Friday, 1 March 2013
Music and the archaeological dig for shins
We are off to a little shindig tonight at a village hall with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane, I assume by the name it must be some sort of archaeological dig for shins . . . . AH mum has said IDIOT and that it is a musical shindig? To me that’s sounds even stranger if we are searching for shins I would like to know how we are meant to tell a musical one from an ordinary everyday one . . . . . AH mum has said IDIOT again . . . . . . . . Oooooooooo hang on mum is explaining. . . . . . . . . . . .WHAT?
So exactly how can a shindig be a small musical event in a village hall in the wilds of the Welsh border hills, who came up with that name it completely misleading.
The point is though, I have very little time to write and may not be in a position to write when I return as it will probably be later and I will be tired. Not from leaping about because I fall over if I try doing that, and not from drinking as I don’t drink, what with being the Young Eccentric Child of cyberspace, more as the result of digging a long defensive trench between us and the wood to the side of our house as the zombies are moving about what with the first signs of spring and the like.
OK that’s it for now as I am not allowed to go to a shindig covered in mud so must go and de-mud myself. . . . . . . . . .