Nurdling....

I know, I know, no blog posts for a week. I'm quite surprised it's actually that long, it seems like only yesterday that I was posting.

Anyway not much to see here, so move along if you like. It was a fairly standard week. Off to a friend's for coffee last Saturday morning, followed by afternoon in bed because I wasn't well. (That's not actually all that standard thinking about it) Church on Sunday, Monday I pottered about, what I mainly remember is laundry, Tuesday all day  and Wednesday morning I was at Uni, Wednesday afternoon was an eye test. Yesterday and today - admin and reading.

 

I suspect quite a lot of the pottering was reading too, as I finished  Midnight Tides (Volume 5 The Malazan Tales of The Fallen  ) this week. I was planning to give myself a rest from this for a while and to this end put Vols 6 - 10 on my Amazon wish list, ready for any of the family who needed ideas  Christmas. However in a weak moment - well I was tired and it was very late - I seem to have ordered volume 6 for myself  and it should be here early next week. Not that I'll be stalking the postman or anything.

 

Now here was a weird thing that happened this week though. I went to pick up a prescription from my doctor's surgery and noticed a sign on the wall saying that it would be closed today for a Bank Holiday. Which I thought was odd, because I couldn't think of any bank holidays that we get in October. So I asked what it was for. They didn't have a clue. 'It was  on a list that came' they said. 'We didn't know what it was for either, but as it was on the list we decided we'd take it'. Some friends of mine have christened it the 'typo holiday', reckoning it could have been a typing error. They may have something, perhaps it should have said 25th December. Because no-one else seems to know anything about it. And the postman came today so it's not even one of these weird specific to Orkney holidays that we occasionally fall foul of.

 

So, where were we? Oh yes, standard week, pottering, nurdling, generally just enjoying life and trying to block out the noise of the howling gale that has blown most of the time. Oh and reading a worthy tome about Gaelic Poetry and Post-Colonial Theory. Which was one of those books full of sentences where you know the meaning of each and every word, but the sentence they make up makes no sense whatsoever. Although I did learn a great phrase. Trans-peripheral solidarity. It's a good 'un.