On The Brink

Absolutely verbatim, spellings, random capitalisation and all, here is a story I wrote when I was six. It’s in an envelope which has far more recently been labelled, ‘Jenny’s Quest To Find The Golden Gruffle’, and here it is:

Jenny went for a walk and she met a magician. He ask her to find the Golden Gruffle.

She went home and got somethings. The she set off. (Ed: I suspect author here was being lazy rather than just dim).

Jenny then began her quest.

She had to travel over seas, mointains, right to the other side of the world.

She yousuly camped the nihgt. But sometimes she found a good hotel.

Chapter two

the goldan gruffle

90 miles to go Phew she could walk 90 miles a day! (I remember genuinely thinking that this seemed feasible).

Jenny had gone a long way

she had got the Golden gruffle. then she went home. but this time it was difirent with the Golden gruffle.

goodbye The End.

To be honest this isn’t quite as much of a classic as Whirlpool World, but that’s all the way downstairs, so you’ll have to wait.

My friend Laura is spending a year in Canada at the moment, so as well as her regular blog, she’s writing here, with one of the best URLs I’ve ever seen. I’m looking forward to all her adventures and she’s a pretty good writer (being an English student and all) so this should be pretty exciting. And, well, bravery. Not that it’s an option, but I know full well that a year abroad would terrify me.

Funk Dr Who.

No really. It’s actually the most awesome thing ever. As journeys home go, funk + beautiful sunset + decent company + M&S chocolate crispy cakes is probably about ideal.

Also I am back from Towersey at which I danced like an idiot, was not impregnated by Towersey despite my best efforts (it’s OK, that was sarcasm), got renamed Slagathor* thanks to the International (Towersey) Consumption Regulations, and also spent a disproportionate amount of time feeling really rather poorly, not eating enough, and unable to drink.

It was also sodding cold. Plan for next year: acquire boyfriend for human radiator/handy dance-partner purposes. He can also put up my tent and do the washing up while he’s at it. Honestly – on the last night, for example, I went to sleep in two sleeping bags, two blankets, three pairs of tights, a top, a jumper, a hoody and a scarf, and a fairly substantial beer jacket (alright, cider. But I was drinking again by then. Awesome). And I was still cold.

There were ceilidhs. There was Bellowhead. There were grannies on shopping trolley/Segway hybrids doing a spectacular synchronised wheeling display (they were men in drag, of course). There was drag, actually, quite a lot, on the last night. Lanterns, bikinis made out of newspaper, nipple tassels, cider, hats, good company, sheepsmilk ice-cream, and the first ever ring I have ever owned and worn for more than one day. There were sunsets and sunrises, hot and cold showers, and there was damson wine. And it very-nearly-didn’t matter that I was the most epic spare wheel. One of two single people, camping with four other couples. But hey, all the more reason to bring a radiator/dance partner for next year.

I can’t promise photos because there are people in them and that would be rude. In fact I can promise Not Photos, unless you know me on facebook (feel free to attempt to track me down and add me, I don’t bite, but I may well reject you).

*Originally this was J-bird, which struck me as pretty dull, given the amazing nicknames I’ve had in the past (oh, adolescence, sometimes we do miss thee. Or not). I mean, Moof, Mofo, even just plain old J-Mo or Mo would do. Preferably not The Tricycle. Anyway, I fully deserved a really stupid name after saying that J-bird was pretty dull and someone mooted Slagwhore, and, well, someone else, who was really quite drunk, accidentally transmuted this to Slagathor. Just so we’re all clear that this is no comment on my honour-or-otherwise.

The John Lewis one with the girl wearing red and growing up.

The Waitrose one for last Christmas.

The Honda one where there’s a choir perfectly imitating the noise a car would make.

I’m sorry if the first two made you cry and hope the brilliance of the last one cheers you up a bit. In the same vein I also like the one about jumping over a gatepost because you’ve always eaten Flora, and the one about Hovis bread which runs through apparently the entirety of the 20th century. But I can’t be bothered to find any more videos because I’m actually about to go to bed now; my next post will probably be actually posted in real time again.

Tim Minchin’s Storm – a nine-minute beat poem about annoying hippies.

Sarah Millican, live at the Apollo.

Newport (State of Mind) – to which my cousin wrote the lyrics.

Ross Noble talking about putting a blanket over an owl. I don’t know why.

SuperTed, of which here’s my favourite episode; and Old Bear. I didn’t ever watch the show, but I loved the books.

Day 2: things that make my sister laugh.

Literally, what it says on the tin – the Harry Potter Literal Trailer. This is perhaps one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a while. You should also watch Laddergoat if you feel so inclined. Although not all the way through.

The OOglies – just to throw you in at the deep end of utter surreality. Is this really for kids, or is it aimed at stoned students and just broadcast on CBBC because it would look bad if The Beeb was programming things specifically for people who are off their faces?

And here is Part Two.

P.S. I’m sorry if, over the next few days, you click on the link to a video and I’ve linked to the wrong thing entirely. I don’t think I have at any point but it is the kind of thing I would do.

I’m going to Towersey. I will be away until Tuesday. I don’t know when I’ll blog next because I wouldn’t be surprised if I spend most of Tuesday asleep in front of the television. However, keep checking back here – I’ve got one actual post scheduled to go up, and also I’m going to give you random gems from YouTube each day. Oh the joys of post-scheduling tools. Hope you all get rained on rather less than I expect I will be, and have a wonderful bank holiday!

Erm, yes, pictures *sensible face*. As usual, click to see full-size. And, because you’re all nice people, please credit me if you want to use these photos for anything and don’t go making any money out of my artwork…!

Plants, see? And, like, focus in ALL THE RIGHT PLACES. I’m sort of quite proud of myself. Bother sensible-face.

What I’m not so pleased about is the fact that I don’t know the names of any of these plants.

Sorry, yes, I think in their camera-owning lives everyone takes at least one photo of a rusty chain to show off how clever they are.

I don’t know why I really like this one, but I do. Ditto the following.

Now, for some knitting. The photos aren’t excellent, mainly due to the lighting situation (poor). The project in question will be a shawl, hopefully sometime within the next few days. I’d like to have cast off before I go to Towersey and preferably, depending on how long it takes, blocked it too, so that I have the option of wearing it at Towersey. It’s quite a festival-chic thing, actually, ideally. I started off knitting it in a soft peach wool I found in my mother’s knitting bag. Obviously I ran out of that well before I thought I would; so I added in some yellow which personally I think works really well because it sort of clashes, but then I would say that. I think it’ll work better if I work the last few rows in a browny-grey colour I also found in the knitting bag, just for extra added clash. If I wear it with fairly plain, simple colours it should work quite well. In a kind of gypsy/hobo kind of a way. Preferably with fingerless gloves and a brazier made from an old oil barrel.

I’m quite pleased with how it’s turning out given that I originally expected to screw up massively and make a rather lopsided generic knitted Thing – I didn’t buy wool with which to make this because it genuinely was meant to be a prototype, so if it does turn out to be something I actively want to wear that is, really, a massive bonus. So it sort of doesn’t matter if I decide I don’t think the colours are right after all (I’m mainly not convinced they’ll suit my skintone. I can’t really wear yellow, much to my chagrin). But we’ll see.

When it’s finished, there will be more photos, don’t you worry. Perhaps even modelled by me, myself.