Dizzojay's Dean Dreams

 I'm having a birthday tomorrow, and one of my lovely work colleagues bought me this:



She knows me so well! 
I can't guarantee it smells exactly like him, but until I get the chance again to manhandle our lovely boy (and maybe have a good sniff), this is a great substitute!!

I don't know how many of you have, like me, jumped on the Wordle bandwagon, but I couldn't help thinking that the solution a couple of days ago made me think of someone who features quite often at this journal.

I can't imagine why...

So today I did the first day of my first aid requalification.  (I have to redo it every three years to keep the qualification live).

Never let it be said that first aid isn't glamorous ...

Summer is finally upon us here in the UK, so Mr D and I have been spending large parts of the day out in the garden over this week.

We have a bird feeding station in the garden which gives us enormous amounts of entertaiment, and not just from feathered friends; we have a healthy population of squirrels that pay us visits most days; we know of at least three separate individuals, but they all have one thing in common...

They all make eating a few nuts look like Cirque du Soleil.

Welcome to Cirque du Squirrelle!



I put my back out just watching them!

Yesterday was a six-hour mini GISH event, and I decided, after the intensity and emotion of the last few weeks, that a little bit of light relief was maybe just what the doctor ordered!

So, a little ragtag band of us comprised of two of my JIB buddies and blackrabbit42 were merged with five delightful german ladies, and we sallied forth and GISHed our little hearts our for six hours.  Now the event ran from 11 am - 5 pm Pacific time, which meant it ran from 7pm - 1 am here in the UK, and I can honestly say it's one of the first times in my life I was painting my face and playing with my Funko Pop minis at midnight.  But, hey-ho, it's all part of Life's great tapestry, right?




Here's Jensen and me mentally preparing ourself for the event!

Overall, I managed to complete four items, and here they are:

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Mr D and I went for a walk around our local country park yesterday, and walked past a Willow tree, one of many trees on the bank of one of the lakes.

Me: I love Willow trees, they always look so peaceful and serene.
Mr D: I like that one in Harry Potter that beats the shit out of people...

This afternoon, I sent a quick Fb message to all my Kiwi chums just checking that they were all okay following the news of the big earthquake and the Tsunami warning off the east coast of New Zealand's north island.

New Zealand is a stunningly beautiful country but it does have some serious 'tude.  Think, the geological equivalent of a spotty teenager!

With typical Kiwi aplomb, they all responded, letting me know they were all fine; my friends near Wellington decided the earthquake wasn't worth getting out of bed for, and another friend from Napier bemoaned the fact that the quake had the audacity to wake him up for five minutes.

I said, 'think yourself lucky, my bladder does that every night', and he responded that the shake would have definitely got the bladder going.

I couldn't help but think yes, especially in all us Brits who live in a country with moderate climate, moderate weather, moderate topography and a tectonic landscape like a mobility scooter, who have never experienced a meaningful quake in our entire life!!!

Now, that would be the real Tsunami warning!!!

And so for today's offering, I give you 12 minutes of our gorgeous, adorkable Dean doing what he does best...
(and of course, we get bonus lovely Sam and Cas too)!

I had a phone call last week from an old family friend, Carol,  who I haven't actually seen for about eight years.

We had a nice catch up chat, then got to the crux of the reason why she called.  Could I do her a big favour?  She's an old friend of my Mum's, so of course, I was happy to help.

Anyway, our conversation went thus:

Carol:  "I work with this guy who's a real practical joker.  Honestly, he's an absolute sod.  So me and a few of the girls want to get a bit of payback, and we've bought an inflatable woman and we're going to blow it up and plant it in his locker."
Me:  "Riiiight..."
Carol: "Anyway, we thought it would be fun to write a saucy little poem to put with it for when he opens his locker."
Me: "Okay."
Carol: "But none of us can do that.  I remember a couple of the funny poems you've written, and I really like them, so I wondered if you'd mind doing a little poem for the inflatable woman to 'give' to this guy?"
Me: "Well, I like a challenge!"
Carol: "Oh that would be great, I'd really appreciate it! You can make it as funny and rude as you like."
Me: When you say 'rude', are we talking 'filthy' rude, or 'Carry-on film' tits and bums innuendo rude?"
Carol: "Entirely up to you!"


So, apparently I've been commissioned to write a poem fro the POV of an inflatable woman.

Because, as i said, my life is never normal...

So, before I share the poem back with Carol tomorrow, I thought I'd share it with you guys:


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