I'm writing this from my sickbed, for a nice change. Mr WithaY has emigrated into the spare room so he can have his very own sickbed. In fact, in a bizarre one-upmanship stunt, he was actually sick a little while ago, while I am merely laid low with a blinding headache, intermittent chills and an increasing amount of snot.
It's lovely at our house. I can feel your envy from here. Or is that just another temperature spike?
I was feeling a bit weird earlier in the week, but put it down to tiredness and intellectual burnout, as I had been dealing with huge terrifying spreadsheets for days.
As an aside, how did I end up doing scary finance, exactly? I have, more than once, mentioned my maths blind spot on this blog. If the whole country crashes deeper into the depths of depression, possibly exploding in a huge fireball of even more debt, I have a nagging fear it might be all my fault. Those pesky spreadsheets.
Anyway. Whining about ailments aside, it's been an action-packed week so far.
Monday went like this. I have abbreviated it for you, so as to spare you the unrelenting tedium that is my average working day.
Oh fuck no is that the time drive drive drive train train train train bus work work work spreadsheets work complicated formulae work work meetings work lunch from M&S work work TUBE gah! train lovely Middle Sis's house for dinner.
They're doing something complicated to the escalators at Victoria station. Apparently we should "avoid the station between 4pm and 8pm" i.e. throughout the entire evening commute. Yeah right. There's a one way system in place for the weary travellers. You have to join the end of a massive snake of people, through the booking hall, across past the barriers, up the stairs, through the main overground part of the station, down some other stairs, back past the barriers but on the other side, then finally through the ticket barriers and down to the underground platforms. It took about 15 minutes, all told.
I'm jolly glad I don't have to endure that every day.
I was going to brag about the pie I made for dinner, but since Mr WithaY was sick I've rather lost heart.
I hope we both feel better tomorrow.
Showing posts with label pie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pie. Show all posts
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Sunday, 14 June 2009
En vacances
Today I am mostly going on holiday. Back next week, hopefully full of delicious French food* and artfully bronzed**.
In the meantime, here's a picture of a giant pie, as promised.
*fatter
**bright red and flaky
In the meantime, here's a picture of a giant pie, as promised.
*fatter
**bright red and flaky
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.
Friday, 11 July 2008
Something for the weekend
Aaah, Friday. Praise be. There were times this week when I thought I'd never see the end of it, but here we are.
Today has actually been rather good. Drove to work in horrific monsoon-stylee* weather for our big team planning session. One of the team, in a fit of enthusiasm had said he'd bring in cakes**.
He brought cakes, in a variety of flavours, doughnuts, cookies, and a large bunch of bananas.
Also sausage rolls and chicken pies.
Not quite sure why he thought we needed so much delicious baked food at 9.30 in the morning, but I didn't hear anyone complaining about it.
We ate our way through the mountain of comestibles and did our planning, and it was actually rather good. I suggested to the team that we stop at lunchtime to go to the pub. They liked this idea, which evolved into a "why don't we just work through till we finish this, then go to the pub and have an early finish?" Which we did.
I think that we have all put in enough additional hours over the last few weeks to merit an early end to the week on a pissy wet Friday afternoon.
If anyone wants to complain about it, by all means*** email me.
Drove home in yet more pissing rain, skilfully avoiding the massive tailback on the A303 at Stonehenge. Managed to get stuck behind a car of terrified Japanese tourists as I traversed Salisbury Plain. I knew it was a car full of tourists because it was brand new and driving painfully slowly along the white line in the middle of the road.
I think when foreign tourists see a 40 sign, they think it means kilometers per hour, not miles per hour. Anyway, this lot were doing about 25 mph and creating a huge grumpy tailback behind them.
I overtook at a safe bit of road, causing them to panic unnecessarily and swerve into (and then back out of) a tank crossing (not my fault, they were just crap at driving). When I looked in my rear view mirror I saw that the car was full of Japanese people, all scared witless. The driver looked like someone trying to pilot a light aircraft to a jungle airstrip in a hurricane, all white knuckles and huge eyes.
I expect they were heading to Bath, 30 miles away. Good luck with that, then. They're probably still negotiating the one-way system as I type this, six hours later.
My lovely guitar teacher turned up at 6 and we had a great lesson. My rendition of the Police's "Can't Stand Losing You" is almost passable now. Yay me.
Just as he was leaving, Bro-in-Law WithaY arrived, and we amused ourselves for the next hour or so by eating cupcakes and putting the world to rights. Mr WithaY then arrived home, having driven all the way back from Richmond in Yorksire in the rain. Poor bugger.
Plans for the weekend include visiting father-in-law WithaY in hospital tomorrow and then possibly going to the pictures to see Hancock, if we can be arsed. And sleeping. And maybe making some more cupcakes.
I will probably also spend at least some of the weekend staring out at the rain, grumbling.
I am in the mood to buy some stuff from Amazon. I have no money, but that seldom stops me. I fancy a few new cds and at least one book.
Heard Steve Wright in the afternoon talking about a book which supposedly allows you to analyse a person's personality by their stuff.
Hmm, let me think about this theory.
If you came to my house and it was full of, say, railway memorabilia, you would draw some conclusions. Perhaps that I was interested in railways? Had always dreamed of being a train driver? Lived on my own and quite possibly had a railwayman's uniform up in my bedroom?
Likewise, if I came to your house and it was full of soft toys and pictures of unicorns, I would draw conclusions about you. Perhaps that you didn't get out much? Read too many sci-fantasy novels? Had issues around forming adult relationships?
I should write a book.
*The climate, not the chain store...it wasn't weather dressed in over-priced floppy dresses and teeny colourful cardigans.
**To help us think.
***And I will ignore you, you whinging bastards.
Today has actually been rather good. Drove to work in horrific monsoon-stylee* weather for our big team planning session. One of the team, in a fit of enthusiasm had said he'd bring in cakes**.
He brought cakes, in a variety of flavours, doughnuts, cookies, and a large bunch of bananas.
Also sausage rolls and chicken pies.
Not quite sure why he thought we needed so much delicious baked food at 9.30 in the morning, but I didn't hear anyone complaining about it.
We ate our way through the mountain of comestibles and did our planning, and it was actually rather good. I suggested to the team that we stop at lunchtime to go to the pub. They liked this idea, which evolved into a "why don't we just work through till we finish this, then go to the pub and have an early finish?" Which we did.
I think that we have all put in enough additional hours over the last few weeks to merit an early end to the week on a pissy wet Friday afternoon.
If anyone wants to complain about it, by all means*** email me.
Drove home in yet more pissing rain, skilfully avoiding the massive tailback on the A303 at Stonehenge. Managed to get stuck behind a car of terrified Japanese tourists as I traversed Salisbury Plain. I knew it was a car full of tourists because it was brand new and driving painfully slowly along the white line in the middle of the road.
I think when foreign tourists see a 40 sign, they think it means kilometers per hour, not miles per hour. Anyway, this lot were doing about 25 mph and creating a huge grumpy tailback behind them.
I overtook at a safe bit of road, causing them to panic unnecessarily and swerve into (and then back out of) a tank crossing (not my fault, they were just crap at driving). When I looked in my rear view mirror I saw that the car was full of Japanese people, all scared witless. The driver looked like someone trying to pilot a light aircraft to a jungle airstrip in a hurricane, all white knuckles and huge eyes.
I expect they were heading to Bath, 30 miles away. Good luck with that, then. They're probably still negotiating the one-way system as I type this, six hours later.
My lovely guitar teacher turned up at 6 and we had a great lesson. My rendition of the Police's "Can't Stand Losing You" is almost passable now. Yay me.
Just as he was leaving, Bro-in-Law WithaY arrived, and we amused ourselves for the next hour or so by eating cupcakes and putting the world to rights. Mr WithaY then arrived home, having driven all the way back from Richmond in Yorksire in the rain. Poor bugger.
Plans for the weekend include visiting father-in-law WithaY in hospital tomorrow and then possibly going to the pictures to see Hancock, if we can be arsed. And sleeping. And maybe making some more cupcakes.
I will probably also spend at least some of the weekend staring out at the rain, grumbling.
I am in the mood to buy some stuff from Amazon. I have no money, but that seldom stops me. I fancy a few new cds and at least one book.
Heard Steve Wright in the afternoon talking about a book which supposedly allows you to analyse a person's personality by their stuff.
Hmm, let me think about this theory.
If you came to my house and it was full of, say, railway memorabilia, you would draw some conclusions. Perhaps that I was interested in railways? Had always dreamed of being a train driver? Lived on my own and quite possibly had a railwayman's uniform up in my bedroom?
Likewise, if I came to your house and it was full of soft toys and pictures of unicorns, I would draw conclusions about you. Perhaps that you didn't get out much? Read too many sci-fantasy novels? Had issues around forming adult relationships?
I should write a book.
*The climate, not the chain store...it wasn't weather dressed in over-priced floppy dresses and teeny colourful cardigans.
**To help us think.
***And I will ignore you, you whinging bastards.
Friday, 28 December 2007
Specs before marriage
I was at the opticians again yesterday, having my eyes tested. While I was waiting for my appointment, I couldn't help but overhear the antics of a trio of elderly people behind me. I think it was a married couple and a female friend or relative.
The two ladies were examining the racks of glasses, one of them trying on pair after pair and dismissing them for a variety of increasingly interesting reasons.
The chap was sat watching them, adding his own comments like a grumpy Greek chorus, quietly enough that they couldn't hear him.
But I could. As an example:
Old lady #1: (waving huge specs about) What about these? Nice and big.
Old lady #2: Ooh no....they'll be much too heavy for my nose.
Old lady #1: Not if you have plastic glass in them. Nice and light then. (Getting bored with being in the opticians, waving them under her friend's nose) Try them on, go on.
Old lady #2: (Trying them on) No, they don't look right. I know what suits me.
Old Man: (Under his breath) You bloody don't.
I was kept entertained.
And the good news is my eyes have not got any worse, so my prescription stays the same. So I can keep using my disposable contact lenses when I can be arsed. I ordered a new pair of specs anyway, though. I have got tremendously bored with my current ones.
I popped into a shoe shop on a whim and bought a pair of boots in the sale, which I was pleased with. Reduced from 45 quid to 35, so felt like I got a good deal. (About a billion trillion dollars, American readers).
When asked by a reprobate neighbour later if they were Fuck Me Boots I had to answer that no, they are actually Get Out Of My Fucking Way Boots. Sad but true.
At least they don't have steel toecaps. And they aren't from Mole Valley Farmers.
Other news: Made a fanTAStic chicken and bacon pie for lunch today. The kitchen is back to normal, rather than resembling a Medieval banquet.
It still smells of hyacinths in there because the basket of bulbs I bought has thrived and all the flowers are out now. They are a bit warped and twisted because they got confused about which direction to point. I assume. They might just be hideous mutant hyacinths.
I was hoping there'd be a great film on tv this afternoon so I could flop on the sofa in my new slippers (thanks to my lovely Mum) and veg out. Sadly the tv schedules have been utter shite, so I will probably do other stuff.
No Dinotopia! What were they thinking??
I got Mr WithaY the complete Father Ted collection on DVD and we watched some of the first series last night. It really was a superbly written show.
Off out to a party later. I shall have a bath in a bit with some of my lovely new Neals Yard smellies and see if anyone sniffs me appreciatively when I get there.
The two ladies were examining the racks of glasses, one of them trying on pair after pair and dismissing them for a variety of increasingly interesting reasons.
The chap was sat watching them, adding his own comments like a grumpy Greek chorus, quietly enough that they couldn't hear him.
But I could. As an example:
Old lady #1: (waving huge specs about) What about these? Nice and big.
Old lady #2: Ooh no....they'll be much too heavy for my nose.
Old lady #1: Not if you have plastic glass in them. Nice and light then. (Getting bored with being in the opticians, waving them under her friend's nose) Try them on, go on.
Old lady #2: (Trying them on) No, they don't look right. I know what suits me.
Old Man: (Under his breath) You bloody don't.
I was kept entertained.
And the good news is my eyes have not got any worse, so my prescription stays the same. So I can keep using my disposable contact lenses when I can be arsed. I ordered a new pair of specs anyway, though. I have got tremendously bored with my current ones.
I popped into a shoe shop on a whim and bought a pair of boots in the sale, which I was pleased with. Reduced from 45 quid to 35, so felt like I got a good deal. (About a billion trillion dollars, American readers).
When asked by a reprobate neighbour later if they were Fuck Me Boots I had to answer that no, they are actually Get Out Of My Fucking Way Boots. Sad but true.
At least they don't have steel toecaps. And they aren't from Mole Valley Farmers.
Other news: Made a fanTAStic chicken and bacon pie for lunch today. The kitchen is back to normal, rather than resembling a Medieval banquet.
It still smells of hyacinths in there because the basket of bulbs I bought has thrived and all the flowers are out now. They are a bit warped and twisted because they got confused about which direction to point. I assume. They might just be hideous mutant hyacinths.
I was hoping there'd be a great film on tv this afternoon so I could flop on the sofa in my new slippers (thanks to my lovely Mum) and veg out. Sadly the tv schedules have been utter shite, so I will probably do other stuff.
No Dinotopia! What were they thinking??
I got Mr WithaY the complete Father Ted collection on DVD and we watched some of the first series last night. It really was a superbly written show.
Off out to a party later. I shall have a bath in a bit with some of my lovely new Neals Yard smellies and see if anyone sniffs me appreciatively when I get there.
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