Tiny

It’s the little things in life that get me.

On a friend’s blog there is someone (I do not know personally) who uses a small three letter word an awful lot; a sort of ’listen to me’, an unpleasant nudge.

It annoys me.

English is not my first language so I consulted my son on this just now. Well educated as he is he explained to me all the ways how that word can be interpreted. He also confirmed my fear that, when you don’t have a person right in front of you or on the phone, virtual interpretation is your own.

Since much better versed in the ways of how to communicate in the anonymous world of the web Felix gave me his advice on this particular issue:

“Mama, just chuck the computer out of the window and live life”

I’ll try.

U

The anthill

A friend of mine has made it a habit of moving to dwellings right next to an alcoholic. Since she herself does not drink it might tell you something about her. Not so good for the alcoholic, but good for her since, contrary to perceived wisdom, alcoholics are on the whole pretty chilled; who wouldn’t be, looking at life through the magnifying end of a thick glass.

I, on the other hand, always land myself with a neighbour heavily into cars. It’s happened again: A man and his friend either lovingly polishing or their head under the bonnet. As hobbies go, I suppose it could be worse, like spearing butterflies in the privacy of your study, or going on ebay trying to find that elusive stamp.

There is a column in one the weekend papers about what women don’t understand about men. I don’t read it because it’s too stupid for words. The guy is so self absorbed he can barely see beyond his own eyes. And not once has he covered the subject of the bond between man and his motor. Mind you, watch Top Gear, the big Jeremy Clarkson and his side kicks, and all you want to be is German. Even Citroen – in the advert for their new creation – has now borrowed, nay stolen, the credentials of German engineering.

Still stylishly French, of course. And yes, I do drive a Citroen.

U