Summer is Here

Summer is here, or at least the long, light nights have arrived.  Monday - Wednesday wasn't bad, long, but not bad, the nights are much lighter and I caught up on a lot of sleep, we've even had highs of 20 degrees this week, (although snow is predicted for next week.) 

I was off on Thursday and went in search of petrol, yes, you read right, I had to hunt it down.  There is talk of a strike by tanker drivers and so panic petrol buying has ensued, fuelled, (pardon the pun,) by some government lunatic advising everyone to top up.  I can't tell you what the queues were like and that was only at the garages which hadn't run dry.  They haven't even confirmed a strike yet, anyway, if there is one thing us Brits can do, it's queue.

The supermarket was dry so I headed out towards my usual haunt and stopped on the motorway services to see if they had fuel.  They did, and  I topped up enough to get me out of the red, (it was the day before payday so I couldn't fill up.) 

As long as I'm half way there, and I have fuel, I carry on for a coffee, then head home.  B is picking me up so that we can go out to Llangollen for lunch at the Corn Mill, I double check with her that she's okay wasting fuel on a trip out, and she is. 

It's a gorgeous day, not quite as warm as it has  been but the sun is shining and the wind really blows the cobwebs away.  After lunch, we head out to Llandudno, which, for all intents and purposes, seems to be pretty much closed prior to Easter.  Everywhere is getting a fresh lick of paint, and I've never actually seen it so empty, then again, I don't remember going in March before.

B ponders on whether to go into a clothes shop there, then announces that it seemed a bit old fashioned the last time we went in.  I query, "the last time?" then, to confirm my assessment, we wander in and the place is occupied by the contents of a coach load of white haired pensioners.  Yes... B did buy something whilst in there, no... I had nothing to do with it.

We briskly walked up the pier, it's a lovely long pier and I do enjoy walking the wooden boards and breathing in the salty air.  We reach the end of the pier and head to the bar for our ritual drink and to freeze in the open air, as we open the doors to walk in, the barman announces that they're closed, it's 4.45pm.  Still, the walk is good for us.  B decides that we should head for a pub for one drink as it wouldn't be a trip to Llandudno without one.  We pass a couple of pubs which do not entice us in, we actually go into one, B seems happy but I ask her, "don't you think it smells like toilets?" With that... we leave.

I offer that maybe we should head into one of the Victorian hotels on the front, if they're not restricted to residents only, it might be quite nice.  We wander into the grand, Imperial Hotel and, as the receptionist is busy, I head for the bar and B follows me.  It's elegant, has beautiful lighting and dark wood everywhere.  B's hearing aid is malfunctioning so I choose a place in the bar where we can talk freely and not impinge on the other party that are in there.  The hotel was built in 1865, and sitting in the lounge with a lovely glass of chilled wine, I feel like I'm on the Titanic.  Facing me are closed, glass and wood doors through which you can see the dining area.  It's lovely and relaxing and I'm sitting beside a piano, how I wish I'd had more than one solitary piano lesson.  I really think I'd like to return here.

Police

I slept great last night, until the police helicopter hovering overhead woke me, I suddenly feel like I live in a really rough area.

The clocks are due to spring forward, and I'm looking forward to... long, light evenings, and I can hear the renewed call of healthy eating and increased jogging.  Don't you love summer?

I'm going home to blitz as usual, and to organise.

Short week coming up, with a party at the end of it.  A friend from work has lent me a frock, jacket and bag!  I've told her that she should go into the hiring business, she has such an extensive wardrobe, great taste and doesn't wear half of it.  It would make a great side-line.

The birthday girl, whose party it is, is a friend from the newspaper and it's been a good while since I saw everyone, so will be great to catch up.

Bumps and Bangs

I had a horrible nights sleep on Sunday, bumps and bangs throughout the night, I did of course, have to investigate each and everyone, and the four hours sleep max, that I may have got, was fragmented into possibly, less than an hour in total.  I'm exhausted beyond belief on Monday.

Work is dire, won't even bore you with it.  Hurt feelings on Monday outside of work, but am I just overtired?

I'm sitting here in the Railway pub with a lovely, chilled glass of Rose while J gets a psychic reading with my funny but accurate Bernard, who I saw a couple of months ago.  J has some burning questions that she'd like answered, and I've already been chatted up at the bar, I get the feeling that they don't see many new faces in here.

J did get answers, but not necessarily the ones she was looking for, still, she was impressed by my Bernard.

Work had it's funny moments, we were discussing the name "Eric," and I reminisced about the Eric at Senior school that I was in awe of.  I had a massive crush on him and he was a little older, he was also in the band.  I got lots of comments on how it must have been the leather trousers or the glamour that attracted me, then I added that he was in the brass band.  Did he play the trumpet?  No, that was Bobby, and I had a crush on him too.

It's now Saturday and that was one heck of a long week, and I haven't been feeling great either.  At best, it's the weekend, and hearing my text message arrive this morning, and knowing it was you, cheered me up no end.  The ensuing phone call did the trick too. 

So, I'm now here, with my filter coffee and chocolate coin, I don't feel quite with it, like I'm still half asleep.

Saturday was filled with visiting relatives, housework and meeting up with old friends.  It was a packed, but lovely day.

The clocks sprung forward in the wee small hours.  It's now Sunday, the sun is shining, and although it's a bit chilly, I'm wearing a t-shirt for the first time  this year, (yes, I'm a little cold, but at least I look the part.)  

CSI... the Original

I love CSI, the one that doesn't need a city name after it.  I wondered how it would fare after William Petersen's, (Grissom's,) departure.  Lawrence Fishburne, who I love in film, and I was excited to see in the new role, well, the character didn't quite gel, I think that's fair to say.  Fast forward to Mr Fishburn leaving, and for the television network to announce the new lead role would be taken be Ted Danson.

I wondered for a while if they were serious and if they had taken leave of their senses?  I've only ever seen Ted Danson do comedy, predominantly; "Cheers", (you know, the one where everybody knows your name?," in which he was brilliant, still, it's hardly hard hitting, is it? 

I was interested to see the fallout, the disaster, the car crash that ensued, and so I tuned in to episode one, in which Mr Danson made his debut.  He was brilliant.  The character is quirky, understated, outside of the box, and in my humble opinion, he was just what the series needed.  This, ladies and gentlemen, is why those TV execs are paid the big bucks.  Yet another example of how not to judge a book by it's cover.  Mr Dansen is brilliant, I will continue to watch.

Happy Mother's Day 2012

Happy Mother's Day UK to you.  Heard on the radio that it's not Mother's Day in NZ, the US, Oz, and many more, until May, still, as you have one foot in each camp, so to speak... then I'm wishing you a very Happy Day sweet pea.  I'm thinking of you and thinking of mine, I've really tried to avoid her today, but it's everywhere... there is no escape.  I've just realised that for the first time in 9 years, my Clematis hasn't flowered, this variety is called; "Friend for Life."  I need to buy some plant food.

So, the weirdest thing happened last night and I woke up feeling like an old person!  No offence to old people by the way, it's just what I associate with the older generation, having had first hand experience. 

Anyway, I was tired yesterday but hadn't slept well the night before, so I took a sleeping tablet, faced with 5 days ahead of me without a decent nights' sleep, I figured I'd cash in while I could.  My hands have  been pretty dry so I got out some nice hand cream and placed it on my nightstand ready to slather.  Picked up my book to read a few pages, and the next I knew... it was four hours later, the book was on the floor, and the light was on!

I haven't slept with the light on since I was little, and what's more worrying... I don't even remember closing my eyes!  My Dear Mum used to do this all the time, and while I'd love the super power of power-napping... this is a bit of a shock.  Am I old?  Or just tired?

Anyway... feeling much older today than I did yesterday, I did half of Tracy Anderson Butt and Thigh as back is still killing me.

March 17th 2012

After a busy morning on Friday, I headed to visit my cousin J, and her new baby A.  A was mesmerised as she sat happily on my knee and J proclaimed, that was the quietest she'd been all day.  We had a really good catch up and a lovely lunch, fresh and tasty sandwiches followed by cupcakes made by my other cousin's fair hands, (J's brother.)  A may be a very manly, action adventure, thrill seeker, but he makes surprisingly light, fluffy and pink cupcakes... with sprinkles.  Just delicious. 

Little A hadn't had her usual nap and was a bit grisly, so we headed out for a lovely walk along the canal, really blew the cobwebs away, and baby was fast asleep within 2 minutes of the 50 minute  hike.  She looked like a little angel lying there. 

I got home, ironed, made my bed and pondered what to have for tea.  Turned out to be eggs on toast, I have been trying to perfect my eggs all week... even taking timings, and I'm almost there.

I keep forgetting what day it is, I woke to the sound of rain and thought it was Sunday, and I've just done it again... it's only Saturday. 

Digging away at my remaining foam with my wooden stick this morning, Mr Regular asks me if I'd like him to get me a spoon?  Pretty certain he's just being facetious, I tell him no thank you... I enjoy digging with my stick.

Floaty Head Syndrome

So, last Sunday at 8.30pm, dear brother in law G, is changing spark plugs and informs me that I also have no water in my radiator, (it's a sealed unit so shouldn't need to be topped up, which means that there is a leak somewhere.)  At 9pm, after a test drive, I hit the shower and fall into bed totally exhausted.

I've ached for the rest of the week, mainly neck and shoulders which I think is from the tense drive home on Sunday.  I gave blood successfully on Thursday, I passed the first pin prick test, (first time in a good while,) the blood donation lady who should have seen to me, told me I was her fail!  Remember when she put the needle in wrong a couple of times ago and I had to go back?  Well, I remember it happening but I couldn't have told you who it was.  She informed me that; "you never forget a fail!"  So I tried to reassure her that I hadn't remembered and that she should definitely take my donation today.  But even with my most persuasive of skills and feigning nonchalance... she wouldn't do it, I feel like my veins must have really knocked her confidence.  I told her she should definitely do me next time.

Had "floaty head syndrome" for the remainder of the day, despite my thank-you-for-coming biscuits, half a packet of crisps, and a chocolate bar.  I had an early night and slept for 10 hours, bliss.  I got up and had toast and marmalade and jogged for 30 minutes, floaty head syndrome has passed.

In the words of Chandler Bing; Could it *get* any worse?

Okay, so I know that things could definitely get worse, I'm being overly dramatic, but it's been a pretty crappy weekend.  I didn't sleep great last night, I heard bumps and bangs in the wee small hours.  I thought it was next door but given that I'd had uninvited guests on the roof the night before, I wasn't entirely convinced.  Anyway, after much broken sleep, I finally got my body off the mattress at 7, and did the other half of Tracy Anderson Butt and Thigh workout, I hope that one day, someone appreciates my efforts.

I head out to the usual haunt, and half way there, as I'm careering along the motorway, the car starts to fail, I'm losing speed and power.  Using the skills I've gained in the past, however many driving years, clutch control, hazard lights, and a lot of praying, I reach my destination.  My legs are shaking and my shoulders are somewhere around my ears by the time I arrive.

I've had this before, it's like the fuel isn't getting through to the engine and you lose power, speed and may even chug.  It's the spark plugs and they pretty much need changing every 18 months.  Anyway, I have a coffee and calm down, all I can do is flick through a magazine while I drink, I can't concentrate to write or read my Eat Pray Love.  I have my coffee, regain control of my legs, and phone J.  Is G, dear brother in law in work yet?  Yep... until 8pm.  Okay, well, I may need you to come and get me if I break down.  Anyway, J phones G, he concurs with my diagnosis and I'm assured that I should drive home, even if I can't get past 20mph. 

Long story short, my 14 minute journey takes me 40 minutes, I have to pull over several times but I made it, although I felt like I'd run the distance by the time I did make it home.

The police van made a drive by this morning, I wonder what's going on.  When I do arrive back home, I was aiming to knock next door but one to speak to my neighbour about the other night's excitement, she's already out talking to the other next door but one and shouts over that she's just knocked at mine.  Turns out that the the uninvited were after the lead on the roof.  Can you believe it?  I suppose it's some small consolation that they weren't trying to break in?

I really need to win the lottery.  So, after a three day weekend, I'm exhausted, and could do with another three days to recover.

J has been out to purchase knew spark plugs for me, even though she is full of cold.  G finishes work at 8pm then he'll be over to change them.  I'm so lucky.  Sleep deprived and traumatised, but lucky.

How long is it to next weekend???  I need a rest, and to sleep.

2.45am

Last night, I woke at 2am, I was hot, even after sticking one leg out for a while, and unable to get back to sleep.  So I was wide awake at 2.38am, when I heard someone on my roof, the footsteps seemed to pass to the left but when it's happened before, I usually hear them dissipate into the distance, this time, I didn't hear them for long and so I wasn't satisfied that he'd moved away.  Yes, the footsteps belonged to a male, tall, hence the long stride.  I got up, grabbed my robe and set about investigating, I looked out of the patio door, couldn't see anything.  Checked the back was secure and peered out of the front door peep hole, all looked secure, and quiet.  I went to the fridge for a cold drink of water and wondered if I should call the police.  The last time I did that when I heard someone on the roof, they weren't long responding, maybe 10-15 minutes, but it was still pointless, as the roof walker was long gone. 

In the time it took me to conjure that though, I heard a heavy motor, looked through the peep hole once more, and 10 seconds later, saw a police van and two police cars arrive and park at the top of my drive.  I pulled on my jeans and headed out to meet one of the officers, it was 2.45am.

"There was someone on my roof."  He repeated it back, but as a question.  "There was someone on your roof?"  Okay, if the policeman is asking me that... what were they there for?  "Yes, you can't mistake it, but I think they went that way."  I was pointing in the opposite direction to where they were all headed.  "Okay, I might come back an talk to you in a minute."

I headed inside and hovered by the door.  2 minutes later, the van drove off.  2 minutes after that, after, not shouting but, two policemen talking rather loudly to each other, (unfortunately, not quite loud enough for me to hear through the door,) both police cars left.  1 minute after that, I heard the police helicopter overhead. 

I headed to bed, with machete to hand... just in case, (okay, it's not a real machete but my Grandad was a butcher so lets just call it a very substantial knife which could do a lot of damage if required, or it would at least scare someone if I wielded it, even if it was just me that was scared,) and I felt fine, but I couldn't drop off again, every tiny noise pricked up my ears.

I think I half dropped off around 5am then managed to haul myself off the mattress at 7, just in time to do half of Tracy Anderson Butt and Thigh workout.  I'll have to do the other leg tomorrow or else I'll be odd... more odd.  God I hope I sleep tonight.

Last Sunday

I had no Internet connection for most of Sunday, after a frustrating 40 minutes on to AOL, it was decided, that it was an external problem and I should be back online within 36 to 72 hours.  They may have well told me to go without water for that long.  Anyway, I was back on within a few hours and without too many withdrawal symptoms. 

More bad news from work this week, but as long as you expect change, frequent bad news, no prospects and wage cuts, then it's do-able.

Monday, I had a bit of a wobble until I managed to get a grip.  You know that feeling when you suddenly take stock and realise that you're heading down one road, and have been for the longest time, but there is the strong possibility of a sharp right just ahead?  It's not on the map, the agenda or the sat nav.  And you know that sat nav just sometimes tells you to "turn right now," and you might be in the left lane... you're not even prepared to turn right.

So there's this road, which may, or may not be looming, you have no idea what kind of terrain you'll be driving over or even if the road will be filled with pot holes.  Are there pot holes?  How long is this road?

Yep, it was a major wobble.  I like to tell myself that I'm all, "go with the flow," but I'm not, I'm... what's that word which implies OCD is thrown in?  Oh yeah... "controlling."  I admit it, I like a plan, I like to know what I'm aiming for, what's ahead, even if it's not good, at least I'm prepared.  I don't deal with surprises well, I know... shocker.

Anyway, by Tuesday, I'd realised, that while we all have free will, I still believe in a little of; "what will be, will be." 

So, if in the end, I do end up taking that sharp right, I guess I'll have to learn to drive blind again, no map reading, (I never could read a map,) and no sat nav.  I'll just have to negotiate, one pot hole at a time.

Crinkle

When I was growing up, I remember many times questioning my Mum.  What colour was Nanna's hair?  It was auburn I think.  How tall was Nanna?  I don't recall the answer, but she was short.  How tall was Grandad?  I think he was 5ft 10".   I poured over old photographs, photos that were taken long before I even arrived on the scene.  I was looking for someone I looked like.  Some trait that I'd inherited, for someone that I looked like.  I was already odd, the fifth daughter, four daughters to one, beloved father... then me... to mine.  I was just looking for a little something to show that I fitted in.  Some said that I looked like my cousin Lyn, but I think they were just throwing me a bone as we both had brown eyes.  Did I have the looks of my blond bombshell Mother?  My oh so handsome Grandad or my exotic looking Nanna?  No, no, and erm... no. 

I once told my Mum that she was the image of my Grandad, she was older by this time, maybe in her 70's and Grandad was 50+ in the photo I was looking at.  This particular black and white photo, showed a still handsome, and proud looking James, with whiter hair and a stoic look.  It was the eyes that made them look the same... and the crinkle.  They both possessed this little inflection.  Two, tiny, vertical lines, carefully engraved above the nose and into the brow.  The were identical and Mum seemed really pleased with the observation, like she'd never noticed before then.

As the years have passed, I've come to accept that I was not in fact left under a bush or on the doorstep, or switched at the hospital where I was born.  I've seen pictures of my Dad Jack, when he was younger, well, a little younger than I am now, and I have a look of him.  I also have this "look," that my Mother used to give.  Scared the living daylights out of me the first time I realised I was doing it, but it's kind of nice.  And yes... I noticed in the mirror this week, that I have my Granddad's crinkle too.  I'm welcoming it with sentimentality at present, that doesn't mean that I won't consider botox in the future though ;)

March 3rd 2012

It's Saturday and the first thing I have to tell you is, you know that I always love our phone catch ups, but Thursday's call really did cheer me up and I must have sounded like I was moaning for England, but telling you what's going on with jobs, pay etc, really did lighten the load, (it got worse on Friday by the way... our pensions contributions go up next month, with no option or further benefit, so I'll be almost £20 worse off from April.)  Anyhoo, as I was saying, I must have sounded like a right moaner but I felt better for telling you all about it, and we hand a laugh anyway, didn't we ;)  God I miss you.

The working week flew by, not in a good way.  It was stressful, (I hate that word,) hectic, pressurised, frustrating.  I still didn't sleep though, Thursday, I clocked around 3 hours, it was past midnight when I finally drifted off and awake around 3.45am.  The stitches may have had something to do with it, but they were removed on Thursday afternoon.  So glad to have those out, they were becoming more sensitive than the cut itself.  Anyway, I'm healing up nicely and by next week, I'm sure I won't be able to feel a thing.  Can't wait to show you my scar on my next visit.

It's a gloomy and rainy day here today.  I was aiming to head home and cut the grass but it's not looking too good at the moment.

Did you know that the legend that is; Engelbert Humperdinck is to represent the UK in the Eurovision?  I'm amazed that someone like him would even consider it and intrigued to know who the heck thought of asking him in the first place.  Absolute genius.  No idea of the song yet, not entirely convinced it's even been written yet, but whatever it is, he'll belt it out like a pro, I'm actually quite looking forward to Eurovision this year, for the first time... well... ever.

In case you're racking your brains for the name of one of Engelbert's major hits, (I know that we're both too young to remember...)  here you go...

  http://youtu.be/oKNTHjOjsvs  This was recorded probably 6 months either way, of me being born.

http://youtu.be/cMMZe6hoNmA  There are much newer versions of this, but think this is kinda quaint and no... I wasn't born yet... I wasn't even a twinkle.

http://youtu.be/F4s__QO9kG0  This was out the year I was born, ahhhh come on, how can you not love this one?

In case you're wondering, he'll be the oldest in the competition at 75, GO HUMP!  I think that's what they call him x