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.

Finding my way

Well hello strangers.  It's been a while, hasn't it? 

Not because nothing of note has happened, either.  No, it's been more of a "not getting round to sitting down and writing" thing.  Also known as either "laziness" or "procrastination."  I prefer the latter.  It sounds as though I was busy doing other, more useful, stuff instead of writing. 

A mate suggested recently that once I finish work I'll be much happier, and will have more things to blog about.  I am actually wondering if I am already happier (in fact, I know that I am) and therefore my ranting and whining on here is less of a necessary vent, so happens less often.

What have I been up to?  You may well ask. 

This week has been a week of new things, in part.  A while ago, a mate asked me if I could help her out with a party she was catering, which sounded like fun.  I took the day off work, and agreed to meet her at the party venue.  Bear in mind that the party venue was in a small town/large village about 12 miles from where I live.  I had been asked to be there for 11am, so allowing for traffic (tractors, flocks of sheep in the road, pheasants dive bombing the car etc) I planned that by leaving home at 1030 I'd be there in plenty of time.

Come the day, come the hour.  I was ready to go by 1000 so thought "I'll get there early, it'll be fine."

That's me.  Punctual.  Well-prepared.  Willing.

Except - and it's a big except - in the map department.  I had checked the route on Google Maps the night before, so was confident that I knew how to get there.  I am aware that everyone who knows me in real life is by now slapping their forehead in despair, knowing all too well what is coming next.

Google maps did their best, I have no word of blame for them. 

West Wiltshire roads and signposts department, on the other hand...  Fuckers.

I have prepared a helpful visual aid to accompany this story.

Timeline:

1010 - leave house, spirits high, sun shining.  Set off along road through village, turn down smaller road and then immediately experience twinge of self-doubt.  Continue along road, certain that a signpost will soon tell me whether or not I am on the right road. 

1020 - no signposts.  No junctions.  No indicators of any kind that I am n the right road.  No helpful passers-by, or indeed any other traffic.  Wonder briefly if there has been a huge natural disaster in the night and I am the only person left alive for hundreds of miles*.  Try not to panic about this.

1030 - only junction seen so far was to a dead end with an "unsuitable for motor vehicles" sign.  And a ford.  Decide not to go down that road.  Still fairly relaxed that I have plenty of time to get to the party venue by 1100.

1035 - see a junction signposted to the Village of the Damned.  Recognise the name, and decide to take the turning, determined that I am on the wrong road, and need to take an alternative direction.

1040 - drive drive drive.  No traffic, nothing.  No signposts.  Enter the village of the damned, take the (wrong) turn at the only junction, continue along the endless road to nowhere.  Fuck.  Am now lost.  And likely to be late.

1050 - arrive mysteriously on a busy dual carriageway with signposts to many places, none of them where I need to be.  Head back towards Longleat, swearing copiously and fluently.  Am definitely going to be late.

1055 - Ooh Longleat.  Consider throwing myself to the lions, but decide to wait until after the party.

1110 - arrive at the party venue town, and then realise I am unable to find the actual venue location.  Stop in the middle of the street and hail the postman, who is very helpful and kind.  Abandon the car in nearby car park and walk the rest of the way.

1115 - arrive to help at party, only 15 minutes late.  Hurrah.  Am given glass of Champagne and a pinny.  Things are looking up.

The party was a 4 course meal for 60 people, to celebrate an 80th birthday.  It went very well, the food was praised, the atmosphere was lovely, and we more or less stuck to the timetable. 

Look how nice it all was:

The only slight glitch was the dishwasher.  It failed dramatically on first use, pissing water all over the kitchen floor, and we ended up having to wash everything by hand.

Aching back, dishpan hands and wet feet aside, it was great fun.

Plus we got to have some cake...

I was KNACKERED when I got home though.  I can't remember the last time I spent a day actually doing physical stuff, rather than just dicking about on computers. 

One of the highlights of the party for me was being introduced to a lovely German chap, who, when he shook my hand, did that heel-clicky thing.  Excellent.

Other news:  Yesterday I went to Bath to meet a friend, and spent a few hours very agreeably wandering the shops.  I found another lion. Remember the Elvis lion? Yeah you do.

I spotted a mini version of the same shape, different colouration, in a cafe where we had a cup of tea and a nice sit-down. 

Also took my phone to the Apple store there, to get it looked at by a professional.  It's been playing up lately, failing to shut down, or to restart, or to backup when I synch it with the PC. Not every time, just often enough to be a pain in the arse. 

The verdict of the Apple Genius I spoke to, after 20 minutes of careful examination and cross-questioning?

"Yeah...it's broken.  You need another one."

Well, glad I brought it in to you, Dr Obvious.  You've saved the day.

Gah.

Oh - if you are looking for gift ideas for someone you dislike, perhaps an irritating colleague, or an unloved family member, I recommend this:

It's an alarm clock that plays birdsong, or so it claims.  But look at it.  LOOK AT IT.  I bet you anything that when the alarm goes off, there's a sinister red light in that eye slit, running back and forth.  It looks like a cross between Darth Vader and the Iron Chicken.

I'd never sleep again, with that mere inches from my head all night long.

It comes in several colour variations.

Flesh pink, to match the colour of your vulnerable, sleeping body as it bides its time and waits. 

Or bright red, the colour of blood.  BLOOD.

Brrr.








*I often wonder this.  I have a whole contingency plan ready for when that day comes. 

Horsing around

Where have I been? What have I been doing to keep me away from my blog? Was it something truly magnificent and thrilling to justify so long an absence?

In short, no. I was in London on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and as I tend to get home late, cram dinner down and lie exhausted on the sofa, watching undemanding TV till bedtime, I tend not to blog on the days I'm in town.

Thursday was an extra specially late night home, as we had our work Christmas lunch. We went to the Thai restaurant just off Trafalgar Square, in Norway House (I think) and had a damn fine meal. Very traditional, Thai food. Heh. I shared the vegetarian menu with my vegan colleague, and it was lovely.

Afterwards we went to the Ship and Shovel and did a quiz, mostly about work, which meant I was able to add very little in terms of real value, but I did draw beautiful stars all over the answer sheet, which hopefully earned us some credit.

All this excitement meant I caught a later train than usual, and joy of joys, it was pretty empty as it left Waterloo. Yay. Loads of spare seats, lots of leg room.

But no...wait...what's this? We stop at Clapham and hordes of small children pile aboard. Arse!

There were at least 400 of them in my carriage. They made enough noise for that many anyway. The responsible adults with them sat down at one end of the carriage, and the children, little girls aged from about 5 to 12 dispersed themselves all over the place. They started off well enough, but within 15 minutes were shrieking, whispering loudly and having a fake hair-pulling fight. The air was rapidly filled with high-pitched machine-gun giggling, loud weeping and fragments of snacks*.

Marvellous. I turned up my iPod and tried to pretend I was on a beach somewhere.

Arrived at my station at about 8pm-ish, and took great delight in getting off the train first so I could flee the car park before all the small children did (yes, they got off at my stop).

Overheard one of the responsible adults say to one of the shrieking moppets, who was carrying a huge toy pony/zebra thing under her arm, "Oh, we'll have to phone daddy and tell him we're bringing home another pony!" I'd like to think they were talking about toys, but I think not.

Went straight from there to a party in the village, which was lovely, but I was so tired I only stayed for an hour or so. What a lightweight. Mind you, getting up at 6am three days in a row is knackering. I am still walking at least one of the journeys between Waterloo and Victoria each day, which is a good 30 minute walk. So being a bit tired is to be expected.

We have been preparing a variety of meat-related foodstuffs for the meatfest tonight. But to ensure all the food groups are represented, I have made a chocolate cake for pudding.

Other news: Looks like father in law WithaY will be moving into the care home in the next village before Christmas, which is marvellous news. Will save us a huge amount of driving, to start with.

We've put our Christmas lights up in the front garden and so far West Wiltshire still has electricity, so that's encouraging.

I'm off work now till January the 5th. The longest break I've had from work (not counting 3 weeks when I had bronchitis) since last Christmas. And lord, I feel like I need it.




*Seemed to be fig roll biscuits from where I was sitting. Nice and sticky on the table tops.

I got the power

Well, I have now, anyway.

Picture the scene....Last night, Mr WithaY and I settled ourselves down on the comfy sofas after eating a large curry (home made, and delicious). We'd put the Christmas tree up, and were admiring the twinkling lights, and all the little decorations we always forget we have, and we were starting to feel a bit more festive than we have of late.

I made poor Mr WithaY sit through Will Ferrell in "Elf" as we put the tree up, which was on tv. It was mildly entertaining, and helped with the increase in festive feeling.

So, peace and harmony reigned. Aaah lovely. We were chilling out and planning an early night.

And then, with no warning, all the lights went out.

My first thought was that our twinkly Christmas tree lights had blown a fuse somewhere, but when we looked out of the window, the whole street was in darkness. The pub, the garage, the neighbours. Dark, dark, dark.

Hurrah!

'Tis the season to be subject to prolonged and annoying power cuts once again!

Now I feel Christmassy!

We got power back by about 10pm, when a nice man from the power company came round to make sure all was working once more. In the meantime, to amuse myself while we sat in the rather romantic candlelit sitting room, I played my acoustic guitar. I enjoyed myself, anyway.

Anyhoo, it meant we got to bed a lot later than we'd planned, so I changed my working in London days, and will go in on Wednesday, and am working at home today instead.

Other news: The flood in next door's meadow receded as quickly as it appeared, thankfully. Gave me quite a scare though, seeing the river come up so fast.

We went to see father in law WithaY on Sunday and he is looking much better, and is actually quite positive about things. The hospital staff down there have been brilliant; it looks like he might be getting a place in a nursing home in the next village down from us, five minutes away. Which would be excellent.

He asked us to clear out his freezer. So we did. Oh. My. Word. The things we found in there!

Eels! Pigs trotters! Unidentified jellified brown stuff in margerine tubs!

It was a real voyage of discovery. We filled a couple of black bin bags with stuff to throw out, and the rest is now in our freezer. In fact, we are planning a meatfest dinner party next weekend to help diminish the WithaY meat mountain.

Which will be nice.