Cadfail

I was going to get loads done today, but instead I am crouching over my PC with a hangover, feebly flicking between Twitter, Amazon and Facebook, the unholy trinity of time-wasting.

The plan was to get up early(ish), drive over to Salisbury and get a car-full from the Cash & Carry, then perhaps saunter into town for a bite of lunch and a look at the Sunday Christmas market.  That's not happening.

What actually happened was rather less festive.  I woke up at 6am and  stumbled out to the bathroom, where I encountered Mr WithaY, pale and shuddering, red-eyed and hollow-voiced, possibly drinking water from the cold tap, I'm not too sure.  My eyes seemed to be somewhat defective. He announced that he had a hangover.  I said something vaguely sympathetic and went back to bed.  He then crashed out in the spare room, where I found him several hours later, supine and inarticulate.

I made us both cups of tea and bacon sandwiches, and made him drink a very large glass of water before he had anything to eat. He is now asleep on the sofa downstairs, the dog asleep on his feet.  This sudden malady might be explained by the excellent dinner party we were invited to last night, but I suspect Mr WithaY was already dehydrated.

Yesterday morning he decided to go over to the Ancient Technology Centre for their Medieval Day.  This entailed him scampering up into the loft (in his dressing gown, in high excitement) to retrieve the Medieval kit I made for him a while ago, and various other bits and pieces required to turn him into a fashionable Medieval crossbowman-about-town.

Off he went, clutching his boar spear*, his crossbow and a packed lunch, to spend the day wandering around in the rain, delighting visitors with his well-made jacket.

As usually happens when he is off doing this kind of thing - and yes, he does this kind of thing a fair bit - he failed to keep himself hydrated throughout the day, so when we went out for dinner last night, the finest wines known to humanity had a devastating effect on his delicate physiology.

As a result, this morning he is stretched out on the sofa like a Romantic poet on an opium binge, a glass of water at his elbow and cruddy daytime TV in the background.

I'd like to be smug about it, but I am not much better myself. We're supposed to be taking part in the pub quiz later this evening, but I'm not entirely sure we'd be up to our usual brilliant standard.

In other news: I have the date for my surgery. January 2nd, with the pre-op on Dec 23rd, neatly bookending the festive season.  The good thing about having it done so soon is that hopefully I will have recuperated fully by the time things start to get busy in the Spring, and before Mr WithaY has to be away a lot for work.

Before then, though, we've got a couple of large-ish catering events to deliver, as well as the Christmas stuff.  Lots going on.







*Not a euphemism

Sacked

It's been a busy day here.  In preparation for the Grand Cake Etcetera Sale tomorrow I have been baking.  I made a shitload of clementine and chocolate cupcakes (yes, that is the correct unit of measurement, ask a baker) and a coffee and walnut sandwich sponge which looks rather good.

I have also been finishing off the bits and pieces I will be offering for sale to a discerning public.

Look:

They are (pics from top to bottom)
1) Small, medium and large hearts filled with dried rose petals that I harvested from the garden and dried last summer.
2) Cushions. 2 matching, one individual.
3) Bunting.  Bloody yards of it.
4) More fabric hearts, these ones stuffed with, well, stuffing.

I have also made some pretty mini memo boards, along the lines of the ones I made earlier, but much smaller, designed to stand on a mantelpiece or shelf.

Oh, and some bookmarks, which I really like.

In other news, I looked out of the window into the back garden this afternoon and this is the sight that greeted me:

Our apple tree, festooned in hessian sacks.

I looked at it for a while, my jaw sagging open unappealing, then went to find Mr WithaY.

The scene:  A domestic garage, lit by bright afternoon sunshine.

Me:  Just.....why?

Mr WithaY: (without even looking up from his manly garage-sorting task) To dry them out.

Fin.

Paint it ...cream

Today, I ache.  My arms, my tummy, my back, and most especially, my knees.

Mr WithaY and I spent yesterday decorating at my lovely Mum's house.  We painted the bedroom - a small-ish room, to be fair - in a day.  Ceiling, walls, woodwork.  We work fast when we get going.  Plus it was really nice emulsion and satinwood paint which went on easy and dried fast.  And, though I say so myself, it looked really smart when we'd finished.  And, the most important thing, my lovely Mum was pleased.

On the way home, me driving, Mr WithaY in the passenger seat, we were discussing how much lighter the evenings are now.

Me:  Wow, it's half past five and not dark.  Excellent.

Mr WithaY:  And the mornings are lighter, which is great.

Me:  I woke up really early and although the sun wasn't up, it was light.  I guess it stays light for a bit after the sun sets too?

Mr WithaY:  Yes, that's why you're legally allowed to shoot for an hour after sunset and before sunrise, as it's still light.

Me:  So this would be "dusk" about now?

Mr WithaY:  Yep, the sun has gone down but it's not dark.

Me:  And there's the morning version of dusk as well.

Mr WithaY: (After a short, incredulous pause).  Yes. You mean "dawn."

We had stopped at some traffic lights, which was just as well, because we both laughed until we cried.

Easily amused, we are.

What else is new?  Well, in big procurement news, I have bought a staple gun.  I make these pretty padded memo boards, and they require quite a lot of stapling to keep everything in place.  Previously, I have borrowed Mr WithaY's heavy duty staple gun, but I thought I should get one of my own, dedicated for girlie craft stuff rather than stapling animal skins to trees or whatever it is he does all day.

I picked one up in Homebase - almost £25, thank you very much - a few months ago, and it sat on my shelf, waiting to be useful.  It has a handy little plastic tool case, so I felt like a real professional when I unpacked it for the first time at the weekend.

Readers, it was SHITE.

Really.  Almost everything about it was awful.  The staples have to be dropped down a tube to load it, and then a separate spring-loaded stick thingy gets pushed down the hole to hold them in place.  Unless you get the angle of pitch EXACTLY right, the staples break apart and jam the stapler.  I assumed I was being too oafish and heavy-handed, and persevered until I had a cartridge of staples inserted properly.  I tried it out on a thick wad of newspaper.  There was a satisfying THUNK noise.

When I looked at the newspaper, though, the staple was only partially embedded, with a clear air gap between the cross piece and the paper.  I dicked about with the adjustment wheel thingy that alters the force of the staple, and tried several more times.  No discernible difference.  Still a big air gap.

Isn't it interesting that there are so many technicalities to stapling?  No?

Anyway.  I decided to carry on, as I had already started 4 memo boards.  I continued with the lame-ass half-stapling for a while, until I had finished the first stage of the memo board making process, and then I went and found a small hammer from Mr WithaY's study.  I like creative projects which require hammers.

I went round all of the work I'd already done and hammered all these stupid not-even-making-an-effort staples so that they were properly embedded, and then gave up in disgust.

After that, I went on Amazon and ordered a new stapler, advertised as being suitable for DIYand upholstery.  It arrived this morning, I have high hopes.

In the meanwhile, the Homebase stapler will be taken to a charity shop and left there to make some other poor sod's DIY/crafting a misery.  And I won't bother buying any of Homebase's own brand tools or equipment again.

Gah.

Other news:  Progress on the big long-term business plan is being made.  I might be able to actually tell people about it on here without feeling like I am jinxing it.

In related news, I took (and passed) an online food hygiene training course last week.  I now know not to lick raw chicken blood up off the floor.

Ear slugs

It seems as though winter has remembered what it's supposed to be doing, and we have had a much colder couple of days over the weekend.  Heavy frost, even.  Alright for me, I was snug at home with an abundant supply of tea, cake and duvets.  Mr WithaY, on the other hand, was living in the woods for a week, sleeping in a hand-made bender for at least one night.

Not, as I hoped, a wooden facsimile of the wise-cracking Futurama star, but a rude shelter crafted from sticks and tarpaulins.  Apparently it was "bloody cold" and a slug fell in his ear.  He said he removed it "immediately" which was a relief.

Ah, life in the wild.  I'm glad I'm only BY the woods, and not actually attempting to live in them.

Ah, slugs.

Years ago, when I was living in my teeny little student house in Winchester, Mr WithaY used to come and visit at weekends.  One night, one chilly damp night, I asked him to fetch me a glass of water from the kitchen.  The kitchen was downstairs, and it got visited by slugs.  I had stuffed all the cracks and ingress holes I could find with paper to try and keep them out.  I had put salt on the floor to stop them coming in. I had even, on the advice of a probably mental friend, put garlic on the floor to offend the slimy bastards.

Nothing worked, and most mornings I came downstairs to find slug trails all over the place...on the floor, up the walls, on the windows...it was revolting.

This particular night, Mr WithaY scampered downstairs to fetch the glass of water (he was young and in love, so was eager to please) and I heard an anguished cry of "Oh God NOOOOOOOO!"

I knew exactly what he'd trodden on with his bare feet.

I've been busy while he's been away, which has been very pleasant.  I hadn't realised quite how easy it could be to become isolated when you don't go out to work, and a few days of bad weather can make it very miserable.  Luckily for me, there are some fab people living in the village who don't mind me popping in to drink their tea and eat their biscuits every now and again.

Apart from socialising, I have been sewing.  And knitting.  And baking.  I made a chocolate cake as I had a mate coming over for tea one day, and it worked rather excellently, though I say so myself.  It's a cake with no flour in it, so it is potentially very mousse-y if you undercook it, but even if you do that, it's lovely.  It's made with dark chocolate and butter melted together, and sugar, eggs and vanilla, whisked up till it's huge and fluffy, all mixed together, then baked in the oven.  Nom nom nom.

I might make some more this week.

I've also been pruning things in the garden.  Roses, the crabapple tree and the flowering trees at the side of house  have all been chopped up tidily to within an inch of their lives.  Hopefully they'll all revive in time for the Spring.  We've already got a crocus in flower in the lawn, which is ridiculously early, and the snowdrops in sheltered corners are in flower.

Business developments are creeping along, but I'd rather we get everything sorted out now than discover in 3 months time that we didn't make the right decision, and have to start again.

Conversation

Me:  When you have an itchy palm on your right hand, does that mean you're going to come into money soon?

Mr WithaY:  Yes, it does.  That, or you've got a burrowing parasite.

Show and tell

I've been living in a creative maelstrom this week. It all started with a cake I made.

We've had success with the vegetable garden this summer, and have a lot - a LOT - of courgettes coming to fruition now.  Zucchini, for our American readers.  We're eating them with supper most nights, cooked in a variety of interesting ways, often sliced into long thin strips and pan-fried with mixed herbs and a little butter.  Nom nom nom.

Anyway.  I was flicking through a free magazine that came through the door, and lo! it contained a recipe for chocolate courgette cake.  I had to try it.

Readers, it was excellent.  Really.  Plenty of sugar, cocoa, eggs, flour, vanilla.  All the usual malarky, but you also add loads of finely grated courgette.  The cake was dark, moist and delicious, and I shall definitely make it again.  I tore the recipe out of the magazine and put it in the new noticeboard.

In fact, here's a link to the recipe. Try it, you'll thank me.  Plus, it's a great way to make children eat vegetables, apparently. 

Mwahahahahahaaaaaaa.

What's that you say?  Why, yes, I have made another fabulous notice board, thanks for asking.

Here it is, look:

Hanging in the kitchen, adding a much-needed point of interest to the otherwise dull sad corner where the bin lives.  None of the cool appliances ever go there.  It's like the Woking of the kitchen world. 

Inspired by my soaraway success in the noticeboard arena, I made some cushion covers to replace a couple that had got tatty and spotted*, utilising some of the fabric liberated from father-in-law WithaY's antique-restoring stash. 

Unfortunately, this gold one looks a bit sad and flat. I think it needs a new feather cushion thingy.  We all get a bit squashed by life, I reckon, but this poor cushion shows it more than most.

However, this one I am delighted with:

I spent bloody ages making sure the pattern was central to the front of the cushion, as I knew that otherwise, every time I looked at it I'd get all anal** and grumpy about it being off-centre.

There is a new set of bathroom curtains almost finished, too, I plan to get them up tomorrow.

Other news:  Went into town today thinking that the rain had stopped for the afternoon.  Fool that I was.  Mr T would have pitied me, no doubt about it.   

As soon as I parked the car and got the heavy box of crockery and assorted ephemera from the boot, the heavens opened.  Actually, I think the heavens opened, and hell was raining upwards, there was so much sodding water everywhere. 

I had to walk (slowly because of the heavy box) to the charity shop in torrential rain, blinded by the wet stringy hair that was in my eyes (mine, not someone else's with no concept of personal space) and my raincoat hood blinkering me like some sort of piteous Victorian cab-horse. 

Gah.

By the time I got to Oxfam and handed the box to the nice lady behind the counter, I was soaked.  My trousers were absolutely drenched, but my feet stayed dry - hurrah for Converse shoes! - so I thought I might as well walk around town as it wasn't physically possible to get any wetter.

A man from Wessex Water was stood on the pavement beside his van, watching the rain flooding down onto the main road from a narrow driveway, muddy water cascading into the drains.

"You out collecting?" I asked him.

He laughed and said  "Don't need to, we've got plenty thanks."

It's rained almost every day this month, or that's how it feels.  Hopefully we'll have a nice Indian summer next month.

My roses are looking splendid though.  All this rain has brought out a second crop of flowers, so I am dashing out and cutting a few in between downpours so we can enjoy them in the house. 

Mr WithaY bought me a proper woven willow shopping basket the other week when he was at the Wilderness Gathering.  It's a three day event where Men*** gather to do Manly Things.  However, he didn't stay there this time, he commuted from home daily.  Last time he went he slept in his little tent and spent the weekend making a fish spear, casually whittling and lashing as all the other manly men wandered past enviously.

I imagine he'll get a stern letter from Ray Mears, telling him off.

It was very impressive, though.



*Spotted with bits of food, mostly, from where we use them to rest trays on when we scarf down dinner in front of the telly.  Shame, shame, we are chavs and slatterns.  But, hey, Star Trek and all, right at dinnertime. 

**Welcome, dodgy word googlers!

***And women. 

Shopping list

Mr WithaY is out, wandering the wide open spaces of West Wiltshire, somewhere in the rain.  Where can he be, I wonder? 

Possibly sat in his Landrover stuck in a huge hole that even his mighty entrenching tool can't remedy? 

Possibly up a tree, clinging to a branch with a pack of snarling stoats after his blood, desperately trying to get a signal on his mobile to call for an airstrike*? 

Possibly sneakily shopping in Salisbury, buying me a fabulous Christmas present? 

Possibly sat in someone else's kitchen, drinking tea and eating cake?

I have no idea.  He'll be back eventually.  Given his track record, I am always slightly apprehensive if he's gone for more than a few hours, but fingers crossed, eh. 

I decided to Get Stuff Done, so went into town** and ran errands like a woman possessed.  I have ordered us a turkey for Christmas from the local butcher.  A free-range bronze, which sounds like it will be mighty tasty.  As the butcher was filling in the order form I asked him "It'll be dead, will it?"  He looked up at me for a moment, not quite sure if I was joking, then said "No, madam, but it will be in a box.  You'll just need to get it out and kill it."  He then did an exceptionally good mime of a man taking a live turkey out of a box, upside down.  If he gives up butchering the man has a career in alternative theatre just waiting for him.

I bought Christmas cards.  We decided this year we are not sending out hundreds of cards, but instead will make a donation to charity.  Most of the cards we get are just "To Name and Name love from Name and Name (and Name and Name and dog.)"   I always try to write a message in every card, because otherwise it seems like a bit of a waste of time, to be honest.  Anyway, we will send out some cards, but far fewer than we usually do.  I will have to make more of an effort and actually ring people to talk to them. 

I went to Lidl.  Ahhhhhh Lidl.  What a great shop.  You can get anything in there, if you turn up on the right day.  Today they were offering electronic keyboards, brioche pans (I bought one), slippers in a huge range of styles and sizes but only one colour*** and a drummer's stool.  A seat, I mean.  For sitting on.  Oh, and a nice little wooden cabinet with a glass-inlaid door.  Well, that's what I thought it was.  Turns out it is a box to keep tea bags in, but I like my idea better.  Anyway, I bought one.  I can't resist their weird bargains. 

I bought a couple of bottles of their Champagne which is usually not half bad, and some cheap brandy as the Christmas cake has finished all ours.  Greedy bloody cake that it is.  I swear it's started moving around the kitchen on its own, rummaging through the cupboards and mocking my crockery.

Where else...Ah yes. 

I went to Argos, as we needed a new iron**** and I can't be arsed with looking at stuff in electrical shops for hours.  All the Argos catalogues were open at the Wii pages, which I thought was funny.  I left a few open at the Ironing Accoutrement Pages so that people will think "Some poor bastard is in for a miserable Christmas present."  Heh. 

Other news:  I have been learning to play the acoustic version of "Hey Ya", the Obadiah Parker version.  Look it up on YouTube if you've never heard it.  Lovely.

Oh, and a mate put me onto Jeff Healey, who (shamefully) I had never heard of.  Disgraceful, I know.  What an astonishingly talented man. 

Unfortunately, though, when I see people who can play guitar like that it doesn't inspre me to become as good as them.  I just think "Why do I even bother?" and think about selling all my guitars.  I won't, but it is interesting to see exactly how uncompetitive I am in some areas.  Whilst still being dreadfully, inappropriately competitive in others, of course. 

Right. Time for a cup of tea.  I love Saturdays. 




*This one's my favourite idea.

**Ha!

***Beige

****Rock and Roll, man!  Rock and fucking roll.

Sparkles

Remember I told you about the glorious prize Mr Withay and I were awarded?  For our sterling efforts to introduce vegetable-based art to a wider audience? 

Yeah you do.

Anyway, here it is.  I ought to have provided a small red velvet cushion for it to rest on, and a series of artful, moody, backlit pictures by a professional photographer.  You will have to make do with the blurry amateur shots I have provided you with.  Hey, at least I didn't use my phone to take them. 

You're welcome.

Ooh, glitter!  All snowy and seasonal and beautiful!  But wait...what's that little object in the middle?  Wait for the swirling loveliness to subside.....

It's Belgium's most famous cultural artefact, of course, as befits a prize from Belgian Waffle.  Someone peeing.  In a glitter snowstorm.  Must be like being at a trippy 1960s music festival, in there. 

And there it is again, without the peeing.   Lovely.

Other news:  Went to see the family yesterday down at my lovely Mum's house.  We drove all the way through End of the World rain, which then kindly held off for much of the day, waiting only for us to begin our homeward trip. 

The floods!  The water running down the roads!  The spray on the motorway! 

It was all a bit scary, and once again I was glad I have a four by four with big chunky tyres.  Sod the enviroment.  When we drove through Salisbury at about 6pm, the water was gushing up through the roadside drains like fountains.  One particularly hardworking drain had a vertical surge of about 2 feet going on.  It would have been pretty if it hadn't been a sign of ground waterlogging, drain fullness and imminent flooding. 

We made it home safe and sound, although it took longer than usual, and there were several "spla-dooosh" moments.

Whilst down at Mum's, we went to the Christmas tree festival in her church.  They also had a temporary ice rink in there as part of the event.  The younger nieces and nephews flung themselves onto it with abandon.  It was great to see how they started off nervous, and gradually got more and more confident. 

Youngest Nephew was running at top speed round it on his skates after a few minutes.   Most entertaining. 

I liked the fact that the ice rink was sponsored.

And the church itself looked lovely.  Each tree was sponsored by a group or organisation, each one was decorated differently, and the individual and overall effect was impressive. 

These were taken on my phone, so apologies for the poor quality.  

Today I am mostly listening to music and keeping warm, as the weather is still shite.  Mr WithaY has ventured out in his Landrover, so hopefully will survive the floods, holes in the road and unexpected badger setts.  I once expressed concern at the size of the holes he was bumping through as we traversed a section of not-quite road.

"Please try to avoid the really big holes" I whined, fingers gripping the dashboard as my head richoched off the roof.

"I am!"

"No you aren't!  That one was HUGE!  It made me leave the seat entirely."

"No it wasn't....the really big ones are the ones that the whole truck fits in."

Apparently, in the past, people have been known to drive into what looks like a reasonable-sized crater, then the vehicle drops right into it and is effectively wedged into place and has to be dug and/or towed out.  Mr WithaY keeps an entrenching tool in the back of his Landrover for this very purpose.

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.

Strike!

Well, among the outdoorsy adventures of the weekend, Mr WithaY made a fishing spear*.

Look.



A work of art and beauty, whittled from twigs and that.

He's been trying it out.



It was most successful.



The hunter admires his prey.



Please note: No Beakers and Teddies were harmed** in the making of this blog.

*Once again, I wish I was kidding.

**Except for these two, obviously.

Pigtastic

So, I've been to Bath today.

Look:



We thought about going to have a giant teacake there but we ate our own weight in chicken at Wagamama's for lunch, so were too full on the way back to the car. Maybe next time.

It was rainy and warm, a nightmare combination, because you're wearing a coat to stop you getting wet, then you're far too hot. Because you're wearing a big raincoat.

Why aren't scientists fixing stuff like that? Tch.

Bath is having some sort of pigfest . We spotted several.













I particularly like "Piggles" at the end there.

The one with the bandage had a little sign saying "I have been to hospital, please DO NOT sit on me." Maybe I was seeing things, but he had a worried look in his eye.

I have a lovely picture in my head of 25 foreign* tourists all piling on his back and trying to take an amusing photo, with hilarious consequences.

Other news: Remember my glorious raffle victory from the weekend? Yeah you do. When I played my guitar with the band. Did I mention that already?

Well, check this out, all you sad unlucky non-raffle winners:





How great is that, eh?

Also. Been shopping for anti-mole hardware.

The problem:





Bastards have dug trenches all over the front garden, and are now making mole hills. So, I took Eldest Niece into town to the ironmongers** where we both eyed up the handsome young man behind the counter while I asked his advice. I bought this:



It's been installed:



Having a top-of-the-range sonic disrupter in the garden hasn't stopped Mr WithaY jabbing the ground with his longbow arrow, muttering furiously.

Tomorrow we're off to Salisbury, to the cinema if we can all agree on a film. I want to see the X Files, but as I am the only geek in the house, I may get outvoted.

We are definitely going to the Thai restaurant to eat, and I expect we'll look at eye makeup for a few hours. Eldest Niece is a bit of an expert. I haven't used so much makeup since I was testing the new camo range at the AGC open day.

Oh yes. Bought some hair straighteners. Managed not to set my hair alight. A proud day. My hair looked pretty much the same, but lacking the interesting waves and curls which make it look a bit special. So. Money well spent there.

I am going to give Eldest Niece ringlets*** at some point. What larks. It's fun being a girl. I forget sometimes.


*Italian, probably

**She's having the time of her life.

***She asked me to, it's not a punishment.

Moles, hills

The mole's back.

We thought he had been run over, as we found a very squashed, slightly dessicated corpse in the road outside the house. It was either a mole or a young rat on his way to watch a major sporting event, wearing two of those giant foam hands.

Anyway.

The front garden has an ever-increasing tunnel network developing, which is ruining the pristine loveliness of the velvet lawns.*

Mr WithaY, in an alarming echo of the grand old Jasper Carrott Mole Story, has taken to stamping furiously on the mole tunnel tracks, particularly where it looks like a molehill might be developing. He thinks this will annoy the moles to such an extent that they will go and live somewhere else.

Never mind the moles, I'm beginning to think that way.

This evening, apparently, he has been outside watching the ground, and when he saw movement, he jabbed down through the disturbed earth with one of his longbow arrows, trying to maim or destroy the little invaders.

Once again, I wish I was making this stuff up.

The moles must be thinking "Fuck, civilisation's crumbled....they've reverted to traditional weapons up there."

I might sneak out to Mole Valley Farmers and buy a trap over the weekend.

If I don't get a trap, I might just stock up on sheep ointment. And a new scythe. And some farmer-wear clothing. And a huge industrial-sized box of washing powder. And a ham. I love that shop.

Other news: Got stuck in the middle of a military convoy on my way to work this morning. I pulled out of a junction in the middle of Salisbury Plain and found myself sandwiched between about 7 huge trucks in front, and another 5 or so behind.

It was slow, slow going. I think the top speed we managed was about 35 mph. Going up the hills, we were down to a grindingly frustrating 15mph, plus I got to enjoy the choking fumes as the truck in front struggled to make it all the way up to the top.

Despite the bendy, hilly, high-hedged nature of most of the roads, some idiots did suicidal overtaking manoeuvres, causing the oncoming traffic to swerve and flash their lights. I always half hope to find the fuckwits in question upside down in a ditch around the next bend.

On the bright side, the police were out in force again with their "for your safety**" speed traps. If there's any justice, a certain silver Mercedes is getting a nasty letter through the post soon.

I feel a bit less grouchy about work too. I've decided to get a lot more assertive with people, and to simply get on with my job. To this end, I emailed one of the external organisations I deal with and told them "As from next month, I will no longer represent my organisation at your meetings. I have passed your requirements to our central strategic team, they will be in touch to let you know who can help you."

I copied the email to the strategic people (who I had already spoken to) and my new boss. By doing that, I free myself up at least 1 day a month in London, which also saves my office £100 quid in train tickets.

Also, as I am out of the office on holiday most of next week, I emailed my team with a list of stuff I want them to do while I'm away. They're a good team, and more than capable of getting on with stuff, but I feel better about having left them with my expectations.

But. Next week. On holiday for most of it. Yay!



*I told you, in my head I have a garden like Hampton Court Palace.

**my arse

Inner Dolphins

In a vain attempt to revive my flagging good nature by flooding it with inner dolphins, I went to the gym after work. Bloody hell it was hard.

Also meant I didn't get home till 7pm which is quite late for me.

As I pulled into the drive, Mr WithaY was scampering towards the gate clutching his longbow and a quiver of arrows.

Oh how I wish I was kidding.

He stopped and waited till I got out of the car, and then explained "I'm off to next door's! They've got archery targets in their field!" It was said in the same tone of voice as an excited child might tell you that they are going fishing for tadpoles.

So, off he went to do some archery for a bit while I had some supper and watched repeats of Friends on TV to try and unwind after a frankly crap day in the office. We both had a very nice time, thank you.

Other news: Bloody secret police have been out in force today trapping speeding motorists. I saw two unmarked police cars* in the same village, and then two police speed camera vans within about a three mile stretch of road on the way to work. Must be coming up to Wiltshire's Trapped Speeding Motorists quota time again.



*They had their top secret police lights flashing, which is how I knew what they were. In case you thought I might be psychic. Which I'm not.