The other day, my little dog chewed my eraser and ruler. She’s so adorable. It was her way of saying “Get my breakfast or pay the price.” My True Love (TL) joked that she had my measure. Unfortunately, he’s the one that has my measure.
My TL says that I am like a fierce little dog. When the little dog sees a person (in my case, a government spokesperson) walking past the house, a frisson of excitement issues from the little dog as it prepares to take on its larger foe and a volley of furious barking ensues. The little dog is so proud when its barking sends off the (completely oblivious) offender. It’s sport, it’s fun. Okay, I do admit to getting rather furious in defense of my position (ie. good public policy). However, sometimes a little impulse control wouldn’t go astray. So I’ve amended my last blog post so that it is more in keeping with a calmer, bigger dog.
Notice too, how I’ve issued this advice/apology on a Saturday when there are fewer passers-by (readers).
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. This week I have two pieces of music to tell a sordid story of potential abuse and dereliction of duty of care.
When I was a young lass and fresh out of uni, I applied for a job as electorate officer in the then PM’s office. I recall sitting in the foyer waiting for my interview. Coincidentally at that moment the PM appeared down the hall, a halo of light fell on him as he sauntered back to his office after Question Time. He oozed confidence. The Treasurer followed, also cock sure of himself. All the office staff leapt to their feet to stand as the great man passed. I didn’t know what to do. Should I stand or stay seated? I wondered whether I would have to leap to my feet every time the PM came into the room? This did not sit well with me, so I stayed seated. After all, who did he think he was? The PM? I didn’t get the job. I was pretty enough but the other applicant had more relevant experience. Fair enough. That wouldn’t have been hard in this town.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
Do you ever think about the future death of your loved ones, or your own future death? I try not to but this pandemic kind of got me thinking along those lines. Unfortunately, or fortunately, that led to a song popping into my head. Has that happened to you or am I the only weird one? And then other songs recorded and/or written by that person who sang the first mind-popping song, kept popping into my head too.
Last night, I thought I might write a very important post. Then I chickened out. But now …. oh well, here goes.
I don’t do drugs. Never have. I have had too many “hypos” (low blood glucose episodes), which are themselves quite trippy. Some good. Some bad. So I stay well clear of them — drugs, not hypos, which is somewhat harder to “do”. I don’t even drink alcohol anymore. The most I’ve ever drunk was three glasses of wine. You know, when in France … as you do. Read more