There is a train of thought, that love or loathe football (I fall into the latter category) you must submit and glibly accept the World cup... revel in the camaraderie as England triumphantly bring the trophy home, enter into the spirit of things as a mark perhaps of patriotic splendour.

I am ignoring that train of thought and have as yet, not succumbed to sitting on my arse watching endless rounds of men chasing a ball back and forth, forth and back... I have no flags adorning my house, or car, I have neglected to enter into small talk about it, save to mutter in passing 'Germany' when asked 'ere the Fanylion who d'ya reckon will win' this has been met with confusion, I suspect because the 2 main topics of school run talk with the folk I really don't wish to pass the time of day with, will, and forgive my judgemental assumption here, be for the ensuing weeks Football or Big Brother... As I quite enjoy confusing them, I'm sticking with my stock muttered response of Germany for the time being, until such a time as I decide to tell them in hushed tones, promise them to keep schtum... that I am to be entering the Big brother house the week before it ends, and indeed that I am Bookies favourite to win.

Instead of letting my brain ROT, I have taken to finding alternative pursuits, the boys like a round of Monopoly, or Snakes and Ladders...and when they aren't here, I read, I listen to music, unless the Footballian Chavs up the street become to raucous, or too frequent with their god awful aerosol spray horns and I retreat to the safety and isolation of the Hills... to think, to take pictures, and be antisocial and old with a flask of tea.... I'm taking advantage of the deserted wilderness whilst I can.


Of course, I appreciate, yes that not ALL Football fans are Chavs, in fact I *know* some thoroughly pleasant people who just happen to also enjoy the football, interestingly many of these people share the disdain for adorning houses and cars with the English flag, some even act guilty, as though to enjoy watching football is akin to having the clap.... they don't develop an irrational racism towards all other countries more likely to Win the tournament, anymore then I would develop an irrational hatred of the many countries who trounce the England Cricket team... I just happen to enjoy watching, or since Murdoch got his hands on the game, listening to it....


Anyway yes..

as I type, cooking... I have twice this evening had to use an unlikely cooking aid - the hammer... my freezer is WAY too efficient... I have perplexed my children with my culinary racket, and suspect they are soon to be disappointed with a mere mariners pie, rather then something hewn from a tree or involving nails perhaps (anyone who KNOWS of such a dish - answers on a postcard - or comment below, cheers)

And I am pondering.

Wondering in fact..

How long can one play with fire before getting burnt....