My daughter tells me I'm getting boring. Too much quoting, she says, and she's right. I've got Lazy Blogger Syndrome, a complication of Spring Fever.
No one's paying to hear my opinion on someone else's blog post. (I mean "paying" in a figurative sense, where time=money. No, unwary Schiavo Googlers, you won't be hit with a bill, but you might remember me in your prayers.) I've even resorted to blogging on COMMENTS at other blogs. How lame is that?
Forgive me. I'll try to do better.
For today, I'll shut my eyes to the rampant hypocrisy that's available for the clicking at any blog on my blogroll, not to mention the Times, WaPo, or CNN. We do, after all, have Hypocrisy Watch for that. Big Brass Blog is all over it, too. Just the thought of trying to compete with such blatant wisdom sends me straight to Dave Barry's Blog.
I'll ignore my email, rife with potential links, not to mention tempting pharmaceuticals and investment advice.
There are bigger stories to cover, right in my front yard! I woke to a flood this morning, which almost wiped out the odd phallic plant I noticed growing by the ditch the other day. (Ditches are called "streams" here, or the more lyrical "bourne," but I'm from the South, and we don't go in for such pretension. Unless we're picking out flatware.) At first I thought it was a snake, and locked the car door (on the off-chance one of those giant leaps in evolution had occurred) but then I noticed it seemed to be in a vegetative state. (No idea if it left a living will.)
There's also a wedding coming up, as my regular readers are aware. When we last left Charles and Camilla, they'd just announced Mum wasn't attending the wedding, a stale plot line I heard on The Archers just last week! I apologize for leaving in media res, but not even the Royals can top the dysfunction in the House of Bush lately. I promise more coverage; after all, I'm perfectly situated to cover the goings-on, with a bird's eye view of Windsor. (In the sense that, if I went on to my roof, climbed a very tall ladder, and looked through a 20-foot periscope I could probably see Windsor Castle. On a clear day, anyway.)
We've been promised an election soon, too, but I'm baffled. The main parties seem to be courting the maternity vote, with Labour promising to extend maternity leave from six months to nine, and the Tories promising to grant another £50 in maternity pay. The Liberal Dems have all offered to babysit on Saturday nights.
There's other spatting going on, like whether or not we should take Jamie Oliver's advice and feed school kids healthy food instead of something called "Turkey Twizzlers," but no one's talking about IMPORTANT issues, like gay marriage and war medals. (In a country where not even the crown prince can marry the love of his life in the church, do you really think they're going to let Bob marry Nigel?)
Speaking of Jamie, it's Wednesday, and food blogging awaits. Later, we'll revisit the Windsors. But not until the weather clears up.
