Here's wishing you all a...

Boing!

What can I say? Probably the less the better would be the wisest but you know me, never one for using one word where ten will do! ;o)

Christmas came and went in a blur, Christmas day itself was lovely, my entire immediate family managed to all be in one place at one time, a feat in itself and much noisy merriment was made, much good food was consumed and much good wine quaffed.

Christmas day over though and with the arrival of the sad news on Boxing day morning that Fletch's Aunt was critically ill, the person, who having never known his grandparents he considers the closest thing he has to a grandmother, life became pretty hectic as we beetled our way first back to Cambridge, then down to the south coast to collect Fletch's mum and then up to Yorkshire and back again. I think our main memory of the last few days is of one or another motorway. We covered well over a thousand miles and finally arrived home yesterday, with his brother in tow for a few days.

The Aunt is holding her own for now but to be honest it's not looking very positive in the longer term and stress levels and tiredness levels are running high, I feel like Zebedee, (yes, I'm showing my age!) wound up like a spring about to uncoil wildly, as does Fletch and having not stopped in one place for longer than twenty four hours all thoughts of a relaxing holiday seem to be long gone.

Tomorrow, theoretically at least, we plan to go out to welcome in the new year with friends but if we have learned one thing this week it is that plans aren't the best plan!

'Boing said Zebedee'!

Was that Christmas then?

So... Here I am blogging from my phone somewhere on the M1 heading north to Yorkshire to visit a critically ill relative. Christmas day was good but by early boxing day things had begun to go pear shaped in a pretty big way and since then, if something could go wrong it seems to have done so spectacularly, resulting in most of our time being spent on the road!

Christmas seems a long time ago now, in fact I'm not sure it happened at all did it? The chance to stop travelling and sleep in my own bed can't come quickly enough right now but with a bit of luck another 500 miles should do it... I'm not counting my chickens thought, the last few days have proven that not to be the wisest of moves!

Happy Christmas everyone!

Let the fun begin!

At last the madness and mayhem of the pre-Christmas panic is almost over and the fun can begin! The parcels are wrapped, the comestibles are purchased, Fletch's car is back from it's repairs, the horrible hire car is history and Punctuation is at Heathrow as I type, waiting to board his flight to the U.S. and Lisa anytime now, it's all coming together!

I have a few bits to finish up and then we hit the road for Christmas with my parents and the rest of my immediate family, it will be the first time in years we have all managed to get together in one place and it should be pretty cool.

We then have to race back home on Boxing day to check Hammy is ok. I don't like leaving her alone for more than a day or two but I have no Hammy sitter so the extra 200 miles is a necessary evil....though I doubt she will even wake up long enough to notice we are there!

Then having re-stocked the Hammy food bowl etc. it's a quick turnaround and back on the road for the south coast and a couple of days of festive fun with Fletch's family and friends.

So that's it, we got there in the end, the madness is over, now let the fun begin......

I'll be back soon, or via my phone if I have the time or inclination, but until then....

Happy Christmas, have yourselves a fab one guys!

Jealousy and 'Jane days'

'Jane Days'....what on earth am I talking about you may well ask....well let me explain, though I warn you, you may need a certain degree of similar insanity as I to get where I am coming from here!

The question, 'what are Jane Days'? arose yesterday when I made reference to them in all innocence on Twitter and suddenly found myself having to explain to various people who, er, strangely had no idea what I was talking about! Ok, maybe not so strange. I never claimed to be entirely sane though did I?

So....this is how it works, first, those of you who don't know already, need to know that my real name is Jane. I never mentioned it here before, it was an internet security 'ism' I harboured for years but it's been mentioned so often in my comments etc. now that it's become academic.

Jane days are a coping mechanism, designed in my odd little mind years ago to get through periods in my life when I desperately wanted to get to a particular day and the days just weren't going fast enough to that date. I have always been a 'counter', counting down the weeks, days, hours etc. to an important event and 'Jane Days' made the period between the present and the event seem shorter and hence less depressing. It's simple really and it works like this;
Lets say you are desperate to get to Friday and it's only Monday, it's misery making to realise that's five whole days, but it's not, it's really only three, well three 'Jane Days', because if you are already at Monday there is no need to count it, it's already as good as done (see, one less day already) and if the event you are waiting for is on the Friday, you don't count that day either, there is no need because the nice thing you have been waiting for and counting down too, will be happening on that day!

See, instantly your nasty five day wait is transformed into just a mere three day wait and it sounds way less depressing as you await your longed for event!! It works with whole weeks too! It's something I have always done, a little psychological trickery that in my little mind actually helps.... and Fletch, who know me only too well, began years ago referring to them as 'Jane Days' when utilising the system for my benefit!

Hey.....I did warn you I am not entirely sane!

But, why was I mentioning Jane Days yesterday and why the reference to 'jealousy' in the title of this post? Well tomorrow morning Punctuation will fly from Heathrow to to the U.S. to spend Christmas with Lisa and when he began counting down the last few days until his flight I offered up the 'Jane Days theory' to shorten his wait! ( he now doubts my sanity too I suspect)...as I mentioned earlier thought, I happened to do it on Twitter, which resulted in a number of confused queries and hence my explanation now!

And the jealousy? Well whilst I am looking forward to my own Christmas, I soooo wish I was flying out there too tomorrow to see Lisa again, her summer visit here seems a long time ago now....unfortunately I'm just not quite small enough to squash into Punctuations case un-noticed! ;o)

'Hallelujah' - Cover your ears Mr Buckley!

The news that my lifetime favourite song, 'Hallelujah', the piece of musical magic penned by happy boy Cohen, that means much to me and has the ability to move me to a thousand emotions in an instant has been annihilated by X Factor contestant Alexandra Burke, has not pleased me. The fact that her version has made it to the number one spot has pleased me even less!

Ms. X Factor has taken a beautiful, meaningful piece of musical art and turned it into a meaningless piece of commercial, power ballad crap that we will now have to suffer over the festivities each time the radio is turned on....mine is being turned very firmly off for the duration. For me it borders on the offensive, Lord knows what Cohen thinks about it and Jeff Buckley must be turning in his grave poor man! This girl patently doesn't have even the slightest notion or understanding of what the lyrics are about....and it shows!

The only saving grace in the whole sorry situation is that Buckley's version has chased this latest horror up the charts and sits in the number two spot, so hopefully those who think Ms Burke's offering is acceptable will also get a chance to hear what it should really sound like!

...and for anyone who isn't familair with how it should sound or would just like six minutes of pure pleasure, I offer for your musical delectation, 'Hallelujah' by the brilliant Jeff Buckley. Enjoy....


....or for an even better live version go HERE.

Magical.

It's all good

Well unsurprisingly I survived the 'corporate bash' on Friday and though amusingly it was worse than expected, the dire-ness of it all made it slightly more entertaining!

You know how these places are, portion control principles and portion control standards, a posh hotel that assumes we minions will be suitably impressed by the name and that they need not make the usual efforts they know their day to day customers would demand.

It transpired that the party was being held in a marquee, granted a big, professional marquee but still, in the high winds of Friday evening, a tent by any other name. It was cold, very draughty and in usual money gabbling way it was stuffed to the gunnels with way too many tables, gold painted, faux elegant, plastic chairs and low end decor. The lighting was straight out of a 70's disco and hung on such low gantry's we all spent the night trying to shield our eyes from green and red spotlight glare, the food was less than average and the 'entertainment' appeared to be a disco with a DJ who was mostly promoting a local radio station! The whole thing was reminiscent of a low budget wedding, only the appalling speeches were missing!

But, it's very tackiness was mildly entertaining in itself and we all made the best of it. As luck would have it we were seated with all our usual gang of friends and a considerable distance from the boss' so things could have been worse, the beer was free, no-one required issuing with an ASBO and the taxi turned up prompt at 12.30 to effect our escape for another year!

Yesterday evening however was a whole different story. We had a long standing invitation to dinner with a colleague of Fletch's who moved to the area recently and lives just around the corner. We had met him of course but not his wife so it was with a little apprehension that we set off in the evening to their house wondering how well it would all go.

We needn't have worried, it was a lovely night, good food, good wine, excellent coffee, excellent cheese and most importantly excellent company, we all got on like a house on fire! It was chilled, comfortable and a real pleasure. Their daughter, who is to celebrate her first birthday on Christmas day was an absolute delight (even to me who doesn't 'do' children) and the evening just flew by, none of that sneaky clock watching of the previous evening!

It's all good, 'K' is a stay at home mum and new to the area so she knows even fewer people than I do. We have plans to meet up for a coffee and a gossip now and then and we have an open invite back for dinner etc.....you never know if these things will turn into lifetime friendships or just occasional pleasant evening but it got off to a good start and it will be nice at least to have someone close by to share the odd cup of coffee and a natter with.

So that was our weekend. We had also managed to squish in an hour or so with Punctuation for a coffee and a chat yesterday which was cool (more on that another day) and now today we are recovering from the two late nights and the surfeit of last nights feasting, before tomorrow sees the start of manic parcel wrapping and a final shopping trip in readiness for the big day!

Al I want for Christmas is.....

Ultra lazy post today, sorry! ;o)

Tis the season to be.....

..... dressed up like a dogs bloody dinner and have to play the corporate game!

Yes, tonight sees Fletch's Christmas 'works bash' take place and you can probably tell I'm not looking forward to it with too much glee! It sounds ok I will grant you, dinner at the Hilton, free bar all night and gratis taxi's in each direction but the likely reality is that the dinner will be a portion control, mass produced, luke-warm affair and a free bar always has a habit of resulting in problems of the sick bucket kind! If I remember correctly, the sick bucket facility was required only half way through the evening last year and then was hotly pursued by a need for the paramedics to be called. This was not for myself or Fletch I hasten to add!

The whole issue does nothing for me, call me boring but I don't like getting dressed up and having to contend with heels and the like and I particularly dislike the whole corporate forelock tugging malarkey, it's just not my bag and nor is it Fletch's but it has to be done. I just don't understand the whole principle of having to pay homage to the boss(s), they are people like you and me, ok, unlike me they are successful from a professional point of view but they are still just people, not demi-gods, and I would hope I show respect to everyone, the fact that these particular individuals are rich and successful doesn't make them better or worse.

But hey ho (or should that be Ho Ho Ho) it can't be avoided and this year we are at least grateful in the current financial climate that the business is sound and that Fletch has a job at all.... so we will dutifully tug our forelocks, make polite and boring conversation and hope that at least the free bar takes the edge off it all!

Tis the season to be grumpy merry tra la la la la la laaaaaaa....... ;o)

Back in the saddle soon

It's been over a year since we were out on the road on Eloisa, (for those of you new here Eloisa is our much loved bike, tech. spec. etc. here, an XRV with the full on and off road touring kit) this is not a good situation but time and money meant that she has sat, along with the VFR, outside the flat, falling into a state of disrepair for all that time. This is not good either!

As anyone who has ever tried leaving a bike out in the elements long term will know, they don't much like it and as a result, the bill to get them back in working order is going to be pretty horrendous and likely to make it into four figures. Yet more which is not good.

However, we have finally managed to gather together the necessary cash and this morning 'Mr Nicebikefixingguy' should arrive with his truck to take both bikes away and restore them to their former glory so that this coming year we can 'go out to play' again and not have to suffer the indignity of holidaying on four wheels instead of two! Yipeeeee.

In actual fact we have no intention of keeping the VFR, once that is fixed it's up for sale (anyone wanting to buy a nippy sports tourer please apply here), it rarely got used and became just another expense we can well do without. Eloise however, she is a whole different story, she is part of the family and has been very sorely missed. Hopefully all the work will be done and she will be back home again by soon into the new year and then, with a little luck and a prevailing wind, we can start to plan our next trip and rejoin the ranks of those who prefer not to be stuck in traffic in a tin box!

All we have to do now is try and stop Fletch working 24/7 so we actually have the time to get out there and then see if I can still manage to squish myself into my leathers!

Lost Kitten

A kitten, only hours old and already utilising one of it's nine lives.

Do not try THIS at home!

A new bad experience

I'm completely pathetic.....the worlds biggest lightweight!

Fletch and I went to the pub last night, I had two drinks, I repeat, only two, the second of which I didn't even manage to finish but regardless of all of that, this morning I have woken with the hangover from somewhere close to hell! How ridiculous! I even have to admit to suffering significantly 'retarded function' after only the first one, for it was at that point Fletch became subjected to slightly confusing and giggly conversation and that at which time, when I attempted to go outside for a cigarette, I fell over someones feet and stumbled stupidly through the door....tres graceful!

In my defence I was tee total from age twenty until a couple of years ago (yes, Fletch corrupted me), I am small so there's not much room for the alcohol to spread about my body and I had eaten nothing all day, but still, just two drinks rendering me in today's suffering condition, I consider to be particularly pathetic!

This hangover business is not a new experience I am enjoying, I feel 'orrible, how do people do this week after week?? No thank you, this I can live without, bleugh!

Now where's the paracetamol.....


*Oh....and off topic, but THIS is almost as pathetic, if you are using I.E you might like to consider changing for the time being!!!

Rebecca Adlington on stating the obvious!

Watching Sports Personality of the Year on the BBC last night I was much amused by one line.

The gold medal Olympic swimmer Rebecca Adlington, while making a thank you speech, was heard to utter the words.....

"I wouldn't be here without my parents"

No sh*t Sherlock!!!

Yes, I know what she meant but it still tickled me!

Deck the halls....

....with not very much!

If I'm honest we had decided that this year anything in the Christmas tree line was a waste of money that could be better spent, we won't be here for the festivities in any case, but then last minute we considered something small might be less 'bah humbug' than nothing at all! As a result, yesterday we braved the pre-Christmas crowds in an attempt at securing for ourselves a small tree. Our efforts were thwarted though, the small Christmas tree cupboards were bare.....so not to be off put, I tied the one bauble we own (and that's only because my mother bought it for me last week) to a lamp and......voila, decorations done!

Are you impressed? ;o)

Hey, minimalist is good!

Saturday silliness!

'The broccoli kitten' Enjoy.

Mammography for the size challenged!

I was reading an article somewhere a day or two back about one woman's difficulties in having her routine mammogram performed and it reminded me of a painful but hilarious experience of my own some years ago!

I have to begin here by explaining that I am somewhat 'challenged' in the breast department. I have run the gamut of 'fried egg' and 'pimple' jokes ever since the days in my adolescence when I kept waiting hopefully for my chest to expand to the impressive proportions of my contemporaries, but as the result of my being a gymnast it became patently obvious I would be waiting forever!

So, at age about thirty and being in a high risk group for a particular type of breast cancer - which seems somewhat unfair considering their lack of proportion - when I developed a lump the NHS swung into diagnostic action and off I was sent for a mammogram poste haste.

Now for those of you who are not familiar with this carry on, one is required to stand in front of a rather large (well it was in those days, they might have changed by now) machine, naked from the waist up, with the arm on the affected side raised above the head and the offending breast placed on a kind of 'plate', above which is the working part that takes the pictures. This I promise you is not an easy position to adopt in my case for the following reasons.

Firstly I was too bloody short - no surprise there then - and having adopted the prescribed position of torture it transpired that the distance between the ground and my breast was insufficient for me to actually get my breast where they needed it! I was shuffled and moved and poked by a very kind radiographer but to no avail, I was just not tall enough and in the end, with much apology, she asked me if I would be offended if she asked me to stand on a box! Hell no, I have been standing on boxes all my life, so off she went to find a box and came back with something plastic and officey looking and on it I got. Success, I was tall enough! Or so we thought.

But it was not to end there. The 'plate' on which I then had to 'display' my breast had markers on it, they are to assist the radiographer in lining up the camera so that suitable images can be obtained but my breast didn't even make it to the first marker and no amount of her maneuvering me would persuade it up to the starting line.

At this point the radiographer became a little embarrassed, she now had the probably usually unenviable task of telling her patient that her breast was effectively so small it was presenting a real logistical problem, but despite my stressed situation of facing the possibility that I had cancer, I couldn't help but find the whole issue hilarious.... and to her relief I began to fall about with laughter at what was rapidly turning into something akin to a slap-stick scene from a carry on film!

The ice was broken, I explained that I had no issue with being small chested and she had no need to spare my feelings or pussy-foot around me so off she went again and returned with a colleague who was apparently more practiced in this malarkey and who without compunction stood me on a book (it was a medical book so that was acceptable I assumed) ontop of the box, jammed the back of the plate to somewhere that felt it had entered my chest cavity and then manhandled my by now somewhat sore breast, with a severe degree of someone who knows that the job has to be done at any cost, into a position that she thought might do the trick. She warned me that this was going to be 'a little more painful than usual' ( I didn't know what usual was but hey)and then squished my offending body part, rapidly and without mercy between the plates and hit the 'go' button!

She wasn't wrong, it hurt like the very devil! I don't think it is ever comfortable but by her own admission she had to 'squish harder' than the norm to keep my bits in place and obtain her images. I have never had it done since and I don't relish having it done in the future, it was truly horrible but it was as funny as hell and the three of us finally finished up giggling like girls and with the required pictures successfully obtained.

I promise you, if you are breast tissue challenged this is something of an experience and not one for the faint-hearted, or at least it was in those days. Hopefully by now the procedures and equipment have evolved to include those of us who don't make it to page three status but as I near the age where this stuff becomes routine for me because of my risk levels I can't say I relish the thought, despite the amusement factor!

The Clampett effect!

I really begin to feel like The Clampetts in my damn car these days, I seem rarely to use it at the moment, but whenever I do it doesn't fail in it's ability to disappoint one way or another!

In the knowledge that yesterday I was visiting my parents, which involves a 180 mile drive, I decided on the previous day that I should take the crap car out 'just to check' it was in working order....and what I had intended to be a half hour outing turned into a whole day's debacle of hassle, stress and aggravation. Was the crap car in working order??....was it hell!

I had driven only five miles when suddenly a loud 'crack' sounded from the rear and in my mirror I witnessed the rear wiper flying through the air, gone forever. Bugger I thought, oh well, that's easily fixed, I'll sort it on my way home. I made it to my destination, Tesco's, did the shopping thing and set off in search of a new part. I had hardly hit the motorway again when I discovered that my nearside indicator had gone the way of the wiper and was making no effort whatsoever to indicate. Kaput! Bugger again! Mental note, 'Add to list of parts to buy, a new bulb'....and within seconds of that thought another loud clattering noise began emitting scarily from somewhere about me!

Moments later, with even more clattering, and before I had time to pull over anywhere to investigate the noise, a rather large 'bit of something' flew at high velocity off the side of the car and was to be seen, again in my rear view mirror, hurtling down the carriage-way and into a hedge! FFS!!!

I pulled over at the first opportunity and scrambled out into the rain, planted myself upside down in the mud and muck - oh joy - to investigate and discovered that the departing part had been a section of wheel arch and the remaining piece was dangling unhelpfully against the tyre, it's fixing grommets very absent! Exasperated I gave it a hard kick, temporarily securing it behind the body work...and carried on on my search for now more parts.

En-route I decided to check my tyre pressures, even that wasn't simple. The first place I tried the machine was defunct and the second had such a long queue that people were becoming fraught with one another and small arguments began to erupt. I opted to use the car wash first and go back to the air after that....next small disaster...the car wash broke with me in it! Arghhhh! Thankfully it didn't trap me inside and there was another, but I had to fight the attendant to issue me with another ticket! It was beginning to feel very much like it was one of those days I just shouldn't have got out of bed at all!

Eventually, by now very rankled, I emerged clean from the wash and pumped up my tyres, things were looking up....until when emptying the car ashtray I dropped it into the bottom of the cavernous bin and had to hang upside down on the edge with my whole body poking through the little hole in the side to retrieve it! Don't laugh!

The rest is a blur, I got lost trying to find Halfords so abandoned that plan and instead found a local car parts emporium, where I was provided with the wiper...only to find I didn't have enough money to pay for it and had to rush off to the bank and go all the way back. The indicator light wasn't the bulb but a corroded connection requiring more than a quick fix and the wheel arch was history, new parts not available and duct tape seemed to be the only short term solution on offer!

By the time I got home it was dark and I was completely fraught and frazzled, my half hour trip had taken most of the day and my car was hung together with tape, I was feeling less than 'chipper' to say the least. There is always an upside though. I did manage to make it to my parents yesterday, which had I not 'tested' the car the previous day I wouldn't have, a good time was had, we bought a Christmas tree and got it decorated and I only had to stop three times on my travels to boot the dangling arch back behind the metal work!!!

The Clampetts have nothing on me man!

A question of 'cooties'

Until yesterday I hadn't even heard of 'cooties', I think maybe it's an American thing, or maybe I'm just dumb but whatever, the question is this, are they real? There seems to be some difference of opinion, Wikipedia tell me they are an imaginary thing, kinda like we would say we have the 'lurgy', but others say they exist!

So do they or don't they? What's the Cootie thing all about? Would anyone like to enlighten a dumb Brit please?

Oh.....and whilst I was 'researching' cooties I found this amusing little item;

Orange - New heights of stupidity

I find this hard to believe, well actually I don't and that's the sad thing, we are so used to the idiocy of large corporations and their inefficiencies that we now accept almost any degree of stupidity as no great surprise!

When I lived in Scotland my ISP was Orange, yes that's ORANGE if you are in any doubt who I am talking about here! They were 'Wanadoo' at that time but it's all the same.

When I left Scotland I closed the account, cleared it and that was that. That was almost three years ago. Simple? You would have thought so...or maybe you know better!

In all that time I have heard nothing, I repeat nothing, from them, the account was closed, I couldn't access the email address etc. all seemed well, history.....that was until yesterday.

Yesterday I received a little missive via snail mail from their debt collecting factors telling me I owe them money, £31 to be precise. Not much I grant you and maybe I should have just paid it, but I dispute that I owe it in the first place and I was so incensed by the whole issue I decided this time I would dig my heels in. To that end I called the debt collectors, explained the situation and that I had subsequently been declared bankrupt in any case, so they could no longer make a claim against me.

As these companies do (I know from bitter experience during my bankruptcy proceedings that even the big boys, those high street names we are supposed to trust, are more than capable of lying to Jane Doe in their efforts to secure payment) they assumed I didn't know the laws surrounding bankruptcy (like one would go through all that and not know!) and lied to me about the powers they had. As a result they threatened to carry on chasing me until my dying day, yada, yada, yada. and said only Orange could call them off.

So, when I could eventually found a number for them, I called Orange..... and at expensive rates was left hanging on for almost an hour while they 'couldn't find any trace of me'. You don't say!. I tolerated two individuals with a joint I.Q. of a small peanut as long as my patience would allow but eventually I lost it and asked to speak to a supervisor....she turned out to be only marginally brighter but with the customer service skills of a rhinoceros.

To cut what became a very protracted story slightly shorter, I got nowhere, absolutely nowhere and so incensed further I really dug my heels in, probably immaturely but hell, I'm sick of it all, it's my turn to play stupid I figure!

She just didn't seem to grasp the principle of personal bankruptcy and that no matter what she did or threatened me with it would only cost her company money, and it would be her company contravening the law, not me. Neither could she understand why I might be ever so slightly miffed that the first and only thing I had heard in almost three years was from a debt collecting company, or that I maintain that I don't owe them the money in the first place!

So, I explained that I wouldn't be paying on principle and nor would I be jumping through their administrative hoops proving my case when I don't believe I have a case to prove in the first place and nor would I be intimidated by their threats, let's face it, I have dealt with my fair share of that these last few years and they can hardly destroy my financial status any more than it already has been. I won't ever realistically be in a position to obtain a mortgage or credit again whatever I do, so if they wish to keep spending their shareholders money chasing thirty quid, they can be my guest!!!

I know, I know, I probably should just play the game and had any one of them been remotely reasonable or behaved with common courtesy or common sense I would have, but I'm fed up to the back teeth with this kind of stupidity and this time they can go to hell, I can be stupid too!

Did I mention this is ORANGE?

So sue me, I repeat, I am bankrupt, I have nothing!

*And as a general footnote for anyone who considers bankruptcy the 'easy way out', something we bankrupts are accused of from time to time, I promise you, it is not!

Bite me!

Saturday's Christmas shopping expedition resulted in among all the other purchases, the acquisition of a Natural History Museum stuffed toy dinosaur! I will add quickly here that it was intended as a gift for a three year old relative......but on the drive home, Fletch decided it was pretty funky and it was his!....and in true demented comedic Fletch style it also acquired a name en-route, 'Doyouthinkhesaurus' (what do you call a blind dinosaur, yada, yada).

Yesterday morning I found it abandoned on the bedroom floor so when I made the bed I plonked it randomly, and without further thought, on the pillows with the only other squishy toy (I don't really do the whole soft toy thing) we posses and that was that.

Sometime later I went into the bedroom to get something and was met with this sight;


Perhaps I shouldn't have plonked it so randomly!

Well it amused me anyways, but ok, maybe I'm easily amused! :o)

Christmas is done - ish!

What a relief! We decided yesterday that there was no point stressing about the lack of Christmas organisation in gemmak's-ville and then doing precisely sod all about it, so yesterday we bit the bullet and headed off early (well early for us on a Saturday morning) to face the demon Christmas crowds in Milton Keynes!

And demon they were, nothing less than the expected nightmare greeted us but we focused on the task at hand, though Fletch might not agree I was as focused as I should have been given my proclivity to wander off the straight and narrow to check out 'me stuff' now and again!!

But persevere we did and by 5pm we exited into the cold, dark evening, complete with ninety percent of everything we need for the Christmas tussle in a few weeks time. Ok, we were jiggered and somewhat 'fraught', there had been the usual 'man out shopping domestic exchanges of opinion' (what is it with guys and shopping??) here and there but we had it almost all done, in one hit! Result!

Add to that, we managed to hook up with Punctuation for a quick coffee and a natter early on in the proceedings and then decided on our homeward journey that we deserved to go via a bar for dinner and a beer as our reward! ;o)

It's all good, ....save now for a lingering headache and the fact that Fletch, having had to spend his Saturday in retail hell, has now had to go into work for the rest of his weekend! Ooopsss.

A winter poem

I found this beautiful winter poem and thought it might be a comfort to you. It was to me, and it's very well written.

'WINTER'
a poem by Abigail Elizabeth McIntyre
'SHIT, It's Cold!'
The End.

Fire!

This building Fletch and I live in is an old converted paper mill parked squarely on the edge of a river. It has been utilised by various organisations since the long forgotten when days it actually milled paper, it was Clive Sinclair's company headquarters in the heady days of the ZX Spectrum and the infamous C5 and then later became the local police HQ until some property developer saw fit to 'develop' it and it became what it is today.

The building houses approx. 36 flats all inhabited by either retired people looking for a bijoux little spot on the river to see out their days or yuppy types who are rarely ever here....and then there is us who fall into neither category and in my case who is always here! And thereby hangs the tale.

There is of course a fire alarm system but quite why, other than to fulfill building regs. I have no idea because it sounds with such regular monotony everyone bar me it seems, has tuned it out in the firm belief that it is just another old duffer burning their breakfast toast! Which of course it is, but one day it just might not be...and do they care? Nope, seemingly not!

I have lost count of the times I have scrabbled into some clothes in a hurry, gathered up life's essentials (handbag, phone, lappy, Hammy....she fits nicely in my handbag for safe-keeping)) equally rapidly and bowled out onto the landing to find maybe, at the very most, only two or three velour and gold-lame slippered residents wandering about aimlessly asking me if they 'really need to go downstairs'! Ack!

The whole issue seems ridiculous, I don't know what current fire safety law requires and my days married to a fireman are so long gone I don't recall now exacely what they used to be, but here is a building with a high number of elderly and in many cases very infirm residents and we don't qualify, it would seem, for an 'automatic turn out' from the local fire station. Add to that, the regularly of the alarms means very few people take a blind bit of notice and even if they did, in a fire the lifts shouldn't be used and most of them aren't able to exit via the stairs!

No-one seems to know how to turn the alarm off, no-one but me understands the fire panel as far as I can tell, no-one has a key to turn it off anyways and despite my attempts at trying to get some information and assuming some responsibility for the situation, I have had no success. Add to that, whilst the alarm is tested weekly there has never been a drill in the time we have been here and in the event of an alarm or a fire we, the residents (that would likely be me then I suppose) are supposed to call the janitor guy....who lives five miles away and only has a push bike for transport! How freaking helpful, not!

One day, mark my words, something nasty is going to happen in this building and maybe then someone will start asking a question or two!

Too soon was the cry!

Christmas that is! How is it that the Christmas's of recent years have developed this nasty habit of stealth? They seem to creep up on me silently and then suddenly pounce, taking me by surprise and causing a state of last minute panic. I used to be organised, I used to have every last detail planned with military precision.... but no longer it seems. There is only twenty one days left now until the zero hour and I am apparently completely incapable of getting my mind into any semblance of Christmas order whatsoever. It's just coming way too soon and I'm not ready for it, at all!

Not so much as a card has been purchased let alone written, our brief endeavour at getting a tree fell into disarray within minutes when we both lost patience with the pushing and shoving hordes of a Sunday afternoon's retail delight and try as I might, I am utterly clueless and without inspiration as to what might be provided as gifts for one and all. Despite hours surfing the interweb for ideas and scanning pages of glossy catalogues that promise to solve all my present problems I have achieved nothing, nada, zip!

I suspect, this year, as last, the situation will only be resolved by a week or two more of blind panic, of trying to shoe-horn myself into the Christmas spirit and then finally, with only a day or two left, making a mad and protracted dash around Milton Keynes shopping mall and spending way too much money because nothing suitable in the gift line is ever within pre-defined budgets! That of course will then be followed by mad dash number two, the one to get all the wrapping and bow tying done and the cards delivered by hand, because of course, I will also have missed the final posting dates!

A final bout of festive panic and mayhem will then doubtless ensue when the sudden realisation hits me that I have forgotten a gift for someone or am missing another item of utmost importance for the (tongue firmly in cheek) 'perfect Christmas experience'..... at a point only hours from having to look cool, collected, serene and full of Christmas cheer and joy!

Panic, panic, panic.

Bah bloody humbug!

Afghanistan - The ultimate price

The politics of war are complicated, doubtless if they weren't the conflicts would not be conflicts in the first place and no matter which war or where, whether the reasons are valid in our opinion or whether we agree or disagree with the principles of an individual situation, one thing doesn't ever change..... and that is simply that the guys and gals out there at the sharp end, and their families back home, show immense courage and fortitude, regardless of their own political views.

These are the people we depend on to face the dangers and hardships when we agree with the reasons for a given conflict and as such they deserve our support just the same when we don't. We live in a democracy and whilst I'm not naive about how much of a democracy it actually is, it is the one we have and it beats many other options.

Those serving in war zones have no more choice in where they serve and why they find themselves in a particular place than the rest of us do and as such, regardless of the politics we should be proud of their efforts and of their bravery, maybe even more so for just that reason, they have no choice in where they serve but they serve nonetheless with the same courage and skill regardless of their personal feelings.

Situations such as have occurred in the UK recently, where service personnel, far from being able to show pride, have been advised not to wear uniform in public because of the risk of assault in showing publicly that they are members of the armed forces, I find utterly repulsive and appalling! Yes, they make the choice to serve but not the choice as to where they serve. and we should be proud of our service men and women and those of our allies because it is they, not you or I or the politicians in their ivory towers, that face the true horrors of war and it is they, not us who pay the ultimate price.


Rest in peace CPT Rob Yllescas.

How do you make a hormone?

Don't pay her! Ha!

Sorry, very poor joke but I couldn't resist and there has to be a lighter side to the whole middle years thing than my current state of hormonal madness!

Hormones, who'd have 'em!? The damn things are the bane of my recent life. When we are teenagers and our hormones first start kicking ass and are out of kilter we are told merely that 'it will soon pass', it's 'growing up'. What anyone fails to enlighten us on is that once we hit that 'woman of a certain age' phase in life, things are only going to get a whole lot worse.

Now then you guys, I know it's not all fun and rosy for you being on the receiving end of all this nonsense, you take your fair share of the flak, let's face it, we women can be something of a confusion when we are in, shall we say, a more stable state of hormonal balance so we must be almost impossible to fathom when we lose the chemical balance plot, hell, I can't understand myself let alone expect someone else too much of the time but that said, a little more understanding and a little less derogatory comment and hilarity would be good! ;o)

For me these recent months have suddenly become pretty 'hormonally challenged', gone are the times of a few days mental and physical uproar prior to a period and then happy relief, instead they have been replaced with weeks of the damn carry on and if I'm lucky I might manage a few days break before the whole emotional and physical malarkey begins again. Gone too is any semblance of order or regularity, replaced instead with a completely haphazard timetable of symptoms that mostly just don't have the good grace to bugger off for long at all.

So, next time you guys scathingly make reference to hormones or laugh at our stupidity, you might like to consider trying to live your daily life with a permanent bad skin and hair day, pains in your joints, your abdomen and your thighs, adhoc bruises about your person where a sudden bout of hormonal clumsiness caused you to lose all sense of spatial awareness and bump into things like Mr Blobby on acid, feeling too cold one minute and too damn hot the next, the headache from hell for weeks at a time, feeling like your are about to get a bout of the flu, permanently, retention of enough water to make an adventure trek across the Sahara a distinct possibility and worst of all, fluctuating from feeling angry to weepy at a seconds notice and then back again, for absolutely no reason at all!

Ok, ok I know it sounds pretty funny and weird but the women among you will know where I'm coming from only too well and I'm sure I'm not the only one frustrated by feeling so dysfunctional and out of control. In real terms it is pretty life altering at times, there are things I really could not consider trying to do in this condition because I know I wouldn't be safe, driving for instance, with no spatial awareness takes some degree of courage or stupidity and has to be considered carefully before being undertaken!

So, this is not a 'you don't understand us' whinge, more a little plea for some understanding or sympathy when we apparently behave like we lost all sense of cognitive thought and an acceptance that the phrases along the lines of 'oh, it must be that time of the month again' or 'it's just your hormones' aren't very helpful! Oh, and our ability to think is not affected....just our reaction to that thinking....and yes, I know, what a reaction it is sometimes!

I wouldn't like to be on the receiving end of it that's for sure, but I would prefer it, I suspect, to being on the end I am! All this and for what? I didn't even get to make any use of my damnable reproductive system!

And don't please, anyone suggest HRT...I'm not allowed, my family medical history makes it not an option.

Me? Bad tempered? Perish the thought. Chocolate! where's the freakin chocolate!

Christmas is coming....

.....and the goose is getting fat, or not, you are completely uninspired where gift buying is concerned, your cards remain in a dark corner somewhere in a still unwritten heap, your tree hasn't yet ventured from the loft where you put it on twelfth night last time around..... and your blog desperately needs it's Christmas look, if only you had the time!

So, gemmak designs to the rescue, no faff no fiddle, I will take care of the whole blog thing for you. Just choose from one of the 'ready to wear' Christmas designs or order a bespoke Christmas look, and like magic it shall be done, all from a starting price of just £12 or $18 at current rates.

How easy could it be? I'll even host the images and return you to normal after the festive season is over all in the price.... and if you are looking for an inspired gift for a blogging friend, what more could they ask than a gemmak designs gift certificate?!