Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Space Hoppers and Guinea Pigs - Wild!

If you've been reading this blog you know that from time to time I get encouraged to have fun by means of various piggies. These are photographed on cards and sent by my niece.

This time the card shows two guinea pigs cavorting around on space hoppers, (I kid you not), who are telling me that,


Being of a forgiving nature I will ignore the suggestion of this bon mot that I am really over the hill, because yet again Kate has set me thinking.
She knows me well enough to know that my "fun" is of the old fashioned sort.
Even if I can sing, dance, and make a fool of myself without the aid of drink or drugs I am most probably tame by the standards of today, so, fearful that I may have missed out on something, I looked up just what fun is actually meant to be.

(You can tell me if you feel I'm over-thinking this).

Unsurprisingly "fun" covers those activities that are enjoyable or amusing.
You could say I'm o.k. on that score as there is much that I find not only enjoyable, and amusing, but positively joyous. Still, as a line from a recent television play said," "I was born before pleasure became compulsory".

What I'm getting at I suppose is the question, do I need to tap into some repressed side of myself that should be given an airing before it's too late.
(Yes. I am definitely over-thinking this).

I have been giving the question some thought these last two days as I have been removing the little grey overcoats of dust that have accumulated on every surface whilst I've been poorly.

(Hubby is very good at keeping food on the table and applying a certain amount of TLC but dusting and hoovering come a long way down his priority list).


Perhaps my need to bring my surroundings back to the required standards of house keeping which have been with me from my youth testifies to my inherent dullness; i.e. lack of the desired "fun" quotient.

The result of my thinking so deeply about this is that I was in danger of coming up empty. Just couldn't think of anything attainable that I might still give a whirl to enhance, or even find, my "wild" side .

Hating heights as I do , I can still confess I'd quite like,- emphasise quite like-, to do a parachute drop, or go paragliding, but surely these are on everybody's fantasy wish list. Probably saying that I'd quite like to do these things isn't the quite the right word. Maybe saying I'd be scared s----less and adrenaline rushed, would be a better way of describing it.

Dull again!

Water-wise I find swimming a length in a fairly small pool is a stretch but yes, come to think of it I'd like the chance to go white water rafting. But wait, there's something I know is probably beyond my physical capacity, but seems to me to be a wonderfully exciting fun thing, - wild river swimming!
Saw it on the television and it looks tremendous.

It involves getting into a wet suit, then into a river and letting yourself go with the pull of the current...
Wow! That's my idea of "wild".
(Kate! stop laughing I can hear you from here).

Admittedly you need expert knowledge of currents, water conditions, wild life, permissions from the land owners, ( which in this country means they own the river too and you can't go in their patch of water without their say so), and the ability to survive by your swimming skills.
O.k. It was just a thought. But can you imagine what it feels like...

Oh well, I'll just have to go back to laughing myself silly trying on the fashion wear at Primark I suppose, but for just a moment there I could hear the wild water in my ears, and feel the cold grasp of the river through my wet suit. But no, I know when I'm beaten.

I give up again! I'm too tame by half.

God Bless

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