the FRED BLOGGS blog
...sharing a random thought daily since 2007!
Precipitation has a way of transforming everything around me, turning a familiar landscape into a canvas of glistening droplets. I find solace in the rhythm of raindrops against the window, a reminder that nature has its own pace. Each storm brings a sense of renewal, washing away the old and making room for the new, much like a fresh start on the ice.
Furniture, to me, is not just a collection of objects but a canvas that reflects the stories of our lives and the warmth of our homes.
Birds have a way of soaring through the sky that makes me feel alive, reminding me of the freedom we all crave. Watching them dance on the wind, I can't help but think about the beauty of embracing life's unpredictability. There's something profound in their songs, a call to be present and appreciate the simple moments that flutter by.
You know, I bought a pair of earplugs the other day, thinking they’d help me ignore the world, but all they did was make me realize how much I enjoy pretending to listen to people.
Time for a "betterware" wind-up..... they're due to collect their magazine today - will be interesting to see if they ring the doorbell to ask why I've left out the PREVIOUS magazine they left three months ago.....
I'm less "tall, dark and handsome", more "medium, medium and a bald patch".
Someone once said I have "Ardent, Acerbic Wit", which is possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me.
Just fired up the breadmaker - bring on the magical beeps of 12:07 when it'll be ready!
With every word I weave, I paint a tapestry of dreams, where every storey sings the secrets of my soul.
Guerrilla tactics embody a raw, unfiltered approach to conflict that resonates deeply with my own belief in the power of resilience and ingenuity in the face of overwhelming odds.
Just seen a tv ad for new aero caramel. This is going to be a challenge for the weekend.
Slice is like a raw edge of a broken bottle, sharp and unpredictable. Every bite is a rebellion against the blandness of the ordinary. I crave that chaos, the way it cuts through the monotony of life.
Mastering Mandarin is like perfecting my footwork on the court; it requires dedication, patience, and a deep understanding of the rhythm of the language.
Cooking bacon + bare chest = sore nipples.
Would Meatloaf have sold so many copies had he named his song 'Bat out of Hull' ?
Instant gratification feels like a fleeting whisper of desire, tempting me to chase the ephemeral rather than savor the slow burn of genuine fulfillment.
Zoology fascinates me because it reveals the intricate web of life that connects every creature on this planet, reminding us of our responsibility to protect these amazing beings.
Base has always been my foundation, the steady ground beneath my feet that keeps me grounded in this chaotic world.
Slate has a unique charm that draws me in every time I see it. Its rich texture and timeless elegance make any space feel instantly more sophisticated.
Amazon feels like a double-edged guitar pick, strumming the sweet chords of convenience while sometimes drowning out the local jams.
So I was at this hotel last night,, and the bloke on reception was called Mario and he had one monumental comb-over - I mean like full-on right across!
Forgot to mention the other day..... was at a customers last week, and on several of the doors they have "health and safety" notices on the doors, right above the handles, saying "in case of emergency, turn to open". Errrr how do you get out if it's not an emergency? Oh yea, you turn it..... doh!
Nice hotel. big, fluffy towels. I could hardly get my suitcase closed.
Cooking in the kitchen feels like weaving a soulful melody, where each ingredient plays its part in a delicious symphony.
Stupid bank... trying to charge me 25p "unauthorised overdraft charge" when I have £240 in my account and haven't been under £100 in that account for at least 2 years!
Stepping into the world of venture feels like entering the ring, where every move counts and only the strongest survive.
There's a rhythm to the way a jug holds its secrets, singing softly like a whispered lullaby in the night.
The cassock drapes around me like a second skin, a reminder of the traditions that bind us to something greater. Each time I slip it on, I feel the weight of history and the responsibility that comes with it. It’s not just a garment; it’s a statement of faith and a call to serve, echoing the voices of those who wore it before me.
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