The Hairy Caterpillar and other stories…

I have been on planet Zorg this week.

After a couple of actually very good weeks and even better weekends I have been reminded once again that life is never that smooth for that long.

The only thing keeping me relatively sane is work.  It just keeps me occupied and of course I have my buddies, who to be fair really don’t get enough credit for the shit they have to put have with.

It has been an odd week.  I am back in the throes of many a conversation with many a man and it is wearing me out, truth be told.  It could be wearing the buddies out a whole lot quicker though.  Truthfully I don’t know how they cope.

It is hard to describe the buddies, they are different but the same. They each bring a different outlook to any given situation but overall their morals and opinions are basically the same. The three of us are like looser versions of each other, with me being the loosest, I mean that in lots of different ways not just sexually, the buddies are very happily married, I should add.

Once again this week I found myself heavily engaged with someone, let’s call him Mr E.

Mr E was ticking all the boxes. Though this always seems the case in the beginning.  Our conversation was a slow burner to start with but eventually we agreed to swap numbers and then it was all systems go, suddenly.

Unfortunately, as I write, I haven’t heard from Mr E since Friday afternoon.  We were making plans to meet Saturday, so I expect you can guess what happened, yes that’s right, absolutely nothing.

He became a Ghost…

There may be more about him later, when I feel I can talk about it without using every profanity available in one sentence.

Fortunately there have also been some laugh out loud moments this week.

The best one by a country mile, was when a patient came in to the surgery to inform us that we had hairy caterpillars in our bush.

Having a male patient say quite loudly, “Did you know you have hairy caterpillars in your bush?” Is something you can’t quite be prepared for.  Laugh.  Oh my God did we. We laughed all day long.  Every mention from there on in of hairy caterpillars and bushes and the whole office was in fits of giggles.

Now these are not any ordinary hairy caterpillars they have been on the BBC News no less, hence the excitement.

They were also very hungry and had already eaten most of said bush.

Dutifully I went out to inspect the bushes and did indeed see lots of hairy caterpillars, who were investing heavily in their preparations for becoming Moths.  I took some photos, as requested by the patient, as it would need to be reported to the authorities, apparently.


The offending critters!

I did report it to the authorities, eventually.  Or I have at least tried.  It took me three whole days and more research than should really be necessary for such a small creature, to even find out who to report it to.  Three times my email to three different addresses given by the forestry commission’s website bounced back as undeliverable.

Really, I’m quite happy for the little critters to stay put.  The effort that is required to report them far out ways the probability of anything actually being done with them.

As yet I have had no response whatever, So it looks like the hairy caterpillars are here to stay.  Let’s hope they don’t turn in to killer moths.

I can see it now;  killer moths attack 400 local residents! 

Imagine being responsible for that.  Ok, maybe that’s a little dramatic.

Thursday I had my hair done.  I am very lucky to have a friend do my hair.  There are not many things I am precious about but my hair is one of them.  To say I am particular is an understatement.

I make much fuss and nonsense about my hair but generally it always looks the same.  I sometimes have a fringe and sometimes don’t but otherwise that is about as adventurous as it gets I’m afraid.  I am uncomfortable with hairdressers,  in fact the last time I went to an actual hairdressing salon it was just before my 30th birthday, some 15 years or so ago now.  Jesus, where did that go…?

I just don’t like them, I’m a little bit funny about people being too up close and personal,  and before you think it, sex is different, anyway the endless chit-chat drives me nuts as well.

Laura, my lovely friend and hairdresser (just in case she reads this *wink) has been doing most of the family hair for ages now and Thursday Mum and I were booked in, at Mum’s.  Despite my hair OCD, I do not have it cut very often and am not an every 6 weeks kind of girl, so we always have lots to catch up on and there is usually lots of chat and laughter.

I think I have mentioned before that my parent’s house is full of treats, it is a diabetic’s nightmare.  Laura who is also partial to a sweet or three was digging in to the sweet jar when Mother announced that Father had spent the previous evening noshing a stick of rock all night.

Noshing a stick of rock, really?

While Laura and I rolled around on the carpet in stitches, Mother was trying her best to fathom out what it was that had tickled us so much.

Like two naughty schoolgirls we couldn’t even stop laughing for long enough to try to explain and when we did we just ended up laughing all over again.

Trying to explain that the term noshing is probably not a particularly appropriate one these days as it’s more urban meaning describes something very different, was one of those rare ‘had to be there moments’.  Mother was of course horrified and couldn’t understand at all why the word had been linked to such a thing.  Quite simply nosh is food.  No.  It really isn’t.

While we are loosely on the subject of all things carnal it has been a while since I have had sex.  Yes, I did say that out loud.  I have taken a keen interest in porn.  This does not help though when you are not getting any yourself, it only increases the desire to get some.

Porn is far, far better now than it once was, the days of manufactured porn are pretty much over, although there are still some very obviously staged performances but most people (and when I say most people I do mean most people), watch the amateur stuff, home videos if you like.  It is massive, if you’ll pardon the pun.

I expect people will have very mixed views about porn as they do about most subjects but really, over all and believe me I am no expert but it seems that everyone is doing it.  As with everything that is accessible to you online these days there is a very wide variety of topics and every little idiosyncrasy is catered for and then some.

I never really thought I was a big fan of porn, I mean I have watched it obviously, both in and out of relationships and never really been overly turned on by it but now it is a whole new ball game.  Well it’s not new, it’s age-old but this is all new version is new to me and I like it.

I am at an age where I am allowed to feel liberated.  It is very much ones man’s drink is another man’s poison but I really would recommend it if you haven’t had a browse for a while, or if you have never had a browse.  Try it.  You might like it, if nothing else it may give you a few ideas.  *wink

Back in the real world we are ending the week with a football injury.   Yes, we are still going.  I know, every week I say I think this is the last week but I have been hoodwinked. It was never the last week at all.  It was the last game of the season as far as the fixtures go but now we have all the tournaments, there are 4 no less.  Today was the first, it was hosted by us.  It was long and it was an early start and there was lots of waiting around and then just when things got going, Tom got injured.

Yesterday it rained all day long, so of course today that made for a very soggy pitch indeed.  However, It did start well, one game up and on to the second and half way through the first half he came out for a save and with one foot forward for the ball and one foot sliding backwards in the mud, he split his difference.  A groin injury.  Hoorah and he didn’t even save the goal.  Humph!

He tried to carry on, bless him, while I was shouting at him to work through the pain as only a child bearer can but at half time he admitted defeat.  He limped off and we went to find the first aid tent.  A couple of paracetamol and an ice pack later he was on the subs bench and that is where he remained.

On the plus side it did mean we could leave slightly earlier than originally planned (this was to be an all day event), as Elsie is slowly becoming a football widow-child, having spent the last few Sundays on her own indoors.

Lucky her!

Tom is still milking his football injury for all it is worth, hobbling around the house demanding sustenance.

Perhaps he has got the makings of a professional footballer after all?  😉


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