In which I tune in to my childhood television.
Baby G is starting to hit the age where she can be parented by the television. The combination of noise and flashing colours is enough to hold her attention whilst I am busy doing other jobs. I could provide a great education by switching on TLC but instead she can sit in front of Sky Sports.
When I was a lil’ ‘un we weren’t so lucky as to have a bajillion channels, and children’s TV was scheduled for the hour long slot after we got home from school (to give our parents enough time to cook). With the multitude of channels at our disposal we have 24 hours of kiddy programming. Most of which is tripe.
To be a child again would be great, if I could be six years old again I’d sit in front of the television and rewatch all my favourite shows. Although if it was the 1980’s again I could only do this for a few hours a day, because there was a lack of Netflix.
Continue reading “Childhood: Television”
In which I talk through all the colours.
We are in the middle of April which means that we are in the midst of the rainy month, and this is reflected in the RED mornings. From now until May there will be an absence of delighted shepherds with the storms normally queue themselves up to batter our Isles.
This country may be famous for its greyness, and it is true that the cloud and drizzle has the ability to suck away colour like a climate dementor, but it will still glow ORANGE with the illumination from the street lamps fizzing against the drab cityscapes.
Mrs G is struggles with winter in this country, she is still not used to the long nights that the more northerly latitude provides. Even at lunchtime the Sun’s YELLOW rays barely penetrate through the gloom, the sky lightens from black to a light charcoal like the faded shirt of a rocker who has been wearing the same AC/DC shirt for the last twenty years.
Continue reading “Talking around the rainbow”