I love you, Anonymous. I'm going to call you Kenike from now on. I'm pretty sure that that's not how you spell Kenike, but let's not split hairs.
It's more an Eeyore kind of day, but I can't stop thinking about Charlie Brown.
This is not insurmountable, and in some ways, it's better that I'm working in the Peace Cafe (Castle Road, Southsea, for all your internet, buddhist, coffee and herbal tea needs), even though I would rather be snuggled up under a blanket in my new round wicker chair. The wicker chair in my bedroom is my new favourite place to be. Since I got that chair, I rarely want to be anywhere else. Sometimes, when company arrive, I resent their presence because secretly I want to be back in my chair.
Does this make me a hermit? Does this make me old? Does this mean I was a cat in my past life? I'm definitely a bitch in this one, in Vedic astrological terms only, of course.
Cafe customers come in fits and starts.
I am grateful this morning for one of my best friends, Heather, and for one of the PC Irregulars, Stephen. They talk Charlie Brown and Healys with me for an hour, while Scottish John sits in the back room, occasionally giggling. at our conversations.
"Did Charlie Brown ever get to kiss the little red haired girl?" I ask Heather.
She Googles it.
"Yes, in an episode called 'It's Your First Kiss, Charlie Brown, in 1977," she replies, with authority.
"Was Linus the one who played the piano?" I ask.
"No, he had a comfort blanket," comments Stephen, over his open Guardian, "He wouldn't have been able to play the piano and carry the blanket."
He takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
"I know he had a blanket, but I thought maybe he put it down to play, like maybe that was the only time he didn't need it. You know, like that brain surgeon with Tourettes."
Stephen chokes on his peppermint tea and from the back room comes the sound of John, gently laughing.
"You're very inquisitive today, Sarah," John observes.
"You say inquisitive where others say annoying," I answer glumly.
"Endearing," he rebukes.
"It was Schroeder on the piano," says Heather and points to a Google image of him.
"I liked him. Not as much as Charlie Brown, but a close second," I tell everyone.
"Did you want to be the little red haired girl?" asks Stephen.
"No," says Heather, with her back to him, "I'm a brunette."
"Er, I was asking Sarah," he points out.
"That would make more sense," she answers, "Sarah's actually got red hair."
Stephen looks at me.
"Yes," I say sadly, "I always wanted to be the little red haired girl."
It's more an Eeyore kind of day, but I can't stop thinking about Charlie Brown.
This is not insurmountable, and in some ways, it's better that I'm working in the Peace Cafe (Castle Road, Southsea, for all your internet, buddhist, coffee and herbal tea needs), even though I would rather be snuggled up under a blanket in my new round wicker chair. The wicker chair in my bedroom is my new favourite place to be. Since I got that chair, I rarely want to be anywhere else. Sometimes, when company arrive, I resent their presence because secretly I want to be back in my chair.
Does this make me a hermit? Does this make me old? Does this mean I was a cat in my past life? I'm definitely a bitch in this one, in Vedic astrological terms only, of course.
Cafe customers come in fits and starts.
I am grateful this morning for one of my best friends, Heather, and for one of the PC Irregulars, Stephen. They talk Charlie Brown and Healys with me for an hour, while Scottish John sits in the back room, occasionally giggling. at our conversations.
"Did Charlie Brown ever get to kiss the little red haired girl?" I ask Heather.
She Googles it.
"Yes, in an episode called 'It's Your First Kiss, Charlie Brown, in 1977," she replies, with authority.
"Was Linus the one who played the piano?" I ask.
"No, he had a comfort blanket," comments Stephen, over his open Guardian, "He wouldn't have been able to play the piano and carry the blanket."
He takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
"I know he had a blanket, but I thought maybe he put it down to play, like maybe that was the only time he didn't need it. You know, like that brain surgeon with Tourettes."
Stephen chokes on his peppermint tea and from the back room comes the sound of John, gently laughing.
"You're very inquisitive today, Sarah," John observes.
"You say inquisitive where others say annoying," I answer glumly.
"Endearing," he rebukes.
"It was Schroeder on the piano," says Heather and points to a Google image of him.
"I liked him. Not as much as Charlie Brown, but a close second," I tell everyone.
"Did you want to be the little red haired girl?" asks Stephen.
"No," says Heather, with her back to him, "I'm a brunette."
"Er, I was asking Sarah," he points out.
"That would make more sense," she answers, "Sarah's actually got red hair."
Stephen looks at me.
"Yes," I say sadly, "I always wanted to be the little red haired girl."
2 comments:
Let’s have a party with Charlie Brown and Snoopy,
We can go dancing with Linus and Lucy.
Put on a smile and stay for a while,
Come on let’s dance around with Snoopy and Charlie Brown.
Woodstock'll whistle, Sally will be singing,
Marcie and Peppermint Patty will be swinging.
Kick up your feet, in time with the beat,
Come on let’s dance around with Snoopy and Charlie Brown.
Now we've got the beat,
Get up and dance those happy feet,
We're dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing,
With Snoopy's happy feet.
Freda and Franklin, even little Rerun,
Bounce back with Snoopy, everybody's having fun.
Let's not go home yet, if we stick around,
Maybe that red-haired girl will come and dance with Charlie Brown.
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http://www.darkarts-defence.com/uk/home_dvd.aspx
try these
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