101/1001 (Week 137)

The last time I updated you about this challenge was in May.  If I don’t want to write a post five pages long in 41 days’ time, I’d better update you on my progress now.*

*Short break while I update the 101/1001 Page*

*Long break while I updated the 101/1001 Page

There’s rather a lot to tell, so I won’t bother with it all today.  I will just share some of Task 15:

Expose myself to twenty new experiences (14/20)

1. I tried a gin and tonic.

Writer’s Block 1 (Photo credit: NathanGunter) After one G&T, I’m guessing

It was offered to me at, of all things, a church luncheon, by one of the wardens.  We were in her home and she found it at the back of the fridge, I hasten to add – she doesn’t keep it stashed under the cassocks for emergencies.  

I don’t think.

I had never drunk gin before.  And I never will again.  Foul stuff.

One thing in its favour, however, is that it gave me the courage for new experience number

2. Said, ‘I am a writer.’

The idea of the church monthly bring & share lunch is that people get to know each other.   One way of getting to know each other is by asking questions about each other.*

*Based on this paragraph, I think saying, ‘I am a writer’ may be a disservice to writers everywhere, at the very least; and an outrageous lie at best.

I asked an other what she did; she told me. For the purpose of our story, I won’t bore you with the details; you will have to be content with the boredom emitting from this long-winded paragraph instead.  The other then asked me what I did.  I opened my mouth to say, as I have done for the past twenty-three years, ‘I am a housewife,’  but what came out was, ‘I am a writer.’

I’ve been published in many anthologies, hard copy and online; I’ve been placed in several writing competitions; I regularly critique others’ work, some of which has been published; I have been posting on this blog for three and a half years; I am a member of poetry group Write Out Loud;  I give poetry readings; I run occasional writing workshops (even more occasionally, people turn up for them, but my writing flesh is at least willing even if their spirit is weak); I am a founder member and de facto manager of Stockport Writers.

I think it’s okay now to say, ‘I am a writer.’

Besides, I’ve never earned money from it: writing credentials don’t come any better than that.

Fresh (and flushed) from that triumph, I followed it up with

I am a writer. (Photo credit: DavidTurnbull)

3. When asked my occupation on an official form, I wrote, ‘Writer’.

I still blush at my temerity. It’s one thing to say it with your mouth; something else altogether to say it with a pen.

At that same church lunch (who knew these events were so exciting?) I also

4. Drank ginger beer for the first time.

But not lashings of it, Famous Five fans!

It was…okay. I didn’t taste ginger and I didn’t taste beer, but it washed away the taste of gin and tonic, so that’s a big thumbs-up from me.

Virgin Trains First Class (Photo credit: David McKelvey)

5. Travelled First Class

My London adventure refers.

It was on a train, not a plane, but I’ll take my free inedible sandwich where I can get it, thank you very much.

6. Went to a university Open Day

We never did it with Tory Boy because he spent a week or two at Lancaster the summer after his GCSEs and knew that Lancaster was where he wanted to go. I always felt a bit cheated, but the second son made up for his brother’s defect by dragging me to Sheffield a couple of weeks ago, as I told you.

There you have it!  These six things I had never done before bring me up to 20/20 new experiences, but that’s not quite it.  

However, this post is already too long for a Friday afternoon, so you’ll have to wait for the rest.

Joke 960

Drinking on the Job (Photo credit: Lulu Hoeller)

A man goes into a pub, takes a seat at the bar, and orders five shots. The bartender gives him an odd look since he’s all by himself, but he serves up the five shots and lines them up on the bar.

The man downs them all quickly. He finishes the last one and calls out, “Four shots, please!” The bartender serves up four shots and lines them on the bar.

The man downs them all. Then he belches loudly, sways slightly on the stool, and orders three. And one after the other, he knocks them back.

“Two shots!” he calls, and the bartender places two shots in front of him. Down they go. As the man slams the last one down on the bar, he says, “One shot bartender.” So the bartender fills the glass.

The man sits there, staring at it for a moment, trying to focus. Then he looks at the barman and says, “You know, it’s a funny thing, but the less I drink, the drunker I get.”