A Tag,Tessa? A TAG??!!

Groans of horror and disgust - though it took An Aerial Armadillo to flaunt her red cape at me (c.f. bullfighting jargon) enough to make me want to put down horns and charge... At her, or it - not sure which.

Tags are as bad, if not worse, than awards. Umpteen questions waiting to be answered like an exam paper? Not Pygmalion likely. See, I've already answered the first question, in a back handed way - current obsessions! Can I not indulge in an anti-tag obsession as good as any Suldog or maybe Chairman Bill could invent?

I sit here, listening to the distant barking of an extremely yappy, annoying dog drowning out the quiet hum of my computer, and the rattling of it's keys beneath my fingers. Trusty Birkenstocks adorn my feet, as I re-read my words to see how many typo's I can spot, before I give in and click the ABC button. I've already held forth on Springtime's cherry blossom, cowslips, violets and dandelions in recent posts, so Tessa must forgive me for not naming another 'flower of the moment' in answer to yet another of those dratted questions.

I take a guilty, tongue-in-cheek pleasure from playing the grouch, you see; this is quite apart from the sinful pleasure of eating a dish of profiteroles oozing cream and chocolate sauce when my daughter, her daughters and little (ha ha?) old me visited Pizza Hut this weekend. This is the kind of 'holiday' I like best - a complete, spur of the moment, out of the ordinary (for me, anyway) activity. We hadn't planned such an outing, but as the girls had differing ideas of what would or would not be acceptable meal time fodder, I saved the arguments and washing up by letting the moths out of my purse and offering to treat us at the establishment that would cater for their pizza pash, while allowing their mum and I to savour a sedate salad. Followed by those anything-but-sedate profiteroles...

I don't plan on repeating such a holiday in the near future, as it will take time for the purse moths to recover from the outing first, not to mention my piggy bank. Until somebody perfects the technique of 'beam me up Scotty' travel, I am perfectly content to stay at home and let my mind do the wandering. Which it does, all over the place, as you may have noticed if you've ready many of my posts.

So I'm a jeans wearing, batty old git who laughs at herself probably as much as other people do, never knowing which piece of idiocy will next reduce me to the snorting stage, topic also covered previously in discussions with Gumbo Writer and Sweet Mango, if my memory serves me correctly.

If you want to see the list of questions which prompted this outburst, I suggest you go visit Tessa, after which, you will see I've mostly answered them all, despite ignoring boring list format. Feel free to quiz me further, should you feel cheated by this. But be warned, any mention of Tags, Awards etc, is likely to set me off again...