Hm, it seems that Blogger is eating comments. This has happened in the past - I've had an email notification on my iPhone saying there is a comment waiting to be moderated, and then when I login to Blogger on the PC there isn't one there. Very odd.
I can even see who it's from and what it said via the email, so it's doubly annoying not to be able to add it to the blog.
So, based on my imperfect memory of the comment, here's my reply: Mr London Street - you are quite right, it was a shit remake.
Other news: Mr WithaY and I are both still poorly. I have been signed off work for another week, as I am still coughing like a bastard, although I am slowly recovering. I keep thinking I am ok, so try to do something mildly domestic like ironing, or cooking lunch, whereupon I cough till I almost pass out. It's all very tiresome and unpleasant.
The weather over the weekend was depressing, cold and wet, adding to the general air of malaise and gloom in the WithaY household. What with that and the carefully-planted beans looking as if they are all dying, it's been a bit sad.
Mr WithaY has been cheering himself up this afternoon by researching Kentucky long rifles online, and I have been looking at guitar websites. Part of me is thinking I ought to sell my Rickenbacker as I seldom play it, but the part I am listening to says "No! You'll never find another one!"
One of the many things I hate about having a chest infection is that I can't sing. At all. Hell, I can barely speak. And that means that my enthusiasm for playing my guitar drops away to almost zero, and my fingers soften up and then I get cross when I do try to play because it hurts so much. Gah.
Well, now that I've spread a little sunshine, I will go and make supper.
Showing posts with label Rickenbackers are expensive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rickenbackers are expensive. Show all posts
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Friday, 9 October 2009
Appointed
Told him. Am being referred. And I only wept a little bit, which is an improvement. Yay me.
He said I need to be aware that depression could strike me down like a huge, mace-wielding vengeful demon* once the SSFH** is no longer foremost in my mind, though, and I have to watch out for that. So I will.
Fingers crossed that tomorrow will be a nice day as we are planning a trip to the Wood Fair. See the link over on the right there to the one we went to before. Under "Grand Days Out"...it's called "Wood." Can't miss it.
I also need to pick up my Rickenbacker from the shop. Apparently the bridge needed raising, as somehow, mysteriously, it was too low. Hmm, how can that have happened I wonder? Might it have been when it was restrung a few months back? We shall see what, if anything, they try to charge me for fixing something that I think they broke in the first place. Heh.
Other news: I have made several deeply moving recordings of Mr WithaY making beautiful music on his didgeridoo. Now I need to work out how to install them on the blog.
*I paraphrase slightly
**Shit Storm from Hades
He said I need to be aware that depression could strike me down like a huge, mace-wielding vengeful demon* once the SSFH** is no longer foremost in my mind, though, and I have to watch out for that. So I will.
Fingers crossed that tomorrow will be a nice day as we are planning a trip to the Wood Fair. See the link over on the right there to the one we went to before. Under "Grand Days Out"...it's called "Wood." Can't miss it.
I also need to pick up my Rickenbacker from the shop. Apparently the bridge needed raising, as somehow, mysteriously, it was too low. Hmm, how can that have happened I wonder? Might it have been when it was restrung a few months back? We shall see what, if anything, they try to charge me for fixing something that I think they broke in the first place. Heh.
Other news: I have made several deeply moving recordings of Mr WithaY making beautiful music on his didgeridoo. Now I need to work out how to install them on the blog.
*I paraphrase slightly
**Shit Storm from Hades
Sunday, 4 October 2009
Mixed signals
I'm still here. Just not filling this little corner of the Internet with quite as much trivia and nonsense insightful social commentary as usual.
I am, however, feeling much better than I was. I'm still going to see the doctor next week though, as I am pretty far from normal.
It has helped that the weather was glorious all week. It's colder, as you'd expect, what with being October and all, but it's been clear and bright, with the trees just starting to turn colour. Very scenic.
Bestest Mate very kindly came over and stayed for a couple of days, which was lovely, so the week didn't feel as lonely as I thought it might at the outset.
One afternoon we went out for a little walk. I wanted to show him the new bridge over the river, so we wandered down to it and stood there watching trout in the afternoon sunshine. As it was such a lovely day we decided to take a stroll round the village and enjoy the weather. We got as far as a mates' house* and decided to call in and say hello. Luckily (for us) we interrupted them having tea, so we were invited to join them. Mmmm tea.
We sat and had a cup of tea, chatting about all sorts of stuff, when our host happened to glance down at the plate of buttered malt loaf he had placed beside his chair. There was an anguished cry of "Cat! No! You're kicking the arse out of it!" as he lifted their cat off the table. It had snuck round quietly and amused itself by licking all the butter off each slice while we sat talking. Heh.
That evening we went over to another mate's for dinner, which was mighty fine. Bestest Mate had to endure a whole evening of intense cross-examination**, being a comparative stranger round here. At one point our host enquired of his wife "Would you like a slightly brighter light to shine in his eyes?" which made me laugh.
Friday night there was a band playing in the pub, so I wandered over to take a peek. They were pretty good, but it was a bit of a shame there weren't more people there to enjoy them.
I left at about 11, back home to await Mr WithaY's arrival. I'd been checking flight details online throughout the day, and his was supposed to land at Gatwick at 9.30pm. Allowing about an hour for baggage, customs and car park sorting-out, two hours for the drive home, I expected to see him back here about midnight-ish.
I sat up till almost 1am, then gave up and went to bed, leaving lights on so he would at least get to see the glorious new paintwork as soon as he arrived. Apparently he actually got home at around 2.30am; his plane was very late in arriving, so he thoughtfully took himself off to the spare room rather than come crashing in and waking me up in the wee small hours.
He knows that's a bad idea.
Anyhoo. He managed a week of diving in the Red Sea without having anything bitten off by sharks. He has got some spectacular bruises from falling down a companionway, or onto a belaying pin, or into a bilge or something***.
Other news: I had to take my gorgeous Rickenbacker back to the shop to get it looked at. It was unplayable, which makes me feel better about the couple of times I tried playing it (before the string broke) and sounded shite. I think the action got lowered when it was restrung a while back. It was ok when you played a string open, but as soon as you fretted it there was just a lot of buzz, and no music at all. Bah.
Also, I have bought a digital radio for the kitchen. The signal on the old FM radio has degraded rapidly over the last couple of months, to the point where I often had to switch it off in exasperation. Bestest Mate suggested we went to Asda, as we were in Frome anyway, so we called in. I bought some new pillows, as the ones in the spare room were apparently not hypo-allergenic enough, and then looked at their electrical stuff.
Digital radios for £25! Incredible. So I bought one, and it sounds great. I can't pick up Planet Rock on it, which is a bit of a blow, but the BBC stations are fine.
Asda had the world's biggest selection of horrible Halloween shite I have ever seen, including a "joke" severed arm that actually turned my stomach. Gah.
Back to Bristol next week for a couple of days, then London on Thursday. I need to renew my season ticket. Almost five grand! Gah again.
*Hello Lynn! Hello Richard!
**It began with "So what do you do for a living?" and gradually ramped up to "So you're really not gay?"
***I'm not a sailor, but I can get by with the lingo, as you see.
I am, however, feeling much better than I was. I'm still going to see the doctor next week though, as I am pretty far from normal.
It has helped that the weather was glorious all week. It's colder, as you'd expect, what with being October and all, but it's been clear and bright, with the trees just starting to turn colour. Very scenic.
Bestest Mate very kindly came over and stayed for a couple of days, which was lovely, so the week didn't feel as lonely as I thought it might at the outset.
One afternoon we went out for a little walk. I wanted to show him the new bridge over the river, so we wandered down to it and stood there watching trout in the afternoon sunshine. As it was such a lovely day we decided to take a stroll round the village and enjoy the weather. We got as far as a mates' house* and decided to call in and say hello. Luckily (for us) we interrupted them having tea, so we were invited to join them. Mmmm tea.
We sat and had a cup of tea, chatting about all sorts of stuff, when our host happened to glance down at the plate of buttered malt loaf he had placed beside his chair. There was an anguished cry of "Cat! No! You're kicking the arse out of it!" as he lifted their cat off the table. It had snuck round quietly and amused itself by licking all the butter off each slice while we sat talking. Heh.
That evening we went over to another mate's for dinner, which was mighty fine. Bestest Mate had to endure a whole evening of intense cross-examination**, being a comparative stranger round here. At one point our host enquired of his wife "Would you like a slightly brighter light to shine in his eyes?" which made me laugh.
Friday night there was a band playing in the pub, so I wandered over to take a peek. They were pretty good, but it was a bit of a shame there weren't more people there to enjoy them.
I left at about 11, back home to await Mr WithaY's arrival. I'd been checking flight details online throughout the day, and his was supposed to land at Gatwick at 9.30pm. Allowing about an hour for baggage, customs and car park sorting-out, two hours for the drive home, I expected to see him back here about midnight-ish.
I sat up till almost 1am, then gave up and went to bed, leaving lights on so he would at least get to see the glorious new paintwork as soon as he arrived. Apparently he actually got home at around 2.30am; his plane was very late in arriving, so he thoughtfully took himself off to the spare room rather than come crashing in and waking me up in the wee small hours.
He knows that's a bad idea.
Anyhoo. He managed a week of diving in the Red Sea without having anything bitten off by sharks. He has got some spectacular bruises from falling down a companionway, or onto a belaying pin, or into a bilge or something***.
Other news: I had to take my gorgeous Rickenbacker back to the shop to get it looked at. It was unplayable, which makes me feel better about the couple of times I tried playing it (before the string broke) and sounded shite. I think the action got lowered when it was restrung a while back. It was ok when you played a string open, but as soon as you fretted it there was just a lot of buzz, and no music at all. Bah.
Also, I have bought a digital radio for the kitchen. The signal on the old FM radio has degraded rapidly over the last couple of months, to the point where I often had to switch it off in exasperation. Bestest Mate suggested we went to Asda, as we were in Frome anyway, so we called in. I bought some new pillows, as the ones in the spare room were apparently not hypo-allergenic enough, and then looked at their electrical stuff.
Digital radios for £25! Incredible. So I bought one, and it sounds great. I can't pick up Planet Rock on it, which is a bit of a blow, but the BBC stations are fine.
Asda had the world's biggest selection of horrible Halloween shite I have ever seen, including a "joke" severed arm that actually turned my stomach. Gah.
Back to Bristol next week for a couple of days, then London on Thursday. I need to renew my season ticket. Almost five grand! Gah again.
*Hello Lynn! Hello Richard!
**It began with "So what do you do for a living?" and gradually ramped up to "So you're really not gay?"
***I'm not a sailor, but I can get by with the lingo, as you see.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Another brick in the wall
I went and had my hair cut yesterday. Well, it had been four months since the last time. I suppose I am fortunate having hair that doesn't actually need much doing to it, but it does need cutting every so often or I start to look like one of those old statues of Poseiden, all curling tendrils and seaweedy ringlets.
The girl who washed my hair was charming, chatty and friendly, asking me about my plans for the rest of the day, and what I did for a living. So I told her. There was a long pause, then she said "Oooh, I bet you have to read a lot for that, don't you?" Yes, I told her, I do have to read a lot. "And you need to be able to remember things, as well?" Yes, indeed. Remembering things is top of my list of tasks, most days.
I might insist it becomes one of my objectives for next year: Remembering Things. Coming up with some performance measures will be fun. It'll be like a magic show. "So, what was the number I first thought of? Yes! Correct. You have attained your objective, well done."
Anyhoo. She was telling me about a book she'd read, all about some high-powered career woman who loses her memory* and has to rebuild her life. She told me she'd bought the book at the airport on her way to her holiday, as her friend told her she had brought a book to read "and I couldn't just sit on the beach while she was reading, could I?"
She then told me it was the first book she'd ever read all the way through. I was honestly stunned to silence.
I guess she was in her early 20s. How on Earth do you get all the way through the education system, whether you get any qualifications or not, without ever reading a fucking book all the way through?
When I recovered my equilibrium, I asked her if she was planning on reading any more books by the same author as she'd enjoyed that one. She said she might, but the other book she knew about was the one that the film Shopaholic was based on. There was no point reading that, as she already knew what was going to happen.
Gah.
Other news: I went to the music shop to buy some new strings for my gorgeous Rickenbacker.
Me: Can I have some steel strings for a 12-string please?
Music shop flunky: Um. Let me ask a colleage.
(Conference out of earshot, worried glances in my direction.)
Music shop flunky: Here you are. (Handing me the packet nervously) These are the only 12-string strings we have. Fifteen pounds please.
Me: O-kay. Thank you. Bye!
(Time passes, I wander Salisbury in the hot sun, look at jewellery and don't buy any, go to a few shoe shops but see nothing I like, fight my way through the market looking for cheap fruit to make jam but am thwarted by huge crowds of chavs and nutters, so decide to head back to the car. En route I look again at the guitar string packet.)
Me: (to myself in the street) Fuck it, these are for an acoustic.
(Back to the music shop, where I explain to the crowd of flunkies that in fact I needed electric strings, not acoustic. Sorry, didn't specify at the time, etcetera etcetera etcetera. More nervous conferences by the staff.)
Music shop flunky: We only have those strings. They'll be alright though.
Me: No, they are for an acoustic guitar, mine is electric.
Music shop flunky: (as senior colleague appears in the manner of the shopkeeper from Mr Benn) But they'll be alright.
Me: No, I don't think they will. If you can give me my money back, I'll try somewhere else. (waving the receipt at them)
Senior colleague: What's the problem? (Problem is explained to him) Oh! I can sell you a set of normal strings - you can just double them up!
Me: No, I'd rather get a new set of 12-strings thanks.
Senior colleague (getting more enthusiastic) But I can sell you a single string! Which one is broken?
Me: The B, but I don't want a single string, I could just use one of the spares I have at home if I was going to do that.
Senior colleague: And this is an electric 12-string? Really? They are very rare, are you sure?
Me: (with a touch of exasperation now) Yes. It's electric. It's a Rickenbacker 620/12. I'll find somewhere that sells the right strings, thanks anyway.
(Exit stage left, in a glow of smug fine guitar ownership pride, with my money back.)
They really wanted to make that sale. Must have been a quiet day.
I am waiting for Mr WithaY to return from a diving trip off the Dorset coast. He has suggested that he might be bringing scallops. Mmmmm hand-dived scallops. And if he does, we shall eat like fat greedy kings.
I made a rather splendid curry the other night. You had to put an onion, loads of garlic, tomato puree (although I used tinned tomatoes it as we had no puree), turmeric, chilli, loads of cashew nuts and garam masala in the blender, whizzed it all up, fried it in oil till it made a thick sauce, added diced chicken and cooked till the meat was done. Bloody lovely.
Also, I made fudge. It's very nice, thanks for asking.
*I can't remember what it was called or who it was by, which is rather ironic.
The girl who washed my hair was charming, chatty and friendly, asking me about my plans for the rest of the day, and what I did for a living. So I told her. There was a long pause, then she said "Oooh, I bet you have to read a lot for that, don't you?" Yes, I told her, I do have to read a lot. "And you need to be able to remember things, as well?" Yes, indeed. Remembering things is top of my list of tasks, most days.
I might insist it becomes one of my objectives for next year: Remembering Things. Coming up with some performance measures will be fun. It'll be like a magic show. "So, what was the number I first thought of? Yes! Correct. You have attained your objective, well done."
Anyhoo. She was telling me about a book she'd read, all about some high-powered career woman who loses her memory* and has to rebuild her life. She told me she'd bought the book at the airport on her way to her holiday, as her friend told her she had brought a book to read "and I couldn't just sit on the beach while she was reading, could I?"
She then told me it was the first book she'd ever read all the way through. I was honestly stunned to silence.
I guess she was in her early 20s. How on Earth do you get all the way through the education system, whether you get any qualifications or not, without ever reading a fucking book all the way through?
When I recovered my equilibrium, I asked her if she was planning on reading any more books by the same author as she'd enjoyed that one. She said she might, but the other book she knew about was the one that the film Shopaholic was based on. There was no point reading that, as she already knew what was going to happen.
Gah.
Other news: I went to the music shop to buy some new strings for my gorgeous Rickenbacker.
Me: Can I have some steel strings for a 12-string please?
Music shop flunky: Um. Let me ask a colleage.
(Conference out of earshot, worried glances in my direction.)
Music shop flunky: Here you are. (Handing me the packet nervously) These are the only 12-string strings we have. Fifteen pounds please.
Me: O-kay. Thank you. Bye!
(Time passes, I wander Salisbury in the hot sun, look at jewellery and don't buy any, go to a few shoe shops but see nothing I like, fight my way through the market looking for cheap fruit to make jam but am thwarted by huge crowds of chavs and nutters, so decide to head back to the car. En route I look again at the guitar string packet.)
Me: (to myself in the street) Fuck it, these are for an acoustic.
(Back to the music shop, where I explain to the crowd of flunkies that in fact I needed electric strings, not acoustic. Sorry, didn't specify at the time, etcetera etcetera etcetera. More nervous conferences by the staff.)
Music shop flunky: We only have those strings. They'll be alright though.
Me: No, they are for an acoustic guitar, mine is electric.
Music shop flunky: (as senior colleague appears in the manner of the shopkeeper from Mr Benn) But they'll be alright.
Me: No, I don't think they will. If you can give me my money back, I'll try somewhere else. (waving the receipt at them)
Senior colleague: What's the problem? (Problem is explained to him) Oh! I can sell you a set of normal strings - you can just double them up!
Me: No, I'd rather get a new set of 12-strings thanks.
Senior colleague (getting more enthusiastic) But I can sell you a single string! Which one is broken?
Me: The B, but I don't want a single string, I could just use one of the spares I have at home if I was going to do that.
Senior colleague: And this is an electric 12-string? Really? They are very rare, are you sure?
Me: (with a touch of exasperation now) Yes. It's electric. It's a Rickenbacker 620/12. I'll find somewhere that sells the right strings, thanks anyway.
(Exit stage left, in a glow of smug fine guitar ownership pride, with my money back.)
They really wanted to make that sale. Must have been a quiet day.
I am waiting for Mr WithaY to return from a diving trip off the Dorset coast. He has suggested that he might be bringing scallops. Mmmmm hand-dived scallops. And if he does, we shall eat like fat greedy kings.
I made a rather splendid curry the other night. You had to put an onion, loads of garlic, tomato puree (although I used tinned tomatoes it as we had no puree), turmeric, chilli, loads of cashew nuts and garam masala in the blender, whizzed it all up, fried it in oil till it made a thick sauce, added diced chicken and cooked till the meat was done. Bloody lovely.
Also, I made fudge. It's very nice, thanks for asking.
*I can't remember what it was called or who it was by, which is rather ironic.
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Busted
You'll be relieved to know that despite having forgotten to book in my visitors for our meeting on Monday morning, I managed to get to Reception with a post-it note with their names on before they started hammering their fists on the floor and demanding to see my boss.
So hurrah.
Monday was a bit of a nightmare though. The early meeting (and subsequent meetings) ran from about 2 minutes after I arrived, until lunchtime, when I managed to acquire a sandwich from the cafeteria before everything was sold out; the afternoon was spent in more meetings, interspersed with dealing with tetchy phone calls from people.
Lovely.
I got home at about 9pm and more or less collapsed into bed, comatose.
Yesterday was interesting in a "not going to talk about it on here because it's work and I don't really want to get fired" kind of way. Worked at home today, looking out of the window at the glorious sunshine, and getting some of the washing done in between drafting stuff.
Had a guitar lesson this evening but I wasn't really in the zone, so it felt a bit disjointed and awkward. My gorgeous guitar teacher has left me with homework - I have to learn all the words to the Eagles' "Outlaw Man".
Annoyingly, it seems that one of the pickups on my Rickenbacker isn't working properly, so I need to take it to the shop and have them look at it. Gah.
Other news: Very little.
Oh, apart from Marks and Spencer totally taking the piss with their pineapple. Bite size pieces? Ha. Only if you have the jaw of a python and can dislocate it to cram the huge, practically half a pineapple, chunks down.
So hurrah.
Monday was a bit of a nightmare though. The early meeting (and subsequent meetings) ran from about 2 minutes after I arrived, until lunchtime, when I managed to acquire a sandwich from the cafeteria before everything was sold out; the afternoon was spent in more meetings, interspersed with dealing with tetchy phone calls from people.
Lovely.
I got home at about 9pm and more or less collapsed into bed, comatose.
Yesterday was interesting in a "not going to talk about it on here because it's work and I don't really want to get fired" kind of way. Worked at home today, looking out of the window at the glorious sunshine, and getting some of the washing done in between drafting stuff.
Had a guitar lesson this evening but I wasn't really in the zone, so it felt a bit disjointed and awkward. My gorgeous guitar teacher has left me with homework - I have to learn all the words to the Eagles' "Outlaw Man".
Annoyingly, it seems that one of the pickups on my Rickenbacker isn't working properly, so I need to take it to the shop and have them look at it. Gah.
Other news: Very little.
Oh, apart from Marks and Spencer totally taking the piss with their pineapple. Bite size pieces? Ha. Only if you have the jaw of a python and can dislocate it to cram the huge, practically half a pineapple, chunks down.
Sunday, 1 February 2009
Ready
I am writing this wrapped in fifty layers of fleece, mittens, ear muffs, gaiters, galoshes and an oven glove on my nose.
We are expecting snow. Up to 5 centimetres, possibly, which is about, ooh, two inches I think?
Mr WithaY has stacked logs next to the fireplace, and I have replenished all the candle holders, so when we get a power cut (as we do whenever there is the slightest hint of dodgy weather), it will at least be possible to keep warm and see where the major obstacles are around the place.
We're going over to the nursing home in a bit to visit Father-in-law WithaY. I'd better pack the Emergency Bag* just in case. That five mile journey could be tricky if the snow really settles in.
Well, alright. It isn't that cold. And it isn't snowing.
Yet.
But the forecast says tomorrow will be horrific, so I am going to boot up my work laptop later and if nobody has sneaked any meetings into my diary for tomorrow, will work at home. It seems crazy to travel 150 miles in crappy weather to do stuff I could do in my study, wearing my slippers.
Other news: Had a little get-together last night, with some of our lovely local mates, which was fun. Quite quiet and well-behaved, as these things go, but that was partly becasue a large number of the guests had partied a little too hard on Friday night at the pub. Much cider was drunk, and many bad jokes were told. Marvellous.
A guitar was brought in, massively out of tune, so I did my best Nanny Ogg impression, did a poor job of tuning it, and played some songs. People sang**, there was even a spattering of applause from a group who had been enjoying a quiet meal in the bar. As they left (quite soon afterwards, now I come to think about it), they all said "Thank you, very nice." Heh. Yay me.
On Saturday morning, despite slight headaches, we ventured into Salisbury to transact high finance. Once the dull money stuff was done, I bought myself:
1) A new rucksack for commuting with, bigger than the one I have at the moment, so suitable for overnight stays as well as daily travel;
2) A little black handbag which is a bit more appropriate for carrying round the office, and which fits nicely inside the new rucksack, cleverly reducing the number of items I have to carry while I stride through the metropolis;
3) A pretty pink, cream and grey silk scarf from Accessorize which will work with many of my dull suits;
4) A set of short knitting needles and some funky wool to make Mr WithaY a scarf while I am on the train. Long needles are too unwieldy, but these are short so should be ok for commuting knitting;
I also went to get my engagement ring back from the menders, where it has been languishing since well before Christmas. I was quite apprehensive because they were remaking the whole thing, and I was really worried that they might not make it look the same as it had before.
I need not have worried. They have done a superb job, and the diamond looked fantastic. They had cleaned it, and the resetting meant it looked HUGE! Hurrah!
However, when I tried it on, it was much too small.
They had made it the same size that it was, but I hadn't realised how much too small it was for me while I was wearing it. If that makes sense. Anyhoo, when I tried it on, it was much too tight, and I realised that my wedding ring is also too small now.
I have been wearing my engagement ring for 21 years, and my wedding ring for 15, so no great shock there, as I have increased in mass significantly since I was 21.
Sooo, they are both off being sized, and I should get them back in a few weeks. Feels very odd being without them.
And now, a story with a happy ending:
Last weekend I went to the music shop and asked about acquiring an electric Rickenbacker 12-string. In blue.
I found out many sad things....
There is a 2 to 3 year waiting list for a new Rickenbacker 12 string, the prices are going up and up all the time, thanks to the dollar/pound relationship breakdown, and that if I ordered one now I would not be able to fix a price, and would have to pay whatever they asked me when it was ready. So, pants.
However, the man in the shop was very nice, and said he'd do some ringing round of dealers and so on, to see what was available out there. He said he;d call me back.
He called me back on Friday, to tell me that he had some good news and some bad news. The bad news was that the model I wanted, in the colour I wanted was not to be found in the UK. He'd even been on EBay to see if he could find me one, to no avail.
But the good news was that one of his customers had called him that morning to say he wanted to trade in a guitar for a new, rare model which was in the shop. Guess what he was trading in?
Guess what I have in my sitting room, right now?
It's wonderful. It sounds like the 1960s.
*Torch, chocolate, map, de-icer, more chocolate, bottle of water, book, extra chocolate. Everyone should have an Emergency Bag.
**I mentioned that we'd all been drinking, yes?
Picture nicked from http://www.rickenbacker.com/
We are expecting snow. Up to 5 centimetres, possibly, which is about, ooh, two inches I think?
Mr WithaY has stacked logs next to the fireplace, and I have replenished all the candle holders, so when we get a power cut (as we do whenever there is the slightest hint of dodgy weather), it will at least be possible to keep warm and see where the major obstacles are around the place.
We're going over to the nursing home in a bit to visit Father-in-law WithaY. I'd better pack the Emergency Bag* just in case. That five mile journey could be tricky if the snow really settles in.
Well, alright. It isn't that cold. And it isn't snowing.
Yet.
But the forecast says tomorrow will be horrific, so I am going to boot up my work laptop later and if nobody has sneaked any meetings into my diary for tomorrow, will work at home. It seems crazy to travel 150 miles in crappy weather to do stuff I could do in my study, wearing my slippers.
Other news: Had a little get-together last night, with some of our lovely local mates, which was fun. Quite quiet and well-behaved, as these things go, but that was partly becasue a large number of the guests had partied a little too hard on Friday night at the pub. Much cider was drunk, and many bad jokes were told. Marvellous.
A guitar was brought in, massively out of tune, so I did my best Nanny Ogg impression, did a poor job of tuning it, and played some songs. People sang**, there was even a spattering of applause from a group who had been enjoying a quiet meal in the bar. As they left (quite soon afterwards, now I come to think about it), they all said "Thank you, very nice." Heh. Yay me.
On Saturday morning, despite slight headaches, we ventured into Salisbury to transact high finance. Once the dull money stuff was done, I bought myself:
1) A new rucksack for commuting with, bigger than the one I have at the moment, so suitable for overnight stays as well as daily travel;
2) A little black handbag which is a bit more appropriate for carrying round the office, and which fits nicely inside the new rucksack, cleverly reducing the number of items I have to carry while I stride through the metropolis;
3) A pretty pink, cream and grey silk scarf from Accessorize which will work with many of my dull suits;
4) A set of short knitting needles and some funky wool to make Mr WithaY a scarf while I am on the train. Long needles are too unwieldy, but these are short so should be ok for commuting knitting;
I also went to get my engagement ring back from the menders, where it has been languishing since well before Christmas. I was quite apprehensive because they were remaking the whole thing, and I was really worried that they might not make it look the same as it had before.
I need not have worried. They have done a superb job, and the diamond looked fantastic. They had cleaned it, and the resetting meant it looked HUGE! Hurrah!
However, when I tried it on, it was much too small.
They had made it the same size that it was, but I hadn't realised how much too small it was for me while I was wearing it. If that makes sense. Anyhoo, when I tried it on, it was much too tight, and I realised that my wedding ring is also too small now.
I have been wearing my engagement ring for 21 years, and my wedding ring for 15, so no great shock there, as I have increased in mass significantly since I was 21.
Sooo, they are both off being sized, and I should get them back in a few weeks. Feels very odd being without them.
And now, a story with a happy ending:
Last weekend I went to the music shop and asked about acquiring an electric Rickenbacker 12-string. In blue.
I found out many sad things....
There is a 2 to 3 year waiting list for a new Rickenbacker 12 string, the prices are going up and up all the time, thanks to the dollar/pound relationship breakdown, and that if I ordered one now I would not be able to fix a price, and would have to pay whatever they asked me when it was ready. So, pants.
However, the man in the shop was very nice, and said he'd do some ringing round of dealers and so on, to see what was available out there. He said he;d call me back.
He called me back on Friday, to tell me that he had some good news and some bad news. The bad news was that the model I wanted, in the colour I wanted was not to be found in the UK. He'd even been on EBay to see if he could find me one, to no avail.
But the good news was that one of his customers had called him that morning to say he wanted to trade in a guitar for a new, rare model which was in the shop. Guess what he was trading in?
Guess what I have in my sitting room, right now?
It's wonderful. It sounds like the 1960s.
*Torch, chocolate, map, de-icer, more chocolate, bottle of water, book, extra chocolate. Everyone should have an Emergency Bag.
**I mentioned that we'd all been drinking, yes?
Picture nicked from http://www.rickenbacker.com/
Sunday, 25 January 2009
Repeat to fade
Bloody computer did it again. Was in the middle of looking for a parquet floor specialist to come and restore our downstairs floors to their former glory, and the internet fell over.
The Orange Internet service really seems to be a bit flaky. If I can't rely on it to stay up and running, I can't work at home, and thus would have to flog into London 5 days a week, which would kill me.
Other news: Made a fab lasagna for tomorrow, but am seriously tempted to go and eat it now.
Have made some cakes, which I might ice, or might not.
Am learning to play "Because the Night" on my guitar, which is hugely satisfying.
Found out my beautiful "leaving my job after 20 years in the Department" ring is made of 18ct white gold, and not silver, as I thought. Yay me. We went into Frome yesterday, during the only period when it rained all day, and I popped into a little jewellers.
Also popped into the guitar shop and talked about 12-string electric Rickenbackers with them. It's my birthday next week, so if anyone wants to get me a gift, one of those would be very welcome. Only £1500. Bargain.
The Orange Internet service really seems to be a bit flaky. If I can't rely on it to stay up and running, I can't work at home, and thus would have to flog into London 5 days a week, which would kill me.
Other news: Made a fab lasagna for tomorrow, but am seriously tempted to go and eat it now.
Have made some cakes, which I might ice, or might not.
Am learning to play "Because the Night" on my guitar, which is hugely satisfying.
Found out my beautiful "leaving my job after 20 years in the Department" ring is made of 18ct white gold, and not silver, as I thought. Yay me. We went into Frome yesterday, during the only period when it rained all day, and I popped into a little jewellers.
Also popped into the guitar shop and talked about 12-string electric Rickenbackers with them. It's my birthday next week, so if anyone wants to get me a gift, one of those would be very welcome. Only £1500. Bargain.
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