to the theatre five times; eaten in restaurants at least four times – three of them in the space of a week.  I didn’t eat out three times in the previous three years but I made up for it in July.

I’ve had a fair few poems published this year. I finished editing my South African poem collection.  I gave a poetry recital and I’ve got two more planned for next month, as well as a workshop I’m going to run.  I’ve signed up for a local creative writing course in September.  I got my blogging addiction under control; so much so, I practically gave it up for a while, but now I’ve found a happy medium.

My boys are doing well.  Tory Boy enjoys his job; he’s coming home for ten days for my birthday (oh, and the Hub’s).  Spud was in three plays in six months and had the lead in two of them (I will never tire of boasting about that).  He had his first paid acting gig (a post will follow when he sends me some photos).

My husband really loves me.  So much, in fact, that he’s sending me away.   That’s where I am now, as you read this – in London with Spud.  Speaking of dead weight, I’ve lost over a stone.

My year so far is gooooooooooooooood.  Though I do miss Maltesers.

London Underground (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Is the glass half-full, or half-empty?

The glass is brimming over and making a mess on the table.

London underground (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Tell us about a time where everything you’d hoped would happen actually did.

My husband offered to send me away and then made sure he did.

Oh, sorry; I didn’t realise it was supposed to be about me.

A multi segment panoramic image of the London skyline from the Bermondsey banks of the Thames. Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When you gaze out your window — real or figurative — do you see the forest first, or the trees?

I see the tiny back gardens as I whizz past on the London Express.

So, not so much trees and forest as wet washing and cement.

Globe Theatre – London (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We each have many types of love relationships — parents, children, spouses, friends. And they’re not always with people; you may love an animal, or a place. Is there a single idea or definition that runs through all the varieties of “love”?

Unselfishness.

Thank you, darling Hub, for this trip; for making sure I have a special treat for a milestone birthday; for making my dream come true.  I love you.

So much so, I might be nice to you when I get home; if I’m not too tired or menopausal, that is…oh…wait…I see why I’m being sent away….

Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre (Photo credit: n_willsey)

 

Joke 868

Some jokes from So Much Pun, in honour of where I am going to be tomorrow.

And this one from Yahoo.

Because Shakespeare was so deeply absorbed during the writing of his tragedies, he put almost impossible strains on his bladder. To make matters worse, the tiny hooks and eyes that his tailor had placed on his pants slowed down the process considerably.  The playwright demanded that the tailor make larger hooks and eyes.

After a few days of trial, the Bard reported back, “Truly, ’tis speedier these larger hooks and eyes, but still and all, when I’m in a hurry, ’tis not quick enough.  I want you to redesign my trousers using leather ties.”

The tailor did exactly as he was told and Shakespeare jumped into the pants without delay.

Exactly one week later, however, the playwright was back at his door.

“Truly the leather straps are faster than those hooks and eyes, but even so ’tis still too slow.  I propose that you throw away the straps and just cut me a little hole.”

The tailor bounced to his feet.  “You ask for hooks, I give you hooks. You ask for straps, I give you straps. But holes? Holes! You of all people ought to know that . . . there’s no holes, Bard!”