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So, Charlie and me, we had another cup of tea…

by on December 2, 2012

Better known these days for his Doctor Who appearances, Bernard Cribbins was a noted comedian in the 1960s, and this is a line from ‘Right, said Fred’, his spoof on removal men.  If you haven’t heard it go and look for it, because it is hilarious.  So why has it been on my mind today?

Like eveyone else, I have occasionally pondered the question of the existence -or not- of God.  And without wishing to intrude upon anyone’s sensibilities or beliefs, I have come down on the side of ‘Not’, and offer the following evidence.  According to received wisdom, God made the universe etc etc etc in six days, then rested.  That’s the problem, right there. Not a chance.  On the seventh day he was up to his eyes in the snagging list, the central heating boiler had broken down at sparrow burp and he had already blown his chances of a peaceful retirement by designing humans.  Oh, and he’d been so busy during the week that he’d forgotten to get the shopping in, and the state of his working clothes was disgusting.  Rest? No chance.

Writing is an act of creation, isn’t it? Before I started typing, the motley cast of characters I have assembled/lumbered myself with/cast like pearls before your eyes (delete according to taste) existed, where? Perhaps in the dim recesses of my mind, or possibly in something incomprehensible to anyone but Doctor Sheldon Cooper and involving the multiple use of the word ‘quantum’, which no one really understands but which seems to make everything right. Exactly like the word ‘sorry’, which should therefore be a viable alternative to quantum, but isn’t.

Anyway, desperately clawing my way back on track, creating isn’t easy.  As a single parent, I have various duties and responsibilities aside from meeting the deadlines imposed with a cattle prod by my publisher.  As anyone who sees my Facebook/Twitter posts knows, living with a teenager isn’t always easy, and can take up a lot of mental energy.  So Sunday is often a day I would like to devote to enjoying my creation.  Instead, I so often seem to spend it cleaning house, doing the washing (teenager’s mother has her access time at the weekend, and I get access to said teenager’s bedroom.  ‘Nuff said), the shopping and invariably on freezing cold mornings, stripping the central heating boiler and tempting it back into life.  Why does the burner jet only clog up when the Outside Air Temperature falls below freezing?  That’s probably due to quantum as well, since the boiler has never said ‘sorry’ to me.

So, a day of rest?  No chance.  Still, the boiler is running again, gulping down copious quantities of fiendishly expensive heating oil.  If there is a hell ( which I have no reason to believe in either) then I hope they don’t run on heating oil.  If they do, there are probably legions of demons patrolling the supermarkets on a daily basis, frantically buying lottery tickets in the hope of winning a big enough jackpot to pay for the next fuel delivery.  Now, what do I do next? Marketing? Work on this radio script \I’ve been planning for a few weeks?  The sequel? The other sequel? Do some marketing?

I know, I’ll have another cup of tea.


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  1. Sounds like your fingers are itching to get at the keyboard… until you actually sit down to type and than the Great Procrastinator, in whom I fervently believe and who never seems to procrastinate when it comes to the business of getting me to put things off, strikes you with his um… thingy.

    Good luck anyway.



    • Just to say that procrastination is far too easy. Suddenly I have discovered just how much other stuff I have to do and the book is sitting, glaring at me, defying me to get to work on it again.

  2. rebeccadouglass permalink

    Love this one!

    M T, your comments is pretty square on, too.

  3. rebeccadouglass permalink

    Oh, yeah. My washer is having snits and when I turned off the water faucet to mess with it, it made the faucet start leaking. Now I have to go out in the rain, shut off water to the whole house, take the faucet apart, run to the hardware store for parts (still in the rain), put it all back together, and repeat X times.

  4. rebeccadouglass permalink

    Wouldn’t mind so much if this didn’t mean getting wet for sure. AND I spent a bunch of time on it yesterday. Plus one of the curtain thingies (that pulls curtains back and forth) has also decided to go all squiffy on me. I seem to be attracting domestic disasters lately.

  5. Reblogged this on willmacmillanjones and commented:

    I’m repeating this because I seem to be repeating the experience.

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