April has disappeared over the horizon as I start to write this. So far, May has made the world a nicer place, with warm sunshine and the sudden burgeoning of blossom, flowers and trees coming into leaf. It’s far better to be bored to death by Brexit on a warm sunny day – when every bird in the sky is singing its heart out, bees are buzzing and cows are munching contentedly in the meadows– than being bored by it on freezing cold gloomy days. I do hope that this week will not be our entire summer!
An advantage of writing a blog is that, from time to time, you are allowed a bit of a rant. There are two this month – so hold onto your hats, because here we go!
The first is the use of the word “kid”. Perhaps it offends my agricultural background, or maybe it’s proof of just another stuffy-old-whatsit. But in my book, a kid is the progeny of a goat! It smells like a goat (some would say stinks like a goat); behaves like a goat (so don’t turn your back on it or it’ll butt you in the bum, and from experience I can testify to the hardness of their heads); but more than all of these, kids to grow to be goats. Do all parents, who have “kids” rather than children, consider themselves to be goats?
Second rant. The Queen was “caught” on camera (and presumably a long-range microphone) remarking on the rudeness of some of the Chinese president’s entourage during his state visit last autumn. This caused a bit of a fuss.
Let us just remind ourselves of our extraordinary luck in having such an outstanding woman as our Queen. At 90 years old, she has faithfully served our country and the commonwealth for more than 60 years. She has worked with successive governments to the best of her ability – even singing Auld Lang Syne in the grip of Tony Blair! So why should this wonderful woman be pilloried by elements of the press and television? They merely illustrate for us how cheap and devious they are.
Having unloaded the above on you, there is something new and exciting to be shared. Are you “on fleek”, and if not why not?
This to me at least is the great linguistic discovery of the month – if not the year. If you are not on fleek, you haven’t got a hope of making an impact as you walk down the street or spend the evening at your favourite club. If you want to be where it’s at, it is all about the hair, the clothes, the finger nails, the footwear and the way you stand, walk and talk. There is no higher compliment that can be paid than to be told that you are “on fleek” - particularly if you happen to be in Lowestoft.
Where do I find these wonderful cultural gems you may ask? The answer is quite simple – my wonderful Pulse girls!