Monday, 18 February 2008

A biography in just six words.

You know how some houses have wallpaper? Well in our house the wallpaper will never be mocked by future generations (although our carpet probably will) because it is constantly changing.

I mean that in both a figurative and a literal sense. Here at Trash Towers the wallpaper is aural (this another of those words pronounced differently here from Australia). When the radios are all turned (which is most of the day) you can hear Radio Four from anywhere in the house and while I recognise it is not a big house, it is quite up and downy and cornery.

I preface this post in this way because I heard a fabulous interview and follow-up on the Today programme over the last week. Some (obviously very nice) bloggy fella has a whole site dedicated to people's personal stories. Stories that encompass a whole lifetime or simply a snapshot of moment but they must be only six words long.

*Wow!* Doesn't that give a body pause for thought? I was reminded of it while reading Princess Genevieve relating of her Norwegian trip. Apparently 'the Vikings were a violent people'.

A snapshot of my autobiopgraphy today could read - 'Two children starve while mother blogs.'

Although with the minutes edging ever closer until I take my teenaged face off to meet up with the fabulous Missus Moogsmum tomorrow it may well say - 'Kidnapped! Cage knitted from steel wool.'

As CK has pointed out this is a terrific example I am setting for both my impressionably aged children. Not only have I built up an online friendship with some faceless (although now not thanks to last week's post) internet persona who may in reality turn out to be a 50 foot tall (the height grew with the telling over the weekend) Scots bloke with a nice line in white vans and building collections of caged people BUT I have arranged to meet up with said friend. Apparently tomorrow I am to look for secret signals which will be used to call in the rest of the army of Scotsmen with similar interests. That and put a pair of boltcutters down my knickers!

I have never been clear in which branch of spec./black ops he was involved but am beginning to think it may have been a little kinky!

The game is over and exhaustion has set in. Until they negotiate my release, goodnight!


  1. Fear not, Trash ..... Lesley may be special but I'm sure she's not dangerous. And probably that white van she drives round in is just to lug around all those bargains she gets from the Scrapstore.

    ..... me, jealous? Too right!

    Loving the six word biog. For me .... What children? I only see monkees.

    Have fun today, and please remember to take photographic evidence.


  2. Oh how I relate to this post - HWNLR used to be similarly paranoid that the people who 'lived' in my poota were of the criminal fraternity. He obviously had no regard for either my intelligence (questionable, I know) or intuitive faculties. I have now met 6 people I first encountered on the interweb - and they were/are ALL (without exception) exactly what they said they were. And lovely to boot.

    I would love to meet Mrs Moog and your good self. I'm pretty certain it would be a day of laughing and like-minded chat. I hope you have a really great day - I'm sure you will.

    Take care. x

  3. Boltcutters in your knickers sounds rather uncomfortable and may result in a totally different six word blog!

    Hope you had lots of fun!

    Lucy x

  4. I've just loved reading these comments. I must go back and tell the lads - once I work out how to cast off this steel wool I'm knitting!!!!!!