Girls talk too much.

"Girls talk too much," said Peter Pan when Wendy went ballistic.

I am apt to agree. Really.  Girls, women, ladies, they DO talk too much.  Was it Thomas Jefferson who said that the most valuable of all talents is to never use two words when one will do?  Then again, he's a man.  What does a man know about using twenty words to give credence to one?

Its the same with canines. I have raised three dogs and three bitches up till now. Canines are social animals too. They participate in neighbourly chats once in a while.  All it took was just for one to start the ball rolling. Sleep is impossible at the height of their argument. Yet I've noticed that my dogs have fewer barks than the bitches.  They listened to the barks but they kept their responses to the minimum while the bitches only wanted to be heard whether or not there is any substance in what they say.

I've been to the radiotherapy room daily for the past three weeks. It was relatively quiet. Most of us waited patiently and minded our own business.  If any chatter started, they never rose beyond a discreet murmur.

The tranquillity was broken this week. Miss Chatterbox, of whom I wrote extensively in previous posts had arrived.  There she is with that pinched expression as brazen as before, asking personal questions of anyone who crossed her path.  I found her inordinately inquisitive and invasive so I sat as far away from her as possible.  Still, her annoying voice intrude upon my space and I knew that it was impossible to continue reading my book, SPACE by Michener, which by the way, is an interesting read.

Yesterday on the way home after the radiotherapy, I struck up a conversation with the cab driver. He was telling me about his two menantu, adding that he got along fine with both of them unlike his wife.  "Women talked too much," he complained. 

I had to agree.