Grumbling

Hm, it seems that Blogger is eating comments.  This has happened in the past - I've had an email notification on my iPhone saying there is a comment waiting to be moderated, and then when I login to Blogger on the PC there isn't one there.  Very odd. 

I can even see who it's from and what it said via the email, so it's doubly annoying not to be able to add it to the blog.

So, based on my imperfect memory of the comment, here's my reply:  Mr London Street - you are quite right, it was a shit remake.

Other news:  Mr WithaY and I are both still poorly.  I have been signed off work for another week, as I am still coughing like a bastard, although I am slowly recovering.  I keep thinking I am ok, so try to do something mildly domestic like ironing, or cooking lunch, whereupon I cough till I almost pass out.  It's all very tiresome and unpleasant.

The weather over the weekend was depressing, cold and wet, adding to the general air of malaise and gloom in the WithaY household.  What with that and the carefully-planted beans looking as if they are all dying, it's been a bit sad.

Mr WithaY has been cheering himself up this afternoon by researching Kentucky long rifles online, and I have been looking at guitar websites.  Part of me is thinking I ought to sell my Rickenbacker as I seldom play it, but the part I am listening to says "No!  You'll never find another one!"

One of the many things I hate about having a chest infection is that I can't sing.  At all.  Hell, I can barely speak.  And that means that my enthusiasm for playing my guitar drops away to almost zero, and my fingers soften up and then I get cross when I do try to play because it hurts so much.  Gah.

Well, now that I've spread a little sunshine, I will go and make supper.

Sparky

Every year, about this time, I start looking contemplatively at the books in the big bookcase in our sitting room. 

How many of them will I read again?  Can I bear to part with those that I won't?  Where could they all go, other than in here?  Could any of my friends be trusted with them if they wanted to borrow any of them*?

Mostly on a day like today, though, I think "How quickly could I get most of those books upstairs and away from any floodwaters as they engulf the house?"  Obviously, the books get saved after the guitars are all stashed away in comfort.  Oh, and the amp. 

It's been like the End of the World today.  High winds and lashing rain, dark at 4pm (well, nearly), the whole house shaking as cold gusts force themselves down the chimney and up our trouser legs.  Brrrr.

I went into the kitchen earlier on, and looked out into the blackness of the back garden.  There was a brilliant white flash, and I thought perhaps Wiltshire's finest** had stuck a portable speed camera on the main road that I was seeing through the trees. 

I kept watching, and sure enough, a few moments later there was another flash.  And a cloud of smoke, or possibly steam, and a huge shower of white sparks.  Not from the main road, either.   At first I thought it was a firework.

"What on Earth are next door doing with fireworks in this weather?" I thought.  It was, after all, pissing with rain and blowing a gale.

I was mistaken.

The flashes and sparks were coming from the power lines stretching across to the wooden pole in next door's back garden.

I assume that a tree branch was smacking into the lines as the wind blew, making it short out.  That, or a line had broken and was snaking about wildly, shorting out on the ground.  The sodden, saturated, ground.

It's too dark to see from the house, and I am buggered if I am going out to take a closer look.  The weather out there is bad enough, but the possibility of being slammed full of a billion trillion volts of electricity is even less appealing.

I'll have a look tomorrow.  From a safe distance.





*Answer:  None.  I don't lend books.  Not after losing my entire collection of Leonard Cohen novels to a friend when I was at school.  It still rankles.

**Ha

Kneady

This week has been odd.

Monday I went up to London to the office, and that was fine, no problem. Saw the counsellor at lunchtime, which was helpful. The journeys to and from were fine, no major drama or incident, thankfully. I walked both ways to and from Waterloo, which felt like an achievement, and the weather was reasonable.

Fucking tourists though. Bastards. Why do they walk in long strung-out groups, all holding hands and blocking the pavement? It's like being a fish in the middle of a fleet of ring-netting fishermen.

On Tuesday morning I decided to work at home, as I wanted to make some important non-work-related calls that I didn't want the rest of the office overhearing. By lunchtime I had decided to cancel attempting to get any work done, and simply take the day as leave, then decided to take Wednesday as well, as there were a lot of things relating to the recent shitstorm from Hades to try and sort out.

Work, fortunately, have been, and continue to be, brilliantly supportive and understanding.

I think as a result of having to make all the phone calls, I had a bit of a delayed shock reaction, involving tears and vomiting (nice!) but thankfully once that passed I felt better.

Anyhoo, I decided to take the rest of the week off work, and try and get Hades shitstorm stuff sorted. Which I did, to some extent.

The cleaning team came back on Friday, and the house is starting to look really nice. I even did some more of the ironing, which felt like much less of a chore as the rest of the cleaning was already done.

Yesterday we spent a large chunk of the morning in the garden, before the heavens opened. Mr WithaY cut the front hedge, which looks much tidier now, and even managed to mow the lawns without lopping any appendages off. I pulled up an entire wheelie bin full of weeds from the front flower bed, which was hugely satisfying.

Mr WithaY also cut down the spiky bastard bush by the dog/log shed in the back garden, making the whole place look and feel much bigger. I want to plant some climbing roses somewhere in that area, but will have a think about how the place will look first. I don't want to rush into anything and then realise it was the wrong decision.

It's a shame the weather is so shite again today, I wanted to cut the back hedge too, but it's too wet and windy right now.

Might go and make some bread, I feel the need to knead.

Short

Back home after a couple of days visiting my lovely Mum. Middle Sis popped down too so today all three of us and Mum went out for lunch together. I can't remember the last time it was just us without hordes of small children stampeding through the place as well.

It was lovely, and just what I needed after a particularly shit time just lately.

The drive home through Wrath of God thunder and torrential rain was interesting.

Anyhoo.

Music news: A lovely Internet mate recommended I listen to Chris and Thomas . I did, and have fallen hopelessly in love with their music.

I urge you to do the same.

Gutter press

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

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

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

Total devastation.

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

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

"Nice walk dear?"

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

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

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

Fuckwits.

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

Heh.

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