The Autumn Project

Never a one to shy away from a tough task, Wavey decided that the greenhouse in the big big garden needed to be moved from where it currently lives (under a giant tree and not getting any light) to a new very sunny location. This way we can actually use it rather than say, hmmm, we have a greenhouse. But it's battered and therefore useless. As per usual we've been super busy but we decided that it would be our Autumn Project. Actually we have several projects planned for Autumn and they're either outdoor (said greenhouse) or indoor (painting our bedroom and the kitchen, and possibly building some shelves in the study for our growing library). Today was the start. Below you'll see a pic of said battered greenhouse.



Our only plan for today was to remove all the glazing and pile it up into: keep, discard, and keep for roof. I hadn't realised that Wavey had thought this task was going to be, in his words, a total bugger. Me, I was all excited as I can't wait to be able to grow from seed and get some really yummy veg for next year. We set to and within no time at all we were down to the bare frame:

Success!

I have no idea how long it will take us to actually complete, but it's always good to have a challenge.

I hope you all had a lovely summer. Our's seemed to utterly fly by and it really wasn't all that. Work is rubbish for both of us and it's just beyond dreary reading about other people's work woes. And we had Wavey's sis stay with us for 6 weeks (6!) which was often trying times. But as we approach the new season and head into brrrr shivery Winter I'm hoping for better times for all. And a promise to try and blog more!

See you soon!

Outdoor pursuits

Last week it was T's birthday and she decided that what she really really wanted to do was to go to the outdoor activity centre where her hubby works, invite all of us and let us 'play' around on all the stuff. I don't know what's wrong with a nice meal and a few drinks, but hey, when it's someone's birthday they get to decide. Them's the rules and they must be obeyed.

The very idea of this whole thing filled me with absolute horror. The centre where G (the hubby) works was one where all children who grew up round where I did had to go when they were 9 and 10. Some of those kids absolutely loved it. But not me. I had the worst time ever. I was one of those kids who never went anywhere without my teddy so he came to camp with me. And someone thought it would be really funny to steal him away from me. I was utterly traumatised. I remember lots of tears and even more lots of wishing desperately that I could just go home to my mam and dad. By breakfast the next day I'd just got over one trauma and I had to endure another. We were heading out on this big walk so we had to eat all our breakfast and weren't allowed to leave the table until we had. Including sloppy slurpy grilled tomato which nearly made me sick. So grand experience for me there then...

Driving there on Sunday all was well until we reached the drive. As we headed down there I started feeling sick and my legs were shaking with fear. I kid you not. I was utterly crapping myself at the whole thing. I was so far out of my comfort zone that I needed a whole new zone. Standing at the bottom of the climbing wall watching everyone else just buzz up there, seemingly without fear...I was nearly crying with terror. I felt like such an idiot. But a determined one. Cos no matter how scared I was, I was bloody determined that I was going up that wall, even if I did fall off and make myself look like a total eejit. Luckily I have very understanding peeps, so when I begged that they all go away so that there was only me, and T&G, they were brilliant and left us to it.

And so it was. I was harnessed and roped. And facing the wall like it was a death squad wall! Deep breath, big gulp, approach wall. One foot off the ground. Two feet off the ground. Arms moving up. Feet moving up. I was there! I was on the wall! And I wasn't falling. I wasn't crying. I was actually...could it be...was this really enjoyment? Legs quaking like jelly, I proceeded my way up, with very supportive shouts and placement hints all my way up two thirds of the wall. I didn't quite get to the top like I'd wanted to. But I did it. And I was so proud of myself! Big beaming smile of pride. Here's a pic of me in action:




As I was brought down by G and touched ground I whooped with joy! T rushed over to give me a big hug and my pride literally (this sounds so cheesy) but it surged out of me in total joy! I never thought I'd do it, I couldn't believe I had done it. I was shaking like a leaf and my heart was pounding, but by golly she did it chaps!

From that point on there was no stopping me. Abseiling was next. LOVED it! Had to go twice in fact cos I liked it so much and actually stopped halfway down and asked how to bounce. Another action shot below:



There's another shot of me below doing archery too:



All in all it was a really great day. I texted T&G when I got home to thank them so much. Especially as they were so very kind to me, knowing how scared I was, they were really brilliant and helped me overcome all that fear. It's been a couple of days now and I know you shouldn't indulge too much, but I'm still so proud of myself. I'd packed into my bag, my book and a picnic blanket and secretly thought that all I'd be doing was watching from the ground whilst everyone got on with the fun stuff. It's good to surprise yourself sometimes...

Party virgin

A few weeks ago Wavey and I were all snuggled up on the sofa chitting the chat, pondering this, thinking about that, when all of a sudden, TING! Why don't we have us a party! Well that was it, once the idea was set in motion I was all happy excited land as I truly do love a party.

Growing up in my parentals' very sociable house, we were the party kings of our street. Over the years the tales have become legendary and much excitement was always abound when party plans were made. I think one of the most memorable for me was my ma and pa's silver wedding anniversary bash. The drink was a-flowing, peeps were very drunk, what's that I see out the corner of my eye...is that actually my mother doing a wheelbarrow with our neighbour over the road...oh my lordy-lou she really is doing that - yikes! Hee! It was family tradition that we'd stagger down the stairs the following morning and eat left over sausage rolls. Why are there always sausage rolls left over? Hmmmm.

When I got my own place it was always my intention to carry on the tradition and I did just that. I had my first party 10 days after moving in. And thus it followed, that my house too became the party house. So really, to wait 8 months after moving in with Wavey to have a party was really rather a long time.

Preparations were going well. We'd made a list, done the shopping, there was enough booze and food to sink a ship and its small army. Wavey and I were chatting in bed the night before when he admitted something to me. Something really really serious. That at his grand old (hehe) age he had never had a party. Yep, NEVER. I was aghast! How could this be? I asked him again, just to make sure, but he reassured me that he was indeed a party virgin. Wowsers! So not only was this 'our' first party as a couple, it was also his very first party ever ever ever! Not too much pressure there then...

Luckily Wavey picked me as the first person to have a party with as clearly I am well qualified. It all went extremely well. We had a couple of family peeps coming, which was incredibly nice of them as they effectively did a 400 mile round trip in order to come and play. They turned up at 1pm. The last people drunkenly staggered out of our house just after midnight. Safe to say, that at 11 hours, Wavey's first party experience as host was a good'un! But you know what? Someone ate all the sausage rolls so there was none left for breakfast! It just wasn't the same eating a nice toasted bagel...

Bad shoes and general confusion

Phew! What a couple of weeks! And the 2 main themes for these weeks are bad bad shoes and big confusion. Might as well go in some kind of order so first up it's the shoes. Perhaps it's because I've been lusting after the pair that I blogged about a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe it's because 2 more pairs of my much loved, well battered shoes have had to go the way of the shoe graveyard. Maybe I should just say it like it is and admit that I spend a lot of time looking at shoes, be they on people's feet, on the interwebby, or in pretty shoe shops. The alarming trend that I have noticed though is one for bad shoes. Actually bad doesn't cover it. Butt ugly is how I sum up most of the pairs. Seriously shoe wearing people, what are you doing?

For those that are not sure, in Dizz World, butt ugly shoes basically means any of the following:

• plain old boring black shoes
• plain old boring black shoes that have clumpy soles/heels
• shoes that fasten with velcro (are we 5?!)
• clumpy shoes that are clearly too heavy for your way too skinny legs so get some feckin' decent shoes that you can lift up and/or eat some pies whilst you're at it
• hooker shoes (they might be pretty colours and bling but you look like you belong on the streets)
• any shoe or boot (especially boot!) that is baby pink. These really only belong on babies and even then, questionable, what's wrong with a dash of red or funky purple for the wee babes?

There's probably a million more but that's all I can think of for now. The butt ugly shoes that disturb me the most are worn by women in power. You ladies earn lots of money, you really should be wearing lovely lovely shoes. Personally, if I am ever a woman in power and earning lots of those pretty pennies I will look so fabulous that people won't care if I'm crap at managing or whatever, they'll just be overwhelmed by my fabulous wardrobe. And jelly of my shoes. Probably Christian Laboutins with the oh so pretty red sole and fierce 6 inch heels...and my Jimmy Choos...and my Manolos...what was that? Pension? Pah! Pretty shoes are so much more desirable than thinking about being old! So look out, if I'm frowning whilst looking at your feet you'll know that the phrase butt ugly is being thought.

And so to the confusion. The major confusion came from watching Inception. I'd been looking forward to it sooooo much. But it didn't live up to my expectations. This is mainly because I (still!) don't have a clue what actually happened! It was so confusing. And whizzy. And dizzy-fying, very hard to watch with my poor Dizz ears. A lot of it was me kind of slammed back up against the seat praying for the motion to stop. Wavey and I kept leaning over and saying, do you know what's going on? No. Do you? And so on until the end. When we still didn't understand. I tried looking up what it all meant on the web but there were so many theories out there that I started to get confused by them too! So I give up. If anyone wants to explain, please do. My overwhelming thought the whole time I was watching was: that Marion Cotillard, she's got lovely hair she has...

Lost and found

It's amazing what can be found on library shelves these days...

(Thanks to Cat for the photo)

Just a few random Saturday observations and thoughts...

It will always amaze me how many people stand by an empty desk just cos it has a sign on saying HELP POINT...

To be called "Love" as your first name is pretty damned cool...

From the vantage point of my desk I can see that the sun is actually shining a wee bit. Which makes it a bit of a bummer to be at work...

This weekend overtime is no longer a cushie number. Don't get me wrong, I'm not moaning, but we really work for our money now!

Re-introducing myself to Pilates has really motivated me exercise wise. This week I did 2 Pilates sessions and 1 badminton session and I've loved every minute of it. This is not at all normal for me. It's such a good feeling, I knew I was getting a smidge on the chunky side, so it's great to see visible changes and enjoy clothes that were bordering on snug now actually fitting as they're supposed to. Maybe this exercise lark isn't so bad after all...

I really should just ignore Amazon book reviews. I occasionally find myself drifting into them and invariably disagree with what they say and then just get annoyed. I do believe however, that the people who reviewed my current book must have been reading something completely different cos it really ain't all that!

It was so very nice to enjoy a tv-free evening last night. I really do despise that flick flick flick flick thing. Hurts my brain.

And finally, this will come as no surprise: I am starving!!!

Parental guidance

We looked after Wavey's 3 grotbags yesterday. They get really excited about coming to visit Grandad and Dizz cos obviously I am so incredibly cool and we do loads of fun stuff with them - such as baking cakes and piling them high with coloured icing (never eat anything they make, I've seen them not wash their hands after licking cake mixture off them, yack!), building giant castles and fortresses out of huge cardboard from the wardrobes, showing them how to curl paper (best invention ever, or so you would have thought from their faces!), yesterday we made old treasure maps by soaking paper in cold tea to age it then hanging it out to dry until it was ready for X marks the spot...fun stuff like that.

What is not fun is when they decide that they're going to play a game. And Wavey and I will be the mum and dad...erm, sorry, what? It's not such a big deal for Wavey as obviously he is already a dad or he wouldn't be able to be a grandad, but me? I have never been a mum and never intend to be either, so when some small child comes running over to you shouting mum mum mum we need you to come into the clubhouse and play, it is to be frank, shit scary! Several long relaxing breaths later I was calm again. Until she came back and did it again! Come on! Is she trying to torture me, cos if so, she's doing a really good job of it! Yikes! Cripes! And a holy mother effin fook for good measure! Later they got bored and decided we were playing mermaid kingdom instead, at which point I was relegated to big sis *insert huge sigh of relief here*

It's an odd thing though. That little word is said the world over by millions of kids, hell I said it myself and still do to my own mother. But to suddenly find yourself promoted to that...sheesh. Fizz observed yesterday how it's funny (but not funny ha-ha) how I, the person who has always been very honest and open about not wanting children, often finds myself surrounded by the little buggers! Don't get me wrong, I love kids, they're brilliant fun and they have excellent games to play, but they're only fun when you can give them back. The classic example was yesterday when grotbag number 3 got woken up before his naptime had really ended and he proper sulked, like sitting in the middle of the rug with his head down crying and whining and finally whimpering (but only when he checked to see if anyone was looking) for a whole hour! It was hideous. We did what all parents probably do in the face of such awkwardness and simply walked away and left him to it. I have a huge admiration for people (I think they call them parents) who deal with that kinda shit 24/7. Seriously, I would be demented. Like climbing the walls crazy. How do you do it?!

Suffice it to say that each time I spend time looking after other people's children, all it succeeds in doing is reinforcing my already firm opinion that it's not for me. Or as summed up by Wavey's sis at the end of yesterday: that day was the best advertisement for birth control.

I shall however end with a little advice. If you too want to make ye olde fashioned treasure map it's best to use 2 pegs when you hang it out to dry in the sun or the paper goes all curly and you have to try and smooth it back down without cracking it, tis a tricky old life sometimes...