Friday, 30 November 2007


Well, have stopped throwing up, which is nice. I started being sick on Tuesday night, and was firmly of the opinion that it was stress-related.

My reasoning was: had horrible, scary, stressful work-related dream, woke up at 3am, was very sick, then lay there till 6am feeling sick and stressed. Therefore, must be work making me ill.

Seemed logical enough to me.

However, having now stopped being sick, and having managed to eat a bit yesterday, I feel much better, and far less stressed about everything, including work. So it is possible that I was in fact suffering from a bug of some sort, and the horrible stressy dreams were caused by the physical ailment, rather than the other way round.

Anyway. Not being sick now, so that's good.

Today I plan to do some preparations for Christmas, as I have been feeling either too busy, too disinterested or too sickly to do anything about it so far.

Might go into town later and get some more Christmas cards from the charity shops, which will give me an excuse to have a good rummage about. Always interesting, seeing what other people have got rid of.

When I was a student, many hundreds of years ago, I furnished my teeny little student flat thingy from charity shops. And most of my wardrobe came from them too, that and jumble sales. Do people still hold jumble sales?

I used to find some great stuff. I remember a long soft, flowing grey/blue skirt with a heavily embroidered hem which I bought, altered and lived in for about 6 months. I thought I looked gorgeous.

One afternoon I was walking through town with a mate, wearing aforesaid lovely skirt, and a little old lady came up to us. She took hold of my arm and looked at me intently.

Little Old Lady: "Know what you look like?"

Me: ""

Little Old Lady: "Bloody awful."

Then she strode off into the sunset, leaving me standing open-mouthed in the street, as my mate fell about laughing.

I can't wait to be old enough to get away with doing that to people.

Wednesday, 28 November 2007

New Ambition

Tuesday, 27 November 2007

Dubious promises

Was looking at the Amazon website for Christmas inspiration. I love that they are offering a delivery service called Amazon Prime. Sounds like a huge scary Transformer mega-villain.

Look out! Amazon Prime is on his way, demolishing everything in his path!


My eye was drawn to the claim made about one of the in-car satnav guidance systems.

The headline said "Drive Like a Local". As if that would be a good thing.

This morning, driving like a local would have entailed being in a huge, mud-encrusted tractor, doing 14 miles an hour, your big dog sitting beside you in the cab glaring at the people in the cars following you, that you were splattering with enormous wet globs of mud as you trundled along in the middle of the road.

You bastard.

Monday, 26 November 2007


And what is more, Free Cake!


I won a rather fine Christmas cake in a raffle at work today. It has icing and everything.

What is particularly sad though, is that I have now booked Friday off to go Christmas shopping.


Because the cake sat on my desk all afternoon making me feel guilty about not having done anything about Christmas yet.

I am being guilted by baked goods. Gah.

Run to the Hills

Well, didn't go and play Airsoft in the end. I will next time though.

Mr WithaY assures me it was great fun, and tremendous glory was had by all. All those on the "Aggressive Yellow" team, mind, not the wimpy Red Team, who apparently were a bunch of big girls and failed to achieve their objectives in anything like as cool a way as the Yellows.

He came home covered in mud, completely exhausted, saying "Oh my God. I am OLD". Serves him right for going out to play with a bunch of twenty-somethings.

Apparently they sell all kinds of pyrotechnics there. Mr WithaY had to buy some. See my earlier remarks on his Compulsory Firework Purchasing Disorder. Still looking for a self help group on that, by the way.

He was full of tales of derring-do, all of which which seemed to involve lobbing grenades at the enemy, which then bounced off tree branches and landed among his own team, exploding and causing mayhem. Heh.

Reminds me of our days fighting in the musket block, blowing stuff up. Ah, the romance.

Other news. Getting a bit tired of moussaka now. Still loads left. It was lovely, mind.

I looked at the recipe and thought "Hmm, that's not much for four hungry (alright, greedy) people," and I doubled up the quantities. I think I realised it was a mistake when the damn thing wouldn't all fit in my huge casserole dish and I ended up making two lots.

Still, meant I could sit on the sofa last night eating tasty leftovers and watching Shrek 2 on DVD. Marvellous. I love being a grown-up.

Saturday, 24 November 2007


Well, just got it in the oven. Bloody hell it takes a lot of making.

Smells nice though.

I used a Delia Smith recipe (can't go wrong with out Delia) which involved sprinkling the sliced aubergines with salt, leaving them squashed under a plate for 30 minutes and then shallow frying them all till they were golden brown. And boy, were there lots.


Put the radio on while I was making a cup of tea. Is that Vic Reeves show a joke? Sounds like a 6th Form attempt at comedy, broadcast from a teenager's bedroom.

Bloody hell.

Embarrassing to listen to. I hope he was pissed while he made it because otherwise he's just completely lost the plot.

Slash and burn

My preferred gardening style.

Spent an hour or so outside yesterday hacking stuff down*. God it was satisfying. Filled the green wheelie-bin with bits of rose bush, weeds, clematis and other assorted stuff that looked like it was dead. Well, it is now, anyway.

My hands are a mess though. Even with gloves on, the evil bastard Sleeping Beauty stylee brambles which have started to colonise the front garden managed to hack me to ribbons. Big thorny fuckers.

Still, they are stuffed in the bin along with loads of other stuff, so who's laughing now? Not the brambles, matey.

Other news: Discovered Scrabble via the web. As if I didn't spend enough time on the internet. Spent a satisfying hour playing via Facebook. It's great when you discover that your mates are just as evil and over-competitive as you.

If I could hook up a life-support system I'd never have to go out again. In a bubble thing. You know the sort.

Once again, the future is NOT what Star Trek promised. Gah.

(Note: I was going to put a link here to a previous "why isn't life like Star Trek" rant, but it's buried in the middle of the huge single posting from when I transferred from MySpace to Blogger. So if you're interested, you'll have to go right back to the start and find it yourself. Sorry.)

Am planning on making moussaka this afternoon to feed our mates when they come over tonight. Never made it before but how hard can it be? It's just a lasagne with ideas, really. And if it's shite I'll make some nice bread or something to draw their attention away.

We're all off to play Airsoft tomorrow**. That's where you get given a modified AK47and run round the woods blasting your mates with biodegradeable ball bearings.


I came home from the last game with loads of interesting bruises, especially the long line of small circular ones all the way up the inside of my leg, up over my tummy*** and over my shoulder. I was creeping (I thought imperceptibly) towards some enemy players, but they spotted me and raked me with machine-gun fire from about 3 directions.


So it's shameful because you're crap at sneaking, and painful when they hit you. I might suggest it as a teambuilding thing at work. Heh.

*In my garden, not just at random.

**If it's not raining. In the event of inclement weather I will be in front of the fire with a cup of tea and a good book.

***Quite a long way

Thursday, 22 November 2007


Yes, I look like a panda.

Forgot I was wearing mascara for a change and scared the shit out of myself when I walked past a mirror earlier. I look tired AND dead. If I was skinny I'd look like a Goth.

Have been wasting my life on the internet this evening, whilst playing my guitar. All very relaxing. Just as well after the big scary meeting at work today.

Whoever arranged the working lunch was a genius. A dozen Very Senior and Important People Indeed sat round the conference table, tucking into little bags of crisps like seven-year-olds on a school trip. Hilarious.

Still, kept them all reasonably quiet while I did my bit. Apart from the rustling of all the crisp bags.

Heard a fab story yesterday. A colleage was reminiscing about the good old days when computers were new and scary. Apparently he shared an office with several other guys and they had a little standalone machine in there which everyone was terrified of.

A very senior manager came on a visit, popped into this office and spotted the computer.

Very Senior Manager: Oh well done! A computer! Do you use it much?

Nervous underling: Um....a bit.

Very Senior Manager: (encouragingly) Yeeeees? And what do you use it for?

Nervous underling: Well, it's really handy for making lined paper. For when we send stuff over to the typists.

It seems they only used the computer to print out page upon page of lined paper so they could hand draft all their letters and take them to the tying pool.

How times have changed.

I hope.

Tuesday, 20 November 2007

Rock Chick

Yes, really.

Had a superb guitar lesson this evening. Learned The Hives "Hate To Say I Told You So", Jefferson Starship's "Jane" and we did a cracking version of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" - me on rhythm, my lovely teacher providing the (and I quote) face-melting guitar solo. We also did a fine version of Neil Young's "Rocking in the Free World"

Bloody excellent.

And I made him listen to Whitesnake's "Child of Babylon" which he hadn't heard before. I sang that in a folk club once. When they asked if I'd like to perform, I stood up and belted that out.

There was a bit of a stunned silence, then the compere said "Um...very good. Who's that by?" He looked a bit wounded when I said "Whitesnake".

People should sing more. It's good for the soul.

Sunday, 18 November 2007

Coffee to go

Got home this afternoon from visiting some mates up in Nottingham. It was a lovely visit. We saw their house for the first time, they had arranged a fantastic dinner party with some excellently entertaining mates of theirs, we heard all about their incredible adventures in Pakistan, and we ended the evening by singing along to a karaoke dvd at the top of our lungs.

Ahhhh, classic home entertainment. I love singing. As does our host. It was very, very pleasant.

The drive home this afternoon was a bit of a nightmare though. Some fuckwit had had an accident on the M42 and we ended up sitting in a traffic queue for the best part of an hour, while it got colder and colder.

The rain turned to sleet, which meant Mr WithaY and I could have the "Ooh, perhaps we'll get a proper winter this year" conversation. Which was nice.

We ended up calling in at the supermarket in Bath on the way home as it would have been too late by the time we got back here, did a grocery shop, scooted home, then had a nice cup of tea and some scones.*


On the way up there on Saturday morning we stopped off at some services on (I think) the M5 for a drink and a bite of breakfast.

There were two or three little old ladies in the queue ahead of us, chatting and giggling quietly. They were Welsh, and none of them was over about 5'2". I got the impression they didn't get out much, and this was a bit of an adventure for them. We stood patiently behind** them, doing our famed "Godzilla devastating Tokyo" impression whenever they weren't looking.

We stood there for quite some time, as there was only one girl serving at the counter. Who would ever imagine a coffee bar being busy at 11am on a Saturday?

Not fucking Costa, that's for sure. Gah.

While we stood there, more and more teeny old ladies appeared, joining their mates in front of us. I didnt realise for ages because my attention had been diverted by the World's Ugliest Rugby Fans. I think a coachload had arrived, and boy, they were unattractive. Distractingly so.

Anyway. When I looked at the queue in front of me, bugger me if it hadn't grown from about 3 little old ladies to about 12. And no, I am not kidding.

Mr WithaY and I glared at them in increasing irritation but without saying anything, obviously. Far too British to make a scene, oh dear me no.

I tried to defuse the situation by saying to him "Don't stress, they're old, they'll die soon." His response? "They fucking will if they do that again." Classic.

It gets better.

They then started the "Oh, I just want a coffee please dear" thing to the girl behind the counter, who reeled off all the options available, and they all nodded sagely and said "Yeeees, just a coffee please."

It went on for what felt like a week. Eventually an understanding was reached and the girl said "Is that to go?" Oooh yes, it was to go, thank you very much love.

After another hellish eternity the twelve coffees were handed over in paper "to go" cups. There was much excitement about paying (Paying! At the till! What an idea!), but it finally got done.

Then we had the Dance of the Napkins, Sugar, Stirrers, More Napkins, and "extra milk, ooh, tip a bit out love, bit more, bit more, ooh, lovely", and finally, finally, it was our turn.

We got our drinks and lunch (we'd missed breakfast by now) and turned to find a table.

Fuck me, if all the tables were't filled by all the little old ladies, with their "to go" coffees.


I had started laughing by now, and had to sit down until it stopped. I think they thought I was a mentalist on a day out.

*which I made as soon as we got in, because I had been fantasising in the traffic queue about a cup of team and warm scones with butter. No, I don't know why.

**loomed over

Friday, 16 November 2007

Still frosty

Off to Bath in a bit. The place. Not the activity.

Heh, I make myself laugh.

Anyway, driving over to the office there, dropping some stuff off, having a chat about the general rubbishness of the IT system and then coming back here to work at home this afternoon.

I have a ton of planning to do, and here I can do it in my slippers. Bonus.

It's another glorious frosty sunny morning. I could get used to this.

Feeling far less crap and grumpy today, which is a relief. Hurrah.

Thursday, 15 November 2007


Still grumpy, which is partly because I've been a bit under the weather.

Went out for a fab Chinese on Tuesday night, as planned, but was then sick for 24 hours afterwards. I don't think it was anything I ate that night because everyone else was fine, and we all ate the same stuff. It meant I had hardly any sleep on Tuesday night*, stayed at home on Wednesday being sad and sorry for myself, and am in the office today with a headache and a bit of a scowly old face.

Did the rest of the job interviews this morning, which went ok I think. I have to drive to Bath tomorrow with all the associated paperwork because our HR system is a bit, well, crap. It's a long and tiresome story, but basically there is no indication on the computer system that if you fill in the electronic forms in the wrong order you lock everyone else out of that bit of the system. I went all the bloody way through the on-line "help" to check**.

So, I did what I thought was the right thing, accidentally buggered it all up, and then got a frankly rather cheeky telling-off from the HR goon over the phone. Words will be had when I see them about appropriate telephone manners and customer relations.

Other news: Really beautiful frost this morning. It was -2 outside the house this morning as I scraped ice off the car. Driving across Salisbury Plain was lovely. All the trees and grasses were covered in hoar frost and the sun was shining. Magical. Bit cold though.

I went to the supermarket in town to fill the car up with diesel before work today. It costs £1.07 at our local petrol station. Bloody atrocious. Only (only! ha!) £1.02 at the supermarket.

Our American mates were horrified when they worked out that we are paying about 9 US dollars a gallon for fuel. I think they said they pay about 3.

It's getting to the point where we are having to seriously consider which journeys we can cut out to save on fuel.

I only ever seem to go to work or the supermarket anyway. Gah.

*Kept feeling like I was going to barf...ugh

**Looking for more evidence of crapness

Tuesday, 13 November 2007

Grumpy. Well, a bit.

Have been feeling a bit low and grumpy. Might be because I am tired after the weekend, which was lovely by the way. Having the Middle Sis and family to stay was great. Children were entertaining, Sis and bro-in-law were on good form, we ate and drank and talked bollocks. All good.

Maybe it's the aftermath of the last month or so of hectic stuff - overseas guests, Kevin the Decorator, new carpets, work going ballistic - but I felt like I just wanted to go to sleep and stay that way indefinitely yesterday. Resorted to having a little weep mid-afternoon and was more or less ok afterwards. I was working at home so could make a cup of tea and sniffle pathetically in private for a few minutes.

How pathetic. Me a grown woman.

Mr WithaY was up at 6 today to get the train to London for a meeting. Gah. I hate early starts.

On the plus side, we're off out for a Chinese with some of our lovely neighbours to help one of them celebrate her birthday. Mmmmm. Chinese. That'll be two in a week, as we had a monster fatboy takeaway on Saturday night as well.

Mmmmm. Fattening.

Other news: Have been conducting interviews at work all this morning for my new team, which was interesting. It's been years since I was on the scary side of an interview. And more to come on Thursday. Hurrah.

Was reminded about something that happened at the firework and local radio gala we were at the other weekend. There was loud funky music blaring out from the fairground rides, and as it was chilly I started jigging about a bit. Mr WithaY stood perfectly still, patiently waiting for the fireworks.

Me: Come on, have a little dance!

Mr W: I am dancing.

(A few moments pass, I keep jigging)

Me: Awww, come on, dance a bit.

Mr W: I am.

Me: You are not!

Mr W: My aura is dancing.


Monday, 12 November 2007

Probably breaching copyright

I loved this.

BBC Upgrades Flap To Row
November 9, 2007 | Issue 43•45

Friday, 9 November 2007

Weekend plans

Hurrah! Middle Sis and family are due here tonight for the weekend, which I am very much looking forward to. Been bloody months since we last met up so it will be great to catch up.

The new carpet looks very nice, albeit not the colour I thought it was going to be. I might take a scrap of the leftover stuff to the shop to compare with the sample, just to check I am not going mad.

Mind you, if it is the wrong colour, what will I do? Have it all ripped up and replaced? Can't bear the thought of all that disruption.

And it looks fine. Really. A bit beiger than I anticipated, but not too bad at all.

The entire house is full of carpet fluff though. I reckon it'll be the other side of Christmas before we get rid of it all. Still, makes finding dust bunnies more exciting. Dust Elephants.

Thursday, 8 November 2007

Success. And carpets.

Hurrah for me! Held the First Ever Inaugural Major Important Significant Big Old Meeting for my work project yesterday and nobody threw stuff, shouted or told me I was an idiot.

So, good.

Work has been really busy, and also really interesting for the last couple of weeks. Good again. Even looks like I might be getting some more staff which will take the pressure off a bit.

Our recruitment process is Byzantine. Internal recruitment, mind. People who already work for us and fancy a bit of a change. Not even having to advertise outside. Takes forever and if you get it wrong you get chased up and down the corridors by hungry, angry wolverines. I believe. I may need to read up on the personnel regs to confirm that.

Only downside is that I have had to be in the office a lot more than of late, which means more driving and less staring out of my window at home at all the lovely scenery*.

Other news: The carpet blokes have been in this morning, fitting new carpets for the stairs, landing and bedrooms. Mr WithaY is at home supervising. We had a delightful evening last night ripping up the old carpets and dumping them in the garden.

The dust! The filth! The stench! And that was just me cooking supper.

Apparently there has already been a disaster this morning. When the carpet blokes dropped the underlay on the upstairs landing, they managed to dislodge the glass lightshade out of the hall light below, so that smashed all over the floor.

That means I will have to try and find a new shade, or, failing that**, get an electrician to replace the whole bloody thing because it is one of those "flat against the ceiling" lights that have to be wired in properly.


And they're charging us an extra fifty quid for "Moving furniture" because we hadn't emptied the entire upstairs of all our stuff. I can only assume they had imagined we would be stacking the beds, chests of drawers, desks, chairs and all other bits and bobs in the front garden. Bastards.

All my guitars are carefully placed in the sitting room until it's over. It was a bit Spinal Tap last night as we sat there watching Heroes.

I carefully disconnected my internet modem box connection thingy and packed my laptop away so it should survive unscathed. Unless they drop fucking underlay on it of course.

I anticipate a challenging evening of trying to reconnect to the internet and get everything working properly again. At least there is plenty of tasty leftover last-night-supper*** to keep me going.

*and the petrol station, which is interesting in itself. Sometimes it gets robbed.

**which is pretty likely, as that kind of light is usually sold as a complete unit. Gah.

***still being a domestic goddess, but only intermittently at the moment.

Tuesday, 6 November 2007

Cultural void

While our American mates were staying with us we became intimately acquainted with all kinds of TV channels we didn't even know we have access to. No, not that kind. Tch.

Fox News for example.

If you have the free satellite channels, check it out. For vapid, un-analytical, self-referential trivia, it's unsurpassed. I watched in open-mouthed dismay as they ran (heh) a story about some chap who was going to take part in the New York Marathon. Barefoot.

Now that in itself is quite an interesting little story.

He was being sponsored to support a charity, he was reasonably articulate, and came across as being someone who might be worth listening to. Did we get the chance to listen to him?

Did we bollocks.

His 30-second appearance was swamped by the ditzy* blonde female news anchor wittering on about how she knew a great place down the road where he could get a pedicure.

Example of one of her interview questions: "You mean to say you've never had a pedicure? Not EVER? Oh wow!"

Then they did a lengthy sequence (I think live) where various news anchors ran around barefoot, shrieking and going "Woo!" a lot. They also compared pedicures.

Pulitzer prize material it was not.

Anyway, we watched Fox because our guests were desperate to find out the baseball and American football results.**

In the end they found out from "Russia Today" on a different channel which I thought was both ironic and amusing.

They were also trying to follow the progress of the huge storm that was sweeping up across the Eastern seaboard.

Guess where they eventually found a decent weather report?

Al Jazeera. Heh.

So. No intelligent news on the American news channel, no weather and no sports. Lots of footage of plastic-haired grinning idiots exchanging painfully scripted banter, though.

So that's alright then.

*I'm guessing she'd see that as a compliment, though. Idiot.

**Red Socks won, New England Patriots won, they were very happy.

Sunday, 4 November 2007

Loud Bangs

Had an amusing time at the local bonfire and firework thingy last night, marred only by the ridiculously long wait between lighting the fire and starting the fireworks. Getting on for an hour and a half, I reckon.

All so the local halfwit radio station presenters could screech "Woo! Yeah! Let's part-ay!" over the tannoy. Over and over again. The adoring crowd of potato-headed fans (total number - about 6) stood slack-jawed and hot-dog covered until the fireworks started, when they all pointed vacuously at the sky instead.

Probably trying to work out why the stars were falling. I look forward to the panic-stricken letters to the local paper next week.


Saw a bat flying about among the rising embers of the fire. Was probably getting really pissed off that every moth he grabbed turned out to be red hot.

Getting out at the end was a bit of a shambles. Everyone stampeded for the exit the minute the last rocket had done its thing, so there was a massive queue. The soldiers who were managing the traffic did their best but it was obvious that it was going to take ages to get everyone out.

We got stuck behind a nervous young girl who was disinclined to push out into the ever-increasing stream of traffic, which was a bit tiresome. She plucked up courage eventually, and we waited to take our turn. Sadly, the utter bastards in the moving traffic began to squeeze closer and closer together, preventing anyone else pulling into the line. Most annoying, as we had been waiting patiently for half an hour by this time.

Suddenly a large shaven-headed* bloke leapt out of his car and stood in front of the moving traffic, stopping it in its tracks. He waved us out, saying "Go on mate, you were there first" which I thought was very nice of him.

And then home for chilli and beer. Hurrah.

Off out shortly to a neighbour's for another firework party. It transpires that Mr WithaY has some sort of medical condition which means he cannot walk past a shop selling fireworks without buying a load. Tragic really.

I might start a charity.

*and not at all potato-like

Saturday, 3 November 2007


Well, Mr WithaY and our lovely American mates are all back home safe and sound.

Apparently the taxi driver who picked them up from the airport had "teeth like a hockey player" which is a great description.

We're off to the local firework display this evening as they don't do Bonfire Night over there, then coming back home to eat our own weight in chilli and beer.

And we have heat and hot water which is a relief. The boiler man left me a long and complicated list of Things We* Must Do with the heating to ensure it doesn't blow up/fall over/have a hissy fit next time Mr WithaY leaves the country.

Last time he was away (diving in the Red Sea in January) it stopped working - different reason though, of course. I got home from work late one evening, cold, tired, hungry, to be greeted by an excited message on the answerphone saying "I've been swimming with dolphins! It's 24 degrees here! I'm so happy!"

I believe bad language may have been used on my part as I donned several fleeces, mittens and extra socks and ate my solitary supper.

Other news: Fucking rat came out from under the shed while we were sat eating lunch today. Scampered cheerfully across the lawn and back again while we watched it. Some Lidl's finest chocolate was carefully deployed to lure it back out and Mr WithaY took up the sniping posision from the Window Of Doom. Sure enough, 30 seconds later it was a ex-rat.

Ugh. Bloody things.

We discovered it had been digging about at the back of the compost bin, probably attracted by a whole egg that some fool** had left in there. We filled in the hole and Mr WithaY broke the egg with a stone***. Oh my word, what a smell.

And on that edifying note, time to go shopping for sour cream and salad for tonight.

* For "We" read "Professional plumbing type". I have no intention of attempting any of it myself.


***from quite a distance...deadeye dick or what?

Friday, 2 November 2007


On the Great Leader quiz I came out as Saddam Hussein.


On the plus side...

I have shamelessly nicked badgerdaddy's link and am delighted that I have this result.

One of the best films ever.

Boiler issues

The boiler man is here, and we need a new pump, as well as loads of other expensive-sounding parts.

Bollocks, I say.

Seems that the water pressure in the system had got low (which implies there is a leak which is worrying), so when the heating switched itself on in the morning, the pump seized and the boiler overheated.

So that explains the loud "Sproing" noise that woke me up in the wee small hours.

Arse AND bollocks, I say.

Thursday, 1 November 2007

Still cold

Well, the house is dark, dank and gloomy. My every step echoes through a desolate void. The world is a hard and lonely place*.


Still, Mr WithaY and the American mates are back tomorrow. Hurrah.

The upstairs hot water isn't working, as I discovered when I was taking a shower this morning. Not something you want to find out after you start washing your hair. Past the point of no return, once shampoo is involved.

I spent a jolly half hour on the phone before I left for work, begging the boiler engineery fixey people to come out and fix it. They said "We'll be there on Monday".

I believe my anguished cry could be heard in Gloucester.

I explained** that we have no heating and no hot water, and that I was due a houseful of guests on Friday.

God, the Americans already think we live in the Dark Ages, still coping with rationing, oil lamps and the 3 day week. No central heating and having to wash in the kitchen sink would really put the tin hat on that.


The general consensus at work is that Mr WithaY is texting the boiler from France to encourage it to save on oil.

I was supposed to be driving to Bournemouth airport tomorrow afternoon to pick them all up but have arranged a taxi instead as I need to be here for the boiler man. Gah.

Other news: Was on a training course at work on Monday and Tuesday (hence not being in France with everyone else) which was interesting. In a sad "Not as good as the South of France" kind of way.

Had a cracking guitar lesson on Monday with my gorgeous teacher. I have been left with strict instructions to listen to Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" so I can learn it. I don't think I've ever heard it. One of my lovely on-line mates told me to learn it months ago, so I will have to get my finger out and get listening.

So. Off to YouTube later.

Yep. Think that's about it for me today.

*Still bored being here on my own.

**I think he picked up how stressed I was at the point where I said "Just leave it, never mind....please. I will find a plumber who can come out today." I think my normally beautifully-modulated voice may have wobbled a little too.