tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82480962024-09-17T01:19:00.403+01:00<center><i>You need to be one to understand the concept.<br>Suffice it to say, being one doesn't fit in well with marriage, kids, jobs, or even life.<br>Just as well this particular Eccentric Bohemian Hermit has a sense of humour ... </i><p></center>Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-30463443573524108612008-06-25T07:10:00.007+01:002008-06-25T07:20:34.500+01:00

Recently I went upstairs to where my teenage daughter was lounging on her bed talking to friends on MSN in a very strange language and handed her a bowl of profiteroles dripping in chocolate sauce.She responded with: "Ooh! Profiteroles! Sick bean!"If anyone could explain the last two words, I would be extremely grateful. And yes, I did ask said daughter, but she couldn't help.Google Mood Ring (

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-40065212349332912282008-03-17T06:59:00.000+00:002008-03-17T07:59:48.556+00:00

A week ago my daughter's boyfriend bought her a new laptop. In theory, it's better than my desktop and also cost more. Twice as much RAM, multi-core ... but the in-built graphics STINK. Anything more than a teeny-weeny picture and it gets so hot and bothered I could brown toast on the heat coming out of it.However, that isn't the point. Said daughter has gone away for a couple of weeks and

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-69858723418825827602008-02-07T17:15:00.000+00:002008-02-07T18:51:43.366+00:00

Being a hermit is all very well if one lives alone or with other hermits. It becomes a huge problem, however, when one shares one's home with a teenage daugher who is so extrovert she makes Madonna look like a shy, retiring wallflower.Whenever she arrives home from school I hear her voice as she walks up the path. Either she's talking to someone on her mobile, or to someone walking next to her.

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-54531946170112394612007-11-23T17:08:00.000+00:002007-11-23T18:09:35.346+00:00

Well, I seem to have disappeared again, at least from this blog. People keep sending me messages enquiring as to my whereabouts. I did think of replying in some sort of alien language, pretending I was a creature from another planet who had abducted me, but decided against it. Eccentric is one thing, totally insane is quite another. What have I been doing since I was last here? Well, for one

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-83977140787916093152007-08-19T19:20:00.001+01:002008-03-17T08:02:56.204+00:00

Well, it's been a while. Quite a few silly things have happened to me since my last entry, but I can't remember any of them now. Maybe they will come to me.I do remember something relating to the last entry, although it wasn't anything silly. Just me forgetting about the no-smoking ban in cafes and having to traipse down the street carrying a plastic cup full of coffee so I could sit in the park

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-7542032976083634792007-07-01T14:56:00.000+01:002007-08-19T19:38:12.600+01:00

Well, today's the day. Yes, from today a certain section of people in the UK are being mercilessly victimised and forced to live like smelly, parasitic entities from a lower spiritual plane. In other words, today is the day that smokers can no longer smoke in public places. I didn't even know about this until my 10-year-old son told me about it a week or so ago.There's more to it than that and

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-59792962578395863952007-06-24T14:08:00.000+01:002007-08-19T19:37:42.789+01:00

So I finally get my blog accepted for this silly thing that is supposed to earn me money if I wax lyrical about products I've used (or products I pretend I've used) and things like that, but there's this problem. Out of 93 open 'opportunities', the only one I qualify for is talking about the site offering the opportunities and telling everyone how wonderful it is and how much money I've made from

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-23768532234242081212007-05-13T04:52:00.000+01:002007-05-13T05:02:06.311+01:00

OK, so I am somewhat miffed. Before my 2-year hiatus from this blog, it had a 5/10 Google rating. When I came back, it was down to 4/10. How it managed to stay that high for two totally unposted years is more than slightly puzzling. However, now that I am back, it has suddenly gone down to 3/10.Does this mean my blog does better without me posting anything on it? Perhaps I should just shut-up

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-87946855243228243542007-04-27T15:57:00.000+01:002007-04-27T17:28:10.713+01:00

Lots of things irritate me, on account of how I am easily irritated. Most of all, I am irritated by stupidity, especially stupidity caused by lack of attention to obvious detail. No more is this demonstrated than in my total aversion to the misuse of words and one thing that really drives me insane is the inability to differentiate between "lose" and "loose". Why do so many people get these

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-58083802862396082352007-04-25T19:02:00.000+01:002007-05-13T05:04:20.474+01:00

Well, for those who know what I mean, Second Life is down for updating and the Beta grid doesn't seem to be working either, so I may as well prattle in here a bit seeing as I haven't done for a while. Perhaps I will moan about my teenage daughter for a paragraph or two. What is it about teenage daughters and clothes? Mine has like hundreds of things to wear, but yesterday she wanted to wear the

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-90557883526567817282007-04-13T18:07:00.000+01:002007-04-13T18:24:05.666+01:00

It's been the Easter holidays for the past two weeks and I took my son to the cinema a couple of times. Last week we saw The Last Mimzy and yesterday we went to see Mr Bean's Holiday. My son wanted to see Mr Bean last week, but I persuaded him against it as I didn't really fancy it much. However, I have to say that I did enjoy it when we watched it yesterday. The Last Mimzy was good, but nothing

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-89818930968155195312007-03-27T19:14:00.000+01:002007-04-26T17:06:50.441+01:00

It's been like summer here the last couple of days. I went out today in my jacket as usual and almost melted away. Sheepskin doesn't really go with blazing hot sun. Apparently, this year is going to be the hottest on record, beating the record set in 1998. I don't recall 1998 being particularly hot, the hottest year I remember is 1976, the year I got married.I always said that I wouldn't repeat

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-30118340565925402872007-03-21T16:27:00.000+00:002007-03-21T16:47:01.800+00:00

My 14-year-old daughter is OK as far as 14-year-old daughters go, but she is awful when it comes to pushing herself forward. She's had since October to arrange a work placement for July and recently I received a letter from her school asking why she hadn't done so. It would have helped if she had told me about it coolly and calmly in October, rather than telling me in total panic a few days

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-71710252584202693282007-03-18T13:28:00.000+00:002007-03-18T13:45:31.160+00:00

We're starting to get back to normal now. Didn't go to bed until 3.30 am last night (or rather, this morning) and got up at about 10.45, so that's far more like it.It's Mother's Day here in the UK and my youngest son (aged 10) had hidden various things in the cupboard. When I got up he pretended that he couldn't open it and asked me to help - when I did so, there was a card and various wrapped

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-57612273862148068222007-03-17T07:57:00.000+00:002007-03-18T13:44:44.744+00:00

My sleep pattern seems to be totally mucked-up now. Last night I went upstairs at 8.30, intending to have a nap. I set the alarm for 10.30 and woke about 10.40, but went back to sleep again. Next thing I knew, it was 6.45 am, so I'd almost slept the clock round. I got up at 7 o'clock and although that's normal for most people, to me it seemed as if I was getting up in the middle of the night. I

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-47961312437163337242007-03-16T13:01:00.000+00:002007-03-19T03:36:07.286+00:00

Well, I was right. I didn't actually go to bed until 1 am. I set my alarm for 8 am, but was woken abruptly at 7.45 by my daughter, who was running up and down the stairs muttering "Oh My God, Oh My God", over and over. Turned out that her boyfriend, who was supposed to arrive here from London at 5.30 pm, had actually arrived somewhat earlier (his idea of a surprise) and she was panicking as she

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-58490658154847864172007-03-15T21:41:00.000+00:002007-03-16T16:57:59.651+00:00

It's 9.45 pm and I'm knackered. I've only been up about 13 1/2 hours, so I must be short on sleep if I'm this tired already. Trouble is, getting up before noon at the earliest is not good for my system and my body can't handle it. I'm not sure, but I think most hermits are night owls and it just isn't right that we're forced by society to get up at ungodly hours when the sun is shining and stuff.

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-23431766157398034432007-03-13T19:21:00.000+00:002007-03-13T19:24:33.803+00:00

Being a hermit, I hate visitors. Sometimes I have to force myself to put up with them, but if there's one thing I can't stand it's when they arrive early. It's bad enough for me trying to be ready on time, but being ready early is basically impossible.Today I arranged for my gas appliances to be serviced between 2-4 pm. This means that I expected the visit to take place somewhere between 2-4

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-38784859253985360972007-03-12T17:59:00.000+00:002007-03-13T03:35:43.106+00:00

My teenage daughter told me off today. OK, so it's nothing new (I'm a lousy mother), but I do feel that she was out of order on this occasion. It's not as if I was doing anything wrong, I was only SINGING. I suppose the fact that I was wearing headphones (I'd been told to do that because I was disturbing her tv viewing) meant I was singing rather loudly (like you do when you're wearing

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-42850928163177911792007-03-10T14:06:00.000+00:002007-03-10T14:39:53.833+00:00

Well, my Amazon stuff did arrive yesterday (today when I was writing, Friday that is) and I had quite a good time getting to know my Faerie Oracle. Not too enamoured with the Angel Numbers book though, it's a bit too god-biased to me, but I suppose I should have thought of that.OK, going to pick on the Yanks again (I do that periodically, although not as often as I want to, believe me). Check

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-7202750925462174322007-03-09T02:20:00.001+00:002007-03-16T09:22:35.301+00:00

Yesterday was my eldest daughter's birthday, although it's still today to me as I haven't been to bed yet. Will be going very soon though, as I'm knackered and falling asleep.Hopefully my Amazon items will arrive tomorrow (today), although knowing my luck they'll arrive on Saturday (tomorrow). I actually did better out of the deal than I should have (see previous post) as when I checked my

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-23829899885372344322007-03-07T16:42:00.000+00:002007-03-10T14:22:50.855+00:00

Sometimes it helps to be a stroppy cow. Last Friday I ordered a couple of items from Amazon UK. I only really wanted one of them, but the second cost less than the first-class postage on the first, so I got the second item without paying any extra as the order then qualified for free delivery.The items were supposed to arrive anytime between yesterday and tomorrow, but when I checked yesterday

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-9060472288340245342007-03-03T15:02:00.000+00:002007-03-03T15:02:28.743+00:00

A couple of days ago I bought this lipstick that's supposed to plump up the lips to 40% of their normal size. It's got collagen or something in it. Anyway, as mine are the "Excuse me, but I appear to be snogging your nose/chin" type of lips (i.e., almost non-existent), I thought I'd treat myself.There's meant to be this sort of tingle after you put the lipstick on and I did feel something, but

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-45648387470050007812007-03-02T02:17:00.000+00:002007-03-02T18:07:24.863+00:00

Get Your Sexy NameGet Your Monster NameGet Your Cyborg NameThanks to Gareth for the idea.

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8248096.post-54119977322611975262007-02-26T21:08:00.000+00:002007-02-27T04:21:09.344+00:00

There I am, innocently enjoying a cup of coffee and a bit of surfing (internet variety, I don't go in for the other sort, gimme a break), when my 14-year-old daughter screams at me from the kitchen.Daughter: MUM! HELP! There's a needle stuck in my foot.Mother: A what stuck in your foot? Just a minute ... Mother goes into kitchen. Daughter is hopping on one leg and announcing that she is dying

Witty Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06889123321459470395noreply@blogger.com3