in response to the severe case of husband’s ear that I am suffering from, Wild Land will start a new category. It should be called Sunday Whimsy because Sunday is a good day to kick back and read something for fun.
But that would imply every Sunday, and I haven’t the time (poor little rabbit). But some Sundays and other quiet days a tidbit will appear in the new Whimsy cubby-hole in response to the clamouring fan who contacted me and asked for more about tattling tui and marauding mantises.
She did hasten to add that it wasn’t because she enjoyed the stories, but that it would help her to organise her shopping expeditions. Her reasoning was that if I wasn’t posting such stories then I’d probably been locked up at long last and the streets were again safe and she could hazard a quick trip to the chippy or supermarket.
Well, (blush) how could I refuse. As I put down the phone I was mainly relieved that she hadn’t been asking me for money or to buy something or partake in a survey as so many of my treasured callers do these days.
It was also nice to know that there is a human out there in amongst the throngs of robots who frantically wave their rubbery clawed arms chanting “Danger, Danger” every time I post something. It will also make a change from the bloke who commandeers my computer so that he can witter on about lake levels, earthquakes, thunderplumps and other fascinating natural phenomena.
The inaptly-named Concise Oxford Dictionary which regularly tries to break my big toe from its hiding place on the floor tells me:
whimsy – 1 a whim; a capricious notion or fancy. 2 capricious or quaint humour.
You’ve been warned.
Let go of reality before entering the Whimsy department.
I have. 😀