This week I:
- Refused to try to win at Monopoly because I'm usually a Socialist and it feels like something I ought to do, at least when playing a board game with my family who actually know my leftist leanings and neither agree with them nor care.
- Found a parking space across the road from the dentist while transporting my daughter to an emergency appointment. It was bitterly cold and town was very busy. She left her scarf in the car, however, after I specifically told her to wear it as it gives the appearance of good mothering when she's all wrapped up. In the waiting room there was a very small girl with tinsel in her hair. We agreed she looked like a cyborg. The small girl took her coat off without being asked as soon as her name was called. I don't know if that's a helpful talent in this weather.
- Drove home down the promenade after dark, distracted by the twinkly lights. I remembered that I love Blackpool out of season and made a mental note to go on North Pier this weekend. Two ideas for poems occurred to me during Wednesday's drive. By Wednesday night they'd grown into first drafts. One is short and riddlish, the other inspired by Carol Ann Duffy and Malcolm Tucker. I'm anticipating editing them at some point.
- Prayed to any deity listening to let me write for jezebel.com before thanking the aforementioned supernatural beings for the euphemism 'vampire teabags' and sharing the new phrase with my sisters, thus making myself seem both hilarious and brave, or so I assume.
- Snuggled under my duvet with the electric blanket on its highest setting while sipping an Irish Redbush tea and reading. I read a little more of The End of Mr Y by Scarlett Thomas (as recommended by Lisa) and I read a few poems on the Poetry Foundation App. One of these was Dirty Face by Shel Silverstein.
- Ate brussel sprouts and I'd do it again because farts are supposed to smell like that.
- Rebelled on the Dead Good Blog. Tell people I'm enjoying Christmas poems will you? We'll see about that.
