What??

Almost two and a half years since I last posted? Surely not. This thing has got it's dates bixed up a mit.

I did warn you...

Rubbish....

Yes, me. I'm rubbish. Over a month since my last blog. Do I really have so little to say?
Yes.

Long Time, No See...

I knew it would be like this. It's the story of my life. I'm full of good intentions at the time, unfailing enthusiasm; all or nothing; black or white; no hint of grey. it usually lasts about four days and then life takes over and starts dictating and of course, I take copious shorthand and follow instructions. Which means that this blogging business slips to the bottom of the list and gets neglected.

Sometimes I worry about this. I hear people talking about epiphany and life-changing moments. I have a life changing moment at least once a fortnight but again, they only seem to last about four days before I start to think that I'm being dramatic and ill-conceived. Is this a negative trait or are we all like this? Answers on a postcard please...

In response to my last blog, I have been assured that tooth extraction does indeed count as surgery and I'm pleased about that. It makes me feel less foolish for sitting here clutching my cheek, rocking back and forth, groaning quietly. There have been two further visits to my lovely dentist, lots more cheek clutching and a one-way ticket to bankruptcy.

Today's meant to be the happiest day of the year. Have I missed something...?

Does tooth extraction constitute surgery? Should I, by the mere fact that I was administered anaesthetic yesterday, expect to feel out of sorts?

I always thought that having a tooth out was small fry in general terms. I think I may have been wrong. I’ve been feeling groggy since yesterday morning and despite going to bed last night with positive thoughts of feeling fine when I woke up...I didn’t and I still don’t.

I’ve done some work this morning. Bit of script-reading for someone else; bit of scripting for myself. I hadn’t expected this morning to comprise of rape and werewolves but one never knows what the day holds. Which is probably best.

We’ve been invited to a Eurovision party tonight. Usually, I’d be full of thoughts about fancy dress and looking forward to it but I’m not sure I have the strength. Being sufficiently camp for Eurovision takes a lot of effort.

Where did the scorching sunshine go.......?

I’m off to take some tablets.

I had to visit the dentist this morning. Ten to nine. It’s not a good time to be awake, let alone lying prostate in a dentist’s chair. She’s a new dentist. Welsh speaker from Lampeter. I had high hopes before we started.

Being a person who fears pain more than death or destitution, going to the dentist is something I do only by actively engaging my “adult brain”. It’s not a full time state of mind. It has to be switched on, kicked into gear and accelerated fully before it works and that much effort should never be a regular state.

I go to the dentist because I know I have to. And because not having been for fifteen years meant that I was rushed in for an emergency root canal last year and it’s possibly the most pain I have ever experienced. Aside from BBC away-days.

But, as in all things, this morning's experience was nowhere near as bad as the anticipation. She was indeed lovely, with a well developed sense of humour and an easy, ready smile. The one bum note is that I had to have a tooth removed. it’s been wobbling for about eighteen months, so, I suppose, best to get shot of it. She injected me twice and then went in with the tweezers but I could feel it, so I had to have a third jab, a wait and then she ventured back in with the offending instrument. Despite a very loud crunching sound, it was painless and thankfully, swift. They asked whether I wanted to see the tooth. Am I twelve? No, thank you. Absolutely not.

But then the dentist firmly placed herself on my Christmas card list. She told me to take it easy for the rest of the day. When I asked what she meant, she said “no heavy lifting”...! “Really?” I responded swiftly. “Absolutely” was the reply.

BRILLIANT!!!

Why?

Because today was the day that I’d decided to venture back to the gym after a lengthy period of abstinence. I’ve been paying a monthly fee for the past eight months and haven’t been going which can only be classed as spectacularly stupid. So today was the day I decided to venture back to the torture chamber. I don’t enjoy it.

Those of you who know me will be fully aware of the weight issue. It goes up, I get down. Funnily enough, it works in the other direction too but I more often than not forget that. I have however, in the past, become obsessed with it and at one point was going twice a day. But, as my waist will tell you, that was a very long time ago.

So my intended [and dreaded] lat-pulls, bench presses and several kilometres of near death were avoided. With genuine justification. Eryl Byron – thank you!

So, it’s Friday and the weekend swims, smiling, towards us.
Hyacinth is off the road though. Hyacinth? The new campervan. Well, new to us but twenty two years old in actual fact. Hence the need for new sills & wheel-arches. We’re hoping she’ll be back with us by Whitsun when we can disappear to some spectacular location in Pembrokeshire and completely switch off.

I did warn you about this blog......

Jack Jewers is a talented, young, independant film-maker and it's all his fault.

I first worked with Jack back in 2004. BBC Wales had commissioned him to make a series of short films and I was drafted in to produce. It was a great series, lots of fun to work on and we've remained friends ever since [often unusual for producers & directors] but it's still all his fault.

He sent me a link to his blog today. I knew what blogs were and had even read a few but had never really thought about having my own - which in itself might be considered odd from someone who makes some kind of living from being a wordsmith but having read and been inspired by Jacks wonderfully amusing and frighteningly articulate blog, I created this one.

So, sorry but it's all his fault.

He knows I'm only teasing.

But here I sit, with my very own blog-page or blogspot or whatever one calls these things, with little or no idea what I'm going to do with it. Being from a TV drama background, I know that people are really only interested in "life with the boring bits left out" but what constitutes 'boring'? My idea of boring is an afternoon in front of the footy or a day clothes shopping but I know full well that thousands of other people actively seek out these pastimes. So what do I leave out? What do I put in?

I mean, I could tell you that I'm battling with a very tenacious little verruca at the moment [it's winning] or that our newly acquired campervan is off the road for a week or two while it gets it's sills & wheel-arches replaced. Quite important issues in my life; probably not so gripping for you.

So maybe I'll just sit here and type and hope that it strikes a chord with someone somewhere. Or not.

Right! I'm off to apply the Wartner to my right sole and think about what to make for food tonight. See? I rest my case.....