Life In The Fastidious Lane

Well the festive season is all over bar the shouting, which we shouldn’t have too long to wait for. That will most likely commence later this afternoon when Karen finds out I’ve inadvertently deleted her Christmas Day recording of TV drama Call The Midwife…… Never mind, I’m sure she’ll be able to find it on BBC iPlayer.

Dans la maison de Strachan, the yuletide tree has been taken down ready for tomorrows disposal at a local garden centre. Ornaments and associated accoutrements have been packaged in a hurried and slipshod fashion, prior to its earlier return into the loft.

They will remain there hibernating until December 2017, Not seeing the light until when I reopen the hatch, when I’ll no doubt rue not wrapping them more fastidiously as they fall from their boxes onto my head.

This morning I finally finished a big box of wine gums my son bought me as a festive gift. The last one, blackberry of flavour and covered in fluff after I dropped it on the living room carpet, disappeared into my cake hole around the time I wrote the word fastidiously above.

My third half litre glass of tap water was imbibed immediately after utilising the term fastidiously for a second time, in the paragraph above.

For a reason I’m unaware of, I appear to be using the word fastidiously more than normal in this monologue. Further inexplicably, it’s also apparent my use of the word coincides with my consumption of liquid and confectionery sustenance.

That is aside from the third and fourth use of the adverb above, where I couldn’t carry on the trend as I’m now bereft of wine gums and water.

Following the holiday season bidding us farewell, my mind has turned to the plethora of chores I need to undertake this year. For a start, I need to buy more wine gums to accompany my use of the word fastidiously.

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2017, well Karen really, has bestowed on me a parchment scroll ‘To Do’ list. It boasts the longevity of Tolkien’s Lord of The Rings but with less hobbits….. Well actually no hobbits to be more accurate.

This list, written in blood from a hand injury I sustained on my last ‘To Do’ task of 2016 (sharpening my pencil in a bacon slicer), contains chores with various degrees of difficulty for yours truly. These range from simple paint jobs, such as flawlessly copying Da Vinci’s The Last Supper, to the more challenging task of losing my cynicism.

I’m not complaining at the magnitude of these chores, after all I did say to my missus that I wanted challenges to be take me out of my comfort zone. That being said…. Losing my cynicism?…… Come on Karen, give me a break!

On a quick scan of this parchment of challenges, I notice Karen has written ‘Don’t overuse the word fastidiously in your blogs’….. She must have foreseen me running out of wine gums, when she penned this formidable list.

My other half is sitting next to me as I bring this blog to its conclusion. She has a tired look today, not enhanced by a grey pallor…… That’ll teach her to sit up all night transcribing a shed load of jobs for me on ancient writing paper!

Anyway, I must dash as I have a lion taming lesson in half an hour. If it doesn’t go well, thanks for spending time reading my work…… Oh, and could you tell my brother Ian that my 1970’s retro leather coat he’s got his eye on is in our garage.

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