Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Three Things About Me

This came in the form of an email from Daughter of Signs and one is supposed to send it on to people. Well it looks just like a “meme” to me, so:

Three jobs I have had in my life: Turkey Inseminator (I’ve written about this, key “turkey” into search box to read), audio typist, nursing auxilliary in psychiatric unit.

Three shows that I watch: (assuming this means telly). Doctor Who, Late Night Review and I really can’t think of anything else that I regularly watch. I used to love Black Books with Dylan Moran. Comedy things like that, Peep Show and The Office.

Three places I have lived: Village near Berlin (as a young child), Primrose Hill (older child), Bethnal Green (first flat post bedsit).

Three places I have been this week: Shrinky in Brighton, Tesco Express and Health Shop (both in my village).

Three people who email me regularly: presumably I’m not counting the nice people at Amazon, Ocado (I haven’t used but they don’t give up) and the tireless individual who emails me almost daily about village happenings. Well I’m not going to name names, am I? You know who you are.

Three of my favourite foods: Oysters, chicken roasted with lemon, herbs and garlic – steamed greens on the side, fish and chips with mushy peas and (a recent addition) curry sauce.

Three places I’d rather be:
walking on the north beach on the Isle of Iona,
in a high-ceilinged, bay-windowed room in Hackney in 1990, singing with my two little children:

“Mama says no play; this is a work day,
up with the bright sun, get all the work done,
if you will help me, climb up the tall tree,
shake the papaya down.”


“When I was one, I banged my drum
the day I went to sea,
I jumped aboard a pirate ship and the captain said to me,
“We’re goin’ this way, that way, forward and backwards,
over the Irish sea,
With a bottle of rum to warm me tum
and that’s the life for me.”

and in Dayville’s Icecream parlour in Finchley Road circa 1975, eating hazelnut icecream with hot chocolate fudge sauce.

(but here on the Edge is good too, just saying).

Three friends I think will respond to this message: Ms North, Icemaiden and TPE. Why do I think they will respond? Blind faith really, the best kind.

Three things I am looking forward to: winning the competition I just entered, meeting with writing companions in Feb and March, seeing the Daughter on Sunday.


Zhoen said...


Anna MR said...

Right you are, Signskins. This is actually a tag you've invented, you know? These things always start somewhere, I suppose, and now this somewhere is you - after all, what you got from D of S (hello to her, by the way) was an email circular. This is way more public and consequently way more fun. I'm impressed. Thank you for tagging me. I'll get to this soon.

Mwahs in the meantime. Need to go for a smoko.

tpe said...

When I was two I lost my shoe the day I went to sea

When I was three I cut my knee…..

Are we singing from the same hymn sheet, Signs? If so, that song is legendary. (And changeable, too. My niece would sing it with the line “when I was one, I’d just begun….”) It’s a bit sad, actually, to think of it. Or is that just me?

I worry slightly that you may have your shrink and Tesco visits the wrong way round, of course – most sensible adults require on the spot therapy immediately after a visit to Tesco – but I’m minded to let it go, you see, in gratitude for the fact that you shared some stuff with us.

Not least the fact that you watch Peep Show (NMJ got me into that pleasingly corrupt show) and live in a village that is so busy that something seems to happen every day. If I hadn’t seen pictures of the place with my own eyes, Signs, I would swear that you lived in New York. What sort of a village requires an almost daily email update on stuff that’s going on? A city, that’s what’s sort of a village.

Anyway, thank you for sharing your words and thoughts, as ever.

My regards to The Big Apple – no, The Huge Apple.


Reading the Signs said...

I need to go for a smoko too! But there is no smoko in the house so I can't - just as well.

I am glad you are taking this up, Iceling, and I have a feeling that certain others will be along in the fullness of time. It's a bit of a random one, but then that's life, Sees - a bit random.

Reading the Signs said...

TPE, this is synchronicitous for I was just this moment thinking about you when I referred to "certain others". It is wonderful to know that blind faith is rewarded, thank you.

This village is a Small Apple, but works just like the Tardis: go into it and it opens up into something Huge. I am not exaggerating - every day there are Events - storytelling, new agey therapy/healing stuff, classes, lectures and whatnot. My poetry cafe was just one small happening in a sea of Events. This is both wonderful and overwhelming, depending on one's state of mind at any particular time.

I think the words of that song are changeable - sometimes the line goes "when I was one I cut my thumb".

Right, going to listen to an anthem now.

trousers said...

I liked the answers, and then you mentioned Iona, and I came over all wistful: I was there a month shy of five years ago.

You may be well aware of this, but (Labour leader) John Smith's grave is there: I sometimes wonder how different things might have been.

Oh, and regarding a different part of the post, it does appeal to me, the idea of sending you regular emails with updates of village life, all of which exists entirely in my own head.

(You'll be thankful to know that I'm already considering the possibility that it might be somewhat less appealing to you.)

Word ver = awdri. She's one of the villagers, don't you know.

Kahless said...

I did the meme Signsie!

And are you sure you are not a northern liking mushy peas and all?

Reading the Signs said...

Trousers, I think Iona does that to people. I have been there twice and plan to go again.

She is one of the villagers, as it happens! They can see right into our lives, you know.

Kahless, definitely more than a bit of the northern about me.

I should have guessed you'd be up for a spot of memeing - coming over to look now.