The year that we did!

It hardly seems like 5 minute ago since I was posting about how 2011 was going to be the year of the do. Now it's the last day of 2011 and I think it's safe to say that we definitely did! 

We had holidays. Lots of them. In many beautiful and amazing places that I can bring back in the blink of an eye:

We had a glamourous Mad Men cocktail party where the gals wore frocks and the boys wore tuxedos and we drank drinks of every colour:

 I hosted a Mad Hatter's afternoon tea party and raised over £100 for the Eve Appeal charity:

We got all dressed up and wore hats and went to the races to celebrate T's 30th birthday:

I acted like an eejit in a tent:

 We attended a nostalgia weekend and saw some amazing cars:

 We grew some mighty fine veg!

 Built a raft!

Wavey had his first ever real Christmas tree:

But most of all, we did the best thing in the world. We laughed and loved with the peeps we love to love and love to laugh with:

 Happy new year! Here's to 2012...

Down with the kids...

...cos we're so reem apparently. Well it was one of the cases that I considered for my new souped up chop shop crackberry. The old one was apparently completely booogered and so they've sent me a replacement. Except the one I had was red, a wee little redberry, and they've sent me a black one. But I had to keep the back of my old one so I'm half black, half red, and still with one of the berries missing. Not that this bothers me one jot, I'm so not precious about what my things look like, erm hello I carried a purse held together with a scruffy old hair bobble for about 2 years and I spend most of my life in shoes that have holes in them, nyeh.

But as Wavey has a black blackberry too we need to make them look different hence the seeking out of new cases. I did consider the reem one mainly because I had no idea what it actually meant and figured something that said "keep calm and stay reem" is so what I need to carry around in my bag. Or not. So I went for the one with big goggly eyes on it, heee!

It's exciting times to be back in the 21st century. Except that I can't quite figure out how to get facebook back on it, but I do have all my free chat back up and running. Woo hoo! I have been proper outraged that I've had to pay to talk to people, pay! I mean, say what?! So last century! 

Best of all is that the guy telling me to backup actually gave good advice as all my contacts were still inside the phone when I restored it. Big relief. Has been good to recognise who messages are from now rather than me asking, who are you and why are you texting me? 


It's been a reet busy old day in Dizz and Wavey land. We've been back at my old house a-glossing up a storm ready for the new year project. Hope you've all had good days :D

Stepping out

Wavey, ever the one who worries about jobs and tasks, decided that today was the day to mend the fence. We've had several storms of very high winds that have bashed our garden around good and proper. Of course today is another day of high winds so it's the perfect time to fix the fence. Most of my task was basically hanging onto it for dear life and keeping it straight (you ever tried that when the wind is buffeting you from all directions? Tricky I tells ya!) oh and realising that we needed some longer screws. Our village is very well equipped with a fab little hardware shop that has screws of every kind you can desire in little tubs for very cheap prices. So I trek off down there. In my paint splattered jeans, paint splattered hoodie and muddy wellies...only a few folk looked at me as if to say WTF is she wearing. What's the problem? Garden chic is the look I was totally going for...

Anyhoo the fence is now fixed and I've risked pegging out some washing with double the number of pegs in the hope that it dries in the blustery winds (understatement). I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have to keep an eye on the washing or our duvet cover and pillowcases will be flying through the air all the way to Oz. 

Still got a few more days left of the holidays, but Wavey has big plans for starting on my old house (a whole other blog story). Yawn, I just wanna be lazy but he's such a task master! I've no doubt we will set about doing all these jobs cos we just can't help ourselves...over and out.

Ho ho grrrrr Merry Christmas!

Santa came! He really did, we must have been good boys and girls as we got some really rather fine and dandy presents including a tripod for Wavey to play with his camera and a purple "ice" watch for me, yay! 

But I think it's safe to say that Wavey's favourite present was these:

He's yet to take them off, he loves them so much. 


And I got a chef's blowtorch! So basically I can't wait until I can get into the kitchen and start setting things on fire all in the name of gourmet food.

As we didn't deviate from Delia the day ran very smoothly indeedy. Nothing broke, the turkey was marvellous, the parsnips were a smidge caramelised but the rest of the dinner was really yummy, and Delia's mincemeat and apple crumble was a deeeeelicious alternative to Christmas pud. But there must be some kind of family curse cos my sister's boiler broke! But as she has kiddies they get priority service so it should be getting fixed in a couple of days, and it's actually kinda mild outside, we're not buried underneath snow our freezing our asses off in minus temperatures, so heating is not really needed that much. 


Anyhoo, hope you all had festive and happy times. Merry Christmas 2011!

Old faithful

The last 36 hours:
Early am - last minute shopping:
"In practice this means sallying forth for the freshest vegetables (sprouts, leeks, parsnips, onions, carrots, celery, swede, potatoes) and fruit...because they need to last over the whole holiday. Everyone else will be doing the same of course so do get out early..."

Bugger! Already failed :( this year I was promising to be faithful to Delia so that she wouldn't send her little elves to blow up the boiler/oven/insert electrical appliance choice here. So far I've had a lazy breakfast, had a shower, and decided on my outfit of the day to have lunch with the lovely Tizz and Fizz.

So, 11.22am (would Delia count this as early?) and I'm having a cuppa and considering making some pastry for mince pies. At least the turkey has arrived (timetabled for mid-morning) and I do intend to make the soup and prepare the veggies tomorrow which is actually a day behind schedule...how does this woman do it?! But at 3pm tomorrow I can spend some quality time baking and singing Christmas carols...no wait, we've just re-read it and if I do those things today I'm actually ahead of schedule! Wooooo! However, I'm thinking that crowing about it is not the best plan or the elves will blow something up for sure. 

Please Delia, please be kind. My folks are coming for dinner and the last time they did the boiler broke and we had to huddle round the fire and wear vests for warmth...please let us have this one with no broken appliances! 

Merry merry

Santa's little elves spent 3 hours this morning experiencing a small lull in proceedings. Then they spent 1 hour rushing around like loons as everyone decided to panic that libraryland is going to be closed for the deeeeliciously long time of 11 and a half days. The extra half made all the difference as it meant that Santa's little elves could go to the pub, eat toasties with chips, and drink real ale amongst lovely friends. 

Santa's little elf left the pub to head to nasty cheapo "Foneshop" (has to be spelled like that) in order to purchase a cheap and nasty "fone" thus allowing the world to be in contact once again, yay! (the broken Crackberry has finally gone off to be repaired but I can't see it being back in the elf mitts until at least the new year). For one week I was without phone and it was surprisingly okay, until the last couple of days when I really needed to make contact with peeps and had no way of doing it other than horrible nasty public phone boxes that are: a) very tricky to find these days, b) smell like wee, and c) cost 60p just to dial a frickin number - WTF?! After experiencing partial meltdown yesterday I decided it was time to say enough of this nonsense, hence the trip to the "foneshop" A gal's gotta have her peeps, that's all I'm saying. 

Santa's little elf then went to the magic sausage shop to buy the very much required chippolata sausages that have to be wrapped in yummy bacon and charred til they are black, to go with the giant turkey that is now living in our fridge.

Finally Santa's little elf returned home to mucho jumping around for joy and full of merry merry festive spirit and anticipation of the next 11.5 days that don't involve work, alarms, public transport hell, battling with elbowing panic shoppers, and other general madness that is this time of year. Happy holidays y'all!

Howling wolf

Next door had a really really big really really smelly dog that used to live outside all year round. Suddenly we don't see the really really big really really smelly dog, instead we see a little stone with his name on it in the garden. Oh oh and we are sad. Really really big really really smelly dog has been replaced by howling wolf. Oww oww owwwwwwwww on constant play. Either someone is playing a really sick joke and has this on a record or they have a new dog that how-how-howwwwwwwwwwls all the time. We reckon it might be a puppy who misses its owner how-how-howwwwwwwwwwww or it might be an older dog that we didn't know existed who misses the really really big really really smelly dog. 

Either way, we wake up to the how-how-howwwwwwwww, it accompanies us through the day and takes us to bed how-how-howwwwwwwwwwww. 

Maybe I'm noticing it more today because I'm feeling really really blah. We were supposed to be at a family pre-Christmas gathering, but instead we had to cry off for fear I would either hurl in the car on the way there, or hurl when we got there as some kind of sick welcome and merry merry to you *barf* Whatever, it ain't a good look to be taking to the family. Have got heaps planned for this week, many merry gatherings, I shall be totally and utterly gutted if all plans have to go the way of today. In fact, I'll join in with next door, all together now, how-how-howwwwwwwwwwww.

One week to go...

...and the sparkley lights and tinsel are out. We LOVE the decorations we do!

And this little guy goes all the way back to when me and my sis were tiny tots with our eyes all aglow:

Merry Merry folks!

The Gaga on speed...?

On hold Saturday

It seems like I've spent most of today on hold on various telephones listening to many different varieties of awful muzak. Barf and double barf. And was I successful in my on hold ventures? Was I arse! I ended up giving up several times and even *hangs head in shame* had total petulant full on strop after waiting 15 minutes and getting nowhere, slammed the phone down once, which didn't feel satisfying enough so did it another 3 or 4 times all the while shouting and ranting and general ridiculousness like that. Totally proud of myself there...

I hasten to add that there wasn't anyone on the end of that line. Just a stupid automated voice that kept telling me my call really was important to them and if I just stayed on hold and spent several more pounds on their 0845 number...NO! Stop! Don't get started again. I don't want to throw anything else around. 

The rest of the day has flown by in a whirr of activity. We were up and about bright and early. I went and had my eyebrows ripped off whilst Wavey went and secured our Christmas turkey and bought some yummy sausage rolls for mid-morning snack. Then we went round to my old house and picked up post and did a bit more checking out and making mental lists of jobs. Then we dropped off post for someone else, then we went and collected various parcels, came home and demolished yummy sausage roll with a cup of magic coffee, next up we went to the Funky Rug Shop (great name, even greater shop) and bought, well, a funky rug for the horrid purple room as was (will be posting some after shots once it's fully finished), Wavey's been and helped out taking old bits of carpet to the tip, I've been to the supermarket and braved the teeming crowds at the till points and now I'm blogging. Sheesh! It's not even 4pm and look how much we've achieved. Surely a pat on the back is well deserved!

Oh and guess what? It's Fizz's birthday and I know I'm not supposed to say anything but yada yada boo is what I say. And this is what else I say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FIZZ, me old mucker. 

May your day be merry and happy and cake filled. MWAH! XxX

Deck the halls with tack

Today was officially put up the Christmas decorations day at work. And we have some truly awful decorations. I blogged about a couple of them last year but we seem to have excelled ourselves this year with the sad, old, very out of date tack. Here's a few photos for you to enjoy:

And just when you thought you were safe from the dead birds, the one I had on my desk last year has been joyously returned to me for safe keeping. It's not a great photo but you may be able to see that his evil beady eye is starting to peel away from the face giving it that extra eeek-factor...

Christmas tack - it truly makes being at work more bearable at this time of year.

A Thursday Christmas song

On the 8th day of Christmas my true love gave to me a visit to the local toy emporium (also known as hell on earth):

Or more accurately, Wavey and I wandering down random isles calling out: puzzles? Moshi Monsters? Hex bugs? Me randomly pressing buttons on things that say push me, try me and trying to decide if £31 is only a tiny bit outrageous for a pogo stick that more resembles a trim ball (remember them anyone?!) with a stick attached to it. 

We <3 the toys we do...

A London Christmas song

On the first day of Christmas, London gave to me, a lovely walk upon a chilly canal:

On the second day of Christmas, London gave to me, 2000 Santas running:

On the third day of Christmas, London gave to me, a Christmas market on the Southbank:

On the fourth day of Christmas, London gave to me, a fabby weekend with the gorgeous Tizz:

That London - it rocks! 

Stay tuned for more Christmas songs and photos...

Imelda got a WOOOOO!

Wavey and I went to see Imelda May last night. It was, I have to say, one of the bestest gigs I have ever been too. She was AMAZING! She played for nearly 2 hours and she has this huge voice that is just awesome, the atmosphere was bouncing, all in all, just wow. Johnny got a Boom! Boom!

Home cinema

Last night Wavey, Fizz and I went to the cinema. But when we got there the film hadn't turned up - eh?! The receptionist tried to sell us the alternative film that they had on offer but the words drinking himself into a stupour and killing his dog were enough to put us all off. Instead we came home and enjoyed a home cinema experience. 

Even though I really love going to the actual cinema you just can't beat the home cinema experience, especially now we have our really big tv, yay! We settled back on our very lovely comfy sofa, feet on the beanbag, red wine in the glass, chocolate cheesecake on the plate, and a bag of Revels on the side for afters. We watched Cemetery Junction which was written by Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant and was actually very very good. Funny, bit of drama, couple of pretty boys, a very pretty girl who had even prettier dresses - better than a drunk killing his dog!

Festive and merry

I can't lie, I totally love Christmas! I love the sparkly lights, the gift giving, the gift receiving, the huge dinners, the brussel sprouts, and all that luscious time off work. Which is why I jumped at the chance to attend a Christmas Fayre at poshy posh hall with my ma. And what a lovely afternoon. Much of it was spent walking round poshy posh hall gawping at the amazing ceilings and the beautiful rooms, so nice!

There was a really good variety of stalls too with everything from jewellery to food and wine and cakes and children's toys and handmade bags that cost £195 (one day...) and bespoke furniture that cost £599, which they can do in any fabric for you madam except silk of course *posh chortle chortle laughter* That was one end of the spectrum, there were some very affordable stalls and I got some lovely presents that are unusual and handmade and that little bit special which is always one of my aims when gift giving. 

There was one stall that had the most fabulous tights on it and I'm a total sucker for tights. I was so excited until I turned them over to find that they cost £33!! Yep £33!! I just laughed out loud, I wasn't sure what else to do. The stall owner immediately came to see if the mad woman laughing out loud needed any assistance near her tights that must surely be made with threads of gold for them to cost that much. Oh they're very good tights she assured me...maybe they are but I'm famous for destroying tights in one wear, imagine how utterly gutted you would be if you paid £33 for a pair of tights only for them to break after one wear. Methinks not.

After such a lovely afternoon listening to carols and wandering around all the lovely stalls I'm feeling very festive. I'm resisting putting the Christmas music on, but not for much longer. It's only a handful of days away now....merry merry yay!

Today's the day

Today is Start Your Own Country Day. How cool! Mine will be called the Federal United Kingdom of Fizztopia.

Girlie girl

I was happily working away at theatre this morning, doing a bit of painting, touching up a bit where we'd missed the other night when someone uttered the dread words "can you just hammer that in for me?" Nooooooo! I am so incredibly utterly pants when it comes to hammering stuff. I inevitably end up bashing my thumb more than the nail I'm trying to hit and am frankly just a total girl about it all. I succeeded at getting 2 nails in without bashing my thumb too much but by the 3rd it was total thumb bash time. The final straw was when the nail pinged out of the piece of hardboard, flew up, and bashed me on the forehead. Owwwwwww. I almost threw down the hammer in a total pouting hissy fit but managed to be grown up about it and placed it on the ground before stomping around declaring how useless I am at hammering!

Luckily the next option was a staple gun that you plug in. Awesome! It wasn't all plain sailing, took at least 5 staples before one got all mangled up inside and we had to take it apart. I only had to do that 3 more times before the job was done. Or so I thought. Oh just cut that gaffer tape in half....the stickiest tape ever! Thankfully a kind hearted soul came to my rescue and told me to stick the tape to the side of an aluminium ladder and slice it with a knife - genius! What with that, laying some lino, and the hanging of the door, I think I managed to re-gain some of my lost pride from the hammer incident. 

The thing of it is, I'm such a girl when it comes to stuff like that. I can use the whizz whizz screwdrivers and can even drill a hole or two as long as it's not too complicated, but hammering, sawing, slicing, dicing, and all the other stuff we do, not a chance! I'm far too clumsy to be let loose with a saw of any kind. Some of the tools we have are downright scary and I always avoid. But I'm super good at holding bits of wood whilst people saw stuff. And I am a demon painter. But power tools and me? Nope. Total girl.

Thank &%£$ it's Friday!

The official work week from hell finally came to a close at 5 in the PM this evening. Happy weekend! 

First up Wavey and I headed to the toon for some even bigger bargains in the bargain spectacular. We shopped, we got a free cup of coffee, we ate a yummy mince pie, and we got heaps of bargains. Since then the evening has gone something like this:


Pizza
Chips
Beer
Cake
Biscuit
"Big Bang Theory"
Cup of tea
"The Hour"
Cocktails
"Made in Chelsea"
Cup of tea
"Pan Am" 


Summing up, we've eaten like pigs, we've drunk until we're a smidge tipsy, and we've caught up on some quality telly. Weekends are definitely the BEST THING EVER!

You're terrible Muriel...

A couple of months ago Wavey and I joined a gym. It's quite an expensive gym and it's really rather snazzy with its 3 different swimming pools, 3 studios, a running track round the outside, and hundreds of machines. Initially we were really good and were going for a swim and going to the gym and doing this and trying this class. You can already see where this is going can't you? 

We have already started to lose interest. This is bad. Very bad. We promised ourselves we would use it as it does cost quite a bit, and that we'd be good and we'd only eat good food. Somehow it never takes very long for all good intentions to fall by the wayside. This is fundamentally because we are fat knackers by nature. We love food, all food, puddings are yummy, icecream pretty much is the cure for all of life's ills, chocolate helps with that too...and biscuits...and definitely cake. And because we eat all that food cos it's so yummy and we often need to cure rubbish days at work by eating yummy icecream, we really need to go to the gym. 

Tonight's the night. We've even shaken hands and agreed that we're going to the gym later on. Even though I'm actually kinda tired and Wavey's been away for the last couple of days doing more jet setting and this is right up there as one of the worst work weeks of all time, it MUST BE DONE! Or else we are terrible people, just like Muriel.

Wisely we only signed up for the minimum time of 6 months because we know that we're terrible at staying motivated. I need me a motivator! Perhaps a picture of some yummy cake and a giant wobbly arse (it's the word of the week!) is the way forward? Get thee to the gym fat knackers! Get thee! 

Evolving a system

There are many reasons why I will never be a manager. The list is long but includes my inability to keep my mouth shut before engaging my brain, lack of any real ambition (particularly in current role), a tendency to wear unsuitably short skirts in my place of work, and lack of any experience that would actually help in such a role. But these are not the biggest reasons. No, the biggest reason is because I could never ever ever ever bring myself to use "management speak". And it seems (again I can only refer to my own place of work here) that as soon as one becomes a manager one must also throw around all these bat shit crazy words that mean absolutely nothing and make most of us cringe inside.

My response to these words? Arse. Total and utter arse. 

To be fair, it's been an utterly rotten day and maybe by tomorrow I won't feel a need to use the word arse quite as much, but today it's been peppered all over my conversations. And with very good reason I might add. I shake my head at the bonkers-ness and wonder again and again how I managed to end up here, with no prospects, and very little hope of finding gainful employment elsewhere (2.62 million unemployed according to today's figures). Best not to dwell really. Ho hum and all that jazz. 

So for tomorrow my main challenge will be how to "evolve a system". And to significantly reduce the number of times I say arse. Best get a few out of the way now then: arse arse arse arse ARSE.

Shop-tastic

I love internet shopping!

I have a really bad memory, so I order something, a few days pass, I forget what I've ordered, then it arrives and I've no idea what's in the parcel. So I rip it open, excited as a 3-year-old, and am always delighted with what's inside. It's like Christmas over and over again. Even better actually, because it's always something I really wanted/needed.

I went a bit mad at the weekend and ordered loads of presents, so they've been arriving in dribs and drabs for the last 3 days. On Monday I had 2 parcels - a barrel of coffee and a ruler. Yesterday I had another two - a rotary cutter and an alarm clock that chirps like a robin. Today I've had 3 (so far) - a self-healing cutting mat, an eco-friendly wooden jigsaw puzzle and another thing I can't mention cos Dizz might guess it's for her. I know when I get my credit card bill I'll be singing a different tune, but right now it fabby-fabtastic fun!

Old...but much loved

This my friends is the very definition of battered:

It may not be evident at first glance but it is actually a purse. My purse to be precise. A once red and shiny and lovely new purse that is now battered, falling to pieces, the cards no longer stay in the slots, the zip is starting to break, and the popper went so long ago it's been held together by an equally battered hair bobble for at least 2 years. For the longest time I've carried on using my purse, not at all ashamed by it being held together by a hair bobble but I always knew there would be a time to say goodbye and I think that time is now. 

It's a good job it's near Christmas as I'm going to ask my sister to buy me a new one. I think I prefer to pass the job along as I'm so reluctant to say farewell to this one. It has truly served me well. I think it was a gift too so it will be nice to replace it with another gift. 

I know of several people who will be utterly thrilled to see my battered old purse go. Not mentioning any names (Miss Cat) but there are some who actually shudder at the sight of my sad old purse. How can something so well loved cause such offense? 

So there you have it. I like to take a picture of these things for the blog so that they continue to live on. Old...but much loved. 

The horrid purple room

Before I begin I'm going to do a quick apology in case anyone reading this has chosen the following colour in any room in their house. Colour is a very personal thing and I in no way mean any offense. I love purple. Just not in a teeny tiny bathroom. 

Now I can begin. When I moved into Wavey's house almost every room was beige apart from this tiny little bathroom that's out the back of the kitchen which was purple. With green ivy stencilled in each corner. And green accessories. Even the ceiling was purple! And so it was dark and dingy and pretty nasty and it was basically used as a storage facility. Since the arrival of the Man Shed last year, a lot of the stuff has been moved and now lives in its rightful place outside and we've been meaning to tackle this little bathroom for ages, bought the paint months ago. I finally decided I was just going to get on and do it. There's really only room for one person in there anyway as it's teeny weeny so tackling it alone wasn't that big a deal. 

When it's finished it's going to be fab. The ceiling will be white. The woodwork will be lovely gloss white and the walls are going to be Lemon Sorbet, a bright bright yellow. I have great faith that it will really open up the space, brighten it up and make it look absolutely fab. And because it's so close to the garden I have a lot of plans to make it a kind of indoor garden space. I know that sounds weird but trust me, it will look faberoony. But when I started this morning it didn't look fab. Grotty radiator, with bits of plasterwork underneath, the strange shade of lilac/purple on every single wall as the photos show below:

A good solid day of work put in later I've put two coats of white on the ceiling, glossed every surface that needed glossing, re-painted the radiator and started on the walls. There's still a lot left to do but already it's looking so much more brillo! I will post a pic when it's finally all done and dusted and you can either enjoy the brightness or scream at the awfulness, cos it really all depends how you feel about yellow. I won't take offense...

Besties!

I had a really exciting phone conversation tonight! My bestie friend from university days was calling to tell me that she's moving. At the moment she lives down in London town which feels like the longest distance away, we only see each other every few months and because we lead such busy lives we're terrible at phoning each other regularly. We text and email and are lucky to be  such great besties that even if we didn't speak for months, hell years even, we would just pick up exactly where we left off and start gossiping and basically not shut up for about, oooh 3 days. So there's the background, now to the news. They're moving up north! I think we both squealed with excitement! 

She will be literally just down the road. Okay slight exaggeration as she's not moving next door (now that would be totally awesome!) but she's going to be so much closer. In the same town as my sister lives actually and we often go over there and come back in the same day. And we'll be able to meet halfway and do ladies days out in like Leeds or York. Basically she and her fabby little family will be so much more in our lives which is just the bestest news for besties ever! And we all get on so well. They've only met Wavey a couple of times when they've been up to stay, but like tonight, he answered the phone and they gossiped for about 10 minutes whilst I sat on the sofa waiting patiently...until I'd had enough of waiting and just went and stood by the phone demanding my turn my turn! 


I'm so incredibly chuffed that I have this huge smile on my face that's been there since the phone call. Yay! Yippee! Woooo to besties making sound decisions like leaving that evil London town and moving back oop north where the great and good live :O)


WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

A dashingly glorious romp in the autumnal Lakes...

...otherwise known as yet another holiday in the Dizz and Wavey calendar. Yes that makes 5 this year. We're not counting but other people are, and we really don't care as we lurve holidays the mostest and the bestest. And here are just a few phone and actual photos to show you why:

The return to reality is hard. Very hard. Needless to say we're already thinking of the destination for the next one...

The one left behind

Wavey is away this week for work in some far off shore. 4 whole days. It's not the first time we've been apart for 4 days, but it is the first time that he's the one doing the away and I'm the one left behind. And I have to say it's...odd. He often tells me when I'm away and I come back how quiet the house is and how dull it is when I'm not here to provide the entertainment *chuckle* And it makes me laugh in a lot of ways that I feel the way I do now, cos I lived on my own for 7 years. 7 years of going home to an empty house, cooking for one, spending evenings alone...but now, after 3 years of being with Wavey and nearly 2 living here with him, being alone is a very strange place to be.

He's right, the house is quiet. And definitely feels a bit like there's something important missing. For a guy who to the outside world is quiet and observant and sometimes a bit shy around new folk, trust me when I say the man can chit the chat. We spend a whole heap of time talking and gossiping and laughing and being daft and stupid and having lots and lots of fun. And this quiet house is most definitely not the way it usually is. 

Today is day 2, so I know it's halfway through. By tomorrow it'll be even better cos then there'll only be one day. And I'm off out for my tea tomorrow with the lovely T and then I'm meeting Fizz at the cinema to see the new SJP film that I've read really awful reviews about but I can't help it, I heart SJP the mostest and just have to see it. Plus it has Christina Hendricks in it and I heart her too. Win win...or just plain awful, we'll see and report back if you're really lucky. Happy times with my buds. 

But I tell you what, I can't wait til Thursday evening when Wavey walks back through the door...the smile on my face then will be fit to bursting!

Crafty

Dizz came round to do some top-secret crafting. She made a ****** and I made a dragon fly.

For some reason Dizz laughed outrageously when I showed her the first stages. Can't imagine why.

A whole lotta nothing

This, my friends, is an empty week. A whole lotta nothing. And it's been absolutely blooming wonderful! Don't get me wrong, I love our busy lives muchly but sometimes, a whole week stretching ahead with absolutely nothing in the diary is a delicious feeling. Turned out that we still did a whole heap of stuff, but it was all on the spur of the moment with no forward planning needed. Fancy going for a swim after tea? Then lets do it. Fancy popping to the Farmers Market in town? Then lets do that too! Shall we go to the cinema tonight? Let's see how we feel after we've eaten our wild boar, ginger and leek sausages with piles of mash and yummy veggies. 

Next week we're back to the usual busy-ness, but for the rest of today and tomorrow? We'll just see what we feel like doing. Yippee-yay! 

If one sentence summed up my average day at work...

..."a mad expense of days unspooling in the dimness in Periodicals"

I like that, I do. 

Thanks to Edmund de Waal in The Hare with Amber Eyes. 

Not again!

My hairdresser told me this morning that my current hair colour is in danger yet again of becoming so popular that every other person has it in the street. And apparently it's all because of this lady above. She's from The Only Way is Essex or TOWIE as it's commonly known, the latest reality tv that everyone is hooked on (doesn't even compare to my fave: Made in Chelsea). I literally wailed noooooooo. 

Last time my hair colour became really popular, I knew it was time to change when a woman got on the bus in her pyjamas and slippers with the same hair colour....there's not really a lot else you can say to that is there? 

So now what? What colour do I go now? This cannot be happening again. Why can't people be original? Bugger.

Fit for superheroes

A while back I blogged about my latest shoe lust of a pair of red Nike hi-tops and how I was selling items in order to raise the funds to buy them...well after all that effort, turns out you can't get red ones anymore! And the only ones I've seen now are either black or grey (bor-ring), shiny (eep!), or like pimped up versions of them with all sorts of hideous neon colours. Ugh. So no shoes. Oh dear what is a girl to do...? 

Well first of all she can use some of the £69 I raised to buy some fancy dancy face moisturiser that cost rather a lot of money but is oh so lucious and makes my skin feel all yummy scrummy and is full of natural and organic ingredients. And then she can decide that if she can't have shoes, she can instead have a fabby new coat. A coat that is in the shape of a cape. A coat fit for superheroes! After much-o looking around to find a rather nice one, I spotted a lovely black cape coat this very evening and have just put my order in for it super speedy. Am very excited! 

I'm normally a get your hands on it straightaway type of gal but I've spent a while looking around for one of these coats cos I think the balance is tricky. Too much cape and you're in danger of looking like Batman or a fallback from the 70s and not in a good way. But this one I've picked is very laydee-like. I went for black, the safe option cos I wear a whole heap of bright colours everywhere else. It has a high collar and is double breasted and fastens with a belt. And is actually quite short, just falling nicely onto to the top of the hips (in the photos). Can't wait to get my hands on it now to model it and strut around in it to make sure it feels good, you know, that kind of thing. 

As I know this is actually coming and it's not just an image I found on the interwebby and will turn out to be unobtainable, I promise I shall post a piccie of me in said cape coat, strutting my stuff for the camera. Yippee! 

Happy weekend, lovelies!

Yuck barf eep and eek!

It's not the first time I've blogged about my fascinating (read god-awful) bus journeys and I'm sure it won't be the last but this past week has been like some kind of uber-hell for shocking bus experiences. As I'm a very kind person I thought I'd share them with you. 

First up, don't know what's going on or where all the people have come from, but what the eff? Over the summer the buses were blissfully empty, no rotten school kids, no uni students, no college peeps, hardly anyone in fact. But in the last 2 weeks it's like the people are just breeding and each bus journey the bus is more and more full. Of course the company never learns and considers putting on a double decker or better yet investing in those bendy buses that they have like everywhere else in the world. Oh no that would be too kind. Let's instead just CRAM the whole world of bus people into one teeny tiny tightly packed sardine tin. Oh happy days. 

Then let's throw in some horrible smelly boys who think it's totally okay to fart at will. And frequently so that the whole of the bus is almost gasping for breath in the toxic swill. 

Or let's cram so many people on so that the standing up peeps have nowhere to put their stuff so that Dizz gets rucksack in face all the way there...

...again the day after that one but this time a man's crotch in my face all the way there.

And speaking of the crotch area, it seems that some yack awful men seem to be confused and think that your hand holding on for dear life to the rail has been put there in life for them to blatantly rub themselves up against you as they go past *shudder shudder shudder*

And all this my friends was in just one week. I know of at least 2 other peeps I work with who have suffered similar fates and have had to email the bus company. This is seriously not on bus folk - what are you going to do about it?! I suggested at work that we all contribute some pennies and save up and buy our own bus. We can take it in turns to drive and pick everyone up on the way. It would be like every morning and every evening would be a work trip out. It'd be pretty awesome. If only *big sigh* 

There's one day left of the week which means one more bus journey (only one thank goodness as Wavey kindly picks me up from work every Friday evening like the fab blokey that he is). I can only wonder with horrified wonderment what that bus journey will bring...

Observing the observed

I'm reading a book at the moment called "Watching the English" by Kate Fox. I'm sure you can gather from the title that she is an anthropologist who spends her time going round the country into various places and watches us English folk. It's not the best book I've ever read along these lines, that would probably go to Bill Bryson's "Notes from a Small Island" which is laugh out loud funny, even on public transport laugh out loud funny. But it is a very interesting book and I've found myself doing a fair bit of watching myself as I've worked my way through it.

Last night was a classic occasion. We were at a gig in a very small intimate venue, I was there with Wavey and my folks and there were probably about another 70-80 people there so pretty small group, hard to hide any behaviour that might be considered against the norm. First up was probably other people watching me as I did a double take when I spotted one of the upstairs people from work, totally out of context and not at all where I would have imagined he would be on a Friday night. We both did that comedy thing where we were looking around, spotted each other, did the double take shocked look thing, and then broke out into a broad smile and waved. Once the first band had finished I went over and invited him to join us as he was all on his lonesome and it seemed a bit mean to just leave him there. He came over, many hands were shaken and introductions were made, then we went into classic Kate Fox observed behaviour - the boys headed to the bar, I stood behind chatting with my ma, they came back and started talking about sport and other "manly" rock bands that might have been seen in the past. 

Next up, the second support act was a young girl with a gee-tar and she was having a LOT of trouble getting set up. Like embarrassingly awful as she stood on the stage and many gestures were made towards the sound booth and we people stood around, feeling awkward and shuffling our feet and trying to fill the terrible silence. We English, as Kate Fox has observed, really hate this kind of situation and so we fill it in an equally awkward way. I had to turn my back on her in the end which is unbelievable rude but I was mortified for her! About 20 agonising minutes later she finally got started, and we classically over compensated with very loud applause and woo-hoo-ing - don't get me wrong, she had a very pleasant sound but she really wasn't all that marvellous. But we definitely made her feel that she was to get over our embarrassment! 

The headliner (Roddy Woomble, totally brilliant and well worth checking out if you ever get a chance to see him live) came on and we all settled in for the real music to start. About 3 songs in someone started talking really really loudly at the back. I'm ok with that kind of thing as am generally so focussed on watching and listening that I don't hear what's around me, but there was one woman in front doing the silent complaining that we're famous for. She was clearly very angry with the loud folk but she didn't get up, she didn't confront them, she didn't wag her finger or tell them to shut up...no she just kept turning round and staring at them as if she could stare them into shamed silence. Which of course didn't work as loud people like that couldn't care less or they wouldn't do it in the first place. But she kept on trying and probably totally spoiled her own enjoyment of the gig in the process.

Then we reached the end of the night, when people say their goodbyes. In our little group there were a few more awkward moments where people decided if they should shake hands and did that funny putting your hand out, not sure, taking it back, trying to pretend you were going to scratch your arm or whatever.

I'm pretty certain that if Kate Fox was there last night she'd have enjoyed observing us all. Maybe we'll appear in a chapter of her next book...

Floor dilemma

Wavey and I have a cream carpet in our living room which is pretty much a really silly idea when you hear that we are both the clumsiest people in the world. It was only a matter of time before something awful happened. A few weeks ago due to an unfortunate cup placing incident a whole cup of coffee was knocked over and despite many many efforts with carpet cleaners and hoovers the stain is still there. We have no other option than to replace the carpet.

It was always kind of in the plan to do that anyway as you walk straight into the house and into the living room. And dirt from the streets get dragged in, when it snows the grit that gets stuck to our boots leaves horrendous stains, we have a coal fire, we work a lot in the garden and often have muddy feet that we don't realise we're dragging through, we have grotbag kids over and sometimes dogs too...all in all, a cream carpet was never the best option to go for. Hey ho, you live and learn. 

But now we've got the dilemma. Taking all of the above into account, how do we choose the best type of flooring that will ensure we no longer have to worry about carpet stains and spend a fortune on carpet cleaning. I reckon it breaks down into a few choices:
*Replace this carpet with another carpet but a darker colour, with maybe a pattern and a different weave to allow for regular stains and not be so obvious
*Forget the idea of carpet altogether and consider some sort of wood flooring alternative, but then it leaves us with the decision of laminate over real wood, or engineered laminate or wood equivalent...
*Turn the floor into another garden but indoors, lay a bit of lawn - would deffo save on hoovering time and could certainly prove a talking point
*Go way out there and build a porch so we can wipe our feet before we come in!  

And so I'm throwing it out there and pleading for help. What should we do folks? We've already moved the rug to cover the coffee stain but it has to be sorted out sooner rather than later. Any other suggestions that would save us some pennies? Go on, help a gal out... 

The big warm yellow ball of joy

After weeks and weeks of sun dancing and moaning about the rubbish rainy summer, the big HOT yellow ball of joy has come to our happy town:

Look how happy we are!

Every day I've been making the comment "sack the flexi the sun is shining" and have had 2, yes 2, pub lunches sat in the sunshine:

Tis truly marvellous and makes me so so happy! Tomorrow is going to be hot too. And Saturday as well. How lucky are we!! Join me in our happy smiley sun dance! Come one come all!