Countdown

I have only one more day of work left.  Well, one more day - Monday - in the office, and then I am on leave until the end of the month, when my employment with Her Majesty ends officially.

Yesterday I was almost entirely lazy, dealing with a couple of minor issues via email, and spending the rest of my time electronically filing stuff where other people will be able to find it after I've gone.  At about half past three, I logged off, shut down my laptop, and then packed it back in its case, ready to be returned to the office on Monday.

I may have heaved a deep, satisfied sigh as I did so. 

After that, while waiting for my gorgeous guitar teacher to arrive, I tidied and rearranged my study, which feels much bigger now that the work ephemera is gone.  I've chucked out* all the work-related papers I had kicking around, and the draft copies of legislation that I used to have to refer to.  And hey, there's loads of space on the shelves all of a sudden.

I've also packed my Rickenbacker into its case and stashed it under the bed, freeing up a large gap in here.  I will, of course, soon fill that gap with other stuff, but just for today I am enjoying the sense of light and air that has been manifest in here since I put my laptop away.

Today I also cleaned under our bed.  Brrrr.  That's a task you face with a steely determination and a recently-emptied hoover, I can tell you. 

The things I found included: 

• A box full of scarves, bags and evening gloves
• A yoga mat
• A box of assorted hair implements - velcro rollers, clips, hairdryer attachements for hairdryers I don't own
• A pair of funky sandals I had forgotten I owned, probably bought the last time we were in America
• Three rucksacks of varying sizes, all grey and fluffy with dust

Mr WithaY's scuba gear was also under there, but I am terrified of his air tanks so I never touch those.  He moved them all out so I could hoover.

It's all been cleaned, sorted and replaced or removed, and there is also room for my posh guitar and stand under there now.  Marvellous.

Tonight, to celebrate, we have some friends coming over for dinner.  It was supposed to be a casual supper but, as is our wont, it has escalated into something resembling a Fifteenth Century Venetian banquet.   With port.

Other news:  My iPhone is buggered.  I need to replace it but a new handset will cost me over £100.  Is it worth biting the bullet and getting an iPhone 4?  Suggestions welcome.







*Burned.  I'm not leaving work stuff in the bins where just anyone could find it and sell it to the tabloids.

Still got the blue(bell)s

We went for a walk in the woods the other week.  The woods by which I live.  The bluebells were out, and it was gorgeous.  In the absence of anything thrilling to tell you, here are some pictures:

I made a mental note of where the huge logpile was for possible Winter firewood foraging raids*.

We went with some friends and their charming dog.

There are little tiny white wood anemones mixed in with the bluebells, very pretty. 

Beech trees in Spring leaf.  I love that colour green. 

We saw a tree with a woodpecker's hole.

I do love how the colour of bluebells changes from the single flower, where it looks quite dark, to the huge swathe, where it is much paler.  Why is that?

It was all very pretty, and once again made me profoundly glad that I live here. 

Other news:  I've been really poorly with a hideous stomach bug for the best part of a week.  It laid me low for 48 hours, seemed to go away, then came back with a vengeance again for another 48 hours.  Today is the first day in several that I feel like myself again.

Yesterday - our wedding anniversary as it happens, 17 years, not that I'm counting or anything - I spent almost the entire day either laying on the bed with a fleecy blanket over me, sipping water and feeling dreadful, or curled up under the duvet, glaring at Grand Designs on TV with one squinty, tired, red eye. 

So yeah, that was all a bit pants.  On  the bright side, Mr WithaY gave me the most beautiful bouquet of flowers** which was a lovely surprise. 

Also, I made a few enquiries about selling my Rickenbacker.  I seldom play it, and I was sat here the other day thinking "I need more room in here to do my sewing.  There are just too many guitars, dammit." 

From there it was a short step to ringing a well-known guitar emporium and asking how much a second-hand Rickenbacker 620 12-string would go for.

Well.

If you look at the Rickenbacker website, there are no prices listed, as they have a mega waiting list for their guitars.  Anything up to (and beyond) 2 years is not uncommon.  If you order a guitar from them, you pay them what the price is WHEN IT IS DELIVERED, not when you order it.  So in 2 years it could have gone up a fair bit.

If you look on eBay, the average asking price for a guitar the same as mine is about £1500. 

If you look at guitar shop websites, expect to pay anything from £1450 to £1750.

So imagine my chagrin when I was told that the retail price for a Rickenbacker 620 12-string is "about £900.  So we'd offer you about £600 for it."

Their reasoning for this very low offer is that "the demand for Rickenbackers has dropped way down because of the waiting time."

Really.

I think I'll hang onto it for now, thanks.


Anyway, to end on a cheerful Spring note, here is some May in flower.  The hedges round here are full of it.

*If I actually tried thieving any of the Longleat Estate's wood, I reckon I'd be thrown to the lions. 

**For our anniversary, not because I had a hideous stomach bug.  He tends not to celebrate outbreaks of the shits.

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.

No news

Ah, blessed relief. My back is no longer killing me, and I can move around relatively easily. I did a bit of walking yesterday, to and from the station to the office, ad back again in the evening, which I think is about 4 miles in total. I am that sure helped a lot.

The journey home from London was enlivened by two lovely long-haired golden retrievers (I think) on the train, sitting quietly in the end of the carriage, wagging their tails when anyone went near them.

I miss having a dog still. Even our mental scary one.

Off down to Sussex shortly to see how my lovely Mum is getting on, and then staying at Bestest Mate's house as we haven't seen each other for bloody ages.

And I am taking my guitar. Ha.

Hair still looks fab, by the way.

Reward

Enjoying being back home, and feeling very glad that my lovely Mum is on the road to recovery, even if it will take a while for her to get there.

Went into Salisbury on Saturday to run a few errands, and to pick up my engagement and wedding rings from the jewellers. They have done a brilliant job, the diamond in my engagement ring looks wonderful, all big and clean and sparkly.

After I finished being impressed, the girl in the shop got the various invoices out and started ringing it all through the till. "That will be £50 for the resizing, please," she said.

I thought about it for a moment, remembering the quote they gave me back in December for £450, which they seemed to have forgotten about. A vision of getting away with the perfect crime flashed across my mind. But, thanks to my upbringing and innate honesty, I had to say "No, that's not right. You haven't charged me for the repair work you did."

She seemed really surprised and kept thanking me for being so honest. Well really. What else could one do? I wouldn't nick £450 from someone, or shoplift something, so why would I steal it by not telling them of their mistake?

Anyway, she then took £25 off the cost of resizing my rings, as a reward. Plus I get to feel all virtuous and smug every time I look at my rings, instead of feeling ashamed and guilty. So hurrah for honesty.

Last night we went over to the pub to watch my gorgeous guitar teacher's band playing. It was fun, just the ticket after such a sad and worrying couple of weeks.

He had mentioned ages ago about me going and playing a song with them, but I have hardly picked up my guitar for a fortnight, and until Friday was really in no mood to think about playing or singing. So, I just went and watched, and chatted to a lot of our friends and neighbours who were there, and had some cider. Mmmm cider.

Today we went over to see some neighbours for coffee this morning, and I spent a happy half hour wandering round their beautiful garden, stealing ideas for my own garden. If and when we get our arses into gear and start work in it, of course. I am now fancying a box hedge, but not quite sure where I'd put one. Mr WithaY is talking about making a pond, but the water table here is so high I think we'd end up with an above-ground pool.

I am going to start getting quotes for the ground work we need to have done in the back garden though. If we know how much it will cost then we can at least plan it.

By way of getting things underway, Mr WithaY cut the front hedge and I pruned the roses. A small start but it meant we felt like we had at least made an effort.

After our monumental gardening efforts, we popped in to visit Father-in-Law WithaY, who was looking very well. Another encouraging thing on a sunny day.

This evening we had a small domestic tragedy. Whilst rummaging in the cupboard for the vinaigrette (ooh get us, eh?) Mr WithaY dislodged a brand new bottle of truffle oil, which smashed into a bazillion pieces all over the kitchen floor. We did a rapid Red Adair style clean-up, but the house still smells of posh Italian food, and the floor needs another wash, as it is rather too slippery for safety.

Other news: Tried on a hat in the outdoorsy shop in Salisbury that I wish I had bought. It was made of black fake fur, and had little tiny gorilla-stylee ears on it. Superb. And it really suited me.

Sweets

Gah, another ridiculously long gap betweeen postings. Sorry.

In the interim:

Had a very lovely "almost my last day" barbecue at a colleague's house on Friday, where the team gave me a beautiful gift and all said very kind things. One week left in this job, and then it's all change. I am really excited about it, as well as being nervous.

London! Bright lights! Trains! People who aren't wearing baler twine to hold their trousers up! Can't wait.

Ooh yes....we got the On-Line Village Fete Vegetable PRIZE through the post! From jaywalker at Belgian Waffle! I am so proud. The winning certificate will go on my wall. I may even post a photo of the prize, it's so marvellous. Big thank you to her for that.

Went to spend the weekend at my bestest mate's place, because we hadn't seen each other for months. The weather was perfect, which meant we walked into town, walked all round town, sat in the park and ate ice cream and then walked the long way home through rat-infested fields. Ah, the countryside. It was very interesting. I tried to get some photos but they were too far away.

Plus they looked like they'd have demanded royalties.

Whilst mungoing around town, we went to Thornton's to buy an ice cream. It was a glorious day, so there were a few people in the shop, all picking which flavour ice cream they wanted, and admiring the fine display of chocolate spiders, ready for Halloween.

It got to our turn. The flustered lady behind the counter asked us what we wanted.

Me: Two medium ice creams please, one with chocolate and truffle, the other with...

Flustered shop lady (interrupting): Don't tell me any more! One at a time! I have problems remembering different ice cream flavours!

I almost said "Well, you're in the wrong bloody job then, aren't you?" but thought better of it. The ice creams, once she managed to serve them, were lovely, incidentally.

Other news: Mr WithaY had to consign my lovely lemon curd to the bin today because it had grown a fluffy green coat.

I should have kept it in the fridge. Ah, hindsight.

I bought a new capo for my guitar, as the one I already have works fine on my acoustic but not on the Les Paul. The new one works brilliantly. Hurrah.

The nice man in the handmade guitar shop is getting in an electric 12-string on sale or return for me to have a go with. Just out of curiosity, you understand.

I'm not going to buy it or anything.

Honest.

Finding My Way

Ah, the summer Solstice. A time of deep, profound, mystical communing with the Earth and all of mankind, bathed in the glow of the dawn light.

Sadly, to do all that, you have to get to Stonehenge. Which is what every fucker in the West of England is trying to do this afternoon.

It has taken me over an hour and a half to get home from work, even after I baled out early to beat the traffic.

I thought I'd be cunning and go the back way, taking in a grand tour of Military Establishments of the South West. I avoided the A303, and instead went through Tidworth, then Bulford Camp, gleeful and confident. I got to an unmarked junction and took a guess, trusting to luck and my own sense of direction. To my dismay, I ended up back on the A303, going in the wrong direction, back towards work.

How I laughed.*

I gave up and did a U-turn, which was interesting, and then went back along the route I normally go. Where I would have been 40 minutes earlier, if I hadn't taken the back way, in fact.

I did cut off across country after that to avoid going past Stonehenge itself. I could see the traffic queue from the top of the hill, and it looked like hell on toast.

Finally made it home, exhausted and harrowed. It's pissing down with rain now. That'll be nice for them all, stood out there in a field, waiting for the night to end.

Bastards.

Other news. Another mental week at work. I'm starting to panic about it all, but strangely, running around waving my arms and making Daffy Duck noises isn't helping things.

I have to flog up to Bedford (fucking Bedford!) next week for 2 days which is a hassle I could do without, but it might get me some useful contacts. Last year I got a freebie teddy bear too, so not an entirely wasted day.

We're off to a party this weekend, supposedly in a garden, so I am really hoping the rain stops. We went to a great more or less impromptu** one last weekend, and ended up sitting under the stars till 2am, drinking wine and chatting. Was fab, but has given me Summer Party Fever, so now I want to do that every weekend.

Mr WithaY found out that his dad has had a nasty fall and is in hospital so we plan to go and see him over the weekend too. Poor bugger.

I need to practice my guitar a bit too, as I have been asked to bring it (and the amp!) to the party tomorrow. Be a bit embarrassing if I set it all up and then was unable to remember how to play anything. Heh.



*I didnt really. I said "FUCKING HELL" several times, quite loudly.

**i.e: The hosts put in a ton of work, we turned up and ate all their food and made lots of noise. Hurrah.

On a break

I don't know if I am coming or going at the moment. Work is really, really busy. I mean, I am still doing a kind of nine to five thing, but while I am there I am up to my ears.

Anyone would think that's what they pay me for. Tch.

So, by way of making sure I get a short break, I have plugged myself into my iPod* and am doing my blog.

One advantage of the "desk, team and phone in different ends of the building" fiasco is that I am walking around a lot more. Can't be bad. I haven't been to the gym for at least a month, so any exercise is better than nothing. Even clutching at straws must burn a few calories.

At least I have been in the office all week, which makes life easier. Apart from Monday, when I was in Bristol. Mind you, with all the scaremongering stories about fuel going up to £2.30 a litre, maybe I'll resign because I won't be able to afford the 70 miles a day driving here and back.

Or, less drama-queenishly, perhaps Mr WithaY and I can carshare more.

Although I prefer the sound of the "not having to go to work any more" option, to be honest.

Had a fab guitar lesson last night. We are off to a party** later in the month and I have been asked to bring my guitar, so we were going through various songs which might be suitable for a lovely summer party. My teacher suggested that REM's "Everybody Hurts" might not be a party song. We'll see.

I did a version of The Boxtop's "The Letter" which, although I say so myself, I sang the shit out of. If I could just remember the chords, it would be perfect.

Also. Have been invited to join the band for a few songs when they do a show in August, which I am very much looking forward to. My enthusiasm took a slight dip when my guitar teacher told me that the last time they did a similar show, the Windsor Hell's Angels turned up. So that could be interesting.

Back in the day, there were a few scary close encounters with various bike gangs, although I don't think I ever met a fully-fledged Angel. Apart from one, who became a very dear friend, and he'd been one back in the 1960s and 70s, so I think was more or less retired. If they can retire. I have no idea.

Anyhoo. The dress code on the ticket for the event says "Leather". I sold my leathers when we sold the bike. I might wear a pink fluffy cardigan and pearls, see what happens.

Right. Time to do all my expenses claims. Work must owe me about a million pounds by now.


*Which I like because I can pretend to be a cyborg.

**Hello Lynn.

Harbingers

Saw the first gypsies of Spring today. As I was driving to work, there was a traditional Romany wagon parked up by the side of the road with a couple of piebald horses, and an elderly gypsy couple cleaning them, or brushing them or whatever you do to tidy up a horse.

All most picturesque.

Other news: They are digging up Stonehenge. Went past this morning and there was a huge marquee in the car park with BBC Timewatch written all over it. When I went past again tonight, there were several film crews all filming each other, presumably because it was more interesting than filming a small hole in the ground.

How exciting.

Got a hectic week at work planned, a day in London and a ton of planning for various big meetings coming up. Still, the lighter evenings make it more bearable. Mr WithaY is off to a big conference for a few days Up North, so it will be very quiet here indeed.

So, turn the amp up to eleven and raise the goblet of rock, I reckon.

Gutter press

Honestly. I wanted to buy some more lovely orange Virgin Vie face cleaning stuff and it seems they have discontinued it. Gah.

Filthy, pore-clogged misery for my face then, from now on.

So, anyway, the storms. It was truly terrifying down our way. We had someone else's bucket in our front garden the next day. And some flowerpots got blown around a bit.

Total devastation.

Although, to be fair, the guttering fell off the garage again, but Mr WithaY wanged it with a hammer and it seems ok now.

Saw the picture on the front page of The Sun today showing a couple of complete numpties standing on a huge-wave-lashed seafront with a baby in a buggy. Top parenting there then.

"Nice walk dear?"

"Yes, was great, went to the seaside."

"Ooh, lovely...where's the baby?"

"Ah. Well, it was a bit rough, like..."

Fuckwits.

Other News: Am having a guitar lesson later so will find out from my lovely teacher if I will get to sing with them again any time soon. I hope so. If I do, I am going to ask to be allowed to do a less difficult song. I love Tom Petty but his stuff is a right bugger to sing when you have what is best described as a folk singer voice.

Heh.

I have asked if we can learn a few Pretenders songs tonight. I am a cunning evil mastermind.

Posse etiquette

So, had a good guitar lesson last night. I am off to rehearsals with the band next week, to make sure I have the song right. I'd better listen to it on CD a few times to get the timing right.

My lovely teacher also said that if there are any other songs on the set list I fancy having a go at, I can. Excellent.

The big gig is on Saturday 8th, and Mr WithaY is threatening to "get a posse" along.

I mentioned that he doesn't actually have a posse.

"Ah, you just get one together on the spur of the moment. That's what posses are all about," he explained.

Thank goodness he's here to keep me informed.

I asked him the other day: "If you were reading my blog for the first time, do you think you'd want to get to know me?"

"Hmm, maybe," he replied. "But I think I'd prefer to meet that Mr WithaY bloke. He sounds great."

Other news: Made a fab supper last night. Slow-cooked pork ribs, soaked in that Reggae Reggae marinade. Was lovely. I also boiled up a roast duck carcass and am planning Adventurous Soup.

Mmmmm soup.

Hello Salisbury!

A first for me tonight. I'm off to a colleague's house after work to play my guitar with him (he has a Strat) and his son (a drummer). Never played with anyone else before other than my lovely guitar teacher, so I'm quite excited about it.

My first ever public performance*. In a mate's front room. I can't wait. Heh.

Had an encouraging lesson last night and can now play the Pretenders' "2000 Miles" which is one of my favourite songs to sing.

Also did a nice rhythm guitar version of Hotel California whilst my teacher did all the complicated lead guitar stuff, which worked well. He's just brilliant.

Other news: Watched "Kiki's Delivery Service" the other night on DVD, continuing catching up on my Studio Ghibli acquisitions. It is lovely. Obviously a bit of a childrens' film, but very watchable nonetheless.

Also. Called my Mum for a chat. She's taking Spanish classes in preparation for our planned trip to Santiago de Compostela next year. Apparently she'll do the talking, I'll do the driving. Excellent. Just as long as we both get to some eating and laughing as well, I don't care.

My ever-helpful nieces and nephews are giving their Grandma advice on how to be a student. They've offered to teach her to say "Whassup" and to lend her their trainers, apparently.

Had a joke texted to me by Middle Sis that made me laugh out loud as I walked into the office:

Why did the baker have brown fingers?
Because he kneaded a poo

I know. I should be ashamed. But it made me laugh again just writing it down. Sozz.

*Not counting my mate Andy playing his guitar with me in my kitchen, great fun though that was. Hello Andy!