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Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Why did the bear cross the road?

Bear Crossing
To get away from my sister.

I'll be in terrible trouble when she finds out I'm wantonly posting her photos before she's even written a blog post. But hey, I've had a sedative this week. My judgement's severely impaired, and I can't be held responsible.

Anyhoo, the good news is that I'm still alive and eligible for a visit from the tooth fairy. I feel my dentist slightly mis-sold the treatment to me, stating that the sedative would "make you feel like you've had twenty vodkas", insisting that I wouldn't be allowed to walk the 200 yards home, telling me that "most people do not have any memory of treatment", and giving my Mum his home phone number in case I died in the night.

As it turned out, I felt more woozy looking at the Weymouth Whitewater speedboat ride than I did after this sedative, and it was all over so quickly that they were bundling me into the back of a taxi five minutes after the first injection. I think my dentist had somewhere important to go. But I got to spend the rest of the day sitting on the sofa watching DVDs while my Mum (who was my official carer for the eight hours I was supposedly without skill and judgement) fetched me cups of sweet tea, ably assisted by Lisa, who started off quite enthusiastic, but by 10:30pm was asking me to get her drinks.

It was all far less bloody and traumatic than I envisaged, although the toothless crater at the back of my mouth is still quite tender, so I'm trying to stretch out the sympathy til the end of the week.

I felt quite drained and lethargic yesterday, possibly due to the crashing comedown from the sugar-high brought on by too many cups of sweet tea, but that didn't stop me going out yesterday afternoon and buying a banjo ukulele. They weren't kidding when they said my judgement would be impaired.

Nobody mention George Formby.I got it in the Sussex Beacon charity shop for twenty-five quid, which included a case, tuner, spare set of strings, and a book to teach you how to play Auld Langsyne. Which is not a song I immediately associate with the banjolele. The gay couple who sold it to me said it had only been brought in that morning, and the chap who'd donated it had made them promise it would go to a good home. So I in turn had to swear that I'd look after it and wouldn't flog it down Cash Converters the moment I left the shop.

Which is a shame, because it could be an antique. The maker is G Houghton & Sons (G H & S), a British banjo manufacturer whose factory, according to this website, closed down in 1962. Making it at least 45 years old. Which is older than Lisa. Anyway, as a jack of all stringed instruments (and master of none), I soon picked up a few chords, and by 8pm was merrily strumming 'My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean' while Lisa was trying to watch 'How to Look Good Naked'.

As it turns out though, my competency on the banjo ukulele pales into insignificance next to Lisa's skill as an all round competent person. She finally received this certificate yesterday for completing a fire safety course a month ago...

Incompetent Person
It was a two-day course which began on April 30th and concluded the following day. Unfortunately her examiner appears to have a month missing from his calendar. So much for competent persons.