Lullabelle
Midlands, England
Bedtime, goodnight all
Bedtime, goodnight all
The thing I find that helps is finding someone more uncomfortable than myself. (Oh wait, they usually seek us out.)I don't get panicky but everything has its place and even when we were living out of a tent on bikes, everything went in a set place in each pannier, rack pack and bar bag. If I wanted something I knew exactly where it was and could easily get it in a few seconds. My OH on the other hand would be unpacking each and every bag until it was found even after 12 months on the road. Something I found and still do find, very hard to live with. I took to memorising where he put things when he was packing that day (usually by discretely watching him) I still do the same. Today he has his wedding ring with him (its not in the house, though this does not mean it isn't in a pocket somewhere, his phone has gone with him (saw him pick it up), the watch is about to be wrapped as a crhistmas present, and his tablet I have moved from underneath a cushion on the sofa (good thing we don't have children - but that is the difference between him and I, I brought my sister and brother up) and I have put it on charge to the right of the TV. Admittedly this now means it is not where he left it (good thing too) and it is in a black case on a black surface in a dark corner, but there is a black USB lead leading to it which would normally be on the wooden floor... these are the things I check. I have a semi-photographic memory in that I can tell you every pothole, grid, manhole cover, white or yellow line, bend, gate, hole in the wall, dangerous tree and everything else of every road I have ever been on whether it be as a passenger, driver or cyclist (or even pedestrian). I can tell you where on a page I read something to within a line or two (not by word count or line count but by the image in my mind - that is where I am different from most and why I refer to it as semi-photographic - numbers are hard for me being dyslexic, but images are surprisingly easy) I am boring that way, and it does and has cost me friends. I learnt a long time ago not to let on to people I meet in person. Online is different (thankfully) and means I can be me much more easily than around people - which is probably why I live rurally with no neighbours, rarely see or talk to people and generally don't socialise much. Tomorrow is going to be a major challenge for me. An informal (works) do (BBQ Christmas party with a major thunderstorm forecast, so outside might not be an option making indoors more crowded) at a diplomat's house in the capital city in the 'posh' end of town. HELP View attachment 4612 I will have nothing in common with anyone there, find social scenes difficult and awkward because I can't think about the 'tactful' response for too long before a reply is expected and what I usually say would be better said to a squaddie than in a work's do and as for the diplomatic scene... err, no. I may have had a private education in the UK, but I was just as difficult and awkward and out of place then. OK, I am probably worse now. I'm out of practice!
the problem is that with my OH's work, I have learnt not to be nosey. I would never know where he was, what he was doing and sometimes when he would be back... I did on one occasion establish that he was working in an old quarry with two security perimeters. When even a satellite went overhead everything and everyone had to undercover. That's about as much as I can say online!Be nosey.
And I meant, not being nosey as in not asking q's full stop. It is a hard balance to find and not one I am good at. I either ask or I don't. I can't filter... hence the lack of tact and lack of diplomacy. My 'filters' don't engage before my thoughts announce themselves to the world sadly and my mind thinks faster than 'filters'.... Even now, I am thinking about 3 words behind what I am typing... I find that odd and have to double check what I have written because usually it is what I want, it is just it happens before the thought actually arrives in the 'processing centre'!@SatNavSaysStraightOn I think she means nosey as in what kind of books, music, hobbies, food do you like. Not nosey as in job, etc.
Heck food might be a good place to start. You do know your "diet" (for lack of a better word) intrigues us.
Oh and I will try to get you that sugar cookie recipe tomorrow.
Yes, exactly that. I didn't mean asking about people their jobs. In social events most people prefer to talk about other things anyway. You will probably find that lots of people ask you how you are settling in to Australian life. Good cue for you to mention the good things about the food there and the chickens. This will be sure to spark a response from them.@SatNavSaysStraightOn I think she means nosey as in what kind of books, music, hobbies, food do you like. Not nosey as in job, etc.
Heck food might be a good place to start. You do know your "diet" (for lack of a better word) intrigues us.
Oh and I will try to get you that sugar cookie recipe tomorrow.
Is it just me or does anyone else find most modern watches huge crude and vulgar ? I remember when the very best watches [and these had REAL workings] were slim lightweight and [even men's] elegant. Now we seem to have to wear a battery watch [most of which appear to have the same far eastern internals] that appears to bear more resemblance to a mantle clock than a decent wristwatch.
Is it just me or does anyone else find most modern watches huge crude and vulgar ? I remember when the very best watches [and these had REAL workings] were slim lightweight and [even men's] elegant. Now we seem to have to wear a battery watch [most of which appear to have the same far eastern internals] that appears to bear more resemblance to a mantle clock than a decent wristwatch.
I rarely wear a wristwatch these days (why do I need to know the time?). We have a clock in the kitchen which, although it does not keep accurate time, it's adequate for cooking. When I do wear a watch it's a $100.00 Seiko which, by necessity has to have a reasonably large face (30 mm) to compensate for my failing eyesight.