I told you a while back that mum got excited about bits of dust being smashed together CERN gets mum excited – I know, I know, bless her – it’s rather tragic isn’t it? Getting excited about dust. Especially as the machine that was going to smash the dust together broke before it actually did it – a bit of an anti-climax, don’t you think? She really does need to get out more. Perhaps it’s her age. Oh well, I’m digressing. I ask what floats your boat because I find it intriguing – what people like to do with their time, or what people get passionate about. So many different things appeal to so many different folk.
Some folk like to throw themselves out of flying cars with a rucksack on their back that’s got a big silk tablecloth type of thing stuffed in it. Some folk like to throw themselves off of high places with a big elastic band attached to their ankle. Some folk like to drive really really fast round and round and round a circuit until they’re dizzy. Some folk like to jump off mountains with a big kite attached to their back. Some folk like to knit.
I get excited about smells. By sniffing a piece of poo I can tell a) what type of animal it came from, b) what sex it was, c) what it had for its dinner, d) whether or not it is suffering from any vitamin or nutrient deficiencies, and e) if it’s got worm or some other parasite infestation. That’s why it’s really important for us dogs to smell our own poo, but humans don’t realise that and simply go “Ugghh….will you STOP doing that!” at least that’s what my mum says when I try to smell mine.
Uncle Hugh gets passionate about flying in his flying car, whereas this flying business doesn’t do anything for my mum. Uncle Hugh sometimes flies to the UK in his little flying car. It takes HOURS and HOURS and HOURS. There are no toilets or nice ladies selling stuff and he could get there much quicker and cheaper by going Ryanair or Easyjet, (which is what mum mutters under her breath when he’s talking about doing it) but he still likes to do it, because it excites him.
As well as colliding dust and Top Gear, mum gets excited about walking, trees, flowers, and stuff like that. In the autumn, she gets very giddy. She’ll start shrieking and jumping up and down and pointing and saying “…look at the colour of those leaves Henry…LOOK….LOOK..” and I’m thinking “Yes, they’re orange…and? Helllooo!!!” I do worry about her. I wish she’d get excited about normal stuff. Why can’t she get excited about handbags or shoes or frocks like her friends do? But no. Dust and leaves… dust and leaves! I shouldn’t be too critical. I guess if we were all the same it would be a pretty boring old world wouldn’t it?
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