A work colleague and very good friend once said to me “Andrew the trouble with you is you think tooo much”, and do you know what, the more I learn and the longer I live I’m convinced overthinking is part of a human being’s DNA, you cannot change the way you are genetically programmed can you. A thought crossed my mind the other day, I do hope readers don’t think my posts are taken from my old blog or worse still penned years ago! Nope, every clumsily written Post is idly dreamt up at work and drafted a day or so before publishing. I’ve been thinking of stopping for a while, don’t get me wrong I adore WordPress and I WILL MOST definitely continue reading the bloggers I follow because I enjoy them tooo much, the only downside is their talented use of language and composition shows up my inadequacies as a writer or perhaps it’s a lack of ideas? You see my life is empty and uncomplicated when I should strive and strive again to fill it with joy, I can’t help thinking my inability to meet a female, become friends, marry or partner up will haunt me till my dying day………… but that’s ok, that’s life I guess, I have a LOT to be thankful for but I get this awful dreaded premonition over thinking may have screwed my whole life up! Come the fateful day when I reach those pearly gates and St. Peter says “So Andrew what have you done with your life my friend?” I’ll answer “Not a lot Peter, you see I squandered it, I wasted that most precious of gifts time itself” and yes St. Peter will be angry, I’m sure it’ll be anger and not pity such a disgusting trait feeling sorry for oneself. Yep I fucked up big time and I never did get to have sexual intercourse in a car, that’s a big regret, love making in a car may not seem that important to you but it’s a major rights of passage between apprentice engineers electricians and practical young men, God the stories and b*llsh*t I’ve had to listen to lunch break after lunch break, lurid tales lavished by thirty of the greatest seventeen year old lads you could ever hope to meet, amazing disclosures explaining the complexities of getting a girls knickers off in the back seat of his first car, let alone the mountain that is giving the young lady a right good seeing to, surely position cowgirl in a mini metro is a physical impossibility? Or maybe a BJ is nearer the truth 😀 some of life’s more memorable stories are born of comradery. I’ve slept with quite a few women in my life, fourteen to be exact (is that above average?), but casual internet relationships and the like don’t count do they, (perhaps I’ve been far tooo honest here this past two years, distasteful even, disgusted readers). Where was I, yes true love is finding a good woman, however there’s another popular definition of love favoured by many bloggers, namely ‘soul mates’, turns out finding your soul mate is love’s Holy Grail, no? Perhaps you’ve been reading the wrong blogs then, but seriously finding one’s soul mate happens 🙂 ………… where was I? Yes that flipping St. Peter……….perhaps come my fateful judgement day, it’ll finally dawn on me I should have spent my life believing in a God instead of being so dismissive of religion and spirituality, would a belief in a higher being, a supreme creator have cured me of my apathy, regrets and thoughts of missed opportunities, squandering gifts God given, not taking risks may have cost me dear? In my defence the odd lucky break would have been appreciated, I’ve never fully come to terms or coped well living with my drug resistant epilepsy this past twenty five years, not withstanding ‘the however many years that still remain’, that’s the real killer……………………….. trouble is I don’t believe in a God, hmm this is a very self indulgent post but hey my blog and all that. For what it’s worth I’m convinced the real point to life is wait for it! The meaning of life ‘is to love and be loved’, simple as, without love living is meaningless and yes pointless, you may just as well be dead because your soul will be. My brother has a wife with children, I try not to envy him but increasingly I kinda do 🙂 they’re such fabulous witty fun loving boys, the family all love each other and I’d bet M. and J. (parents) don’t wake up on a morning and throw the towel in, they can’t can they! There’s mouths to feed, clothes to pay for and they’re both blessed with love and fun that comes with having children.
Best stop there 🙂
So 😀 after making clear my posts are original and new, today’s short tale is taken from Sunday last and I’d agree it’s not the most riveting of reads lol, however it’s honest to the core….and brief 🙂
The dinner plate of delicious looking food below is often referred to as Britain’s traditional English Sunday roast dinner, and that particular one in the photograph was captured at my mother’s last Sunday lunch time, but please note the choice of meat can vary, perhaps pork chicken or my absolute favourite lamb with mint sauce! Wow what a combination!!!
So there you are, my dinner consisted of roast beef, roast potatoes, broccoli, cauliflower, runner beans (growing in her garden fifteen minutes earlier) and two Yorkshire puddings and not for getting gravy made from the meat juices…………yum yum.
…………… the photo below taken by me show’s mum stirring the gravy…………
…………and the photo below shows me washing up after we’ve eaten!
So a question for you, 🙂 who gets the better deal, me having a Sunday roast made for me by mum? Or mum taking her dog for a long walk down by the river, through the meadows or circling the reservoir nature reserve? Personally I think I get the better deal, mum probably thinks she does because she’s a little arthritis and Holly has boundless energy, mind you two hours exercising in the rain is heavenly fun (hmm inadvertently back to Peter)………….AND don’t forget I do the washing up! 😀
I can cook for myself, everyone should be able to feed themselves in a civilised society, however I find preparing a meal hassle after a days work, anyways I’ll finish this post on an up note, popping over to mum’s for Sunday roast is richly anticipated and sincerely appreciated once eaten!