The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


The Fine Line Between June Gloom And June Bloom …
June 6, 2025, 6:15 am
Filed under: Augustine, Bassot, Birthday, Bonnie, Cannes, Jill, Love, Nottingham, Paul, Paula, Relationships, Tattoo

So today is the last post for about 3 weeks.

No, it’s not because I am still upset about the loss of my ring – I am, but I’ve found a way to move past it which I’ll write about when I’m back – it’s because I’m about to go on a mass of travel, including talking at Cannes with Paula.

But in addition to all that, I feel I’ve reached a point where I have nothing to write about.

If I think about it, that’s stupid … because I NEVER run out of things and right now – with things like Dream Bigger – I’ve got more good things to write about than I have in years.

Which means I really need a bit of a break … and while the next 3 weeks will be the opposite of that, a change is as good as a rest so expect me to come back fizzing with stuff to shout about.

Of which 86.32% will be my usual pants.

The rest may be pretty good.

Talking of pretty good, I should highlight all that’s going to happen while I’m away.

First – of course – is my birthday. My 55th fucking birthday, which is nothing to celebrate whatsoever, hence it’s pretty convenient that’s the day I fly out of NZ.

Secondly, it’s Jill’s birthday on the 15th … which, yet again, I am missing. I could say that is my gift to her, but I’m gutted to be missing her special day. She is a truly special human … and the longer we are together, the more I appreciate all she is and all she does. She deserves so much more, but I hope she knows I love her with all my heart, even if I somehow seem to always be away on her most special of days. And then – as the final birthday fuck-up – I get to miss my mate Paul’s birthday.

What is even more ridiculous is I’ll be in Nottingham 2 days before his big day and yet – in another demonstration of my terrible planning skills – I’ve managed to make sure I’ll be gone just as he celebrates his double 5 day.

Bloody hell, I’m missing so many important dates, I just hope I make it in time to be on stage with Paula.

[Not just because we have a speech to do, but because I’ve not seen her in the flesh since we spoke at Cannes way back in 2023!]

Given the last few weeks have seen people leaving [Martin, Augustine and Lizzie]. lost wedding rings [me], broken toes [Otis], COVID [also Otis] … I’m quite nervous about getting on the plane, so to ensure you don’t miss me too much – you can listen to me blather-on the OnStrategy podcast when Fergus came to New Zealand.

At the very least, it will help you sleep … and maybe, just maybe, you’ll wake up in time to see a brand, spanking new, exciting blog post from me.

But I wouldn’t bet on it.

And if you don’t like that, you can marvel at the latest ridiculous tattoo I’ve had done.

I say ‘ridiculous’, but every one of them is personal to me.

This one is for Bonnie, our pooch.

You see, when I was growing up, my favourite biscuit in the whole-wide-world was the Bourbon biscuit.

It was nothing fancy. In fact, it was probably a bit pauper – I think you could get a pack from Asda or Glens for 10 pence, albeit that 10 pence back then was probably like 10 quid now or something. Anyway, the Bourbon was 2 chocolate rectangular biscuits sandwiching a chocolate creme filling.

And it was fucking yum.

Or so I thought …

You see I had one recently and I have to admit, it tasted more cardboard than chocolate.

But regardless, when we learned our dog was chocolate brown in colour, I rallied the family around the idea of choosing a name inspire by my fave Bourbon biccie … which is my long way of explaining this.

I know. I know.

So with that, I’m off to offend the stylish South of France residents with my speech and tattoo. So until I see you in a few weeks, have fun with the peace and quiet.

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