Well, I know I normally attempt to be funny on this blog. Regardless of how successful I am at this, I don't think I'll be much good at being funny tonight as I am all blissed out in the countryside and have nothing to take the piss out of. I don't think so anyway.
After being a grumpy biatch all week - well it has been a tad stressful, I took myself off for a lovely walk in the hills this morning. Up at the crack of dawn (and what a lovely crack it is - sorry, couldn't resist some filth), the sun was shining, the sky was blue and the birds were singing their little hearts out in the trees. I didn't even need my iPod for company. Just wandering up a country lane to a lovely little village at the top of a hill with 2 pubs (!), a church, no corner shop and amazing views of the Welsh countryside. I feel that my behaviour seems far too normal here, so you should know that I indulged in a little accidental animal scaring...well how am I supposed to know that cute foals sticking their heads through hedges don't like having a flash go off in their face. Death by mamma horse is not something I had planned for my easter weekend. I then had the shit scared out of me by daddy horse on the other side of lane doing the horse requivalent of barking loudly at me. Before you report me to the RSPCA, you should know that a bunch of sheep then scared the crap out of ME. Further down the lane, I was admiring the cute lambs frolicking around (if thats not a word made for sheep, I dont know what is), when all the sheep in the whole goddamn field turned as one (do they have fucking sheep radar or what) and glared at me. Now i've not been glared at by 1 sheep before let alone an entire field full. Although perhaps it's hard-wired into them to get shirty with anyone who looks like they might be coming to take their lamb babies off for slaughter. But still it was bloody alarming - the sheep version of The Birds perhaps. I was mildly alarmed that a farmer would appear and or I would be starring in my own version of Eden Lake.
I have also been to the beach today. Also blissful, and crucially, lacked any livestock scaring. I did however fear I was going to be the first person to die (or at least suffer a bruised coccyx) from falling off a 3 foot cliff whilst clambering over rocks. Or drowning in 3 ins of water in a rock pool. I certainly have a rather tragic case of wind burn and sea-breezed hair (sadly this does not involve vodka and cranberry juice). The only thing missing from our 1hour long walk on the beach was an ice cream. Actually, I've never understood why someone decided that a rich sticky creamy sweet was an ideal match for a windy gritty area. Someone illogical, that's who. But still you can't beat a lovely Mr Whippy with a flake, I am normally a Green & Black's/Ben & Jerry's fan but when it comes to the beach, only a 99 will do. Except we didn't have one. I feel very hard done by now.
The day was finished off with a lovely trip to a *proper* pub and a pint of cider. By which I mean a strongbow. I know strongbow is scuzzy cheap cider, but I never got hammered on cider as teenager - I was toughened up on tequila shots, drunk illegally outside under-18's discos - cider was for wussies. So i only recently discovered the wonder that is cider - luminous orange magners or pee-coloured strongbow, either is good, I'm not fussy.
I am sure my day of rural bliss really makes for a good post, but tune in the same time tomorrow for this sunday's list. Thank you and goodnight.
Stupidgirl has left the building