New Years Eve tomorrow, so I won’t get the chance to blog again until next week. We’re hosting our normal family and friends gathering, which I’m looking forward to. I’ve not seen much of Trace this Christmas. We traditionally spend Christmas Eve together with the aid of a take-away meal. It didn’t happen this year, she had a chest infection and although she invited me over, I declined.
She’d been working hard in her new job and was basically worn out. Christmas Day would be busy as she had to work during the morning, so it just didn’t seem fair. I popped over for ten minutes to exchange presents, and although I missed it, I know we’ll make up for it next year. That’s what friendship is all about.
We’ve rang each other during the week, but it will be nice to spend some time together. It will be pretty much open house here, the kids, their friends, our friends and a few of the neighbours. I am not going to go mad tomorrow with the cooking – well, I say that now – somewhere between now and then, I’ve have a panic attack and turn into the village’s equivalent of Delia Smith. It’s guaranteed.
I always have a problem when entertaining – I don’t know when to stop. I put so much effort into making sure that everyone has a good time – I forget about myself. Which is where Tracy comes in – she waves alcohol and munchies at me. A couple of glasses later and I start to think, bugger them, it’s my New Year as well – they can help themselves.
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Looking back over the past year, as one is expected to do – must keep with tradition, I’ve decided that I’ve had a really good year. Finished college and gained a recognisable business qualification – which if I wanted to, would enable me to move to a better paid job. I won’t of course, like most people that work for our company; it’s not about the money.
Yes, it’s had its ups and downs, but that’s quite normal too. It’s amazing how you can cope with what life throws at you and in all honesty, you don’t have to look too far to find someone that’s had it worse than you. If I turned the clock back twelve months and someone had told me at the time that I’d have started to write stories and produced my own website, that I’d make new friends, people that are prepared to accept me for who I am - I’d have probably laughed and disagreed with them. It still surprises me now that I’ve actually done it, but what surprises me more – is how I feel about the genre. As a reader, I’d look at anything – didn’t put a lot of though behind it, but as a writer I’ve started to see things differently. Talking to people and listening to their points of view have opened my eyes and most certainly made me question how I view things. I’m sure my writing will change over time, I can see a slight difference already – but hopefully my sense of humour will continue throughout, that will always be important to me. That sense of humour has seen me through many traumatic events over the years, it’s very much part of my coping mechanism and unless you know me personally and some of the things I have to deal with, I very much doubt you’d ever understand it.
The next part of James and Jay will be with Scally next week and I’ve brought it back round to my original idea, which will probably surprise a few people in the end. Cobweb, Gnome and Sulya, in a roundabout sort of way have given me a new idea and I’m enjoying myself developing it – humour playing an important part.
It’s dawned on me during the last couple of weeks, that I don’t need to fit into anyone elses idea of the genre – it’s my world and the control over it is also mine. Its taken time for me to reach that point and several helping hands along the way. People that I’ve learnt to trust because they’ve been there for me, been very honesty with me, challenged me, joked with me, made me laugh and on a couple of occasions, even made me cry. They have earned my respect and I’m honour that they trust me enough to welcome me into their lives.
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions – what’s the point, I’d only break them, but the closest I’ll get to it is my determination to carry on developing my writing, my spelling and my punctuation; for they all play an important part in what I hope to achieve, goals that I’ve set myself for 2007.
On that note, it's time for me to finish my last blog for 2006 – once again I'll take the opportunity to wish you all a very Happy New Year. Hope you have a good time.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
I’ve just come back from a walk around the village – Himself dragged me into the pub for a warming drink. OK, maybe dragged isn’t quite the right word – it’s blowing a gale here at the moment and I may have offered a little encouragement in the matter.
I was on the look out for an interested photo and something I’d seen earlier in the day had caught my eye – it didn’t turn out as I’d hoped, so I can show you. It looks like a lot of glow worms have overdosed on the sherry. Very disappointing - not how I'd imagine it would turn out.
A certain group of people are having a little Christmas competition – I’ll mention no names, if you know me it won’t take a master mind to work out who they are.
One has stated it’s boring – and declined to take part. Yes, yes, we all know the real reason why – but I’m humouring her, Mrs Scourge that she is. And I did spell that correctly, it was a play on words. It’s amazing how safe you feel to say these sorts of things when she’s not around. She doesn’t read blogs, can’t see the point of them. I can and don’t I have some fun.
Another person went for the whinging sympathy vote – it’s a new camera, and she doesn’t know how to use all the buttons. Yes, you’re quite correct – got her absolutely no where. The cheating little madam is always trying it on – no way were we falling for that one, we know her too well.
And last but not least, after speaking to the third person today, he quite smugly told me he’d already got his picture sorted. I soon put him straight. What happen to the other three pictures that are required? Two for the artistic category and two for the funny category. Didn’t he want to win? He’s probably the most competitive out of the lot of us.
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In fact, I’m amazed at how competitive I’ve become – I never used to be. It must be something to do with the people I’m now mixing with – bad influence. I particularly noticed it over the Christmas period when I was playing scrabble with the friend and her son that I mentioned in my pervious blog. I won the first two games. Since I’ve been writing my spelling has improved – yes, it has. During the third game I couldn’t help but notice that their ability to add the scores up had deteriorated. But strangely enough – it only happened during my go. It didn’t seem to affect their scores. I had that funny feeling you get when you’re not quite sure it‘s happening. If we’d been messing about I wouldn’t have though anything of it – but we weren’t. In fact they were really serious, very serious in fact. I was amused by it to start with – they’re 51 and 29, I thought it was funny. When I pointed it out – they insisted it was a mistake. In fact they got quite shirty. Everything was OK for the next couple of rounds and then it started again. This time I let it go – if it meant that much to them, so be it. Or at least I thought so until the end of the game and they made the point of saying that the winning score was much better than the two previous games.
Now, I’m not against cheating. In fact I’ll go one step more and openly admit that I’m not above it. The difference being that everyone is aware of it – it’s just a bit of fun. After spending two days looking after this pair and I do mean looking after, they wanted for nothing - I hadn't expected them to behave like that. All I needed was a hearth to sit by and some cinders, I’d have been well at home.
I was a little put out. Now my manager has a saying – don’t get mad, get even. So I suggested we did our own scoring on the last game and beat the pair of them fair and square by over 100 points. OK, at the end I may have uttered a few childish words – something like: I’m the winner, I’m the winner. Losers. Losers.
Sometimes you have to let people know, that no matter how nice you are – you’re not going to be walked over.
I was on the look out for an interested photo and something I’d seen earlier in the day had caught my eye – it didn’t turn out as I’d hoped, so I can show you. It looks like a lot of glow worms have overdosed on the sherry. Very disappointing - not how I'd imagine it would turn out.
A certain group of people are having a little Christmas competition – I’ll mention no names, if you know me it won’t take a master mind to work out who they are.
One has stated it’s boring – and declined to take part. Yes, yes, we all know the real reason why – but I’m humouring her, Mrs Scourge that she is. And I did spell that correctly, it was a play on words. It’s amazing how safe you feel to say these sorts of things when she’s not around. She doesn’t read blogs, can’t see the point of them. I can and don’t I have some fun.
Another person went for the whinging sympathy vote – it’s a new camera, and she doesn’t know how to use all the buttons. Yes, you’re quite correct – got her absolutely no where. The cheating little madam is always trying it on – no way were we falling for that one, we know her too well.
And last but not least, after speaking to the third person today, he quite smugly told me he’d already got his picture sorted. I soon put him straight. What happen to the other three pictures that are required? Two for the artistic category and two for the funny category. Didn’t he want to win? He’s probably the most competitive out of the lot of us.
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In fact, I’m amazed at how competitive I’ve become – I never used to be. It must be something to do with the people I’m now mixing with – bad influence. I particularly noticed it over the Christmas period when I was playing scrabble with the friend and her son that I mentioned in my pervious blog. I won the first two games. Since I’ve been writing my spelling has improved – yes, it has. During the third game I couldn’t help but notice that their ability to add the scores up had deteriorated. But strangely enough – it only happened during my go. It didn’t seem to affect their scores. I had that funny feeling you get when you’re not quite sure it‘s happening. If we’d been messing about I wouldn’t have though anything of it – but we weren’t. In fact they were really serious, very serious in fact. I was amused by it to start with – they’re 51 and 29, I thought it was funny. When I pointed it out – they insisted it was a mistake. In fact they got quite shirty. Everything was OK for the next couple of rounds and then it started again. This time I let it go – if it meant that much to them, so be it. Or at least I thought so until the end of the game and they made the point of saying that the winning score was much better than the two previous games.
Now, I’m not against cheating. In fact I’ll go one step more and openly admit that I’m not above it. The difference being that everyone is aware of it – it’s just a bit of fun. After spending two days looking after this pair and I do mean looking after, they wanted for nothing - I hadn't expected them to behave like that. All I needed was a hearth to sit by and some cinders, I’d have been well at home.
I was a little put out. Now my manager has a saying – don’t get mad, get even. So I suggested we did our own scoring on the last game and beat the pair of them fair and square by over 100 points. OK, at the end I may have uttered a few childish words – something like: I’m the winner, I’m the winner. Losers. Losers.
Sometimes you have to let people know, that no matter how nice you are – you’re not going to be walked over.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
I’m bored – I thought I’d have a mooch around my favourite sites, but only Cobweb & Gnome have updated and although I enjoy their stories a great deal – I’ve read them three times already. Yes, I know it’s Christmas – everything grinds to a halt. Unfortunately I’m not the grind to a halt kind, hence the revamped web site – which someone must be looking at, at the moment because my ears are burning.
Quite an enjoyable Christmas l suppose – normal sort of thing. We had visitors staying for a couple of days and I became the hostess with the mostest. Which roughly translates to me working my Christmas socks off – and don’t say pull the other one it’s got bells on, because both socks have bells on. See what happens when I'm bored - I'm now taking pictures of socks.
Thank you, Tracy, you never cease to surprise me. What with those and the George Clooney belly bar, I was truly astound. Yes, another Christmas tradition – we have to get each other a tacky present to go with the main one. Not that George Clooney is at all tacky. She out did me this year, my heart wasn’t in it, she got Marks & Spencers chocolate covered brandy snaps instead – which she likes, OK.
I think that come next year – I’m going to insist on spending Christmas with just family. It’s lovely having friends stop, but incredibly hard work – help wasn’t very forthcoming. In fact I got the ‘I know how you like the kitchen to yourself when you’re cooking’ speech. Himself did offer to help with the veggies, but to be honest he’s that slow we’d have been eating our Christmas dinner on Boxing Day.
I was slightly put out I’ll admit it – they were sat watching the telly, drinking one of my Christmas presents and doing sudok puzzles whilst I was preparing everyone’s feast. Yes, OK, I’m a sucker – I should have said something, but I was feeling guilty for actually having evil thoughts in the first place. The thoughts in question distinctly lacking in Christmas spirit – any sort of spirit in fact, including the alcohol kind, which they’d already polished off when I did get five minutes to sit down. Yes, I'm sure it was a very nice Chardonnary, totally wasted on someone who complained that it wasn't particularly sweet! See, evil thoughts.
I had brought several bottles of wine to drink with the dinner and the friend in question had also brought three bottles with her – it’s just that hers were Tesco’s Hock, at £1.98 a bottle and my taste buds just couldn’t take it. I let them drink it instead and Himself sneaked me a glass of Pinot Grigio that I’d opened the day before and hidden in the back of the fridge. I’m not going to pretend to be a wine buff, I just know what I like and Tesco’s Hock isn’t on the list.
Himself is off to London with a friend tomorrow. He’s delivering a car transporter and asked Himself along for the company. So true to form I'll worry until he's safely home. I’m planning on checking my website – just in case my fiddling has caused a few problems and then having another bash at James and Jay, which I’m having a few problems with – yet again. Yes I know – but genius doesn’t come naturally to everyone. Of course the problem being I’ve another idea in the offing – just not quite sure how it will pan out. Time will tell.
Quite an enjoyable Christmas l suppose – normal sort of thing. We had visitors staying for a couple of days and I became the hostess with the mostest. Which roughly translates to me working my Christmas socks off – and don’t say pull the other one it’s got bells on, because both socks have bells on. See what happens when I'm bored - I'm now taking pictures of socks.
Thank you, Tracy, you never cease to surprise me. What with those and the George Clooney belly bar, I was truly astound. Yes, another Christmas tradition – we have to get each other a tacky present to go with the main one. Not that George Clooney is at all tacky. She out did me this year, my heart wasn’t in it, she got Marks & Spencers chocolate covered brandy snaps instead – which she likes, OK.
I think that come next year – I’m going to insist on spending Christmas with just family. It’s lovely having friends stop, but incredibly hard work – help wasn’t very forthcoming. In fact I got the ‘I know how you like the kitchen to yourself when you’re cooking’ speech. Himself did offer to help with the veggies, but to be honest he’s that slow we’d have been eating our Christmas dinner on Boxing Day.
I was slightly put out I’ll admit it – they were sat watching the telly, drinking one of my Christmas presents and doing sudok puzzles whilst I was preparing everyone’s feast. Yes, OK, I’m a sucker – I should have said something, but I was feeling guilty for actually having evil thoughts in the first place. The thoughts in question distinctly lacking in Christmas spirit – any sort of spirit in fact, including the alcohol kind, which they’d already polished off when I did get five minutes to sit down. Yes, I'm sure it was a very nice Chardonnary, totally wasted on someone who complained that it wasn't particularly sweet! See, evil thoughts.
I had brought several bottles of wine to drink with the dinner and the friend in question had also brought three bottles with her – it’s just that hers were Tesco’s Hock, at £1.98 a bottle and my taste buds just couldn’t take it. I let them drink it instead and Himself sneaked me a glass of Pinot Grigio that I’d opened the day before and hidden in the back of the fridge. I’m not going to pretend to be a wine buff, I just know what I like and Tesco’s Hock isn’t on the list.
Himself is off to London with a friend tomorrow. He’s delivering a car transporter and asked Himself along for the company. So true to form I'll worry until he's safely home. I’m planning on checking my website – just in case my fiddling has caused a few problems and then having another bash at James and Jay, which I’m having a few problems with – yet again. Yes I know – but genius doesn’t come naturally to everyone. Of course the problem being I’ve another idea in the offing – just not quite sure how it will pan out. Time will tell.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Hooray – the end is in sight. Last day of work until 2nd January. All the staff are finishing work at 12 and that will just leave me & Sandy. We’ve got to finish off the Self Assessment & Development plans and then upload them to the LSC website. We both agreed that it was better to stay late and get it done than have to come in and work over the Christmas period. We both need the break – our health is suffering. Sandy has a cold and cystitis, I’ve got a stye and mouth ulcers – signs that we’ve both come to recognise as our bodies way of saying slow done, time for a break. It’s been a stressful week here, for many reasons, and one that I think we’re all glad is coming to a close.
Never mind, I’m planning on a fair bit of ‘me’ time over the coming week – and I’m afraid that my dad will just have to accept that I’m not going to be at his beck and call. I haven’t taken many photos lately so I’m planning on a few walks with the dogs, a visit to the Castle now it’s been altered and a couple of lie ins. I might even get the chance to do a bit of writing.
And on that note I’ll finish today, I probably won’t get the chance to blog until later next week – hopefully in a better frame of mind, with my humour back in the driving seat. I’ll take this opportunity to wish everyone a very Happy Christmas and thank you for visiting my website. Thank you also to everyone who has written to me since I’ve been writing, which seems a lot longer than 5 months, I’ve appreciated each and every message.
Never mind, I’m planning on a fair bit of ‘me’ time over the coming week – and I’m afraid that my dad will just have to accept that I’m not going to be at his beck and call. I haven’t taken many photos lately so I’m planning on a few walks with the dogs, a visit to the Castle now it’s been altered and a couple of lie ins. I might even get the chance to do a bit of writing.
And on that note I’ll finish today, I probably won’t get the chance to blog until later next week – hopefully in a better frame of mind, with my humour back in the driving seat. I’ll take this opportunity to wish everyone a very Happy Christmas and thank you for visiting my website. Thank you also to everyone who has written to me since I’ve been writing, which seems a lot longer than 5 months, I’ve appreciated each and every message.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I spent the best part of the yesterday afternoon with a girl who attends our workshop. Why is it when shite things happen, I’m the only manager available? She said she had tried to commit suicide by taking – wait for it, 10 penicillin tablets. OK, it’s not funny really and by the time I had spent an hour talking to her whilst she polished off my lunch – I was wondering if she had any left. It's not always easy working with our client group - our humour is a release, it gets us through situations that aren't always pleasant, our way of pulling together and reducing the pressure involved.
Anyway, it was a cry for help and after listening to her problems – I’m not surprised. Everyone spends this time of year preparing for Christmas – presents, shopping, food & drink. Everywhere you go advertisements picture a happy family life – you forget that there are children in this country that won’t experience that. Christmas is just another day – no presents or festive food for them. For all Social Services & Child Agencies do, they don’t pick up on everything. There are still a lot of children that never get heard.
By the end of the afternoon Simon had turned up and offered me some much needed support. He got Social Services involved. The girl's mother is in prison and her dad couldn't be arse to come out to get her; he'd had a drink and couldn't drive. As far as he was concerned she could come home herself - if she wanted to - didn't bother him either way, he wasn't forking money out on a taxi that was for sure.
I was left with a feeling of uselessness, sadness and down right bloody anger. It would be wonderful if you could wave a magic wand and put things right. Unfortunately we could only do so much. We've got procedures that we have to follow for our own sake as much as the child involved. I'd like to think she'll spend Christmas somewhere nice, with people who will welcome her, but in reality she probably end up back home. I don't think I'll ever understand human nature - how can a father treat his own child like that?
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We went food shopping last night, it wasn't that bad. I got everything I wanted and even found a game for the Gameboy that Himself could get me as a present. Pleased him no end - I would still have preferred the seville chocolates, but never mind - season of good will and all that. The only down side was paying and trying to get everything to fit into the freezers when we got home. Just the fruit and vegetables left to get on Saturday from one of the many farm shops we have around here. Then job's a good 'un.
Anyway, it was a cry for help and after listening to her problems – I’m not surprised. Everyone spends this time of year preparing for Christmas – presents, shopping, food & drink. Everywhere you go advertisements picture a happy family life – you forget that there are children in this country that won’t experience that. Christmas is just another day – no presents or festive food for them. For all Social Services & Child Agencies do, they don’t pick up on everything. There are still a lot of children that never get heard.
By the end of the afternoon Simon had turned up and offered me some much needed support. He got Social Services involved. The girl's mother is in prison and her dad couldn't be arse to come out to get her; he'd had a drink and couldn't drive. As far as he was concerned she could come home herself - if she wanted to - didn't bother him either way, he wasn't forking money out on a taxi that was for sure.
I was left with a feeling of uselessness, sadness and down right bloody anger. It would be wonderful if you could wave a magic wand and put things right. Unfortunately we could only do so much. We've got procedures that we have to follow for our own sake as much as the child involved. I'd like to think she'll spend Christmas somewhere nice, with people who will welcome her, but in reality she probably end up back home. I don't think I'll ever understand human nature - how can a father treat his own child like that?
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We went food shopping last night, it wasn't that bad. I got everything I wanted and even found a game for the Gameboy that Himself could get me as a present. Pleased him no end - I would still have preferred the seville chocolates, but never mind - season of good will and all that. The only down side was paying and trying to get everything to fit into the freezers when we got home. Just the fruit and vegetables left to get on Saturday from one of the many farm shops we have around here. Then job's a good 'un.
After that the real work starts, cleaning the house top to bottom this weekend - it's not always easy keeping a breast of it when I work full time, have a family and look after my Dad, especially now I demand that I have some 'me' time.
We've got friends staying for Christmas. Lucy and Stee are spending Christmas Day together and coming over Boxing Day. I expect them to enjoy this time together, they should have the fun of preparing thier own dinner with no demands from families. Lucy's mum and Stepdad are going over there, we could have gone too but declined. It's the last year she'll spend in her childhood home as it's being sold and the money spilt between her and her brother, now they are ready to move on into the world. She lost her Dad to cancer at the age of 7 and the house contains many memories, this Christmas will be special for both her and her mum, I very much doubt I'll be the only one to shed a few tears on Christmas Day.
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Looking out of the window at work yesterday, everything looked devoid of colour - obviously where the saying Grey Day comes from.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Himself was in a right snotty mood last night; just looking at his face would make small children cry. And the reason for his gurning – he hasn’t brought me a Christmas present yet. So we can all suffer. He keeps asking me what I want – if I knew that, I’d tell him. I’m not trying to be difficult – I honestly don’t know. He buys me things throughtout the year - I know he loves me, I'm not going to think any different if I don't get anything on Christmas Day, and why does it have to be a big present?
I suggested some of my favourite Thornton chocolates – Seville oranges. No, that wouldn’t do – I could buy them myself. Well, no actually I wouldn’t, even thought I like them, I very rarely buy myself Thornton chocolates.
He drove me nuts – it ended in one almighty argument; me going up like a bottle of pop and Himself left with a shell shocked expression on his face. I’m evil when I’m in that frame of mind – I’m not going to deny it. Funnily enough I’m at my most deadly when I go quiet - anyone who really knows me would see that as a warning sign, shame he didn't spot it. You’re quite safe when I being mouthy, wouldn’t hurt a fly.
I’m afraid I don’t do Christmas very well – and I was probably on the look out for an argument in order to cover up how I’m feeling, which in all probability Himself knew quite well. Christmas Day was always a special time that I spent with my mum. The anniversary of her Birthday and the anniversary of her death – don’t affect me. The build up to Christmas Day and it hits home big time.
My parents always came to us for Christmas dinner – Himself and my dad would pop out to the pub for an hour, leaving me and mum with the kids. Yes, we could have gone too if we had wanted, we didn't. They weren't particularly bothered themselves, we made them go.
It was a special time that we both cherished and became an integrated part of our Christmas Day. We’d drink a glass of sherry, eat a few Roses chocolates and basically just talk. A special hour spent together and one that came to mean a lot to both of us. It was part of our Christmas.
Six years on and I’m still at a total loss during that hour, I’ve tried different things over the years to get away from it – but nothing works. Funnily enough it’s the build-up to the day that gets me more than the actual day itself. I’m ultra sensitive during the week before hand – the slightest thing will set me off and it ultimately results in tears, which happen last night.
Himself felt bad that he’d upset me and I felt awful that he thought that, it wasn’t his fault really – I was looking for a reason to cry, any reason. Grief’s a funny thing – it effects people in different ways and over different periods of time. When you’ve lost someone important to you, there will always be occasions when it hits home, some little thing that triggers it. The build up to Christmas is mine.
I suggested some of my favourite Thornton chocolates – Seville oranges. No, that wouldn’t do – I could buy them myself. Well, no actually I wouldn’t, even thought I like them, I very rarely buy myself Thornton chocolates.
He drove me nuts – it ended in one almighty argument; me going up like a bottle of pop and Himself left with a shell shocked expression on his face. I’m evil when I’m in that frame of mind – I’m not going to deny it. Funnily enough I’m at my most deadly when I go quiet - anyone who really knows me would see that as a warning sign, shame he didn't spot it. You’re quite safe when I being mouthy, wouldn’t hurt a fly.
I’m afraid I don’t do Christmas very well – and I was probably on the look out for an argument in order to cover up how I’m feeling, which in all probability Himself knew quite well. Christmas Day was always a special time that I spent with my mum. The anniversary of her Birthday and the anniversary of her death – don’t affect me. The build up to Christmas Day and it hits home big time.
My parents always came to us for Christmas dinner – Himself and my dad would pop out to the pub for an hour, leaving me and mum with the kids. Yes, we could have gone too if we had wanted, we didn't. They weren't particularly bothered themselves, we made them go.
It was a special time that we both cherished and became an integrated part of our Christmas Day. We’d drink a glass of sherry, eat a few Roses chocolates and basically just talk. A special hour spent together and one that came to mean a lot to both of us. It was part of our Christmas.
Six years on and I’m still at a total loss during that hour, I’ve tried different things over the years to get away from it – but nothing works. Funnily enough it’s the build-up to the day that gets me more than the actual day itself. I’m ultra sensitive during the week before hand – the slightest thing will set me off and it ultimately results in tears, which happen last night.
Himself felt bad that he’d upset me and I felt awful that he thought that, it wasn’t his fault really – I was looking for a reason to cry, any reason. Grief’s a funny thing – it effects people in different ways and over different periods of time. When you’ve lost someone important to you, there will always be occasions when it hits home, some little thing that triggers it. The build up to Christmas is mine.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
I haven’t really been in the mood to blog just lately – the time of year I suppose. Everyone’s really busy, me included. I’m trying to build up the courage to face shopping at Tesco – which is now advertising 24 hour opening. Great – nothing on the shelves or in the freezers then.
It’s no point opening up for 24 hours if you can’t get the staff to stack, which does seem to be a major problem with Tesco. And when you get there, they’ll be nowhere to park – because everyone has used the two hours free parking to go shopping in town. If you’re very lucky you’ll be able to find a trolley – but the only couple that will be left have even more wonkier wheels than normal. After fighting your way around, past screaming kids and down trodden husbands, filling your trolley with food that will no doubt get throw away – you can spend a good half hour queuing to pay. Yes, I’m sooo looking forward to it!
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All presents have been purchased and just one or two left to wrap. I used to spend a small fortune on flowers for my mum’s grave until last year – when it suddenly hit home that she really wouldn’t have wanted that and a couple of pounds worth of daffodils would be more to her taste . So, as with last year, I’ve made a donation to the Salvation Army, specifically for the homeless, which was something she cared deeply about. Much better the money be spent giving someone a hot meal than paying for the rabbits Christmas dinner – they’ll have to eat grass instead.
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The electricians have nearly finished – thank God for that. At the moment I’m sat here without lights and with no heating – my feet are like blocks of ice. We put a big notice on the front door first thing this morning (for big read A3 size paper) instructing staff to change the sockets over on their computers. All the old ones no longer work. I’ve lost count of the amount of phone calls I’ve had saying ‘my computer isn’t working’. I’ve come very close to telling them where to put their computers - everyone has walked in through that door and no-one here has a white stick or a guide dog. And they’ve all seen the notice because as soon as you say: didn’t you read the notice telling you to change to the new sockets, you get a: Oh, yes, I saw that – do I need to do it now? Idiots!
Moan over – back to work.
It’s no point opening up for 24 hours if you can’t get the staff to stack, which does seem to be a major problem with Tesco. And when you get there, they’ll be nowhere to park – because everyone has used the two hours free parking to go shopping in town. If you’re very lucky you’ll be able to find a trolley – but the only couple that will be left have even more wonkier wheels than normal. After fighting your way around, past screaming kids and down trodden husbands, filling your trolley with food that will no doubt get throw away – you can spend a good half hour queuing to pay. Yes, I’m sooo looking forward to it!
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All presents have been purchased and just one or two left to wrap. I used to spend a small fortune on flowers for my mum’s grave until last year – when it suddenly hit home that she really wouldn’t have wanted that and a couple of pounds worth of daffodils would be more to her taste . So, as with last year, I’ve made a donation to the Salvation Army, specifically for the homeless, which was something she cared deeply about. Much better the money be spent giving someone a hot meal than paying for the rabbits Christmas dinner – they’ll have to eat grass instead.
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The electricians have nearly finished – thank God for that. At the moment I’m sat here without lights and with no heating – my feet are like blocks of ice. We put a big notice on the front door first thing this morning (for big read A3 size paper) instructing staff to change the sockets over on their computers. All the old ones no longer work. I’ve lost count of the amount of phone calls I’ve had saying ‘my computer isn’t working’. I’ve come very close to telling them where to put their computers - everyone has walked in through that door and no-one here has a white stick or a guide dog. And they’ve all seen the notice because as soon as you say: didn’t you read the notice telling you to change to the new sockets, you get a: Oh, yes, I saw that – do I need to do it now? Idiots!
Moan over – back to work.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Christmas party / celebration last night. Hang over this morning. Manager got totally rat arsed so yours truly had to look after her and borrow a jumper after she was sick everywhere. Although in all fairness I can understand it, she’s just found out her son is off to Iraq in January.
She was presented with a framed pair of pants – you’ll have to wait for the story behind it – I’ve got a headache.
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Late into work this morning – had to take the dog to the vet’s. Youngest son had taken the two spaniels onto the common for a walk yesterday and Briar got attacked by a rottweiler. He grabbed her on her side and shuck her about. The owner was no where around although son could hear someone calling. He just ran at the dog and belted it with a stick.
I didn’t find any of this out until this morning – I went out straight from work. I can’t believe that Himself didn’t take her to the vets last night – do I have to do everything? Scared the life out of me about son hitting the dog with a stick, it could have turned on him. Thank God it ran away.
Poor Briar – she’s been checked out, they don’t think there’s any internal injuries. She’s been given pain killers and antibiotics and my purse is lighter by £60.00. She’s so scared she doesn’t want to go out. I left her lying on her bed in my Dads flat – he’ll keep an eye on her. She’s not eating anything at the moment – which isn’t like her at all. She’s very stiff and sore, as you would expect. Hopefully when the pain killer kicks in she’ll feel a little more comfortable. If she’s no better tomorrow, I’m taking her back again.
She was presented with a framed pair of pants – you’ll have to wait for the story behind it – I’ve got a headache.
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Late into work this morning – had to take the dog to the vet’s. Youngest son had taken the two spaniels onto the common for a walk yesterday and Briar got attacked by a rottweiler. He grabbed her on her side and shuck her about. The owner was no where around although son could hear someone calling. He just ran at the dog and belted it with a stick.
I didn’t find any of this out until this morning – I went out straight from work. I can’t believe that Himself didn’t take her to the vets last night – do I have to do everything? Scared the life out of me about son hitting the dog with a stick, it could have turned on him. Thank God it ran away.
Poor Briar – she’s been checked out, they don’t think there’s any internal injuries. She’s been given pain killers and antibiotics and my purse is lighter by £60.00. She’s so scared she doesn’t want to go out. I left her lying on her bed in my Dads flat – he’ll keep an eye on her. She’s not eating anything at the moment – which isn’t like her at all. She’s very stiff and sore, as you would expect. Hopefully when the pain killer kicks in she’ll feel a little more comfortable. If she’s no better tomorrow, I’m taking her back again.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
I’m laying all the blame for what I'm about to tell you on the cat, if it's wasn't for her I'm sure it wouldn't have happened.
I was fast asleep in bed on Monday night, after being ill I felt zonked out and thought an earily night would do me good. It must have been about 11.30ish because Himself was still downstairs when I was woken up by a rustling noise. I’d put a load of carrier bags by the wardrobe with presents in, I haven’t got round to wrapping them all yet. I can’t stand wrapping presents, I’m OK for the first couple but quickly get board and look for excuses to do something else. At least I’ve finished shopping – I brought a couple of extra boxes of Thorntons because every year you can guarantee at least one person will give you something and you’ve forgotten them. A pre-wrapped box of chocolates comes in handy.
Anyway, the cat was exploring in the bags on the lookout, I imagine, for her present. Yes, very sad I know, but I do get the animals pressies and they do expect them. Our first spaniel was the worst, you couldn't put his present under the tree, he'd pinch it. Never touch anything else, just his own present. How he knew which was was his I don't know, it must have been the smell.
So I psssst-ed her away and turned over to go back to sleep. Ten minutes later she was back again. Grabbing one of Himself’s pillows, I waved it in her general direction, screamed 'Lucy' and she shot out of the door.
A few minutes after this Himself came upstairs to bed and decided to have a chat, by this time I was wide awake. Ten minutes later he was happily snoring for England and I of course, because I’d already had a nap, was staring at the ceiling. Do you think I could go back to sleep? I watched the clock ticking the minutes away. You know as you’re lying there that you’re going to have a hell of a game getting up in the morning, but the more you try to sleep the more illusive it becomes. I tried reading a book at about two o’clock and them it suddenly dawn on me that those fecking library books were no doubt overdue again.
I eventually must have fallen asleep at about 5.30, an hour before the alarm went off. I went through my normal morning routine and got into work about 8.45. Nothing unusual there, got on with the claim that was due, sorted out bits and pieces left over from the auditors visit, hit the roof when the server fell over again because of the electricians, which resulted in the lost of internet access for three hours. How the hell we managed before the internet is beyond me - everyone was moaning they couldn't work, why hadn't that really important e-mail arrived?
At about 11.00 I decided to have a break and stopped for 5 minutes. Stretching my legs out I glanced down at my feet. It was then I noticed I was wearing odd boots. One black, one brown. As well as being different colours & styles, they also had different sized heels, so I must have been walking around all morning with a slight limp and I’d not noticed. No one else had noticed either – and believe me if they had I would have known. They’d never had let such an ideal opportunity pass them by. So I spent the rest as the day limping around, because I really couldn’t be arsed to go home and change. I wear odd socks occasionally, so I don’t suppose that odd boots are much worse.
I was fast asleep in bed on Monday night, after being ill I felt zonked out and thought an earily night would do me good. It must have been about 11.30ish because Himself was still downstairs when I was woken up by a rustling noise. I’d put a load of carrier bags by the wardrobe with presents in, I haven’t got round to wrapping them all yet. I can’t stand wrapping presents, I’m OK for the first couple but quickly get board and look for excuses to do something else. At least I’ve finished shopping – I brought a couple of extra boxes of Thorntons because every year you can guarantee at least one person will give you something and you’ve forgotten them. A pre-wrapped box of chocolates comes in handy.
Anyway, the cat was exploring in the bags on the lookout, I imagine, for her present. Yes, very sad I know, but I do get the animals pressies and they do expect them. Our first spaniel was the worst, you couldn't put his present under the tree, he'd pinch it. Never touch anything else, just his own present. How he knew which was was his I don't know, it must have been the smell.
So I psssst-ed her away and turned over to go back to sleep. Ten minutes later she was back again. Grabbing one of Himself’s pillows, I waved it in her general direction, screamed 'Lucy' and she shot out of the door.
A few minutes after this Himself came upstairs to bed and decided to have a chat, by this time I was wide awake. Ten minutes later he was happily snoring for England and I of course, because I’d already had a nap, was staring at the ceiling. Do you think I could go back to sleep? I watched the clock ticking the minutes away. You know as you’re lying there that you’re going to have a hell of a game getting up in the morning, but the more you try to sleep the more illusive it becomes. I tried reading a book at about two o’clock and them it suddenly dawn on me that those fecking library books were no doubt overdue again.
I eventually must have fallen asleep at about 5.30, an hour before the alarm went off. I went through my normal morning routine and got into work about 8.45. Nothing unusual there, got on with the claim that was due, sorted out bits and pieces left over from the auditors visit, hit the roof when the server fell over again because of the electricians, which resulted in the lost of internet access for three hours. How the hell we managed before the internet is beyond me - everyone was moaning they couldn't work, why hadn't that really important e-mail arrived?
At about 11.00 I decided to have a break and stopped for 5 minutes. Stretching my legs out I glanced down at my feet. It was then I noticed I was wearing odd boots. One black, one brown. As well as being different colours & styles, they also had different sized heels, so I must have been walking around all morning with a slight limp and I’d not noticed. No one else had noticed either – and believe me if they had I would have known. They’d never had let such an ideal opportunity pass them by. So I spent the rest as the day limping around, because I really couldn’t be arsed to go home and change. I wear odd socks occasionally, so I don’t suppose that odd boots are much worse.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
I spent a lovely day yesterday with the LSC auditors – to be fair they were both nice ladies, but never the less, they were still auditors and had a job to do. So did I.
I’m getting exceptionally good at audit speak – I’m fantastic at tracking down information that gets us out of the quagmire, which considering I'd spent half the previous night throwing up was nothing short of a miracle. I felt and looked like death warmed up, but obviously I perform better under pressure.
I've probably passed the bug onto half the staff in the company, but then I'm a generous sort of person and as there was no one else to step into my shoes - I had little choice in the matter - I had to go in. Something else to add to the down side of being a manager.
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Sandy spent the day in London. She’d been invited to attend the Learning and Skills Council annual presentation of accounts, the reason being –and this is what we’re celebrating on Thursday night - is that we’ve been named in the Chairman’s report as one of the leading Work Based Learning training providers in the country. It won’t mean a lot to anyone who isn’t involved in training, but to us it’s equivalent of winning a gold medal at the Olympic Games.
Not bad for a company that started out life in a garage at the back of a Social Services respite centre. Money was that tight back then that we use to reuse envelopes, just to save a few pence. We had one plug in heater that got turned on occasionally just to take the chill off the air, we in the meantime turned up to work dressed for the Artic, we often worked with our coats on.
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Eldest son rang me up half way through the day, he'd been feeling dizzy for the last couple of days, could I get him into see a Doctor. Not beinging in a mummying mood, more in a 'I still feel sick, why's it so hot in here' type mood - I did suggested that he was a big boy now and if he could ring me, he could ring and make an appointment. Time to stand on his own two feet, just because doctors receptionists seem to see it as their vocation in life to make it as difficult as possible to see a doctor, doesn't mean you should be scared of them.
It didn't matter he said, he'd be OK, don't worry he'd probably feel better tomorrow. Talk about a guilt trip - he could give my dad a run for his money and believe me, he's got it off to a fine art. I gave in, got him an appointment and then oftered to drive him. No, it was OK, he'd rather drive himself now I'd made the appointment. Ever since he past his test he hates anyone else driving, it's quite funny to watch him keep going for the brake. And before anyone says anything, he does that with everyone, not just me.
Outcome - he's got vertigo, which to be fair is horrible. I suffered with it myself only last year. I’d be walking down the corridor at work and veer off into the wall – I ended up covered in bruises and got no end of comments about putting more water in it. Lying in bed at night was even worse, you felt as if the bed was moving and you were about to fall out of it. No, not very nice, so I hope the tablets work quickly.
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Today's photo is my favourite Christmas tea light - I got round to sorting some out (the rest are still in boxes). It was a gift from my friend Maggie, who brought it back from German a couple of years back. I'm amazed she got it back in one piece as it's made of glass and very delicate.
I’m getting exceptionally good at audit speak – I’m fantastic at tracking down information that gets us out of the quagmire, which considering I'd spent half the previous night throwing up was nothing short of a miracle. I felt and looked like death warmed up, but obviously I perform better under pressure.
I've probably passed the bug onto half the staff in the company, but then I'm a generous sort of person and as there was no one else to step into my shoes - I had little choice in the matter - I had to go in. Something else to add to the down side of being a manager.
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Sandy spent the day in London. She’d been invited to attend the Learning and Skills Council annual presentation of accounts, the reason being –and this is what we’re celebrating on Thursday night - is that we’ve been named in the Chairman’s report as one of the leading Work Based Learning training providers in the country. It won’t mean a lot to anyone who isn’t involved in training, but to us it’s equivalent of winning a gold medal at the Olympic Games.
Not bad for a company that started out life in a garage at the back of a Social Services respite centre. Money was that tight back then that we use to reuse envelopes, just to save a few pence. We had one plug in heater that got turned on occasionally just to take the chill off the air, we in the meantime turned up to work dressed for the Artic, we often worked with our coats on.
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Eldest son rang me up half way through the day, he'd been feeling dizzy for the last couple of days, could I get him into see a Doctor. Not beinging in a mummying mood, more in a 'I still feel sick, why's it so hot in here' type mood - I did suggested that he was a big boy now and if he could ring me, he could ring and make an appointment. Time to stand on his own two feet, just because doctors receptionists seem to see it as their vocation in life to make it as difficult as possible to see a doctor, doesn't mean you should be scared of them.
It didn't matter he said, he'd be OK, don't worry he'd probably feel better tomorrow. Talk about a guilt trip - he could give my dad a run for his money and believe me, he's got it off to a fine art. I gave in, got him an appointment and then oftered to drive him. No, it was OK, he'd rather drive himself now I'd made the appointment. Ever since he past his test he hates anyone else driving, it's quite funny to watch him keep going for the brake. And before anyone says anything, he does that with everyone, not just me.
Outcome - he's got vertigo, which to be fair is horrible. I suffered with it myself only last year. I’d be walking down the corridor at work and veer off into the wall – I ended up covered in bruises and got no end of comments about putting more water in it. Lying in bed at night was even worse, you felt as if the bed was moving and you were about to fall out of it. No, not very nice, so I hope the tablets work quickly.
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Today's photo is my favourite Christmas tea light - I got round to sorting some out (the rest are still in boxes). It was a gift from my friend Maggie, who brought it back from German a couple of years back. I'm amazed she got it back in one piece as it's made of glass and very delicate.
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The best part of yesterday evening was spent visiting tractor websites for Himself’s friend. Both of them are totally useless when it comes to computers. I distracted then long enough for Matthew to make a break for the door, but couldn’t save myself.
Which meant I spent nearly an hour and a half looking at John Deeres, Massey Fergusons, JCBs, Duetz, Fords and Case Tractors. I learnt about the tyre tread, horse power, 2 wheel drive, 4 wheel drive, hours on the clock and I now know far more that is strictly healthy about the purchasing of said item after finding myself in the company of a couple of anoraks.
I’ve always known that Himself had a bit of an interest in Tractors – he makes a beeline for them when we visit the Three Countries Show. After all, he worked on a farm when he left school, so I shouldn't have been surprised, it just hadn’t dawn on me how bad he was. I was waiting for one of them to get out a note book and start jotting down details.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I came home to the news that the A449 had claimed the lives of four teenagers late Sunday evening. Speed had played its part along with, I would imagine, inexperience. Two lads aged 18, and girls of 16 and 17.
There have been countless petitions to do something about that stretch of road – it has claimed the lives previously of at least 10 people to my knowledge between Kidderminster and the outskirts of Worcester. At the last meeting we were told that in order for money to be spent on making it safer it had to meet a criteria – which basically boiled down to the number of lives lost.
Now four families, their relations, friends, neighbours, co-workers and the emergency services – because this sort of accident effects not just the immediate family – it sends out ripples into a far reaching circle, are all paying the price. So just how many more lives have to end before something will be done.
It certainly puts things into perspective.
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I came into work on Monday morning to find I’d been replaced by a new member of staff.
My manager has a weird sense of humour – she was obviously a little put out with her screensaver. It was a very nice picture of a recovery truck, I don’t known what’s the matter with her.
There have been countless petitions to do something about that stretch of road – it has claimed the lives previously of at least 10 people to my knowledge between Kidderminster and the outskirts of Worcester. At the last meeting we were told that in order for money to be spent on making it safer it had to meet a criteria – which basically boiled down to the number of lives lost.
Now four families, their relations, friends, neighbours, co-workers and the emergency services – because this sort of accident effects not just the immediate family – it sends out ripples into a far reaching circle, are all paying the price. So just how many more lives have to end before something will be done.
It certainly puts things into perspective.
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I came into work on Monday morning to find I’d been replaced by a new member of staff.
My manager has a weird sense of humour – she was obviously a little put out with her screensaver. It was a very nice picture of a recovery truck, I don’t known what’s the matter with her.++++
And lastly today, a photo of himself's reindeer, stood waiting for Santa to finish climbing up and down his rope.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Its pitch black, the rain is coming down by the bucket load and the wind is trying it’s hardest to knock the Christmas tree over. It’s just the sort of morning that makes you want to ring into work and tell them you’re ill, not that I ever would of course.
I’m in for an interesting week at work and I wouldn't want to miss it – we’ve an LSC audit due tomorrow, the electricians are about to start running the wiring around now they’ve completed the trunking. Of course the server won’t like being turned on and off countless times and will throw a right Freddie - which in turn will ensure that every computer in the place throws a tantrum, so resulting in everyone hot footing it to my door to complain. I worked in a customer service department once, it's a thankless job - you're paid to sit there and let everyone moan at you while remaining very polite. They can't get you for thinking it through.
We’ve our Christmas party/celebration on Thursday night, can’t tell you why we’re celebrating until after it’s been announced officially on Wednesday. Big secret *laughs*. Sandy is off up to London – that’s if she managed to get the train tickets – which were causing no end of problems last week.
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I totally enjoyed Saturday – and we came to the conclusion that all roads led to Merry Hell. We started off about 9.30am and after driving for 10 minutes on autopilot towards Brierley Hill had to pull in and ring Himself for directions to Bilston. We only go there once a year and neither of us could remember the way. We were going in the totally wrong direction and heading for hell.
We got there eventually and made our way to the markets – Tracy brought a couple of pairs of Playgirl socks for Chels, but that was about it. We did purchase a rather nice salad which contained a blue cheese pasta and a wholemeal roll. This was considered by the pair of us to be our contribution towards healthy eating.
Onwards to Telford. Here we managed to purchase a few pressies and indulged in a large piece of chocolate fudge cake with ice cream. On the way out towards the car we passed a stall with a chocolate fountain and it only seem good manners to check it out. Basically you got to choose between mini doughnuts, marshmallows or pieces of fruit that then got covered in chocolate - we both chose the strawberries because it was the healthy option. Ha! The chocolate didn't count as it was only there to keep the strawberries warm.
About 4.00pm we made our way back towards Kidderminster and feeling in a generous mood I decided to indulge Himself’s little fetish for Christmas lights – I brought him a reindeer, to join the motley crew he already owns. Yes, he’s very sad and I try very hard not to encourage him normally – but he gets so excited about it and it's nearly Christmas. If he can put up with me writing stories, I can put up with his need to become the villages equivalent to Blackpool illumination. (OK, Cobweb - did I get the apostrophes right this time? And Scally, I do hope you're not going to let the side down).
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Sunday saw us putting up the last of the lights but not before Steve had taken Matthew out target shooting for the day. Hooray, the house to ourselves - an unusual occurance and one that you need to make the most of. No, not going into details – none of your business. *smug grin*.
I’m in for an interesting week at work and I wouldn't want to miss it – we’ve an LSC audit due tomorrow, the electricians are about to start running the wiring around now they’ve completed the trunking. Of course the server won’t like being turned on and off countless times and will throw a right Freddie - which in turn will ensure that every computer in the place throws a tantrum, so resulting in everyone hot footing it to my door to complain. I worked in a customer service department once, it's a thankless job - you're paid to sit there and let everyone moan at you while remaining very polite. They can't get you for thinking it through.
We’ve our Christmas party/celebration on Thursday night, can’t tell you why we’re celebrating until after it’s been announced officially on Wednesday. Big secret *laughs*. Sandy is off up to London – that’s if she managed to get the train tickets – which were causing no end of problems last week.
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I totally enjoyed Saturday – and we came to the conclusion that all roads led to Merry Hell. We started off about 9.30am and after driving for 10 minutes on autopilot towards Brierley Hill had to pull in and ring Himself for directions to Bilston. We only go there once a year and neither of us could remember the way. We were going in the totally wrong direction and heading for hell.
We got there eventually and made our way to the markets – Tracy brought a couple of pairs of Playgirl socks for Chels, but that was about it. We did purchase a rather nice salad which contained a blue cheese pasta and a wholemeal roll. This was considered by the pair of us to be our contribution towards healthy eating.
Onwards to Telford. Here we managed to purchase a few pressies and indulged in a large piece of chocolate fudge cake with ice cream. On the way out towards the car we passed a stall with a chocolate fountain and it only seem good manners to check it out. Basically you got to choose between mini doughnuts, marshmallows or pieces of fruit that then got covered in chocolate - we both chose the strawberries because it was the healthy option. Ha! The chocolate didn't count as it was only there to keep the strawberries warm.
About 4.00pm we made our way back towards Kidderminster and feeling in a generous mood I decided to indulge Himself’s little fetish for Christmas lights – I brought him a reindeer, to join the motley crew he already owns. Yes, he’s very sad and I try very hard not to encourage him normally – but he gets so excited about it and it's nearly Christmas. If he can put up with me writing stories, I can put up with his need to become the villages equivalent to Blackpool illumination. (OK, Cobweb - did I get the apostrophes right this time? And Scally, I do hope you're not going to let the side down).
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Sunday saw us putting up the last of the lights but not before Steve had taken Matthew out target shooting for the day. Hooray, the house to ourselves - an unusual occurance and one that you need to make the most of. No, not going into details – none of your business. *smug grin*.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Off out Christmas Shopping today with Tracy, we probably won’t get a lot of shopping done, but it will involve us talking each other to death and eating several nice things. Just what the doctor ordered.
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The repair man turned up yesterday with a new drum for the photocopier and complained that people should read the instructions first and that the machine was a very sensitive piece of equipment. That was the trouble these days, he said, people didn’t respect anything anymore. I got the impression that he was a bit of an anorak – so quickly excused myself.
He wandered into my office some time later holding a piece of plastic with metal bits attached to it – he’d mended the machine, he told me – and I should speak to whoever was responsible to make sure they didn’t do it again. I assured him that I’d speak to them personally and make sure that they weren't so irresponsible in future, but it had been an accident -and accident happened.
No, you're quite correct, I totally failed to mention that it was me that had cruelly mistreated the machine in the first place - I'd have never have got rid of him.
I must say it was quite an achievement to turn an A4 piece of plastic into something so compact:
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The repair man turned up yesterday with a new drum for the photocopier and complained that people should read the instructions first and that the machine was a very sensitive piece of equipment. That was the trouble these days, he said, people didn’t respect anything anymore. I got the impression that he was a bit of an anorak – so quickly excused myself.
He wandered into my office some time later holding a piece of plastic with metal bits attached to it – he’d mended the machine, he told me – and I should speak to whoever was responsible to make sure they didn’t do it again. I assured him that I’d speak to them personally and make sure that they weren't so irresponsible in future, but it had been an accident -and accident happened.
No, you're quite correct, I totally failed to mention that it was me that had cruelly mistreated the machine in the first place - I'd have never have got rid of him.
I must say it was quite an achievement to turn an A4 piece of plastic into something so compact:
Friday, December 08, 2006
Is ‘fucked’ a technical word? Yes? Good. In that case I fucked up the photocopier yesterday. I used the wrong overhead projector sheets to photocopy onto.
They appear to have melted onto the drum. Hopefully the repair man will make it to us later today with a new drum. When I rang the company we lease the machine off yesterday (it’s called an embarrassing moment, by the way, even though you can’t see the person on the other end of the phone you know what they’re thinking), they said that they don’t keep spare drums in stock and they’d have to order it in, hence the repair man will only turn up if the part gets delivered. So we are without a photocopier, which also acts as the main company printer – and I’m in the dog house. Nothing new there then.
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Why is it that when you buy yourself a treat – in this case, a piece of chocolate cheesecake, which you then hide it in the fridge. And I do mean hide; the box containing it is still wrapped up in a carrier bag which is at the back of the salad drawer, because lets be honest, you know your own family and leaving it on the shelf would be asking for trouble.
That some bugger still manages to track it down and then eats it. Doesn’t ask to whom it belongs. Oh no, just steals it away. The fact that they’ve already eaten their own piece doesn’t come into it, they just help themselves to yours as well.
And…
If they can see my well hidden piece of cheesecake, how come they can’t see the lump of cheese that’s right in front of their nose? Which, roughly translated, means that you have to come all the way downstairs to point out the obvious.
While I’m having a moan - yes, you're right, it happens a lot. Live with it, everyone else has to - why does my son have to take after his father? Why couldn’t he be more like me? It’s obviously some sort of genetic male thing – something to do with puberty maybe? – they reach a certain age and they can no long find things that are so obvious it amazing they haven't fallen over them or ask for directions.
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This is a first for me – I’ve never done it before. I’m writing to my MP. What, I hear you ask, has motivated me to undertake such a task. I'll tell you. They want to move the library books out of the castle.
It’s no ordinary library. It was built in 1782 by Bishop Hurd to house his books, a bishop's library, and one of the few that remain still intacked; some of the books were given to him by George III. The books line the walls of the room including the door itself and it still contains all of its original furniture.
As a child I spent many a weekend walking around the castle; the state rooms were only open on the first Sunday in every month. If I remember right, it cost 5½p to get into the State rooms and to walk around the gardens afterwards, instead of just the 2½p that it cost to get into the part of the castle that houses the museum. I loved wandering around there as a child, I couldn’t have told you why at the time, it just fascinated me. There was something magical about it.
The Bishop of Worcester has announced that he will be retiring next September and further Bishops will no longer reside at the castle. With this comes the news that they propose to remove the books, and with it the end of a part of history.
I don’t suppose my letter will make that much difference, other than the fact that I’ve stood up for something I believe in. I can but hope that other will do the same and we don't lose another bit of our history.
They appear to have melted onto the drum. Hopefully the repair man will make it to us later today with a new drum. When I rang the company we lease the machine off yesterday (it’s called an embarrassing moment, by the way, even though you can’t see the person on the other end of the phone you know what they’re thinking), they said that they don’t keep spare drums in stock and they’d have to order it in, hence the repair man will only turn up if the part gets delivered. So we are without a photocopier, which also acts as the main company printer – and I’m in the dog house. Nothing new there then.
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Why is it that when you buy yourself a treat – in this case, a piece of chocolate cheesecake, which you then hide it in the fridge. And I do mean hide; the box containing it is still wrapped up in a carrier bag which is at the back of the salad drawer, because lets be honest, you know your own family and leaving it on the shelf would be asking for trouble.
That some bugger still manages to track it down and then eats it. Doesn’t ask to whom it belongs. Oh no, just steals it away. The fact that they’ve already eaten their own piece doesn’t come into it, they just help themselves to yours as well.
And…
If they can see my well hidden piece of cheesecake, how come they can’t see the lump of cheese that’s right in front of their nose? Which, roughly translated, means that you have to come all the way downstairs to point out the obvious.
While I’m having a moan - yes, you're right, it happens a lot. Live with it, everyone else has to - why does my son have to take after his father? Why couldn’t he be more like me? It’s obviously some sort of genetic male thing – something to do with puberty maybe? – they reach a certain age and they can no long find things that are so obvious it amazing they haven't fallen over them or ask for directions.
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This is a first for me – I’ve never done it before. I’m writing to my MP. What, I hear you ask, has motivated me to undertake such a task. I'll tell you. They want to move the library books out of the castle.
It’s no ordinary library. It was built in 1782 by Bishop Hurd to house his books, a bishop's library, and one of the few that remain still intacked; some of the books were given to him by George III. The books line the walls of the room including the door itself and it still contains all of its original furniture.
As a child I spent many a weekend walking around the castle; the state rooms were only open on the first Sunday in every month. If I remember right, it cost 5½p to get into the State rooms and to walk around the gardens afterwards, instead of just the 2½p that it cost to get into the part of the castle that houses the museum. I loved wandering around there as a child, I couldn’t have told you why at the time, it just fascinated me. There was something magical about it.
The Bishop of Worcester has announced that he will be retiring next September and further Bishops will no longer reside at the castle. With this comes the news that they propose to remove the books, and with it the end of a part of history.
I don’t suppose my letter will make that much difference, other than the fact that I’ve stood up for something I believe in. I can but hope that other will do the same and we don't lose another bit of our history.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
What a complete and utter waste of time yesterday turn out to be. I should have been moving all the old archive boxes into a storeroom in the workshop so we could turn the existing room into an office for new staff. When I said I should have been moving the boxes, I meant as acting foreman I would have been issuing instructions to others as to what can go and where. The amount of rubbish in that room is unbelievable – it’s everyone’s dumping ground. There’s an old TV, a pushchair, bedding, computer chairs with the wheels missing and old crockery to name just a few things. Come to think of it, maybe someone’s moved in and we haven’t noticed.
It didn’t happen anyway, the bloody electricians were in the way. Unfortunately that room and corridor are the only places they hadn’t laid the trunking. Never mind it was a good excuse to turn up to work in jeans.
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We have a new fish – I went out to get some fresh plants and live food – so as I was there, I thought I’d just have a quick mooch around the shop. That shop assistant must know me well by now, because he made a point of showing them to me, along with a tank of angel fish, but I didn’t want a new one of those.
So the fish have a new friend – his name is Spot and he’s a plec. He’s a type of catfish, but a different variety to Nono and Hoover, where as they clean the floor, he cleans the glass. A bit like Trish the fish, who we can’t find at the moment – she wasn’t in the boat when we took it out, so she’s either hiding in the rocks or has died and been recycled. The circle of life and all that.
I would have taken a picture of him, but he keeps hiding at the moment. He seems to like sticking himself upside down under the bridge. You’ll have to make do with a picture from a website.
http://fish-tank.freeservers.com/plec.html
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Unfortunately Sandy was involved in an accident whilst leaving the university car park – no one was hurt other than the cars, but she nearly castrated the lad who was driving across the car park in between parked cars, with his windows steamed up and no lights on in the dark. Getting out of his car and saying to her – I’m not surprised that happened, I couldn’t see a thing – wasn’t the cleverest statement to make. But it goes to show that not everyone who attends university is the brightest of sparks.
It’s also says something about our receptionist, who rang up to Sandy to tell her that her bonnet was open. Someone must have put her up to it.
*walks away whistling to herself*
It didn’t happen anyway, the bloody electricians were in the way. Unfortunately that room and corridor are the only places they hadn’t laid the trunking. Never mind it was a good excuse to turn up to work in jeans.
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We have a new fish – I went out to get some fresh plants and live food – so as I was there, I thought I’d just have a quick mooch around the shop. That shop assistant must know me well by now, because he made a point of showing them to me, along with a tank of angel fish, but I didn’t want a new one of those.
So the fish have a new friend – his name is Spot and he’s a plec. He’s a type of catfish, but a different variety to Nono and Hoover, where as they clean the floor, he cleans the glass. A bit like Trish the fish, who we can’t find at the moment – she wasn’t in the boat when we took it out, so she’s either hiding in the rocks or has died and been recycled. The circle of life and all that.
I would have taken a picture of him, but he keeps hiding at the moment. He seems to like sticking himself upside down under the bridge. You’ll have to make do with a picture from a website.
http://fish-tank.freeservers.com/plec.html
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Unfortunately Sandy was involved in an accident whilst leaving the university car park – no one was hurt other than the cars, but she nearly castrated the lad who was driving across the car park in between parked cars, with his windows steamed up and no lights on in the dark. Getting out of his car and saying to her – I’m not surprised that happened, I couldn’t see a thing – wasn’t the cleverest statement to make. But it goes to show that not everyone who attends university is the brightest of sparks.
It’s also says something about our receptionist, who rang up to Sandy to tell her that her bonnet was open. Someone must have put her up to it.
*walks away whistling to herself*
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Busy yesterday, so I didn’t get time to blog.
Firstly thank you, Victoria, for your e-mail and Tasha for your comment *waves*. Victoria, along with Kristy, were the first visitors to dropped me a line all those months ago when I started writing, before Geocities chopped me off in my prime.
I’m glad you found your way over here, Victoria, and you are still a visitor. Yes, OK, I did send you my new link when it happened – but I like to look after my visitors *grin*, it’s only polite. It only sounded like a begging letter.
Well done, Tasha, for overcoming the fear of the comment button. I am enlisting Tasha’s help to run classes on – The Comment Button; Will it Bite your Finger? Fact or Fiction. If anyone’s interested in signing up, both Tasha and I will accept payment in chocolates and copious amounts of alcohol.
Thanks, Tasha, for your comment – much appreciated.
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Talking of alcohol, I brought some raffle tickets last week that our young mums-to-be project were selling. We set the project up to support young mums and mums-to-be under the age of 21, most are single parents living in bed and breakfast accommodation.
We all donated prizes at work – hence, there was a large selection of chocolates and alcohol – including some very nice bottles of wine, which I quite fancied. Guess what, I won a prize.
The first person to say Ahhhhh will get thumped. Not quite as bad of those mince pies, but it’s not a bottle of wine, is it!
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We’re still putting up Christmas lights, our friend Rich turned up with a 9 foot Christmas tree last night; he’s brought it for us as a Christmas present. A really nice thought as we hadn’t got round to getting one yet – apparently he’d driven past before hand to check. I do wish he wouldn’t encourage Himself, who is now convinced that we will need another set of lights to go on it. Apparently the three sets that we have already have for the outside Christmas tree, will not be enough.
We’ve an artificial tree inside – it to hot for a real one, the needles just drop and then the dogs get them in their paws. The last time we had a real tree inside we had to throw it out a week before Christmas as it was basically just a large branch with twigs and decorations on it.
So we’ve still got some outside lights to put up, and I just started to look at the tea lights, er… all 6 large plastic boxes of them. I really need to sort them out and get rid of the ones I no longer use. Not really in a throw away mood at the moment…so maybe next year.
Firstly thank you, Victoria, for your e-mail and Tasha for your comment *waves*. Victoria, along with Kristy, were the first visitors to dropped me a line all those months ago when I started writing, before Geocities chopped me off in my prime.
I’m glad you found your way over here, Victoria, and you are still a visitor. Yes, OK, I did send you my new link when it happened – but I like to look after my visitors *grin*, it’s only polite. It only sounded like a begging letter.
Well done, Tasha, for overcoming the fear of the comment button. I am enlisting Tasha’s help to run classes on – The Comment Button; Will it Bite your Finger? Fact or Fiction. If anyone’s interested in signing up, both Tasha and I will accept payment in chocolates and copious amounts of alcohol.
Thanks, Tasha, for your comment – much appreciated.
++++
Talking of alcohol, I brought some raffle tickets last week that our young mums-to-be project were selling. We set the project up to support young mums and mums-to-be under the age of 21, most are single parents living in bed and breakfast accommodation.
We all donated prizes at work – hence, there was a large selection of chocolates and alcohol – including some very nice bottles of wine, which I quite fancied. Guess what, I won a prize.
The first person to say Ahhhhh will get thumped. Not quite as bad of those mince pies, but it’s not a bottle of wine, is it!
++++
We’re still putting up Christmas lights, our friend Rich turned up with a 9 foot Christmas tree last night; he’s brought it for us as a Christmas present. A really nice thought as we hadn’t got round to getting one yet – apparently he’d driven past before hand to check. I do wish he wouldn’t encourage Himself, who is now convinced that we will need another set of lights to go on it. Apparently the three sets that we have already have for the outside Christmas tree, will not be enough.
We’ve an artificial tree inside – it to hot for a real one, the needles just drop and then the dogs get them in their paws. The last time we had a real tree inside we had to throw it out a week before Christmas as it was basically just a large branch with twigs and decorations on it.
So we’ve still got some outside lights to put up, and I just started to look at the tea lights, er… all 6 large plastic boxes of them. I really need to sort them out and get rid of the ones I no longer use. Not really in a throw away mood at the moment…so maybe next year.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Blogger has had a breakdown - the toolbar's missing, so I can't upload the photos yet. It just keeps saying errors on page.
Update: Photos now added.
Himself has been in his element the whole weekend – it’s the first week of December so we’ve started to decorate the house. It took the best part of yesterday and he’s still not finished.
He spent two hours on Saturday testing all the light bulbs, which were fine when we packed them away into the 10 large plastic boxes that we store them in, in the attic. I nearly got flatted when be passed them down to me on Friday night, I don’t remember the boxes being that heavy when we put them up there.
After using up his supply of bulbs it meant a trip to the garden centre on Saturday in order to restock and look at their lights. Why anyone would want a 25ft tall snowman beats me. Where the hell are you going to put it?
We came away with our light bulbs plus a new rope light, bless him, sometimes you can’t say no – even though we’ve enough lights to decorate next door’s, never mind our house.
It never fails to amaze me that even after testing every hanging icicle before freezing to death while Himself up them up, when we switched them on last night – some of the bulb had blown again. So Himself – there his lights – then had to test everyone in the sequence until he found the rogue light. Unfortunately he was once again under the impression that I was his builders mate.
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Strong winds here on Saturday and I’m not talking about Tracy. It blew the door and window out of the greenhouse, not that it’s used for plants or flowers – it’s just somewhere to store the duck’s food, which I keep in a plastic dustbin. So no harm done. It also carried the Patio table down the whole length of the garden and stripped the remaining leaves from the trees.
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Craig went to see the Welsh Rally on Saturday and sent me some pictures. I think he had a small problem with timing – but there are some good shots of trees.
Update: Photos now added.
Himself has been in his element the whole weekend – it’s the first week of December so we’ve started to decorate the house. It took the best part of yesterday and he’s still not finished.
He spent two hours on Saturday testing all the light bulbs, which were fine when we packed them away into the 10 large plastic boxes that we store them in, in the attic. I nearly got flatted when be passed them down to me on Friday night, I don’t remember the boxes being that heavy when we put them up there.
After using up his supply of bulbs it meant a trip to the garden centre on Saturday in order to restock and look at their lights. Why anyone would want a 25ft tall snowman beats me. Where the hell are you going to put it?
We came away with our light bulbs plus a new rope light, bless him, sometimes you can’t say no – even though we’ve enough lights to decorate next door’s, never mind our house. It never fails to amaze me that even after testing every hanging icicle before freezing to death while Himself up them up, when we switched them on last night – some of the bulb had blown again. So Himself – there his lights – then had to test everyone in the sequence until he found the rogue light. Unfortunately he was once again under the impression that I was his builders mate.
++++
Strong winds here on Saturday and I’m not talking about Tracy. It blew the door and window out of the greenhouse, not that it’s used for plants or flowers – it’s just somewhere to store the duck’s food, which I keep in a plastic dustbin. So no harm done. It also carried the Patio table down the whole length of the garden and stripped the remaining leaves from the trees.
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Craig went to see the Welsh Rally on Saturday and sent me some pictures. I think he had a small problem with timing – but there are some good shots of trees.
Friday, December 01, 2006
A pinch and a punch, it's the first of the month.
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Nearly all of yesterday was spent on a Time Management course. I can’t say I came away with a lot of answers to the age old question of how to get three days work to fit into one. I already use a diary, write a ‘to do list’ and have a good filing system and to top it all, I’m well aware that I’ve learnt the fine art of procrastination.
When we came to put the equipment away at the end, no-one wanted to take the screen down. There’s a very good reason for this, it more lethal than Arkright’s till.
I thought I’d done it, but the bastard got me when the clip flicked back. Straight across one knuckle, cutting it and pinching another finger, leaving a blood blister. I said, ‘Oh dear, you naughty screen.’ And if you believe that, you still believe in Father Christmas.
When I got back to my office the electrican was in there – so I buggered off home instead. No point in wasting my time at work, now was it?
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Nearly all of yesterday was spent on a Time Management course. I can’t say I came away with a lot of answers to the age old question of how to get three days work to fit into one. I already use a diary, write a ‘to do list’ and have a good filing system and to top it all, I’m well aware that I’ve learnt the fine art of procrastination.
When we came to put the equipment away at the end, no-one wanted to take the screen down. There’s a very good reason for this, it more lethal than Arkright’s till.
I thought I’d done it, but the bastard got me when the clip flicked back. Straight across one knuckle, cutting it and pinching another finger, leaving a blood blister. I said, ‘Oh dear, you naughty screen.’ And if you believe that, you still believe in Father Christmas.
When I got back to my office the electrican was in there – so I buggered off home instead. No point in wasting my time at work, now was it?
Talking of Father Christmas I see Sky One have covered Terry Pratchet's Hog Father, it's showing in December. David Jason is playing Albert. The make-up for Mr Teatime looks good, just how I'd imagined him. And the icing on the cake is that Mr Pratchett himself has a part as a toymaker. So I'm hoping they'll get it right, but then I believe in fairies. They did a cartoon version of Wyrd Sisters and it was awful, even more so as they're my favourite characters. Johnny and the Bomb was OK. I can't understand why his books haven't been made into a film.
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I won’t bore you with all the jokes about fish today suffice to say that they were nearly as bad as Scally’s. Yes, that bad.
OK, just the one then:
What do you call a fish with no eyes?
Fsh.
See what I mean? I told Jane that if she wanted a pay rise she needed to remember who her manager was. The very same manager who was running the pay role tomorrow. You just can't get the staff these days.
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