Last week, I set out to take part in a cyclethon which had all the promise of a thunderous event complete with disco lights, the hippest of DJs and an ongoing supply of energy drinks.
When I arrived, all I saw were a lot of empty bikes, women and men in tights waiting to mount, while crackling sound speakers and subdued lighting attempted to create an ambience.
With no less than eight beautiful loving dogs at home, and witnessing the birth of three perfect puppies, I am rather distressed to learn that the origin of the word ‘doggerel’ originates from a time when people thought dogs were less than honorary human beings.
Can you just image living in such a heartless age?
Last night while watching an excellent wildlife programme, I saw an antelope give birth, apparently a two-hour stint, to get the eager youngster out.
While I was engrossed in the final minutes, a friend called and took away my attention. She was complaining about her friend who talks the hind legs off a donkey. While doing that, she was guilty of the same offence – and I wanted to get back to ‘my’ antelope.
It’s all fair in love and war and friendship too.
I felt I was losing ground with a friend and that we would soon be going our own separate ways, so I asked her to do something for me which would require her to commit to making an effort in a very specific way.
A good friend told me this week – her ship had come in.
This means a change in luck, a sudden shower of good fortune or a great success.
When I heard this news, I was delighted for my friend, but also sceptical. So, I kept my distance and held off on the back-slapping and celebratory dancing.