Living in the countryside is a lifestyle choice associated with the fresh air, the greenery and the calm. When we chose to move into a converted chateau a while back (it’s converted into apartments mind you) we had the idea of rural countryside bliss in mind. What I did not count on is the cock (tee-hee – note: this bracket has been included to fit with what counts as trendy in this day and age) that is a permanent fixture in our neighbour’s menagerie.
This morning I was unable to find the snooze button on the persistent sound that seemed to have taken over my alarm clock. The crowing of the cock was surely planned by the same devious bastard who had scheduled early morning mowing of lawns and clearing of paths on Saturdays in the Parc de Merl. I am sure that this particular rooster has a magna cum louder (sic) in statistical mechanics and opts to crow at apposite intervals designed to torture the brain of even the most innocent bystander.
Trying to catch an extra half hour snooze in the morning? Epic fail. Give me urban regularity any time. I must say though that I am definitely not looking forward to the noises of Paceville waking up in the morning come (tee-hee) next week.
I am no genius in the grander economic theories of the way things work in our lives but I follow the news enough to know that what happened last night in the US of A will have huge repercussions on the order of things in the Western World (and par consequence beyond). The lawmakers of the great nation finally agreed on a manner in which to deal with impending doom of financial meltdown. They did so by voting for the only way out – increasing debt levels and increasing spending cuts.
We might have the very wrong impression that this will only affect people on the other side of the ocean but while we are immersed in navel-gazing exercises and dabbling with redefining Maltese concepts of political correctness (wrongly, I hasten to addf) the bite of the current treatment phase of the financial armageddon will definitely be felt in Malta too. I can’t wait for the next government to reopen the whole “Hofor” speak. The really cool (it’s sarcasm Jim, but you wouldn’t know it) thing is that the two options we have: Inhobbkom J or a New Faction of PN could both choose to blindly blame it on the Gonz while navigating the economy into darker waters. Spiffin.
To Do or not To Do
I currently have the attention span of a bluebottle fly in a rubbish tip. That is probably why blogging on J’accuse has become even more sporadic than is usual in the desert of the summer months when most people do not even sit at their pc’s anyway. In any case the appointed date for the joining of fates approaches at breakneck speed (1hr/hr) my mind seems to have wandered into a capsule which I timeshare with various to-do lists that are my curse.
It’s not like I have to plan Malta’s new transport system or anything but in between little chores related to nuptial preparations, moving of houses and final touches at the workplace before the long Ferragosto, I find myself swimming in a sea of shifting deadlines that defy any attempt of self-control.
There. That has to be it for the day. We hope you have enjoyed this running commentary of random ramblings from the greyish skies of Luxembourg. Have a good one till the next post. And don’t forget we are also on tumblr for the experienced browser’s perusal..