Contaminated
I've been knackered this week. Weighed down by work and the weary bit that isn't work. Grabbed some chips from the chip shop last night after picking up son then picking up partner. I find chips comforting. I had them with a frozen pizza and an organic tomato in a half arsed effort to convince myself it was a balanced meal. I made bacon for the son. He eats meat - but I don't. I've become used to making it. I told him seven or eight times to eat with his fork and not his fingers - seething inside that his mother doesn't make him do that and that I have to re-teach him this habit every friday.
"Thats why I tell you to use his fork", I yelled with menace as he wiped chip and bacon fat through his hair.
He ate all the bacon then did his mournful look at me saying
"There are a lot of chips..."
"You don't have to eat them all" I said - having polished off mine and still feeling a lack of something. "I'll have them".
As I swallowed the first chip I tasted a taste unfamiliar to my mouth but well known to my nose. I had forgotten that he had had bacon on the plate. I felt sick. For hours I couldn't get the taste of bacon out of my mouth. I ate fruit, chocolate drank coffee, cleaned my teeth. I thought I was going to throw up. I last ate meat on 14th February 1985 and even then my jewish upbringing had meant that bacon was not part of my diet.
I never imagined it would have been such a big deal.

Neighbourhood Watch
I went to feed some cats today. They belong to some friends who have gone abroad for three weeks . (The sporran ones). They have an elaborate cat feeding rota with several people on it. I unlocked the mortice but when I turned the yale nothing happened. I repeated the action several times to no avail. I phoned my partner who had performed this task this morning but she had had no problem opening to door. I tried nudging it with my shoulder. As I was speaking to her a man called me from across the road. I thought he may have some helpful advice.
"Excuse me sir" he said "I need to ask you to stop pushing that door".
I walked over towards him.
"You know what I mean" he said, "In a neighbourhood like this you can't be too careful".
I explained that I was feeding the cat and having some problem getting the door open. He said he understood but if I persisted in pushing the door he would have to call the police. I went over and showed him the elaborate spreadsheet with names, dates, phone number and small biogs of cat feeders listing the numbers of cats they owned, cat feeding instructions and photos of the two cats in question.
He seemed convinved and suggested I called on a neighbour. I phoned another cat feeder and suggested the door was stiff and a well placed knee got it open.
I'm sure my friends will be pleased that a vigilant neighbour is on the look out for burglars who strike in broad daylight, with a set of keys and a well prepared cat feeding rota as a cover story.

Creative
"Can we get the argos catalogue?"
"Why you spent all your pocket money last week?"
"I've got some at mum's"
"OK then."
"These transformers look really cool - blah, blah, £20 - blah, blah - I could get that one - blah blah - what do you think dad?"
"I've told you before - I'm not that interested in hearing about what you want to buy....I'd rather hear about what you create."
"What do you mean?"
"You know - things you make...write or draw or make up"
"Well I've got these stories I've been making up for ages - would you like to hear about them?"
"Yes - that would be great.
"Well there's these aliens and they want to take over the universe from these baddies and blah, blah, daleks who are on the same side as the, blah blah - what do you think?
"Yeah - that's really great - tell me more"
"well the ninjas blah, blah plotting to kill all the blah, blah and the giant robot - thats me, blah, blah - do you see what I mean.
"Of course - I'm so glad you're so creative."

Stranger Than Fiction
"There's a call for you" she said, " I didn't quite get his name - I think he said he's somebody's husband".
"Put him on", I said.
I knew who it was. It wasn't the first time his name had been misheard on that phone - or many others. I didn't expect his call - as he was in another continent.
"How can I help you", I asked - cutting to the chase. I knew it wasn't a social call.
"I have a problem" he said. "I've left the sporrans at home."
Its not every day that a man with a broad accent calls you from another continent and asks you to go to his house to find two sporrans. I can't imagine that I'll ever again have to call an international courier company and get a quote for the transit of a pair of scottish purses to africa. The woman on the other and of the phone was more nonchalant than me and was able to estimate that a sporran weighed about a kilo - her partners' did. The chance of speaking to another person who knew someone with a sporran - let alone how much it weighed seemed wrong to me - but I pressed on.
My friend in africa seemed relatively unmoved when I revealed that it would cost him £80 to send him the cultural adornments he so desperately needed to perform his "best-manly" duties at his friends wedding. My partner and I speculated on whether or not there was a branch of "Sporrans "R" Us" or ""Sproz-U-Like" in Nairobi. I even stuck Nairobi and Sporran in Google to little avail.
I set off in the rain with my cat-feeding set of keys and at the door bumped into other cat-feeders. We discussed the sporran situation and wondered if a local could be paid less than £80 to slaughter a cow and make it into several sporrans and a pair of leather chaps for less than £80. I found the articles and left with them in my spar carrier bag to continue my adventure.

Organic
"You do know this is organic, don't you" said the man in the Spar as I counted out 49p for a pint of milk.
"Yes" I said "She makes me buy it...I don't think it makes much difference."
"Maybe its a bit nicer for the cows". He said.

Loaf

I saw this on the wall of the new bakers opened near me.

Return
My computer would like to anounce its return - fit and well. It has asked me to mark this event by touching my fingers on his keys and clicking its mouse.
I have obliged.

Diversity
I had a training session at the Create Centre today. Its a sort of Eco recycling type place which can be hired for training groups. I got there early, exhilerated from my bike ride, and sat listening to caretakers discussing their immament "Equality and Diversity Training".
"They keep sending us on these days" she said " I've done health and safety and lone working and now its this."
"Can I just sit here and you tell me what I miss" said he
"I'll give you a nudge if you fall asleep".
My colleagues arrived and I got irritated that it wasn't starting till ten - the flyer had said nine-thirty. I went to use the loo. There were posters every where announcing with pride that the toilets were flushed with rain water collected from the roof. This pleased me and for some reason. I watched carefully as it flushed. I somehow expected it to look different.

I'm not going to make any excuses but...
My computer broke and then it got fixed and I spent all my time on it uploading programmes and looking for discs that I can't find and then I realised that the DVD drive didn't work so I took it back to the world in which pc's exist and they did nothing with it for three days and I phoned the call centre every day and tried pressing different numbers to get through to the store and one day one of them said - I can give you the direct number of the store - and I didn't believe him and it's supposed to be ready today but I can't pick it up because I'm on training and I will take my bike to get exercise / sweaty...

Meanwhile....I have been using this old pc which sort of works but doesn't look or feel like the other one and it's interupted my routine...

and its not the same!