Helen Cowen Presents Monopoly

2006-08-31T10:26:00.000+01:00

Have just realised that when Andy made this and insisted I wrote in it, he spelt Monopoly wrong somewhere. The extra 'o' in 'Monopoloy' makes it sound quite interesting though. The idea of having a polo in your name. Could be a car, if you needed to be somewhere in a hurry (and lacked the important accessory of a pair of wings)...or better still, a roundy minty mint. Ah, the may versatile ways one can view spelling mistakes. Do we sometimes look at stuff on the surface and see the rubbish - like a mahussive nose or something - and forget that there might be a good thing hidden away (like being able to smell really well, not that a big ginormous nose is that easy to hide away)...?...yeah, maybe having a polo in your name also makes you hopelessly pretentious and faux-deep and thougtful!

Muchosimmo love x x x x

2006-08-28T21:18:00.000+01:00

I almost didn't write this due to a spectacular organic yoghurt, which I was consuming this evening. But I couldn't resist the opportunity to be Monopoly once more, especially with such a scandalous opening line. Well, what along time has passed since last I (dis)graced the screen with frivolous observations of the world, leading people accidentally astray with tales of organic papaya and miniature cheese graters. Indeed, nigh on 14 months, indeed, as I was once told, more than enough time to have a baby. However, a baby on a pirate ship wouldn't be all that convenient, would it.

I forgot about this because, now I'm no longer causing trouble in Exmouth, there's no one to remind my of my esteemed position as Mademoiselle Monopoly, a.k.a 'the dangerous game' one might play if one were silly. I wonder if I perhaps have elements of the Monopoly about me. Perhaps a career change from pirate to nun might alleviate further concerns, but life would be a litle dull.

It's funny that moving to the South West opened my eyes to South Eastern expressions such as "it's raining bacon" and "it's a bit pirhanas".

A year later, those phrases seem to have miraculously passed out of the average South eaterner's vocabulary (or 'parlance', as my father would have it). But one wouldn't want to be average, now, would one.

Or to over use marks of interrogation.

Yes. Well, clearly Camberley affords fewer opportunities to be a pirate. Or Monopoly. Except on a Wednesday...

So on that note, love of a nunly or Monopololic variety (delete as desired) to all those fabulous Exmouth ICEtastic people who encouraged me to write these silly musings in the first place x x x x and I'm sorry for being so naughty x x x x

2005-06-02T16:15:00.000+01:00

Arrhhh matey. I am a pirate.

The reason I have not posted in a while is that I have been undergoing an identity crisis, believing myself to be a Princess and so living a life of pink sparkles and splendour. However, it has fortuitously come to my attention that this is not the case; in fact, I am a pirate of the high seas. I therefore renounce my deluded past and choose to live a worthy life.

I write from aboard my new ship, with it's jovial flag, "The Jolly Codger" unfurled. My ship, one might say, is...recycled property, for I stole it from an old man I met in the Axis Cafe. Ah well, what use had he for it anyway? Certainly nothing so exciting as the adventures I will have aboard the boat.

How did I discover this travesty of deception, I hear you ask incredulously. Well, the other day, I was reclining on my chaise longue in the West wing of my castle, considering what cake I should bake for tea with Prince Charming's butler that afternoon (the servants were more conversationally interesting than the nobles, for they told tales of scandal with great aplomb)...when all of a sudden, a parrot named Percy flew through the window and perched upon my shoulder. He sqwarked a simple sailor's greeting and it was as if I had been given a vitamin pill after a bad bout of scurvy - that same sense of hope and joy in my future, a sense of wrongs being righted and restoration recommenced.

No longer will I malinger in unsalubrious shores. Percy and I have set sail to traverse the seven seas.

Ahoy there, my little munchkins. Cast off your landlubber lies and join me in my pirate adventures.

Make some waves xxxx

2005-04-09T10:41:00.000+01:00

Oooh, someone forgot to wear her stroppy ring!

2005-04-04T08:55:00.000+01:00

THIS IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT; THIS IS OUR LATEST...(with thanks to Green Day for allowing me to quote them on that)...

Good morning one and all. I hope you all enjoyed Easter; feel refreshed, blessed, peaceful etc...Perchance one should explain, for the benefit of those confused people out there (and if one is anonymous, one must surely be suffering either an identity crisis - who am I?! - or either a lack of bravery to identify oneself...ahem, if you can't own up to who you are, you probably shouldn't air your views...if you want to be 'contraversial', wait till you can stand on the picket line and get your face in the newspaper as a proud protester, please)...

...my previous post. Well, I am sorry. I did not mean to confuse. I was in fact taking the Mark a little, for that day Matt had informed me of a mistake he made when reading the first words of my blog on Simon's ("I was late to work today because of an orga..."). As this was in fact a perfectly innocent exploration of the merits and perils of pesticide-free fruit delivery, rather than anything more outrageous, and I had been totally unaware of the confusion this might cause, I must confess that it made me giggle to think of the ways one can misinterpret things by not looking fully at the bigger picture.

In every fairytale, there is a villian. On behalf of the Exmouth princess posse, I felt it was my turn to be naughty (I think the others are still waiting patiently for theirs, you're all angels and I love you!), and intentionally write a tantalising first sentence - like a cliffhanger ending on Neighbours, perhaps ;o)...

For anyone nameless whom I offended by such knavery, please forgive me.

..."And what can we learn from this experience, children?"

"Ephesians 5
1Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children 2and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
3But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people. 4Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving. 5For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person–such a man is an idolater–has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.[a] 6Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient. 7Therefore do not be partners with them.
8For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9(for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) 10and find out what pleases the Lord. 11Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. 12For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. 13But everything exposed by the light becomes visible, 14for it is light that makes everything visible. This is why it is said: “Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”
15Be very careful, then, how you live–not as unwise but as wise, 16making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. 17Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is. 18Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit. 19Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, 20always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ."

As my old youth worker (whom I saw yesterday, hurray) would say, "I stand corrected". If I ever find my anonymous friend, I shall speak to them in 'psalms, hymns and spiritual songs'. And since I don't know who you are (and am not all that bothered, and like singing songs), perhaps my life (and the life of those around me) will become a musical...

Let's just hope our melodies aren't always...chained ('the Unstrung' - go and hear them) xxxx

2005-03-22T16:27:00.000Z

Andy has invited me to do some professional stripping of wallpaper, as he has heard of my penchant for decorating upon the proverbially orga...nic (thank you Matthew, just for whom dost thou take me?!) grapevine. I very much look forward to this exciting experience, as I feel it will involve a part of my character not quite fully utilised in youthwork.

God's blessing be upon your beard...
...and your newly-decorated walls...
...and your overactive imaginations...

PS: Cutting things too short could cause one problems: refer to the fairytale Rapunzel...

2005-02-21T10:56:00.000Z

I was late to work this morning because of an organic papaya and a fascinating miniature cheese grater.

The aforementioned papaya was most delicious; indeed, unexpectedly so, for in my past experience, the exotic fruits (mangoes) profered by the organic travelling greengrocer - who shall remain nameless, even despite his own propensity for cruel naming and shaming of 'inadequate' farmers who 'make a pig's ear of growing cauliflower' - have been rather below par, one might say. Browning, fibrous mangoes with a perculiar leopard-printed flesh (how passe!) that seem to rot without ripening and exude a sullen air of non-compliance with my culinary ambitions...

There are many seeds in an organic papaya. They are strangely beautiful, I find, as they are reminiscent of caviar. Indeed, perchance a more economical recipe suggestion for a platter of fishy food might be to substitute the caviar (a posh starter, naturally) for a spoonful of these seeds (having first taken the precaution of leaving the papaya in a local fishmongers for several days previously); lo and behold - it tastes fishy, it looks the part, and so one's guests are fooled. No doubt they are also rather nutritious, and contain a simialr amount of protein, and more vitamins. Suitable for vegans even, how very culturally inclusive. Waste not, want not, I always say (do I hear an 'Aye' from Mrs Beeton?!)...

Well done, Mr X, for sourcing such fragrant flesh. A perfectly perfumed papaya.

As for the interesting kitchen impliment, I, sadly, did not think of using it to aid my enjoyment of the fruit - for while an 'increased surface area' may be the ideal answer to almost every Biology GCSE exam question, one must use not only one's discretion, but also one's brain, in this instance, and recognise that precious juices might be forsaken in such a venture. And if the papaya took all that trouble to make the doubtless-long voyage to Devon from some exotic shore, one must at least attempt to do it justice, and not lose too much of its goodness in transit from the bowl to one's mouth.

Nay, instead twas utilised when I was making two sandwiches for a picnic I am due to go on shortly, with Andy. Having first checked that cheese and ham were to his liking, I decided to make angel hair out of the cheese, using a fantastic utensil which was hanging upon the wall temptingly. I tried (wo)manfully to resist its siren call, but the lure was too much, and so the cheese was not sliced as usual (I suppose the equivalent of super-straightened hair in the angel world), but instead shredded into many a minute curl: delightful! Apparently curls and natural waves are very a la mode this season, though I'm not sure if Heaven has a different fashion sense to us mere earthlings?

Anyway, I have an office to tidy - probably as pennance for my tardiness and culinary capers.

Be blessed - and greet your local travelling greengrocer with a holy kiss from me.

Love and sparkles of the pink variety,
Miss Monopoly xxxxxxxxxx

2005-02-08T10:22:00.000Z

'"Good morning, good morning," the General said' - Sassoon, 'The General'.

I am not, fortunately, the General. However, I come to consider his sentiments as I sit, basking in glorious sunshine, in my church office, while usually I would be ensconced within the delightful yellow-and-green (peas and sweetcorn, the nation's favourite vegetables) walls of the ICE office...

I waited for half an hour this morning, sitting on the steps outside the aforementioned room (as I lack a key), only to discover that Miss Laura is still ailing; Miss Katie Beth is also ill, and sounding rather hoarse; Miss Dorothea is in Birmingham; and Miss Anne (Princess) is in a lesson...So off I popped down to Ichthus to email my Cluster about pancakes, in preparation for our little seasonal shindig tomorrow.

The General in Sassoon's satirical poem is oblivious to the attrocities of war around him. He jovially sends his men to their deaths without considering the effects on their comrades, their families, their friends, or their loved-ones...

How horrific! I heard all my English class cry in moral outrage. And in many ways, 'tis true. How disgusting to be smug and secure in the protection offered by your heirachy, while those below you suffer.

But then, if Sassoon had commenced the poem with "Terrible morning, my poor, dejected troops, for today is your last!", would the General's attitude have been any better? I wonder what the appropriate response to monstrousness really is.

One of the blessings of having had this unexpected emailing window in my morning was that I've been able to respond to one of the lovely people who comes to the evening service. But they, like lots of other people, seem to struggle to look positively at anything. Is this any healthier, or less blinkered, than the General and his similar, if bipolar, perspective? I think not.

When there is lots of pain and tephra (volcanic rubbish, for those of you who have yet to come across the word) in the lives of those around us, should we be like the General, and gloss over it because it doesn't affect us, or should wallow others to wallow in their self pity and possibly never emerge (like a drowning hippopotamus)...?

Perhaps we should look at the bigger picture and consider what we have been blessed with. Someone lovely once told me, as we promenaded on the beach looking at stars, that the more stars you look for, the more you see, and that this is like the blessings in your life. This doesn't mean refusing to acknowledge the horrible things, but instead taking them to the creator of the fantabulous things of life, and trusting Him to take care of them.

There are tephraic happenings, relationships, weather conditions etc...but amidst those, there are many, many marvellous things.

Perhaps the General should be given a new script: "Morning, morning." The abscence of adjectives would then allow the reader to make his or her own mind up about whether or not he was a glass-half-full, or a glass-hlaf-empty kind of guy.

Blessings (of a papal variety - challenging for a Northern Anglican girl), love and sparlkles,
Mademoiselle Monopoly xxxxxxxxxxx

2005-02-03T16:15:00.000Z

Good afternoon.

I was going to go on strike and refuse to post again - for surely tis the job of postal workers (ooh, how politically correct!) until some charming friend deigned to comment upon my magpie musings.

However, one dear sweet person just tried to (hurrah and huzzah for Matthew James!) and it disappeared, so mayhap this is not going to be a successful ploy, for the blog monkey is eating anything commenty - hmm, is he perhaps a magpiesque creature also?!

Well, all seems doom and gloom among friends and relations at the moment. I have decided (through laziness) to relinquish my task - set by Miss McAdam - to create a tally of the number of times I cry this year...I feel too many reams of paper would be wasted. And yet, joyousness and revelry abounds.

As dear William Blake said once, in his proverbs in "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell", "The extreme of joy weeps, the extreme of sorrow laughs...". Perchance the abundance of both weeping and laughing in my life to date reflects the manifold randomness and moments of marvellousness, interspersed with moments of monstrosity?!

I went to a prayer meeting last night that went on till 11.40pm - Great Scott!!! It was most enjoyable, though by the end, Dori, Sarah and I were all almost alseep. Note to self: do not attempt to pray in a fairly dark room while lying on a bed late at night.

Sarah, Anne and I watched Amelie last night - a very good, indeed, most excellent film. I get so bored of all the American rubbishy teenage ones (no offense Miss Katie Beth!) about blonde high school girls whose main aim in life is to straighten their hair and buy a nice pair of shoes, oh, and go out with the "star quarterback"...

But then I think about how shallow I am and realise that I quite like shoes (especially my pink stilettoes) and straight hair and boys (though I'm not so thrilled by the idea of a sports superstar, for in my youth I dated a sporty 'jock' and he was boring)...ah well we're all like those tedious silly girls then. But the beginning of Amelie when the narrator talks about what each character likes and dislikes is awesome as it's really random and perfectly captures what people are really like - full of quirkiness.

People's quirks should be celebrated (unless they involve making collages out of other people's toenail clippings, as one very "artistic" friend of mine once hoped to do)...

Hold onto your hats.

Dispose safely of your toenail clippings - you never know who might want to exhibit them in the Tate one day.

Don't drive tractors when drunk.

Love and pink polkadot ballerina elephants and castles xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

2005-01-24T10:51:00.000Z

Why Children Are Like Magpies
- Or, ‘Reflections On Modern Parenting’

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased – nay, delighted! – to be able to divulge a little-known dieting secret, the preserve (far fewer calories than jam or marmalade) of serious slimmers for decades…

Have you noticed the perplexing tendency of young children to scavenge? Just as magpies famously steal all that glisters (but is not gold), in order that one day one finds one is without one’s milk-bottle tops, or the new shiny hinge on the garden gate (vitally important items, no?); so children seem to make a bee-line (or should that perchance be ‘magpie-line’?) for…my breakfast, luncheon, tea…

This morning, I sat at the table with two slices of toast for company (and sustenance). Shortly after perching upon the chair, I was joined by my two-year-old host-brother, Elijah. He began to appeal to me for food, and like the silly soft monkey I am, I broke off a quarter to keep him going, and hoped he would eat in his beautifully charming way while I had some food too. Alas, he eats at the speed of a charging bull, and so was soon eying up my plate like Casanova after a new girlfriend. Grrr. The thieving child reached over, picked up a whole half a slice of toast (I know that makes little mathematical sense) and began to munch. Well, he has a very endearing face, so I wasn’t particularly annoyed, though I do believe he is getting far too cheeky. While he was halfway through his (my!) breakfast – having already had his own cereal and toast, I might add – I thought I might have a little morsel of melon (fruit being one of God’s finest creations)…And as soon as I had sat down again with the fruit, Elijah began to point, and poke, and pester…

No, no, sonny Jim, you finish your toast. He had two wee bites of melon and that was enough, methinks. He reminds me of a seagull – most adequately fed already, but extremely greedy.

Why do you think children have become so demanding? I consider it the problem of modern parenting! We are so stressed or pressed for time (as we fill it with stupid, pointless things) that it is easier to give in to a small sprout’s whinges than it is to say ‘no’. Well, parents of Britain unite! It’s time to say ‘no’ to your horrors (even if they are very cute and you want to watch Neighbours in peace): it’ll save you time in the long run…such as at the police station in a few year’s time, when your little darling has been arrested for stealing a bicycle ;o)

When I have children myself, this shall be one of my principles: JUST SAY NO.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

PS: I do heartily recommend sharing, but as with many things, tis a question of circumstance: I mean, would anyone like my current bad cold, or the sickness bug I’ve been in bed with all week?! I wouldn’t want to be selfish, you know…

(PPS: By the way, 'have children and spoil them' was my aforementioned dieting tip of 2005, if anyone missed it: try it, it works.)

2005-01-12T19:35:00.000Z

Well, good evening to anyone who might perchance peruse this page. There is something afoot in my house. Random kitchen objects keep apparing in the bathroom. First, it was an almost empty can of cider and a large ripe tomato. Perplexing in the extreme. And today's mystery bath companion is an empty bottle of 'Tesco American Style Low Calorie Ginger Ale with sweeteners'... Suggestions for why one might drink such a beverage while bathing would be greatly appreciated.

However, as this blog is really just because Andrew decided I should have one and then went to all the bother of making it so beauteous (my picture excluded, of course, though I like my angels), I doubt I shall have many contributors...

The most interestingquotation of the day comes from Mr Nick Boyland, who said today in Cluster, "I think the reason men like this [a massage chair] is because they all want to get back into the womb." Well, I'm glad I'm not male. I think the world is a most pleasant place to be in, especially this little seaside town of Exmouth. I'm sure my mummy's womb was delightful when I was a baby, but, as Othello famously says in the play, "No more of that!". People should learn to be happy where they are.

Perhaps it's because boys are so very lazy that they wish to return to being so very mummied.

That said, I still curl up in armchairs with any loved one, so perhaps we are all babies really, and boys are just more honest about these things.

Talking of laziness, Laura, Dori and I had a most exciting excursion to Exmouth leisure centre this afternoon, to inquire about membership of the gym. Hurrah, even salsa dancing (apparently a wondrous form of Latin dance) is included. Soon we shall be sashaying and swaying and swooning (there must be some element of the theatrical, or it shall be no fun)...

Apparently this neccessitates purchasing a pair of trainers. I'm rather fond of my new pink stillettos, but I suppose they wouldn't be frightfully useful on a treadmill.

Ooooh, hopefully I'm playing tennis with Andy on Sunday afternoon. That shall be most spiffingly jolly.

Anyway, I think this post is quite long enough. At some point I shall go home and possibly discover some new addition to the ingredients to the recipe for bathime bliss...

Mwah xxxxxxxxx

2004-12-31T15:17:00.000Z

Good afternoon. I have been chastised for my lack of postage. However, in my defense, I would like to offer the comment that posting is an occupation best reserved for postmen, which (last time I checked) was not my job description. As for postmen in general, eloping to Gretna Green with one's postal worker (as I believe they may now be known) is indeed an option. However, my postman is actually a woman, so perchance I shall leave that to the male members of my household. I hear the milkman is available, should anyone wish for a gentleman with whom to run away to some far-flung place to keep herds of cows and churn butter in her spare time...

I hope this will suffice.

By the way, has anyone seen the boot? It seems to have been lost in transit, and the Monopoly board is not quite the same without it. Perhaps the boot is on the other foot.

Sparkles and pink fairy dust xxxx

2004-12-27T19:06:00.000Z

The Queen has appealed for tolerance and understanding between cultural and religious groups in Britain's diverse society. She said religions were often in the news as "sources of difference and conflict", whereas they all bore messages of tolerance and respect. She also pointed out that diversity was "a strength, not a threat". Christmas is the one time of the year when the Queen writes her speech with no advice from the government.

2004-12-26T19:06:00.000Z

A number of severe weather warnings have been issued across the UK, as many Britons deal with a white Christmas. Snow and icy roads have posed a danger for drivers in many areas, with Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland seeing heavy falls this morning. Snow fell on high ground in Derbyshire, Shropshire, Staffordshire, North Yorkshire, Lancashire, Cumbria and Dartmoor, and may fall on lower ground. On Sunday, most of the country is expected to enjoy a cold, dry day. Bookmakers Ladbrokes paid out £500,000 after snow in Scotland and Manchester. "I don't think we've seen widespread snow since before the millennium so we mustn't be too Scrooge-like," said one bookmaker.

2004-12-25T19:05:00.000Z

The Pope has delivered his annual Christmas message to thousands of followers in Rome's St Peter's Square. The frail pontiff, 84, used his sermon to express "grave apprehension" over the continuing conflict in Iraq. He described violence in all its forms as a "source of untold suffering", and voiced fears about suffering in Sudan and hopes for peace in the Middle East. As thousands sheltered from rain, the Pope spoke of "invincible confidence" about eventual peace in the Holy Land. "I think of Africa, of the tragedy of Darfur in Sudan, of the Ivory Coast and of the Great Lakes Region" he said in his Urbi et Orbi address.

Let there be an end to the numerous situations of unrest which risk degenerating into open conflict