Apart from the ongoing situation with Father-in-Law WithaY, what news from the snowy, sleety, bloody freezing Wiltshire hills?
Well, I was in London on Friday for a work thing that everyone else was able to get to, so I sacrificed one of my 2 days a week working at home, and went along. It was actually quite good. An opportunity to meet a lot more of the extended team, and have a chat with people who are usually too busy dashing around in the office to pin down.
Towards the end of the day we were doing one of those team discussions where you all come up with a list of behaviours and traits you think you should be using and displaying. Someone suggested "Patience." A voice from the back said "No, we don't have time for that!" which I thought was an absolute classic.
The event was not at the office, so I walked up from St James' Park tube station, with only a minor diversion up to the Lambeth Roundabout due to my inability to pick the correct direction along a main road. Was a nice-ish morning and I had plenty of time, so the walk was enjoyable.
I also walked back to Waterloo at the end of the day, which was much nicer than taking the Tube. Took about the same amount of time, so I might start doing a bit more walking, maybe get off the Tube one or two stops earlier. We'll see.
On the train out of Waterloo was a family, with a large shaggy dog. The dog behaved perfectly, sitting quietly under the table, occasionally sticking his head out and looking adorable. Once or twice it wandered into the aisle, and was scratched and stroked by everyone in range.
Yes, it was lovely.
Until it started farting.
Picture the scene. A crowded commuter train, people in every seat, some standing in the aisles, and a dog who is niiiiice and relaxed. The looks on people's faces were priceless, because of course many of them couldn't see the dog. I wondered if one chap was going to stand up and demand that the perpetrator confess, he looked so outraged. The mother of the dog-owning family sat there, her face getting redder and redder as the air got more and more crowded.
Unless of course, she was to blame and not the dog. Hmmmmm.
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Not like The Waltons
Things have been a bit fraught this week in the WithaY household.
Father-in-Law WithaY was finally sent home from hospital after 20 weeks inside (poor old bugger) and it has become very clear very quickly that he is in no shape to cope at home on his own. Indeed, he now needs 24 hour care, and so Bro-in-Law WithaY has come down to spend a few days to help try to arrange either a full time care assistant at home, or a place in a nursing home.
So. It's all rather sad and stressful.
It's nice spending some time with Bro-in-law though, as we don't see much of him usually.
Other news: Made an ace sausage casserole yesterday, with pork and apple sausages, onion, tomato and big slices of apple. Was really really tasty.
Apart from that, very little.
Father-in-Law WithaY was finally sent home from hospital after 20 weeks inside (poor old bugger) and it has become very clear very quickly that he is in no shape to cope at home on his own. Indeed, he now needs 24 hour care, and so Bro-in-Law WithaY has come down to spend a few days to help try to arrange either a full time care assistant at home, or a place in a nursing home.
So. It's all rather sad and stressful.
It's nice spending some time with Bro-in-law though, as we don't see much of him usually.
Other news: Made an ace sausage casserole yesterday, with pork and apple sausages, onion, tomato and big slices of apple. Was really really tasty.
Apart from that, very little.
Monday, 24 November 2008
Banky panky
So, as I had a gap between meetings today, I tried to call the bank to notify them that I have changed employers.
I know from long experience that calling the Salisbury branch of Natwest is harder than it should be, not least because I don't have a direct number for them. Not that I looked very hard, to be honest.
Anyhoo, I had a "helpdesk" number written in my diary, so I rang that.
Natwest Male Helper: Hello, Natwest, how can I help you?
Me: Hello. I need to let my bank know I have changed employers, please.
NMH: Of course. Can I have your account number? (I give him the number) Thank you. Please confirm your full name (I do so). Thank you. Please can you give me the third and fifth digit of your telephone banking security code?
Me: No, I can't, sorry.
NWM: Aaaah, lots of people don't like giving out their security numbers on the phone.
Me: No, I mean I don't know it, sorry.
NMH: Ok, well, I will pass you across to my colleague who can help you. She will want to know a few more security details, though.
Me: That's fine. (annoying Muzac while he transfers me to his colleague)
Natwest Female Helper: (Very very cheerfully) Hello there! I understand you want us to do a banking services review for you so you can find out how to save money!
Me: Um. No. I want to tell you who I work for now so you can update my account details.
NFH: (brightly) Oh, that's all been done! Now, let's do this review!
Me: It hasn't been done. I didn't even get to tell your colleague who I work for now.
NFH: (Slightly less brightly) Oh. Well, what did my colleague actually do for you?
Me: Nothing. He asked for my account details then passed me over to you.
NFH: Ok, not to worry. Can I have your full name please? (I give her my full name) Oh. This is odd.
Me: What is?
NFH: When did you change your name? I have a different name on my system for you.
Me: I changed my name when I got married, almost 15 years ago. All my bank stuff is in my married name.
NFH: Are you sure?
Me: (Losing what little remaining patience I had left with this farce) Yes. I tell you what. I will go into Salisbury sometime and do this face-to-face. I think it will be easier.
NFH: (Brightly) Yes, you can do that if you want to.
*click*
Gah.
Other news: Saw an Elric lookalike almost get run over by a cyclist outside Victoria station. A new one on me.
I know from long experience that calling the Salisbury branch of Natwest is harder than it should be, not least because I don't have a direct number for them. Not that I looked very hard, to be honest.
Anyhoo, I had a "helpdesk" number written in my diary, so I rang that.
Natwest Male Helper: Hello, Natwest, how can I help you?
Me: Hello. I need to let my bank know I have changed employers, please.
NMH: Of course. Can I have your account number? (I give him the number) Thank you. Please confirm your full name (I do so). Thank you. Please can you give me the third and fifth digit of your telephone banking security code?
Me: No, I can't, sorry.
NWM: Aaaah, lots of people don't like giving out their security numbers on the phone.
Me: No, I mean I don't know it, sorry.
NMH: Ok, well, I will pass you across to my colleague who can help you. She will want to know a few more security details, though.
Me: That's fine. (annoying Muzac while he transfers me to his colleague)
Natwest Female Helper: (Very very cheerfully) Hello there! I understand you want us to do a banking services review for you so you can find out how to save money!
Me: Um. No. I want to tell you who I work for now so you can update my account details.
NFH: (brightly) Oh, that's all been done! Now, let's do this review!
Me: It hasn't been done. I didn't even get to tell your colleague who I work for now.
NFH: (Slightly less brightly) Oh. Well, what did my colleague actually do for you?
Me: Nothing. He asked for my account details then passed me over to you.
NFH: Ok, not to worry. Can I have your full name please? (I give her my full name) Oh. This is odd.
Me: What is?
NFH: When did you change your name? I have a different name on my system for you.
Me: I changed my name when I got married, almost 15 years ago. All my bank stuff is in my married name.
NFH: Are you sure?
Me: (Losing what little remaining patience I had left with this farce) Yes. I tell you what. I will go into Salisbury sometime and do this face-to-face. I think it will be easier.
NFH: (Brightly) Yes, you can do that if you want to.
*click*
Gah.
Other news: Saw an Elric lookalike almost get run over by a cyclist outside Victoria station. A new one on me.
Saturday, 22 November 2008
Hanky Panky
I was looking at the box of tissues on my desk the other day, as you do. One the back is a website address for something called the Sneeze Safe Programme, with the strapline:
"And look out for Kleenex tissues featuring Disney characters to make nose blowing even more fun!"
Now, I am not a particular fan of Disney characters, but why would blowing your nose on Winnie the Pooh or Goofy make it "fun"? And, more to the point, why would you want it to be fun anyway?
I have never, in all my 42 years, heard anyone, anywhere say "I love blowing my nose, it's such fun!" I don't see people having a sneeze or a sniffle, then getting their hanky out with a huge excited grin, clearly anticipating having the time of their life.
No.
And I can't for the life of me imagine that parents would want to train their children to expect a rip-roaring good time when they are all snotty.
Unless they are teaching them all about disappointment nice and early. That would make sense.
"And look out for Kleenex tissues featuring Disney characters to make nose blowing even more fun!"
Now, I am not a particular fan of Disney characters, but why would blowing your nose on Winnie the Pooh or Goofy make it "fun"? And, more to the point, why would you want it to be fun anyway?
I have never, in all my 42 years, heard anyone, anywhere say "I love blowing my nose, it's such fun!" I don't see people having a sneeze or a sniffle, then getting their hanky out with a huge excited grin, clearly anticipating having the time of their life.
No.
And I can't for the life of me imagine that parents would want to train their children to expect a rip-roaring good time when they are all snotty.
Unless they are teaching them all about disappointment nice and early. That would make sense.
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
99 things to do
Stole this from the ever-entertaining Mr Farty. As he rightly points out, it is hugely USA-centric, but still.
Let's see how many of the 99 activities below I can highlight as having done.
1. Started your own blog - Yes. This one. Look, right here.
2. Slept under the stars - Yes. Under canvas, under a tree, in several ruined castles, between cars, oh, so many outdoor sleeping times. And it was always bloody freezing.
3. Played in a band - Yes! Hurrah! A lifelong ambition fulfilled.
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower - Yes, many times. Lovely.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world - Over my cold dead body.
8. Climbed a mountain - Hills. Small ones.
9. Held a praying mantis - Yes...the album "Time Tells No Lies" by Praying Mantis.
10. Sang a solo - Yes. In choirs, in pubs, in clubs and even on stage with aforementioned band.
11. Bungee jumped - nope, too attached to my retinas, thanks
12. Visited Paris - Yes, loved it.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea - No but saw a doozy of a storm in Bavaria. Which is like the sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch - yes if you count embroidery as an art
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning Hell yes.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty - No, but went up to the top of the big park in Barcelona which was pretty high.
18. Grown your own vegetables - Potatoes, carrots and parsnips.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France - Yes, and which other Mona Lisas are there??
20. Slept on an overnight train - never been on a long enough train journey. Sleep quite a lot on the train into Waterloo though.
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked - Winchester to Durham when I was a student. Took 14 hours.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill - heh, not these days, but when I was young and crazy
24. Built a snow fort - seldom enough snow. Did make a fantastic snowman a few times though
25. Held a lamb - Yes, it was smelly and greasy
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run - no, am not American
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person - see no. 31 above
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors - Yes, Wales
35. Seen an Amish community - no, but have re-enacted seventeenth century life in all its glory many times
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied - Intermittently. But there's always something else you could spend 20 quid on.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing - Once. Carved my name on the Cow and Calf rocks on Ilkley Moor as a teenager. How environmentally reprehensible.
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke - yes, won a bottle of champagne once
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt - no, see 31 above
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa - Yes! Forgot this one - went to Morocco on a day trip when we went to a mate's wedding in Gibraltar. Was v smelly and intimidating and hot.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight - yes, was lovely
46. Been transported in an ambulance - no, but did do a mercy dash to Casualty when Mr Withay was bleeding like a stuck pig and had to have a transfusion.
47. Had your portrait painted - yes! By the artist Mick Cawston, in a pub.
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling - Scuba diving off the Turkish coast. Was interesting.
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud - Usually with gunpowder
54. Gone to a drive-in theatre - We don't have those over here
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class - Yes, the instructor took the piss out of me for "obviously liking cake". I complained and got my money back. Bastard.
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching - Yes, saw humpbacks, off the coast of Massachussetts
63. Got flowers for no reason -Yes, have been sent them by others, and also bought them for myself.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma - blood. Am A negative, if anyone needs any.
65. Gone sky diving - Are you insane? No.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favourite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial - see No 31 above
71. Eaten caviar - Mmmm fish jam
72. Pieced a quilt - I think my Mum still has the bits in her attic
73. Stood in Times Square - see 31 above
74. Toured the Everglades - see 31 above
75. Been fired from a job - Yep, barmaiding...so the landlord could give his horrible girlfriend my job.
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London - Often.
77. Broken a bone - right collarbone, left elbow, right little toe (not at the same time) - all from falling downstairs though. Am a clumsy oaf.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle - yep (Mum stop reading now) Was doing 110mph on the motorway on the back; when we slowed down to 50 I stood up on the footpegs cos it felt like we'd stopped. Eep.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person - no, see 31 above
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper - many times, usually dressed as a scraggy seventeenth century re-enactor
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating - well, have watched someone else do it, and helped out a bit.
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life - Yep, see Mercy Dash at no 46. Also dragged Dutch woman out of the river when we almost died in the Turkish Ravine Incident.
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous - Several, Lorraine Chase tipped me a quid in 1983 when I was waitressing. Which was a lot then.
92. Joined a book club - Yes, left again though
93. Lost a loved one - too many.
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person - again, see no.31
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake - yadda yadda yadda no. 31
97. Been involved in a law suit - yep, sued a nutter who wrote my car off and had no insurance. Git.
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
What a rich and full life.
Let's see how many of the 99 activities below I can highlight as having done.
1. Started your own blog - Yes. This one. Look, right here.
2. Slept under the stars - Yes. Under canvas, under a tree, in several ruined castles, between cars, oh, so many outdoor sleeping times. And it was always bloody freezing.
3. Played in a band - Yes! Hurrah! A lifelong ambition fulfilled.
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower - Yes, many times. Lovely.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world - Over my cold dead body.
8. Climbed a mountain - Hills. Small ones.
9. Held a praying mantis - Yes...the album "Time Tells No Lies" by Praying Mantis.
10. Sang a solo - Yes. In choirs, in pubs, in clubs and even on stage with aforementioned band.
11. Bungee jumped - nope, too attached to my retinas, thanks
12. Visited Paris - Yes, loved it.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea - No but saw a doozy of a storm in Bavaria. Which is like the sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch - yes if you count embroidery as an art
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning Hell yes.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty - No, but went up to the top of the big park in Barcelona which was pretty high.
18. Grown your own vegetables - Potatoes, carrots and parsnips.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France - Yes, and which other Mona Lisas are there??
20. Slept on an overnight train - never been on a long enough train journey. Sleep quite a lot on the train into Waterloo though.
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked - Winchester to Durham when I was a student. Took 14 hours.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill - heh, not these days, but when I was young and crazy
24. Built a snow fort - seldom enough snow. Did make a fantastic snowman a few times though
25. Held a lamb - Yes, it was smelly and greasy
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run - no, am not American
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person - see no. 31 above
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors - Yes, Wales
35. Seen an Amish community - no, but have re-enacted seventeenth century life in all its glory many times
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied - Intermittently. But there's always something else you could spend 20 quid on.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing - Once. Carved my name on the Cow and Calf rocks on Ilkley Moor as a teenager. How environmentally reprehensible.
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke - yes, won a bottle of champagne once
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt - no, see 31 above
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa - Yes! Forgot this one - went to Morocco on a day trip when we went to a mate's wedding in Gibraltar. Was v smelly and intimidating and hot.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight - yes, was lovely
46. Been transported in an ambulance - no, but did do a mercy dash to Casualty when Mr Withay was bleeding like a stuck pig and had to have a transfusion.
47. Had your portrait painted - yes! By the artist Mick Cawston, in a pub.
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling - Scuba diving off the Turkish coast. Was interesting.
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud - Usually with gunpowder
54. Gone to a drive-in theatre - We don't have those over here
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class - Yes, the instructor took the piss out of me for "obviously liking cake". I complained and got my money back. Bastard.
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching - Yes, saw humpbacks, off the coast of Massachussetts
63. Got flowers for no reason -Yes, have been sent them by others, and also bought them for myself.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma - blood. Am A negative, if anyone needs any.
65. Gone sky diving - Are you insane? No.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favourite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial - see No 31 above
71. Eaten caviar - Mmmm fish jam
72. Pieced a quilt - I think my Mum still has the bits in her attic
73. Stood in Times Square - see 31 above
74. Toured the Everglades - see 31 above
75. Been fired from a job - Yep, barmaiding...so the landlord could give his horrible girlfriend my job.
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London - Often.
77. Broken a bone - right collarbone, left elbow, right little toe (not at the same time) - all from falling downstairs though. Am a clumsy oaf.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle - yep (Mum stop reading now) Was doing 110mph on the motorway on the back; when we slowed down to 50 I stood up on the footpegs cos it felt like we'd stopped. Eep.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person - no, see 31 above
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper - many times, usually dressed as a scraggy seventeenth century re-enactor
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating - well, have watched someone else do it, and helped out a bit.
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life - Yep, see Mercy Dash at no 46. Also dragged Dutch woman out of the river when we almost died in the Turkish Ravine Incident.
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous - Several, Lorraine Chase tipped me a quid in 1983 when I was waitressing. Which was a lot then.
92. Joined a book club - Yes, left again though
93. Lost a loved one - too many.
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person - again, see no.31
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake - yadda yadda yadda no. 31
97. Been involved in a law suit - yep, sued a nutter who wrote my car off and had no insurance. Git.
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
What a rich and full life.
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Rules.
Ah, another glorious week in the buzzing metropolis is well underway. And I am working at home tomorrow, so yay me. I amused myself on the train ride home tonight by:
a) Finishing my book. "The Suspicions of Mr Whicher: or the Murder at Road Hill House" by Kate Summerscale...most excellent.
b) Listening to AC/DC's new album Black Ice on my iPod. Am still really enjoying it.
c) Composing a list of public transport misdemeanours that should, at the very least, earn you a sharp whack on the nose with a rolled up copy of the Metro.
My list is still evolving, but so far it runs thus:
1) Having your iPod up so loud that I can hear it over the top of mine when you are sitting on the other side of the carriage to me. It is going to make you deaf, you selfish fuckwit, but more to the point, it is really, really annoying. And your choice in music sounds shite.
2) Reading and walking at the same time. I mean, come on. Are we all supposed to think you are a truly intellectual, really deep thinker, unable to bear interacting with the mass of humanity for even the time it takes to negotiate a set of stairs and a ticket gate? Not with that lowbrow action thriller clutched in your sweaty paw, you oaf. Put it away and look where you're going before you get accidentally pushed down an escalator.
3) Sneezing. Yes, I know everyone does it. But try and do it before you get onto the Tube. And for the sake of us all, use a tissue. Do NOT do what one especially disgusting oaf did last week, and sneeze all over your hands, then wipe the mess (and there was a lot of mess) onto the grab rail. Ugh. And ugh again.
4) Getting to the top of a crowded escalator and then just standing there, trying to decide if you want the Eastbound or the Westbound District Line. Yes you, tiny Japanese couple with huge cases. I am talking to you.
5) Grunting. It needs no further explanation. But if you are dozing on a train, and the woman next to you suddenly jabs you in the ribs and hisses "Stop that", that's why.
6) Looking like a nutter on a crowded platform when everyone is having to do that horrible impression of the pennies arcade game where you wait for them to push each other off the ledges and into the winning tray.
7) Eating delicious-smelling food. Especially, and I cannot stress this enough, when it is half past seven at night, I haven't eaten since noon, and I am still an hour away from my supper. You fat greedy pie-eating bastard.
I daresay I will add more. And hey, feel free to join in.
a) Finishing my book. "The Suspicions of Mr Whicher: or the Murder at Road Hill House" by Kate Summerscale...most excellent.
b) Listening to AC/DC's new album Black Ice on my iPod. Am still really enjoying it.
c) Composing a list of public transport misdemeanours that should, at the very least, earn you a sharp whack on the nose with a rolled up copy of the Metro.
My list is still evolving, but so far it runs thus:
1) Having your iPod up so loud that I can hear it over the top of mine when you are sitting on the other side of the carriage to me. It is going to make you deaf, you selfish fuckwit, but more to the point, it is really, really annoying. And your choice in music sounds shite.
2) Reading and walking at the same time. I mean, come on. Are we all supposed to think you are a truly intellectual, really deep thinker, unable to bear interacting with the mass of humanity for even the time it takes to negotiate a set of stairs and a ticket gate? Not with that lowbrow action thriller clutched in your sweaty paw, you oaf. Put it away and look where you're going before you get accidentally pushed down an escalator.
3) Sneezing. Yes, I know everyone does it. But try and do it before you get onto the Tube. And for the sake of us all, use a tissue. Do NOT do what one especially disgusting oaf did last week, and sneeze all over your hands, then wipe the mess (and there was a lot of mess) onto the grab rail. Ugh. And ugh again.
4) Getting to the top of a crowded escalator and then just standing there, trying to decide if you want the Eastbound or the Westbound District Line. Yes you, tiny Japanese couple with huge cases. I am talking to you.
5) Grunting. It needs no further explanation. But if you are dozing on a train, and the woman next to you suddenly jabs you in the ribs and hisses "Stop that", that's why.
6) Looking like a nutter on a crowded platform when everyone is having to do that horrible impression of the pennies arcade game where you wait for them to push each other off the ledges and into the winning tray.
7) Eating delicious-smelling food. Especially, and I cannot stress this enough, when it is half past seven at night, I haven't eaten since noon, and I am still an hour away from my supper. You fat greedy pie-eating bastard.
I daresay I will add more. And hey, feel free to join in.
Sunday, 16 November 2008
What chores
So, Salisbury was nice and quiet at half past eight on Saturday morning.
I went into town that early because I had a hair appointment at 0845, and it was fab. Loads of parking spaces, no crowds, no litter...excellent. Of course, most of the shops weren't open, but hey, a small price to pay.
I wandered through the market, which was still being set up, and admired the stalls without having to fight my way though hordes of slack-jawed potato-headed dawdlers, standing and chatting in the middle of the tiny little alleys. Bastards that they are.
It felt like Abroad, seeing the market people shifting their stuff about in the sunshine, making artistic vegetable displays and polishing the piles of batteries, sheepskin slippers and jigsaws.
You can get pretty much anything at Salisbury market.
Anyhoo, hair done*, I launched myself out into the streets to run a few errands. I went to Monsoon and looked at the clothes, and had a quick chat with the nice lady who helped me with my New Job Clothes shopping.
I went to Mark and Spencer and spent a happy 20 minutes picking up tops in Per Una, humming and hawing over them, trying them against myself, finding matching skirts, then putting everything back and not buying anything after a sudden surge of boredom washed over me.
I went to Shoon and exchanged a pair of shoes, after the heel of one of them went white. Very strange. At first I thought I'd stepped in chalk or something, but it didn't come off when I tried to clean it, and I realised that the entire heel, a sort of moulded resin/plastic stuff, had in fact changed colour. It looked a bit like chocolate does when it gets that white bloom on it. Any industrial chemists out there who can offer an explanation?
I'd only had them 6 weeks and they were quite expensive, so I got the shop to change them, which they did cheerfully and with no fuss. So yay for Shoon.
I went to Specsavers and had the nose pieces on my glasses replaced. I tried cleaning them (there's a theme developing here) but they had gone all skanky and discoloured and made me look like I am a filthy pig who never washes her face. So they had to go.
I don't want people knowing stuff like that about me straight off.
Did a bit of shopping, bought loads of inserts for my Filofax, including a street map of London, which will come in handy. I am well aware how sad it is that I like stationery shops as much as I do.
Bought a copy of the Big Issue off a guy who said "Come on darling...to you, one pound fifty and a smile...light up my day." Heh. I am such a sucker for a bit of chat.
As I was driving home I passed a big handmade sign on a fence that said "Happy Retirement Crazy Dave!!" (I think..the name isn't important). I wondered how you retire from being crazy, and go about spending the rest of your life being sane and sensible.
There was a dad and two little boys walking into town, the dad carrying a cake tin shaped like the number 5. Holding his hand was the smaller of the boys (probably the 5-year-old), who was wearing a big hooded coat, carrying a plastic sword. As I got closer I saw that under the hood, he sported a full-face mask, making him look like The Boy In The Iron Mask. The look on his dad's face clearly said He Refused To Leave The House Without It.
And last night we went to a mate's birthday party, which was lovely. We ate the world's largest paella and saw lots of friends. Marvellous.
And now I have to go to Morrison's. Mmm-mmmmm.
*Looks exactly the same as it did before, but has apparently regained bounce and lift due to the layers not being too heavy now.
I went into town that early because I had a hair appointment at 0845, and it was fab. Loads of parking spaces, no crowds, no litter...excellent. Of course, most of the shops weren't open, but hey, a small price to pay.
I wandered through the market, which was still being set up, and admired the stalls without having to fight my way though hordes of slack-jawed potato-headed dawdlers, standing and chatting in the middle of the tiny little alleys. Bastards that they are.
It felt like Abroad, seeing the market people shifting their stuff about in the sunshine, making artistic vegetable displays and polishing the piles of batteries, sheepskin slippers and jigsaws.
You can get pretty much anything at Salisbury market.
Anyhoo, hair done*, I launched myself out into the streets to run a few errands. I went to Monsoon and looked at the clothes, and had a quick chat with the nice lady who helped me with my New Job Clothes shopping.
I went to Mark and Spencer and spent a happy 20 minutes picking up tops in Per Una, humming and hawing over them, trying them against myself, finding matching skirts, then putting everything back and not buying anything after a sudden surge of boredom washed over me.
I went to Shoon and exchanged a pair of shoes, after the heel of one of them went white. Very strange. At first I thought I'd stepped in chalk or something, but it didn't come off when I tried to clean it, and I realised that the entire heel, a sort of moulded resin/plastic stuff, had in fact changed colour. It looked a bit like chocolate does when it gets that white bloom on it. Any industrial chemists out there who can offer an explanation?
I'd only had them 6 weeks and they were quite expensive, so I got the shop to change them, which they did cheerfully and with no fuss. So yay for Shoon.
I went to Specsavers and had the nose pieces on my glasses replaced. I tried cleaning them (there's a theme developing here) but they had gone all skanky and discoloured and made me look like I am a filthy pig who never washes her face. So they had to go.
I don't want people knowing stuff like that about me straight off.
Did a bit of shopping, bought loads of inserts for my Filofax, including a street map of London, which will come in handy. I am well aware how sad it is that I like stationery shops as much as I do.
Bought a copy of the Big Issue off a guy who said "Come on darling...to you, one pound fifty and a smile...light up my day." Heh. I am such a sucker for a bit of chat.
As I was driving home I passed a big handmade sign on a fence that said "Happy Retirement Crazy Dave!!" (I think..the name isn't important). I wondered how you retire from being crazy, and go about spending the rest of your life being sane and sensible.
There was a dad and two little boys walking into town, the dad carrying a cake tin shaped like the number 5. Holding his hand was the smaller of the boys (probably the 5-year-old), who was wearing a big hooded coat, carrying a plastic sword. As I got closer I saw that under the hood, he sported a full-face mask, making him look like The Boy In The Iron Mask. The look on his dad's face clearly said He Refused To Leave The House Without It.
And last night we went to a mate's birthday party, which was lovely. We ate the world's largest paella and saw lots of friends. Marvellous.
And now I have to go to Morrison's. Mmm-mmmmm.
*Looks exactly the same as it did before, but has apparently regained bounce and lift due to the layers not being too heavy now.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Fidgets
I am snuffling annoyingly, but as I am at home today it doesn't seem so bad somehow. And it's not raining, which is nice.
You do see some types on the train, though, don't you? There was a woman sat next to me on Monday night who should win some sort of award for "Most Tiresome Traveller".
She was middle aged, determinedly blonde in a "Hey, I still have great looks, everyone" kind of way, and dressed like I used to when I was about 15. She had strategically placed her bags and coats all over two seats, trying to stop anyone from sitting next to her, and had her head down, ignoring all the passengers as they got onto the train.
Ahah. I don't fall for that ploy any more. Taking a leaf out of a chap's book who I had watched with admiration that very morning, I said "Shall I put those up on the rack for you?" as I started taking off my coat, and making it obvious I was going to sit there. She looked at me in frank dismay and started gathering up all her stuff, obviously not pleased that I was going to be joining her.
But, if she wants two seats, she can pay for two seats, is what I say. Well, thought. But she could read it in my body language I think.
Anyhoo. She cleared all her stuff away and I sat down, intending to read my book. FidgetWoman was writing letters, or postcards or something, and gradually twisted herself round in the seat till she was sticking her fat arse into me, in a manner I would have thought over familiar in my best friend.
I responded by fidgeting right back at her, putting in my iPod and shuffling around till she realised she was encroaching. She muttered an apology as she sat up straight again. I was tempted to pull the middle armrest down in a challenging and decisive manner, but that seemed a bit too overtly rude. She went back to her writing (she had really stupid handwriting, all big loops and twiddly bits, probably signed her name with a heart over it, not that I was looking), spreading her pens, notebooks, cards and assorted crap all over the table, much to the annoyance of the girl opposite who was trying to read some big serious looking work papers.
After what felt like about 17 hours of this, she excused herself and headed off to the toilet*, meaning I had to wake up from my half-doze and stagger to my feet so she could get past me.
When she came back, I went to stand up but she said "No, no, I'll sit here..." and slid into an empty seat across the aisle. Heh. My "I hate you and everything you stand for" body language is coming on a treat.
After a bit she decided she needed all her bags and crap, so leaned right over the table to pick them up. I offered to move again, but she said "No, it's fine, it's fine," in a flustered manner. The girl opposite and I shared A Look.
Eventually, FidgetWoman had gathered up all her stuff, and as she dragged it across the table, something wet and sticky in one of the bags sprayed all over all three of us. I looked at her in stunned amazement, clearly giving her the "How can anyone be that fucking stupid?" face I do so well.
The girl opposite silently wiped her papers with one hand, then fetched a clean tissue from her bag and wiped her face, before continuing with her reading. Every now and again we shared another Look.
I examined my bag (splattered), my suit (unmarked, or she'd have been stuffed out of the window into the middle of Wiltshire head first) and my beautiful scarf (covered in fuck knows what). Rather than emitting a loud cry of rage and strangling her with it, as I wanted to do, I merely *tch*ed, folded it up and put it in my bag.
It's great being British.
I did amuse myself by watching FidgetWoman's attempts to pretend she was relaxed and happy for the rest of the journey, though. Heh.
Other odd things I saw on the train this week:
1) A large amount of what looked like hemp rope, neatly coiled up in the middle of the track.
2) A small dead greenfinch in the corridor between two carriages. The guard walked down, spotted it, said "Aha! A freeloader!", picked it up by one claw (the bird's not his, he had normal hands as far as I could tell) and flung it into a secret guard alcove in the corridor. Perhaps to add to the stewpot for supper that night, who knows?
3) A middle aged chap in a mostly respectable work outfit, carrying a battered skateboard to use for the rest of his commute.
*Well, I assumed that's where she went. She might have been looking for a contract killer in need of a quick job.
You do see some types on the train, though, don't you? There was a woman sat next to me on Monday night who should win some sort of award for "Most Tiresome Traveller".
She was middle aged, determinedly blonde in a "Hey, I still have great looks, everyone" kind of way, and dressed like I used to when I was about 15. She had strategically placed her bags and coats all over two seats, trying to stop anyone from sitting next to her, and had her head down, ignoring all the passengers as they got onto the train.
Ahah. I don't fall for that ploy any more. Taking a leaf out of a chap's book who I had watched with admiration that very morning, I said "Shall I put those up on the rack for you?" as I started taking off my coat, and making it obvious I was going to sit there. She looked at me in frank dismay and started gathering up all her stuff, obviously not pleased that I was going to be joining her.
But, if she wants two seats, she can pay for two seats, is what I say. Well, thought. But she could read it in my body language I think.
Anyhoo. She cleared all her stuff away and I sat down, intending to read my book. FidgetWoman was writing letters, or postcards or something, and gradually twisted herself round in the seat till she was sticking her fat arse into me, in a manner I would have thought over familiar in my best friend.
I responded by fidgeting right back at her, putting in my iPod and shuffling around till she realised she was encroaching. She muttered an apology as she sat up straight again. I was tempted to pull the middle armrest down in a challenging and decisive manner, but that seemed a bit too overtly rude. She went back to her writing (she had really stupid handwriting, all big loops and twiddly bits, probably signed her name with a heart over it, not that I was looking), spreading her pens, notebooks, cards and assorted crap all over the table, much to the annoyance of the girl opposite who was trying to read some big serious looking work papers.
After what felt like about 17 hours of this, she excused herself and headed off to the toilet*, meaning I had to wake up from my half-doze and stagger to my feet so she could get past me.
When she came back, I went to stand up but she said "No, no, I'll sit here..." and slid into an empty seat across the aisle. Heh. My "I hate you and everything you stand for" body language is coming on a treat.
After a bit she decided she needed all her bags and crap, so leaned right over the table to pick them up. I offered to move again, but she said "No, it's fine, it's fine," in a flustered manner. The girl opposite and I shared A Look.
Eventually, FidgetWoman had gathered up all her stuff, and as she dragged it across the table, something wet and sticky in one of the bags sprayed all over all three of us. I looked at her in stunned amazement, clearly giving her the "How can anyone be that fucking stupid?" face I do so well.
The girl opposite silently wiped her papers with one hand, then fetched a clean tissue from her bag and wiped her face, before continuing with her reading. Every now and again we shared another Look.
I examined my bag (splattered), my suit (unmarked, or she'd have been stuffed out of the window into the middle of Wiltshire head first) and my beautiful scarf (covered in fuck knows what). Rather than emitting a loud cry of rage and strangling her with it, as I wanted to do, I merely *tch*ed, folded it up and put it in my bag.
It's great being British.
I did amuse myself by watching FidgetWoman's attempts to pretend she was relaxed and happy for the rest of the journey, though. Heh.
Other odd things I saw on the train this week:
1) A large amount of what looked like hemp rope, neatly coiled up in the middle of the track.
2) A small dead greenfinch in the corridor between two carriages. The guard walked down, spotted it, said "Aha! A freeloader!", picked it up by one claw (the bird's not his, he had normal hands as far as I could tell) and flung it into a secret guard alcove in the corridor. Perhaps to add to the stewpot for supper that night, who knows?
3) A middle aged chap in a mostly respectable work outfit, carrying a battered skateboard to use for the rest of his commute.
*Well, I assumed that's where she went. She might have been looking for a contract killer in need of a quick job.
Sunday, 9 November 2008
Bites
It sounds like the end of the world outside. Rain lashing against the windows, high winds, mysterious crashing noises from the garden, the wailing of the damned. Brrrrr.
And, just to make my day perfect, I have a cold. Bloody great. Was just about recovered from the bronchitis (bar the occasional lung-busting coughing fit) and now I am the vile Queen of the Snot People. Lovely.
Ah well, I can drag my weary carcass to London tomorrow and make everyone feel uneasy as I sniffle my way through the day. It's good to have plans.
Mr WithaY's kind mate who brought him home from Heathrow came round for lunch today, and showed us the rather fab DVD he is making with all the podcasts from the shark-tagging trip. I had assumed that they did all the tagging from inside a cage under the water.
No no no.
They were in a very small inflatable boat, jabbing at the sharks from above, as other members of the team dangled revolting bits of dead fish in the water, jerking them away from the shark just as it thought it was getting a nice mouthful. They have photos of one of these small boats with a huge hole bitten in the side, after one of the Great White Sharks decided she had had enough of this treatment. Gah.
I'm very glad I had no idea that was all going on.
So. Time for a bite (heh) of supper and then an early night, and then tomorrow a long day up to the Smoke. But Mr WithaY is home, so at least I won't be coming home to a cold*, dark, empty house, to eat my meagre supper of bread and scrape** and cry myself to sleep***.
*Well, warm, but you know, dramtic license
**Fresh pasta and ice cream, but not in the same bowl
***Watch Futurama DVDs and then have a nice bath
And, just to make my day perfect, I have a cold. Bloody great. Was just about recovered from the bronchitis (bar the occasional lung-busting coughing fit) and now I am the vile Queen of the Snot People. Lovely.
Ah well, I can drag my weary carcass to London tomorrow and make everyone feel uneasy as I sniffle my way through the day. It's good to have plans.
Mr WithaY's kind mate who brought him home from Heathrow came round for lunch today, and showed us the rather fab DVD he is making with all the podcasts from the shark-tagging trip. I had assumed that they did all the tagging from inside a cage under the water.
No no no.
They were in a very small inflatable boat, jabbing at the sharks from above, as other members of the team dangled revolting bits of dead fish in the water, jerking them away from the shark just as it thought it was getting a nice mouthful. They have photos of one of these small boats with a huge hole bitten in the side, after one of the Great White Sharks decided she had had enough of this treatment. Gah.
I'm very glad I had no idea that was all going on.
So. Time for a bite (heh) of supper and then an early night, and then tomorrow a long day up to the Smoke. But Mr WithaY is home, so at least I won't be coming home to a cold*, dark, empty house, to eat my meagre supper of bread and scrape** and cry myself to sleep***.
*Well, warm, but you know, dramtic license
**Fresh pasta and ice cream, but not in the same bowl
***Watch Futurama DVDs and then have a nice bath
Friday, 7 November 2008
Crossed wires
The phone rang earlier this morning. I scampered* to answer it, thinking it might be work.
It was Mr WithaY.
"Gosh! Hello!" I cried, delighted to hear his voice. "How are you? Where are you?" I expected him to say "Houston"...or maybe even "California".
"Heathrow airport" he replied, rather tetchily.
"Already? But you're not due there till Sunday! I'm coming to pick you up!"
Ahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa but no.
What was written in my diary, which I had been working to, was complete bollocks. He landed at Heathrow this morning, and I wasn't there to bring him home. I must be eligible for some sort of Crap Wife Award, surely?
Fortunately, one of the other divers lives a few miles away and very kindly gave Mr WithaY (and all his dive kit) a lift home. Otherwise he'd have had a dull couple of hours while I drove up there to fetch him.
Anyway, he's home safe and sound, and is currently sleeping off his jetlag. In fact, it's time I took him a cup of tea and woke him up.
I'm glad he's back.
*Limped. My knees are a mess.
It was Mr WithaY.
"Gosh! Hello!" I cried, delighted to hear his voice. "How are you? Where are you?" I expected him to say "Houston"...or maybe even "California".
"Heathrow airport" he replied, rather tetchily.
"Already? But you're not due there till Sunday! I'm coming to pick you up!"
Ahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa but no.
What was written in my diary, which I had been working to, was complete bollocks. He landed at Heathrow this morning, and I wasn't there to bring him home. I must be eligible for some sort of Crap Wife Award, surely?
Fortunately, one of the other divers lives a few miles away and very kindly gave Mr WithaY (and all his dive kit) a lift home. Otherwise he'd have had a dull couple of hours while I drove up there to fetch him.
Anyway, he's home safe and sound, and is currently sleeping off his jetlag. In fact, it's time I took him a cup of tea and woke him up.
I'm glad he's back.
*Limped. My knees are a mess.
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
Battered
No, not the sausages. They are still in my fridge, waiting for me to be at home long enough to cook and eat a proper meal.
My knees.
Guess what I did yesterday? I fell over! Yay me! And yes, I know that everyone who knows me is slapping their foreheads and going "Oh not again!" to themselves.
My Arch Nemesis, Doctor Gravity, never sleeps.
I was on my way to Middle Sis's house after work, and had successfully negotiated the majority of the Victoria line without falling down a hole, or being eaten by rats, which I felt was a bit of an achievement.
My troubles began at Walthamstow. As do so many troubles, I suppose.
I staggered up onto the platform looking for a ticket office, because the Oyster system ends at Walthamstow and you have to buy a paper ticket.
How last century! Paper!
Anyhoo, I was too busy looking for the ticket place that I didn't see a small* lumpy bit of platform, tripped, and fell over. Not a discreet stumble, either...this was a full body splat, complete with swearing. Several kindly commuters rushed to my aid, and none of them tried to nick my bag, which was nice.
And today I have truly magnificent bruises on both knees, and have slightly damaged my engagement ring, so will need to go and get it sorted by a jeweller.
So ARSE to Walthamstow station.
On the plus side, once I managaed to navigate the rest of the way to Middle Sis's house, we all went out for a sumptuous Thai meal to celebrate Bro-in-Law's birthday, which was excellent. Mmmmmm. Thai.
Other Tube news: Saw Phil Jupitus at Embankment looking rather like a 19th Century Russian nobleman.
Spent today at a conference in the Royal Lancaster hotel, which I can recommend. I only saw the conference room and the dining room, but it was very nice. Lunch was excellent. I always feel a bit like a street urchin when I go into a hotel like that, though. You know, having to resist the urge to wipe my nose on my sleeve and offer to shine people's shoes or hold their horses for them.
I expect the Royal Lancaster has special sleeve wipers and horse holders of its own. In bowler hats.
Another long day though. Just as well I don't go into the office on a Wednesday....although, hey...wait....
*alright, teeny. But definitely big enough to make me fall over.
My knees.
Guess what I did yesterday? I fell over! Yay me! And yes, I know that everyone who knows me is slapping their foreheads and going "Oh not again!" to themselves.
My Arch Nemesis, Doctor Gravity, never sleeps.
I was on my way to Middle Sis's house after work, and had successfully negotiated the majority of the Victoria line without falling down a hole, or being eaten by rats, which I felt was a bit of an achievement.
My troubles began at Walthamstow. As do so many troubles, I suppose.
I staggered up onto the platform looking for a ticket office, because the Oyster system ends at Walthamstow and you have to buy a paper ticket.
How last century! Paper!
Anyhoo, I was too busy looking for the ticket place that I didn't see a small* lumpy bit of platform, tripped, and fell over. Not a discreet stumble, either...this was a full body splat, complete with swearing. Several kindly commuters rushed to my aid, and none of them tried to nick my bag, which was nice.
And today I have truly magnificent bruises on both knees, and have slightly damaged my engagement ring, so will need to go and get it sorted by a jeweller.
So ARSE to Walthamstow station.
On the plus side, once I managaed to navigate the rest of the way to Middle Sis's house, we all went out for a sumptuous Thai meal to celebrate Bro-in-Law's birthday, which was excellent. Mmmmmm. Thai.
Other Tube news: Saw Phil Jupitus at Embankment looking rather like a 19th Century Russian nobleman.
Spent today at a conference in the Royal Lancaster hotel, which I can recommend. I only saw the conference room and the dining room, but it was very nice. Lunch was excellent. I always feel a bit like a street urchin when I go into a hotel like that, though. You know, having to resist the urge to wipe my nose on my sleeve and offer to shine people's shoes or hold their horses for them.
I expect the Royal Lancaster has special sleeve wipers and horse holders of its own. In bowler hats.
Another long day though. Just as well I don't go into the office on a Wednesday....although, hey...wait....
*alright, teeny. But definitely big enough to make me fall over.
Monday, 3 November 2008
Mmmmmmmmmpork
Had a very pleasant weekend, with a mate visiting for a few days. So we did a lot of touristy stuff, including having afternoon tea at the Red Lion in Salisbury. Well, it was pissing down with rain, and we were hungry.
We also bought our own weight in pork products from the butcher in Fish Row, which I cooked over the next couple of days, culminating in a traditional Sunday roast. It was all very civilised.
Today I have mostly been doing domestic stuff and eating leftover roast pork.
Back to work tomorrow, which I am looking forward to. Especially as I am staying at Middle Sis' house, which will be great.
And Mr WithaY comes home next weekend, all being well. Yay.
So. Not much news. Sorry.
We also bought our own weight in pork products from the butcher in Fish Row, which I cooked over the next couple of days, culminating in a traditional Sunday roast. It was all very civilised.
Today I have mostly been doing domestic stuff and eating leftover roast pork.
Back to work tomorrow, which I am looking forward to. Especially as I am staying at Middle Sis' house, which will be great.
And Mr WithaY comes home next weekend, all being well. Yay.
So. Not much news. Sorry.
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