Getting the Needle

No gentle reader, this is not a rant/vent or even a diatribe against the uncivilized teaching practices here in the Sunny, South Pacific Paradise called New Zealand. (Isn't a 12 hour day, with at least 3 committee meetings a week just a little bit like TOO MUCH F*CKING WORK ?)


Nor is it a screaming response to the complete unfairness of the electoral system which sees the Loony Green Left gaining more power to inflict their vision of Paradise (Cess Pits, Marijuana and banning all of those reprehensible and outdated practice, like being an Omnivore.  Lentils for all)

What's going to happen if they get more power

Nor am I referring to my great friend and respected colleague Ringo (of that ilk) of Nuova Lazio High School.

Ringo is a reformed character.
He no longer walks into a room and immediately interrupts any discussion taking place, he now waits at least 2.34 seconds
He no longer completely ignores you when you pass each other, he now gives a companionable (yet somehow, deprecating) grunt as he passes.
He gets on really, really well, with his little friends (otherwise known as the little shits from Year 11), protecting them from any nasty consequences of their actions.

Nor am I referring to that reprehensible practice of disfiguring the skin of a person; the embedding of noxious and probably toxic stains, inks and dyes under the epidermis. 

The disgusting art of tattooing.

At least M'son's tattoo isn't as bad as this

M'son, who now has three pieces of artwork embellishing his person, may well disagree, but anyone who is happy with his tattooed forearm showing a delightfully rendered image of the Mexican Day of the Dead with the addition of a Chinese script which he was told meant "May the Lord Bless You" but which really says "I've got a Bastard of a Cold" and a circlet of a blurry representation of barbed wire with a f*cking Robin Redbreast round his f*cking ankle doesn't have enough artistic or basic common sense to comment.

Or as bad as this

Or this

Or even this

Nor am I referring to any slight hint of sarcastic/ironic comment originating from my Beloved.

My Beloved is perfect in every way, like all women.

Just perfect

However, my Beloved does have a great deal of skill in her fingers.

I'm not talking any salacious nonsense here.  I'm not referring to any manipulation of any delicate and sensitive parts. (Even though the wish for such manipulation may lie just under the surface of every breathing male)
I'm talking about skill with a needle.

My Beloved spends some of her copious free time (She's got plenty, because apart from the cooking, I do everything else) doing needlework.

Once she's completed it, I frame it up for hanging on the wall, or even make a wooden frame as a fire-screen.

Some she makes into lovely cushion covers.

Here are the latest examples of her work.

And here she is herself.

Love you my Dear.

Look.

I know this is bit out of character for TSB.

Showing affection, compassion, AN EMOTION??

Yeah, well as Walt Whitman once said;
"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes."

I also liked from Whitman;
"I am for those who believe in loose delights, I share the midnight orgies of young men, I dance with the dancers and drink with the drinkers."

He must have been a High School Teacher.

Why not?  She was a High School Teacher, but she was sacked for having a personality