Micro Gods, Raffles and Nelson Mandela

Today has been a bit of a stressful day well it was a stressful morning anyway, and it has to do with the well known saying . . . . God moves in Mysterious Ways . . . .  And as I have adopted a religion based on Micro Gods and there are millions of them this saying means things get seriously Mysterious. You see I was abandoned in the local village hall Friday market to sell raffle tickets to the public for the local church; well that is all well and good but it involved writing telephone numbers down while taking money and giving change, plus remembering names.  I am not good at things like this, it can be hard enough to remember who I am myself and I don’t know my telephone number yet at home, even after two years and as for my mobile telephone number I have had since I was knee high to a grass hopper and I don’t even have a remote clue. To me knowing your mobile number is silly since I never ring myself.

 I am not entirely convinced that the local vicar approves of Micro Gods and sacrificing sausages to Barbaqueuesium the Micro God of village raffles and charcoal on a temporary alter in the vestry. Anyway I got well confused and called everyone the wrong name, but I did buy someone a woolly cat (sorry hat), ate bacon and bought three small cakes, well one of them has vanished now (I ate it) so two small cakes.

While on the subject of things vanishing I notice Nelson Mandela died yesterday, he was a well thought of leader which in this day and age is rather unusual.  He had a long tough battle to get to where he was, and as far as I can tell seemed like a fair chap who did not hold grudges or put his own interests or fame and glory first, in other words much like myself. Of course my chance of becoming a countries leader are even less likely than would have seemed possible even when Mr Mandela was locked up in prison, this is how fate works. I will just have to battle away at the world in my diary and hope that the very nice Steven Spielberg chap finally gives in and pays the one hundred and twenty two pounds and fifty pence for the film rights; yes it seems like a lot but he is quite rich.

Ooooo I have played with the new camera and can take pictures that make no sense . . . . Much like myself. . . . . WELL COOL, actually it is rather cold.

Oooooo (again) the flooding was not as bad as it was predicted although if you have a flooded house it is still not nice although it is probably even more annoying when all the press turn up to photograph your home when has slipped over a cliff, poor old Mr Richard I hope he recovers . . . . . . . . Mum has just shouted IDIOT? 

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