We’re weary of your endless chatter,
We’ll serve your tongue upon a platter –
Cooked deep fried and done in batter.
Last Wednesday my wife and I had the joy of seeing a preview of the soon to be released movie The best exotic marigold hotel starring Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, Bill Nighy and several other wonderful actors. My wife won the tickets through and offer made by the Seniors Card people here in South Australia.
We both thoroughly enjoyed the movie and will eventually buy the DVD as it is such a delightful romp with many hilarious lines and incidents. Unknown to each other a group of ageing English people respond to glossy advertising placed by the young manager of a run down hotel in India. Unable to afford their current housing, or seeking adventure, each in the group sets out to take up residence in the hotel. Through many misunderstandings, misadventures, comical situations and a touch of pathos, the group is thrown together in an unlikely situation and help one another to survive – or not.
I haven’t laughed out loud like this for some time. In fact, the whole audience – the theatre was full – enjoyed it so much that I occasionally missed some of the wonderful dialogue. Mind you, the average age of the audience was well over 60; you have to be 60 to qualify for a seniors card. The script was certainly written with seniors in mind – but younger generations will also get a good laugh at this, if only out of fear of what might happen to them in a decade or two.
I am a great admirer of the acting of both Judi Dench and Maggie Smith but this movie shows how both of them are ageing quickly. May they continue to delight audiences for many years to come – even if those movies send up the elderly in hilarious ways like this wonderful film.
Warning: This post has little to do with writing. In fact, it probably has nothing to do with writing – except that I’m writing it.
What does every man need?
Quite a few things, I dare say. Generally most of those “needs” could easily be reclassified as “wants”.
In my opinion, however, there is one thing this man needs: a good pair of slippers. After a hard day’s work there are few more comforting or relaxing things as a good pair of comfortable slippers.
Now I haven’t had a proper pair of slippers in several decades. Instead I have replaced slippers with Ugg boots, that wonderful Australian invention with its soft fleecy lining that ease any aches in the feet and is deliciously warm in the winter, cool in the summer and just about perfect for the rest of the year.
Sadly, my old pair of Ugg boots met an unfortunate end recently; they were thrown unceremoniously into the rubbish bin accompanied by rapturous applause from She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. (I made that last bit up – the bit about the applause.) My wife has been encouraging me to find a suitable replacement pair for longer than I care to remember. The fleecy lining had been flattened many years ago. The side of one had developed a rip to rival the San Andreas Fault and the outsides no longer looked in prime condition. They could have been mistaken for a oddly shaped refugee from a compost heap.
I tried. I really tried to find a replacement pair but extensive searches and numerous test fittings of potential replacements unearthed nothing suitable. (To be honest, I only went to one local store, and then only tried on about 3 pairs.) Imagine my delight, and my wife’s approval, when I found a pair recently that not only felt comfortable as to size, but also reminded me what I had been missing for so many years.
They are wonderfully comfortable.
Just perfect for relaxing every evening. Don’t know why I didn’t throw the old ones away several years ago.
Read more about Ugg boots here.
I love playing with words.
I really enjoy using simple, everyday words in new ways and seeing what happens. This is the amazing thing about being a writer. You can take ordinary words and make something extraordinary: a poem, a story, an idea for a novel, a song, an inspirational piece or something that gets up someone’s nose like an annoying insect in one’s ear.
I also love using puns. Now, on occasions this tendency riles people just a tad. Sometimes I get a laugh, sometimes a groan and occasionally a disapproving glare. You get that.
On rare occasions I come up with a little gem; well, I think it’s funny. Like this one:
A few weeks ago my wife wrote “Loose tea” on her shopping list on the fridge. I knew she actually meant “leaf tea” – not tea bags -but the cheekiness within prompted me to add another entry underneath: “Slightly more moral tea”. I just couldn’t resist.
Fortunately my wife saw the funny side and actually laughed out loud.
The risk was worth taking.
I had a rather strange encounter with a honey bee recently. It’s behaviour still puzzles me.
A few weeks ago I was sitting on our back veranda enjoying the morning sun on a coolish day and partaking of my morning cup of coffee. I also had a good book to read and all was right with the world.
My enjoyment of the day, the coffee and the book was rudely interrupted by a buzzing bee. It came up close to my coffee mug on the table, hovering only millimetres from the bright blue flowers painted on it. The bee did several close circuits of the mug and decided that the flowers weren’t the genuine sort and with no prospect of a feed.
It then proceeded to hover as close as several centimetres from my face, as if checking to see if I might be a source of nectar. It did this for about ten seconds before flying off to more promising places.
Perhaps it was chastising me for not having real flowers on my coffee mug.