Rattling On...

Seduced...

...by a nice bit of packaging. Come on, who could resist these gorgeous strawberries, placed so carefully in this natty box? They smell lovely too.

I do like to find food presented in recyclable/re-useable packaging instead of plastic. Although, at last we have had the news that a new recycling bin will be delivered in a few weeks' time. A brown one.

Into this box we may put plastic, cardboard and metals, but not glass- which must still go in the green tub. That will make four bins to put out at varying intervals, but I for one am glad. It will mean I won't have to keep plastics in the cellar and make special trips to the re-cycling centre. Fortunately we have room for an extra bin but some people will be pressed to find space for four bins. Quite a lot of old houses here are terraces with no back garden access. These people already have to either trundle the bins through the house, or use precious front garden space.

For three weeks I've been wanting to make some madeleines but there have been no ground almonds in the shops here. Have I missed something? Have they been found to melt cellulite or knock ten years off your face? I did manage to get some today in an obscure shop, even they were very low. Most odd.

In the meantime I succumbed and bought the Little Paris Kitchen cookbook. I sort of watched the programmes. They annoyed me, though the food looks good. Annoyed because the woman supposedly lives in a rabbit hutch in Paris, but has every gadget and utensil known to man stashed away in magic cupboards. She is also horribly photogenic and talented. Even taking that into account I may make her madeleines and give Nigella's the heave-ho this time around.

I'm in that sort of mood at the moment. Sometimes I just can't stand the whole world. Loud voices in shops make me boil, scraping chairs drive me mad, slow/fast/careless drivers incense me. I, of course, am faultless and never annoying.

Other times I love all humanity and find eccentric people charming, give way to plonker drivers, chuckle at children running amok in eateries. Possibly it's hormonal but I also have a nasty suspicion it's to do with the moon phase. I'm not joking, the full moon is almost upon us and with that my misanthropy will reach a peak, after which we can all relax and be lovely to each other.

Gardening purgatory...

I was even wearing gardening gloves for once. Only they had a hole in them...I like the way the dirt has got into every tiny little line and crease, and this is after a good wiping on the pinny.

I was digging up butter burr again after work yesterday. Such hard work, and I really worked up a sweat. But it's easier to just keep going and do another one, another one, another... I hate that stuff and it is all over a large section of the back garden.

I don't want to plant anything new until I have eradicated the fauxbarb as it gets into everything and I've even had to remove part of the path to get at the roots. Hate it.

Whilst digging and glowing I did come across a second blackbirds' nest in the tan gle of climbers that grows against the, broken, fence. Meaning the panel can't be replace until after the chicks have fledged. I bodged the broken bits up as best I could. Very rustic.

If it doesn't rain today I may have another digging session tonight. No hay to make and no actual sunshine, but the principle is the same...

It's just a number...

I happened to be passing through a classroom and spotted this on the board...

Not only are policemen getting younger, it seems teachers are as well. If you were thinking 60 was the new 40 then think again.

I remember when I was small, buying a birthday card for my Aunty at the Post Office in the village where we lived. The Postmaster said 'How old is your Aunty, then?' and I replied 'Oh, very old, she's 34 tomorrow.' I can also remember the smirk on his face very well, though I didn't understand it at the time.

But now...

Lightbulb moment...

You'd be forgiven for thinking this was a misty morning shot, but no, it was five o'clock yesterday afternoon. There's still quite a nip in the air here, though spring is definitely on the way in the garden.

One thing I've noticed is that loads of chuffing flies have come out of hibernation and are zizzing about. That's why you need a good hard winter, gets shot of a lot of them. They sunbathe on the front door and my bedroom window frame.

Which means the odd one gets into the bedroom.

Tuesday night I was doing my pre-sleep-read (Woman in Black) when I heard a scratching sound in the bedroom. Now is it just me or does anyone else immediately jump to the conclusion that there's a rat trapped somewhere?

Let me state here that I have never had a rat in the house, nor suspected that one has been in. But I seem to be hard-wired to go to worst case scenario as default. The only upside of this is that it's almost always a relief to find out the world isn't ending.

Anyway, the scratching sound. Which was just a fly bibbling about along the picture rail, vaguely above the bedside lamp. Flies don't really bother me as a rule, except for their general filthiness, but we've all read those statistics about how many flies are swallowed in the night...

So it had to go. I looked around for something handy to belt it with but that has two disadvantages 1) It can leave an ugly mess on the wall and 2) This house has high ceilings, meaning some gymnastics would be called for and then we'd only be left with number 1 anyway.

Instead, I decided to use my cunning and outwit it. So, I went onto the landing, switched on the light, waited, waited (it's a bloody silly eco bulb) then went back into the bedroom and- here's the genius- turned off the lamp. Gormless fly shot straight out onto the landing to bobble about against the shade out there. I turned off the pretty lighty ,closed the door and was guaranteed an unmolested sleep. Unless you worry about spiders as well.

Who said brains were wasted on me?

Much ado about nothing...

There was loads of yarn left over from the Topsy Turvy throw and I decided to cover a couple of coathangers, partly as I stumbled on a real bargain that meant I didn't have to do the padding myself.

Just to mix it up a bit I did one lot of vertical stripes and one horizontal. I know how to live.

One of the good things about crochet is you can do a foundation chain stitch row and hold it up against the thing you want it to fit and you know straight away where you stand. Then just plug away at the double crochet until it fits (slightly stretched for snugness).

These are an ideal armchair/vegging project and I thought would be great for gifts (Mothering Sunday is approaching fast). There's so many things you could embellish them with, maybe a small lavender bag dangling off the hook? I already have more on the go.

Notice the catkins on the twiggy branches... second picture... sparse but there. But it's cold still, just one degree yesterday morning.

However, it was boiling in work, which was nice as I had a thermal top on. There is never a happy medium and sometimes it's like a form of primitive but effective torture.

Anyway, part way into the first lesson one of the parents rang. His daughter (one of 'mine') was refusing to come into school because... hold onto your knickers... because her hair straighteners had broken.

He was distraught and embarrassed. However he felt a bit better when I explained this was not an uncommon occurrence. Really. It's already recognised that teenagers (and the rest...) can suffer from mobile phone separation anxiety, and I think there must be a term for the dependence on straighteners. Students, not just girls, are often late on account of their protracted toilettes. Gone are the days of wash and go.

Back to yesterday. The parent was most distressed that basically he is hard up at the moment and didn't know how he was going to sort the situation. I said I'd ask if anyone had a spare and get back to him.

I ended up on the Argos website in the sale section pressing Reserve and Collect. A late birthday present to her from me. Hopefully this small gift will make both our school lives easier!

I went to pick them up in my lunch break. All the free parking spots were taken so I had to go to a pay and display. There were three other people waiting to get a ticket and when, a mere few minutes later,  I turned back to the car... there were two traffic wardens looking in all the windows for a ticket. I hallooed and waved my ticket and said 'You're keen'.

Lady (hah!) warden didn't like my attempt at jocularity and warned me not to be rude or she'd 'Log your car'. Rude? Were these people hiding or do they pop out of thin air? They'd just had a go at the woman who was in front of me in the ticket queue. She wasn't saying much but we exchanged a wry glance.

As we walked away after making sure our tickets were visible and we were parked in the marked bay, she looked towards them and shouted 'Arse!'. Yeah, that's telling them.

Queensberry rules...

For one reason and another yesterday I found myself actually wanting to take a swing at someone.

This is a rare occurrence for me, and thus worth mentioning here.

In fact, the effort of the self-restraint required resulted in the formation of a light sweat and the need to walk off the frustration.

I think my face betrayed me and the other party was startled. A small hint at an apology was offered by them later in the day, by which time I'd attempted self-mollification with an ample slice of cheesecake.

Sunday, Sunday...

Don't be fooled by that blue sky, it's down below freezing again here and it snowed last night. I'll take the blue sky but you can stick the snow, thanks.

Back to school tomorrow, but I feel I've had a good week off, with a nice balance of tasks done and relaxation. A week is never long enough for all the things I wish I'd done though.

I did manage to get the DVD player working again. Not that it wasn't working, more that the pictures weren't showing up on the screen. This was following the fitting of a new Sky box just after Christmas, it hadn't worked since then so I knew the two were connected. No flies on me.

Thing is, I know nothing about how all the wires are supposed to feed in and out, and I assumed the nice pre-schooler they sent to fit the box would know what he was doing. In the end I bit the bullet and phoned Sky. Nice woman answered and proceeded to talk tech... is the HDMI cable connected to the blah blah blah... she lost me at HDMI.

However, after speaking to her my brain must have been working in the background as I suddenly thought about how the DVD player was ancient and the 'HD' bit might not relate to it. So I uncoupled it from the HD box and jacked it straight into the TV. Bingo. I immediately had a four hour North and South marathon. Ahh, Richard, how you cheered me up. Ahem.

I've also watched Rebecca, (very good and ahh, Charles, how you cheered me up) and Modigliani (less good and ahh, Andy, you didn't cheer me up). So, my Christmas viewing stash has been started on, there is still a pile I haven't got round to but some of them require watching properly, as in without knitting/crocheting at the same time. Mainly because they have fantastic costumes. I do love attention to detail. But I also like my crafting to be done properly as well, and I've been busy on two projects. Not at the same time, you understand.

One is a doddle, one took a little bit of mastering. Of the sort where you read and read a pattern and end up just having to really look at the pictures close-up to figure out what's happening. That was the crochet one, I'm relatively new to crochet and sometimes patterns via Ravelry assume a certain level of previous experience. Although the knitting pattern had abbreviations on I was unsure of, 'pm' I decided was place marker. I never use markers so that was one thing out of the way.

I would love to spend today watching DVDs and knitting but, in true Procrastinator m.o., I've left all the ironing this week and today's the day. And doing the weekly shop, I put that off as well. And starting off the pudding I'm making for the WI Christmas party (been postponed twice due to weather... watch this space). Better get a move on, then...

Sucking hell...

It started to snow quite heavily last night but fortunately a lot of it has disappeared. What is left is now frozen solid and Coco keeps barking every time a car goes down the road (which isn't very often) as it's so loud and she thinks we're being invaded!

It's cold and we have a bit of blue sky and it should last a whole day... the sky, the cold is forecast for the next week. I should say it's colder, as it hasn't been very warm here for what seems like forever. But this kind of day is lovely and I plan on getting out later.

I need to buy a new vacuum cleaner. Oh, the excitement. The one I have hasn't been very great since the day it came into the house and this week the brushes stopped turning. I got out the hose thing and put the nozzle on the end, which I always do for cleaning the stairs. Well, I think the thing was designed for very dinky people as I had to bend over to be able to reach the floor, it was backbreaking.

As the vacuum came from a Very Well Known Company I decided to e-mail them and inform them that I wouldn't be getting another model of theirs. A woman rang back three days later and asked if I'd dismantled the machine and replaced the belt recently. No. I told her it didn't matter why it had stopped working, I hated it anyway. It doesn't pick up cat hair from carpets, cat litter from hard floors, bits off the new carpet... it blows dust back out of a hidden orifice and it scratches painted floors. I've only stuck with the damned thing because it cost so much in the first place. I just wanted them to know is all.

So, I'm going to get a bog-standard model and have been reading reviews. My Dad offered advice (he does a lot of vacuuming at their gaff and my Mother likes a tidy place) and basically it comes down to getting a big motor for suction. I want a bagless contraption with a large dust well. I want it to suck up whatever is in its path. I want to be able to float around the house vacuuming with contetment. Ha!

Yesterday...

I try to nip home every lunch time to let the dogs out for a quick break. As I don't work too far away (and I have a car) it's usually manageable in the fifty minutes we get.

As I parked up on my return yesterday I could see a group of 6th form girls in the road, obviously distressed about something, waving cars away.

There was a squirrel lying on the road, unmarked, and they were worried it would get run over. I went over to them and carefully moved the squirrel, I am always cautious as they can give a nasty bite. It was dead. I picked it up, it was still very warm, and took it into the school grounds, where I put it in the middle of some dense bushes and covered it with leaves.

In an overhead tree another squirrel, maybe the partner, was making the most distressing sound. It was like a howl and a chatter all at once, and I found it very upsetting if I'm honest. It's this sort of thing that makes me avoid watching nature programmes these days. Knowing that lives of all sorts are going on everywhere, that icebergs are melting and rain forests are disappearing. 

-:-:-:-

The cake went down a storm and, as it was enormous, was enjoyed by many. It was so big, in fact, that it only just fit in my biggest cake tin- with a bit of encouragement. I used almond essence in the buttercream filling and everyone said it was like a chocolate battenburg! The birthday boy was very happy with it, and his little box of chocolates, and gave me a thumbs up as he left.

 

Who wants a piece of effing cake?

I got home from work yesterday to find that the cat had chundered up a hairball on my bed. With attendant matter of an unidentified nature. On the bed that had just had clean sheets, and more precisely on my favourite green wool blanket.

It already felt like Friday on a Tuesday, and not in a good way. In the past week and a half I have been sworn at more times than possibly the rest of my life altogether. It goes with the job to a certain extent, but is very wearing after a while.

Thank goodness then that today a rather lovely student is having his 13th birthday and I promised a surprise. He likes cake, so I made him a special one last night.

He is one of those people that enters a room with a smile and is always ready to help. He also has red hair and gets bullied for it. I happen to like red hair, but that's by the by.

He started coming in to us last year at break times to avoid the general melee and he just never stopped coming in for his tea and toast. As a joke I made him a pigeon hole of his own in with ours. It's full every day; of homework, Lego, letters and books. 

You should never underestimate the small kindnesses. They outweigh grand gestures ten to one. Just as one smile can wipe out a week of foul language.

Again...

The daffodils were bought to remind me that spring should be on the way somewhere. Actually I'm expecting it this afternoon or tomorrow at the latest.

Because it will be blowing in. With the 90mph winds we are having again, and which kept me up half the night. Again. As I write the next door neighbour is hammering away at the fence, nailing bits back on. Again. The poor man has just paid to replace several lengths lost a couple of weeks ago. I did think it was rash replacing them at the time, the gaps weren't important except aesthetically. Fingers crossed he won't be on to the builders' merchant again in a few days.

The more I look at the word 'again' the more I wonder why it was chosen to represent a repeat of something. If you deconstruct it to 'a gain' you would imagine it to be a positive word. Not at the moment. Nor for the next few days if the forecast is to be believed.

Which it is not, as none of this was forecast, unless you count 'windy' as covering 90mph gusts. Snow is now being mentioned, for those on hills. Which pretty much sums us up. Let's hope the wind drops before the snow comes or I may need to keep the snow shovel inside of the front door...

Tempting fate...

I knew I shouldn't have done it. You know, left the comment yesterday that my washing machine hadn't packed up in a while...

I went out in the afternoon to get flowers for my Mother's birthday today and when I got back, yes you've guessed it. There stood the washer with a full tub of clothes and water and all the lights flashing.

All I can say is it took a long time to get the door open, and thank goodness for those squashy plastic  tub thingies (I have several, but the large pink one I use for carting laundry was a Godsend) for catching the deluge and tupperware for bailing out the drum. Two bath towels (for soaking up) and a monkey wrench later and the filter was unblocked. I knew it was the filter as I had this problem some years ago when I put a Dry Clean Only throw in the washer. It disintegrated and I lost a lot of flesh firking it out from the innards of the washer.

Anyway, by 9pm the load was back in and the state of panic had subsided a little. Underwired bras are the subject of an embargo from now on... 

No TV and no computer are one thing but no washer... no way.

So, it's a Happy New Year to everyone and my resolution is to stop making trite comments that come back to bite me on the you know what. Oh, and to play the lottery... 

Pimp your trees...

Or... Christmas tree festival at Christ Church, Burbage.

While out walking the dog the other day I noticed a small poster advertising a tree display/competition at my local church. Which makes it sound like a pub, My Local, and all that. But it's the church of the parish I live in.

Tuesday afternoon was gloomy and cold so I thought a bit of tree spotting would be a good idea so I trundled off.

It's a nice traditional building (built 1860/61) with a lych gate at each of the two entrances, I like them a lot.

So I go inside, camera in hand, and ask the man just inside the door if it was ok for me to take pictures. He said he wasn't an official but he'd ask the Lady in Charge for me. She turned out to be a friend from work and she was doing the afternoon 2-4 opening stint.

Can you just see the tea table peeping from behind the tree? Friend and I got settled down with a cup of tea and spent almost the whole two hour opening time jawing away. Her parents, daughter-in-law and tiny grandson were also there. Other people came and went, bought raffle tickets and shared baby stories.

The trees had been decorated by different community groups, including the pub over the road who host a carol service and auction each year. The WI, bellringers, guides, Mothers' Union, Brass Band and so on all have a tree with a pertinent theme in many cases.

After Tuesday's relative calmness, yesterday was all-go. I went to visit a cousin in the morning 'For an hour' which turned into three. So then I had to do present shopping, wash all the sofa covers and cushion covers and assorted throws (I like to be clean at Christmas), make the Christmas cake (I know...) and do an airport run at 9.30 in the evening. That took three hours.

The little pile of DVDs I bought myself to watch in my spare time remain untouched so far. I bought most of them for half-term in October. Maybe when I've wrapped the presents, iced the cake, done the food shopping...

Or maybe I'll just hit the bottle of port I treated myself to.

Smoke gets in your eyes...

Yesterday was school Christmas Lunch Day. What usually happens is that forms are allocated a table at one of the sittings, they decorate it and eat together. Usually. 

I work in the Inclusion Centre where all the displaced students are taught and take refuge. We put on our own lunch for the ones that decide they can manage to stay in school long enough to eat it. We cook it, serve it, put out crackers, play festive music and do entertainments afterwards. Our motley 'form' is made up of students from across the school, all ages and abilities.

I arrived first thing to be assailed by a terrible smell, like when a plug catches fire. Plastic... I went into the centre to find it full of thick smoke and M with his head in the cooker. Not trying to end it all but trying to clean it.

Mrs D had bought the turkey in to cook it and put it, in a foil tray, onto a baking sheet, oven on and off to the morning meeting. Back to find the smell, the smoke etc. and melted plastic all over the oven. The baking sheet had in fact been a refectory tray.

Perhaps insensitively I asked her 'Are you on drugs or something, if you thought that was metal?' 'Not yet...' was her reply. M had cleared most of the mess but had a residue of unpleasantness all over the oven bottom still to master. We watched him swiping at it with a tea towel and he suggested, not without sarcasm, that we may want to pull up some chairs.

He then wondered aloud how we were going to get rid of the last film of plastic, and I could help him with that one. A liberal dose of olive oil and a bit more elbow grease later and all was well. The shelf was easier to deal with but two wooden spatulas, a slotted spoon, two tea towels and a plate were all lost in the tragedy.

After that excitement all went as well as expected. The crackers (not cheap ones) were a bit of a disappointment but the kids loved the profiteroles, we didn't do a Christmas pudding as not one of them admitted to having a taste for it. Same with sprouts, shame, as I love them. They are a conservative lot.

Games afterwards included Battleships, some sort of table hockey thing, a DVD was on and M and I played Giant Sudoku on the board. We got a puzzle from on-line and drew it extra large on the board. We had a coloured marker each and went head to head over the numbers. We chose level 6 (out of 6) which we usually both find ok. Not yesterday, the fumes must have addled us. We spent a long time just staring at it. The Head Teacher looked it over, offered advice and scarpered. Mr B played table hockey and Mrs D wrote some notes up. M's missus kindly did the washing up and remains unaware that he knows how to clean an oven. We were sworn to secrecy...

In which I discuss my piles...

A friend asked me the other day whether I was a Piler or a Filer. There's a third category of Tosser, fortunately he didn't mention that one. (This is also known as the Purger category... equally difficult to bring up [!!] in conversation)

I am a Piler. Most definitely, and so is he as it happens. My piles are not random and within themselves are quite organised. Pilers keep notebooks and lists as opposed to electronic diaries, they have drawers full of Stuff. They may or may not know exactly where everything is... these definitions form the sub categories.

I aspire to being a Filer. I am an occasional Tosser. However my piles do not define me as an individual, I am not a slave to my piles. I am their master, or at least I like to believe I am.

Please feel free to out yourself here. Do not be ashamed of your piles...