Sunday 11th January 2015
Hello and a Happy New Year from the houseboy! Hope 2015 is a stellar year for you all.
I always find it hard to get back in the swing of ‘normal’ life after the festivities are over, or what passes as normal life in the quasi mansion. This year I’ve found it harder still. I’m just not in the zone, peeps. Dick says I always look for something to ‘squall’ about at Christmas, and he’s right, I do. I don’t find it an easy time of year. This year I didn’t need to look for things. It was a traumatic Christmas one way and another.
One of my dear lit lady friends passed away. It was an unexpected shock and made me feel sad and unsettled to say the very least. Leo’s mother was also taken ill with pneumonia and then, to cap it all, his poor posh puss Genny got a kidney infection and was really poorly. Leo was distraught. I nearly had to hold his hand. Happily, both his mother and Genny survived. To be honest, his mater is a real tough nut. She’s like Shane’s father, old, but not ready to depart this life, no way, no how. I think God will have to come for that pair in person.
I was almost as gutted as Leo over Genny’s illness. It was touch and go for a while. I wept with relief when she survived to meow another day. Bless her. I’m very fond of her.
I think the men folk were mighty glad to get back to work this year. They spent much of their Xmas break covered in my snot and tears. If I wasn’t crying about Genny, or my friend, I was breaking down over the John Lewis and Sainsbury’s Christmas ads. Finally, I had an emotional meltdown while watching ‘Up’ on the telly one afternoon.’ I tried to keep myself in check, but the harder I tried the worse it got. My sobbing registered on the Richter scale. I can’t help it. I’m an emotional gay. Shane dived for the remote and switched the telly off, declaring it out of bounds for the rest of the day, if only for the sake of his and Dick’s sanity.
I haven’t made any New Year Resolutions as such, though I would like to try and write up ‘Revelations.’ Whether it will happen, I don’t know. I’ve got to wonder whether it’s time for me to think about letting the diary, past and present, gracefully go. Food for thought.
Monday 12th January 2015
Whoa, steady, Peeps, steady. My first diary entry for 2015 seems to have caused something of a stir amongst some of my stalwart fans - calm down, calm down, Doris and Walter. There’s no need to panic. I never said I was about to shut up shop and ship out immediately, did I, did I? I said, and I quote: ‘I’ve got to wonder’ and ‘food for thought.’ And I do have to wonder, and it is food for thought, and naturally so. I’ve been at this a long time now and one does question the relevancy of what one does and why one does it over periods of time, if one gets what one means? I’m an introspective, agonising kind of soul at the best of times, and the start of a year does tend to make me agonise and introspect even more than usual. I’d opt out of January if I could and go straight into February, bypassing Valentine’s Day of course. I’m a slow writer and I don’t exactly sell bucket loads of books to begin with. New EU regulations regarding VAT on digital goods have also fucked up life for indie authors like me, meaning the few bucks we make from selling small numbers of books will now be considerably less, and it wasn’t a whole lot to begin with. Such changes lead you to question the point of continuing something that may end up costing you more to put out than you recoup. I know, I know, ugly materialism raises its head again. So anyway, let’s take a breath here and just say, I’m pondering, wondering and having a dialogue with my internal author.
Before I go I’ll share a favourite line from an email on the matter -
“Is this some crazy ploy for attention? Do you not get enough emails? Or have you become a deranged sadist?”
ROTFLMAO
I love it! Well, I never intended it to be a cry for attention, it was just me mulling and saying what was on my mind, but you know, maybe, subconsciously, there was an aspect of that. I certainly seemed to have wound some keys. :-) As I said, food for thought, folks, food for thought.
I’m off now. I’ve got to take some stuff to the dry cleaners and then I’m going for a hair cut. Ciao for now, and remember, STAY CALM AND CARRY ON!
Thursday 15th January 2015
Good morning, Peeps, ‘tis I, the houseboy, reporting for diary duty.
My earlier post seems to have stirred up a bit of a hornet’s nest. Oh dear. Bad, Gilli, BAD! I’d smack myself, only the way I’d do it, I’d probably enjoy it and then no writing at all would get done, not with my right hand busy doing other ‘stuff.’ I’ve had a ton of emails, and you know me, I’m slower than a geriatric sloth at replying to correspondence. Thank you to all mailers, old and new. It’s nice to know that my witterings have been enjoyed and would be missed. Yes, yes, I enjoyed having my massive ego stroked. As my men folk often say, I’m a needy greedy boy. Having given it thought, and with death threats in mind, I will try to deliver a follow up or ups to ‘Christmas at Leo’s.’ It won’t be a speedy delivery, because I don’t work that way. Patience, people, patience.
General houseboy witterings:
It’s a cold and windy day here in my portion of Blighty with severe weather warnings out for later in the day. How severe is anyone’s guess. I suppose it depends on the weather person handing out the warning. If it’s a Shane like person then the warnings and weather are likely to be uber severe and we might as well batten down the hatches and pray for deliverance. On the other hand, if it’s a Dick type weather person then ‘severe’ could well mean a brief blast of icy wind followed by a warm and mellow front.
I went out for my usual run this morning and quite enjoyed the challenge of running head on into a cold and blustery wind. There were a few more runners than usual on the streets today, there always is at this time of year, as people try to honour New Year resolutions to burn off excess Chrissy calories and ‘get fit.’ Most of them won’t last. By the end of January it’ll be the usual suspects, such as moi, pounding the pavements, knacking up and wearing out our knees and ankles. I’ve got a sore right knee at the moment, so I took it pretty easy this morning. I was overtaken by one of the newbie runners, who gave me a smug look as she jogged on past. She was dressed in black leggings and a neon pink top. She looked like a liquorice allsort. Good job Dick wasn’t around. He has a penchant for liquorice allsorts. It could have led to a very nasty incident. I suspect the police wouldn’t look kindly on a posh pervert trying to suck on a random jogger.
I am, I confess, slightly hyper this morning. It’s pop singer, and ad king, Peter Andre’s fault. The sexy ‘Iceland’ hunk was round for breakfast this morning and it’s left me a bit excited. He’s delicious, rich and full bodied with dark chocolate tones - or at least his coffee is. I bought a pack of the NY Italian ground coffee he endorses to raise funds for the cancer research foundation he set up. Boy is it strong. I added far too much to the pot. It poured like treacle. Even caffeine fiend Shane blinked slightly as he downed his third cup. Next time I make it, I’ll add more water and less coffee. I don’t like Shane having too much caffeine, not at his age. Bless him. I want to keep him fit and healthy. It’s his birthday on Sunday. We’re having folk round for a bit of a do on Saturday night. I have no clue what to get him for a pressie, he has everything he needs, but I still like to mark the occasion.
Well, I can’t be sitting here chatting into the ether all day. I’ve got an excess caffeine intake to work off. I might as well put it to good use and blitz the housework. Dust mites and germs don your armour! The houseboy is coming for you.
February 2015
Hello and a Happy New Year from the houseboy! Hope 2015 is a stellar year for you all.
I always find it hard to get back in the swing of ‘normal’ life after the festivities are over, or what passes as normal life in the quasi mansion. This year I’ve found it harder still. I’m just not in the zone, peeps. Dick says I always look for something to ‘squall’ about at Christmas, and he’s right, I do. I don’t find it an easy time of year. This year I didn’t need to look for things. It was a traumatic Christmas one way and another.
One of my dear lit lady friends passed away. It was an unexpected shock and made me feel sad and unsettled to say the very least. Leo’s mother was also taken ill with pneumonia and then, to cap it all, his poor posh puss Genny got a kidney infection and was really poorly. Leo was distraught. I nearly had to hold his hand. Happily, both his mother and Genny survived. To be honest, his mater is a real tough nut. She’s like Shane’s father, old, but not ready to depart this life, no way, no how. I think God will have to come for that pair in person.
I was almost as gutted as Leo over Genny’s illness. It was touch and go for a while. I wept with relief when she survived to meow another day. Bless her. I’m very fond of her.
I think the men folk were mighty glad to get back to work this year. They spent much of their Xmas break covered in my snot and tears. If I wasn’t crying about Genny, or my friend, I was breaking down over the John Lewis and Sainsbury’s Christmas ads. Finally, I had an emotional meltdown while watching ‘Up’ on the telly one afternoon.’ I tried to keep myself in check, but the harder I tried the worse it got. My sobbing registered on the Richter scale. I can’t help it. I’m an emotional gay. Shane dived for the remote and switched the telly off, declaring it out of bounds for the rest of the day, if only for the sake of his and Dick’s sanity.
I haven’t made any New Year Resolutions as such, though I would like to try and write up ‘Revelations.’ Whether it will happen, I don’t know. I’ve got to wonder whether it’s time for me to think about letting the diary, past and present, gracefully go. Food for thought.
Monday 12th January 2015
Whoa, steady, Peeps, steady. My first diary entry for 2015 seems to have caused something of a stir amongst some of my stalwart fans - calm down, calm down, Doris and Walter. There’s no need to panic. I never said I was about to shut up shop and ship out immediately, did I, did I? I said, and I quote: ‘I’ve got to wonder’ and ‘food for thought.’ And I do have to wonder, and it is food for thought, and naturally so. I’ve been at this a long time now and one does question the relevancy of what one does and why one does it over periods of time, if one gets what one means? I’m an introspective, agonising kind of soul at the best of times, and the start of a year does tend to make me agonise and introspect even more than usual. I’d opt out of January if I could and go straight into February, bypassing Valentine’s Day of course. I’m a slow writer and I don’t exactly sell bucket loads of books to begin with. New EU regulations regarding VAT on digital goods have also fucked up life for indie authors like me, meaning the few bucks we make from selling small numbers of books will now be considerably less, and it wasn’t a whole lot to begin with. Such changes lead you to question the point of continuing something that may end up costing you more to put out than you recoup. I know, I know, ugly materialism raises its head again. So anyway, let’s take a breath here and just say, I’m pondering, wondering and having a dialogue with my internal author.
Before I go I’ll share a favourite line from an email on the matter -
“Is this some crazy ploy for attention? Do you not get enough emails? Or have you become a deranged sadist?”
ROTFLMAO
I love it! Well, I never intended it to be a cry for attention, it was just me mulling and saying what was on my mind, but you know, maybe, subconsciously, there was an aspect of that. I certainly seemed to have wound some keys. :-) As I said, food for thought, folks, food for thought.
I’m off now. I’ve got to take some stuff to the dry cleaners and then I’m going for a hair cut. Ciao for now, and remember, STAY CALM AND CARRY ON!
Thursday 15th January 2015
Good morning, Peeps, ‘tis I, the houseboy, reporting for diary duty.
My earlier post seems to have stirred up a bit of a hornet’s nest. Oh dear. Bad, Gilli, BAD! I’d smack myself, only the way I’d do it, I’d probably enjoy it and then no writing at all would get done, not with my right hand busy doing other ‘stuff.’ I’ve had a ton of emails, and you know me, I’m slower than a geriatric sloth at replying to correspondence. Thank you to all mailers, old and new. It’s nice to know that my witterings have been enjoyed and would be missed. Yes, yes, I enjoyed having my massive ego stroked. As my men folk often say, I’m a needy greedy boy. Having given it thought, and with death threats in mind, I will try to deliver a follow up or ups to ‘Christmas at Leo’s.’ It won’t be a speedy delivery, because I don’t work that way. Patience, people, patience.
General houseboy witterings:
It’s a cold and windy day here in my portion of Blighty with severe weather warnings out for later in the day. How severe is anyone’s guess. I suppose it depends on the weather person handing out the warning. If it’s a Shane like person then the warnings and weather are likely to be uber severe and we might as well batten down the hatches and pray for deliverance. On the other hand, if it’s a Dick type weather person then ‘severe’ could well mean a brief blast of icy wind followed by a warm and mellow front.
I went out for my usual run this morning and quite enjoyed the challenge of running head on into a cold and blustery wind. There were a few more runners than usual on the streets today, there always is at this time of year, as people try to honour New Year resolutions to burn off excess Chrissy calories and ‘get fit.’ Most of them won’t last. By the end of January it’ll be the usual suspects, such as moi, pounding the pavements, knacking up and wearing out our knees and ankles. I’ve got a sore right knee at the moment, so I took it pretty easy this morning. I was overtaken by one of the newbie runners, who gave me a smug look as she jogged on past. She was dressed in black leggings and a neon pink top. She looked like a liquorice allsort. Good job Dick wasn’t around. He has a penchant for liquorice allsorts. It could have led to a very nasty incident. I suspect the police wouldn’t look kindly on a posh pervert trying to suck on a random jogger.
I am, I confess, slightly hyper this morning. It’s pop singer, and ad king, Peter Andre’s fault. The sexy ‘Iceland’ hunk was round for breakfast this morning and it’s left me a bit excited. He’s delicious, rich and full bodied with dark chocolate tones - or at least his coffee is. I bought a pack of the NY Italian ground coffee he endorses to raise funds for the cancer research foundation he set up. Boy is it strong. I added far too much to the pot. It poured like treacle. Even caffeine fiend Shane blinked slightly as he downed his third cup. Next time I make it, I’ll add more water and less coffee. I don’t like Shane having too much caffeine, not at his age. Bless him. I want to keep him fit and healthy. It’s his birthday on Sunday. We’re having folk round for a bit of a do on Saturday night. I have no clue what to get him for a pressie, he has everything he needs, but I still like to mark the occasion.
Well, I can’t be sitting here chatting into the ether all day. I’ve got an excess caffeine intake to work off. I might as well put it to good use and blitz the housework. Dust mites and germs don your armour! The houseboy is coming for you.
February 2015