"They say that tree-hugging is therapeutic. That assumes you are disturbed in the first place." Tim Wonnacot
I could get to like Bargain Hunt.
Showing posts with label miscellaneous. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscellaneous. Show all posts
Wednesday, 22 February 2012
How to traumatise a spoilt dog
Question; When did I acquire a sulky teenager? Bailey is not a happy bunny.
Our old sofa had become dangerous to sit on. To be fair, it was a wooden framed sofa that had been well used for 50+ years (!) but was no longer repairable. So it was taken away by good old Bulky Bob's, hopefully something good would happen to it.
The replacement sofa is at my brother's ready for collection shortly. In the meantime, Bailey is inconsolable. The cushions were soft enough for him to lie on the back and bed in (see his profile pic). He had his spot on the end of the sofa, where he could watch the passers-by. He could hide underneath it, store his toys underneath it.
And it has gone, so he has refused to stay in the room since. The lovely antique rocking chair is viewed with great scorn. He has taken residence in my bedroom instead, sitting on the end of the bed and watching the world from a higher vantage point. He comes down when he wants something, and resents my presence in the room if he doesn't.
The bad news is, the replacement is a rather fine Italian leather job, and he won't be allowed on it. At this rate, he won't come down to find out...
Our old sofa had become dangerous to sit on. To be fair, it was a wooden framed sofa that had been well used for 50+ years (!) but was no longer repairable. So it was taken away by good old Bulky Bob's, hopefully something good would happen to it.
The replacement sofa is at my brother's ready for collection shortly. In the meantime, Bailey is inconsolable. The cushions were soft enough for him to lie on the back and bed in (see his profile pic). He had his spot on the end of the sofa, where he could watch the passers-by. He could hide underneath it, store his toys underneath it.
And it has gone, so he has refused to stay in the room since. The lovely antique rocking chair is viewed with great scorn. He has taken residence in my bedroom instead, sitting on the end of the bed and watching the world from a higher vantage point. He comes down when he wants something, and resents my presence in the room if he doesn't.
The bad news is, the replacement is a rather fine Italian leather job, and he won't be allowed on it. At this rate, he won't come down to find out...
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Astronomy for Idiots
this was originally in Draft on 5 December 2011
Phoebe gave me an astronomy lesson a fortnight ago.
She came in yelling "I've just seen a satellite!" and hauled me into the garden to be educated.
Off the top of my head, I can't remember what she confused with a satellite, I meant to check The Sky at Night site to see what was suitably bright in the sky, but I forgot.
Apparently, the twinkly ones are twinkle stars, and the big round one was the Moon. The moving/flashing lights are planes (don't bother with them).
So there we have the Wonders of the Universe AND the Solar System, condensed by a three year old.
Follow up 21 February 2012
For Christmas, Phoebe requested a telescope, a keyboard, a drum and a fairy dress. Since then, she has;
Phoebe gave me an astronomy lesson a fortnight ago.
She came in yelling "I've just seen a satellite!" and hauled me into the garden to be educated.
Off the top of my head, I can't remember what she confused with a satellite, I meant to check The Sky at Night site to see what was suitably bright in the sky, but I forgot.
Apparently, the twinkly ones are twinkle stars, and the big round one was the Moon. The moving/flashing lights are planes (don't bother with them).
So there we have the Wonders of the Universe AND the Solar System, condensed by a three year old.
Follow up 21 February 2012
For Christmas, Phoebe requested a telescope, a keyboard, a drum and a fairy dress. Since then, she has;
- Watched Stargazing Live with her dad and loved it
- Battered her brother for trying to take her telescope
- As above, but for trying to steal the microphone off the keyboard
- Developed a fine line of Disney princess dresses
- Has not given up hope on the drum, just yet...
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Jasmine (1999-2011)
Jasmine, the Warrior Princess, died last Monday. And there will be a worthy tribute piece at some point.
Being a total sentimental case, I asked the vet for the ashes, which were ready for collection today.
They were nowhere to be found when I arrived. Even in death, that cat could do a runner from the vet.
Well done that girl! They did turn up, btw.
Being a total sentimental case, I asked the vet for the ashes, which were ready for collection today.
They were nowhere to be found when I arrived. Even in death, that cat could do a runner from the vet.
Well done that girl! They did turn up, btw.
Saturday, 17 September 2011
How to stop your owner's heart...
I took Bailey to the local supermarket, we needed milk. Or rather, I need tea with milk to function, and he likes a walk. He chose to forget the mammoth fetch-ball session in the pouring rain, and pestered until I decided to take him along.
I tied his lead to a ring around a post outside the exit door. And in the space of five minutes he vanished.
He had started to wander round the post, found the gap in the ring that I had missed, and pulled his lead free. Then he went in through the out door, and looked round for me. In the meantime, I was outside, thinking horrible thoughts about dognapping and little hounds playing in traffic.
To his credit, he was sweet and charming to the staff who caught him, and didn't pee on anything or anybody. But he showed no sign of wanting to go back in with a list and a trolley to sort the weekly shop, either.
But then he is a little blokey dog. What did I expect?
I tied his lead to a ring around a post outside the exit door. And in the space of five minutes he vanished.
He had started to wander round the post, found the gap in the ring that I had missed, and pulled his lead free. Then he went in through the out door, and looked round for me. In the meantime, I was outside, thinking horrible thoughts about dognapping and little hounds playing in traffic.
To his credit, he was sweet and charming to the staff who caught him, and didn't pee on anything or anybody. But he showed no sign of wanting to go back in with a list and a trolley to sort the weekly shop, either.
But then he is a little blokey dog. What did I expect?
Monday, 15 August 2011
Manchester - August 2011
The skanks of Manchester and Salford decided to copycat the riots in Tottenham. They had no idea about the issue which started the original London troubles. They did know they wanted to sack Manchester for trainers and tellys, booze and the craic.
But Manchester bounced back. On Wednesday the Real Mancunians turned out to clear up. By real manc, I mean someone who loves Manchester, not necessarily a Manc born.
Ashamed to say I didn't go down, so I feel I've surrendered my Manc birthright. I had spent so long watching the news coverage on Tuesday that I went to bed around 4am on Wednesday, I slept in until noon. And I didn't go out in town last week, as I was being a folky hippy at Cropredy.
But Manchester town centre will be just fine. It has survived world wars, fierce protest marches, IRA bombs, some really nasty 'redevelopment', vicious derby matches and an invasion of Scottish and Russian football fans on the lash. It will take more than some pathetic gobshites to bring it down.
But Manchester town centre will be just fine. It has survived world wars, fierce protest marches, IRA bombs, some really nasty 'redevelopment', vicious derby matches and an invasion of Scottish and Russian football fans on the lash. It will take more than some pathetic gobshites to bring it down.
Whaaat?
The last post was 9 April? Blimey.
As you'd expect, things have moved on a bit. I accepted the redundancy offer, and finished on 30 June. The day before was my birthday (it's a prime number) so we had a lot of cake, hugs, tearful promises to keep in touch and all the rest.
Then I buggered off and had a month without much contact at all.
So now, what? I have the time and money to get myself sorted out. So I'd better get on with it.
As you'd expect, things have moved on a bit. I accepted the redundancy offer, and finished on 30 June. The day before was my birthday (it's a prime number) so we had a lot of cake, hugs, tearful promises to keep in touch and all the rest.
Then I buggered off and had a month without much contact at all.
So now, what? I have the time and money to get myself sorted out. So I'd better get on with it.
Saturday, 9 April 2011
Well...
I have had the verbal offer of voluntary severance.
Wednesday.
The letter is on the way, but I work in HR and we are the last to know or get anything, when it concerns us. Manage to interfere very effectively in anyone else's affairs though.
I have 5 days or something equally daft, to decide from the date of the letter.
And if the figures add up, I'm off.
Seeing as I first started working there in October 1990 (!) it is a big deal. I wondered if I'd made a mistake in applying, but there's been a few developments recently.
Changing place, changing thoughts, changing time, changing future.
Wednesday.
The letter is on the way, but I work in HR and we are the last to know or get anything, when it concerns us. Manage to interfere very effectively in anyone else's affairs though.
I have 5 days or something equally daft, to decide from the date of the letter.
And if the figures add up, I'm off.
Seeing as I first started working there in October 1990 (!) it is a big deal. I wondered if I'd made a mistake in applying, but there's been a few developments recently.
Changing place, changing thoughts, changing time, changing future.
Thursday, 31 March 2011
Cats in cahoots
Oh, I give up.
Once again my attempts to thwart the inner domestic goddess have been foiled.
It is Spring, and the cats always celebrate this by bringing fieldmice in the house. I found the one they kindly left next to my favourite boots, but Bailey was sniffing around very enthusiastically and I suspect they have another one lurking about somewhere.
Cue full furniture moving session tomorrow, with a weekend of spring cleaning as today's exploration of the further edges of the living room revealed
I have pointed out that dead mice are not really a present I appreciate, but the suffer from Feline Selective Deafness. I suspect that this was a ploy to take my mind off work. I would have preferred booze and chocolate.
Once again my attempts to thwart the inner domestic goddess have been foiled.
It is Spring, and the cats always celebrate this by bringing fieldmice in the house. I found the one they kindly left next to my favourite boots, but Bailey was sniffing around very enthusiastically and I suspect they have another one lurking about somewhere.
Cue full furniture moving session tomorrow, with a weekend of spring cleaning as today's exploration of the further edges of the living room revealed
- an old copy of Private Eye behind the sofa
- some earrings that had fallen off the bookcase
- rather too much wallpaper clawed from the wall by Tig/Jasmine
I have pointed out that dead mice are not really a present I appreciate, but the suffer from Feline Selective Deafness. I suspect that this was a ploy to take my mind off work. I would have preferred booze and chocolate.
Monday, 14 March 2011
Changing
I love this photo.
It's in the garden at the Guggenheim in Venice. I can't remember the name of the artist, but the little girl in the photo had stood chattering at it (in English and German) for a good five minutes before her mother scooped her up. In this photo, she had just made a spirited grab for the letters on the last line. I would love to know what she made of it all.
I use a cropped version on my Facebook now and then. And right now, it feels very appropriate.
Friday, 21 January 2011
My art gallery will be opening soon-ish
I've got bored with falling over all the framed artwork in my boxroom.
It was all taken down for various reasons, and stored safely enough.
My sister thought it would be better to have a more minimalist style, and a curator's approach to my favourite works. I thought I might have the walls replastered, and painted before putting it all back. Sensible me. All very well, fine and dandy.
But that isn't going to happen, and I have the lovely special gift poster from 'The Price' just crying out for a frame and a bit of appreciation.
So, Plan B - bugger the badly painted walls, and the dodgy plaster. Just hang everything in a fantastic patchwork effect, this weekend. Why am I denying myself the pleasure of nice things, or the pain of accidentally-hammered fingers?
Oh yes, now I remember... pain and a bit of an aversion to stepladders...
The chances of opening an associated cafe and gift shop are slim, unless the pets fancy running it while I'm at work.
It was all taken down for various reasons, and stored safely enough.
My sister thought it would be better to have a more minimalist style, and a curator's approach to my favourite works. I thought I might have the walls replastered, and painted before putting it all back. Sensible me. All very well, fine and dandy.
But that isn't going to happen, and I have the lovely special gift poster from 'The Price' just crying out for a frame and a bit of appreciation.
So, Plan B - bugger the badly painted walls, and the dodgy plaster. Just hang everything in a fantastic patchwork effect, this weekend. Why am I denying myself the pleasure of nice things, or the pain of accidentally-hammered fingers?
Oh yes, now I remember... pain and a bit of an aversion to stepladders...
The chances of opening an associated cafe and gift shop are slim, unless the pets fancy running it while I'm at work.
Monday, 29 November 2010
The Price - update
So with 30 hours to go, The Price is around 85% funded.
I've pledged, and had a rather nice email from the film-maker, Christopher Salmon.
I'm chewing my nails and watching and hoping.
Thursday, 4 November 2010
The Price and the price
A bit of an update.
Bailey is now officially 'The Wonder Dog' and also a superhero. Guess who thwarted a break-in at 4.1oam, Friday 29 October?
Yup, that's right, and he has inherited the wonder-dog title from Rex the Wonder Dog, who would have approved.
Online, it transpires that an enterprising sort called Christopher Salmon is trying to film 'The Price' by Neil Gaiman.
Check out the video clip via Neil Gaiman's blog, it looks fantastic. BUT there's a snag; it can only be made if $150K is pledged by 1 December.
The story is about a fantastic cat prepared to go to any lengths to protect his family. Bailey did not go to the same lengths as the cat; but the cat had supreme evil as an adversary and Bailey only had an Oldham scally.
Under the circumstances, I think he is priceless.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
It's a bad sign...
that you've been away from something too long, when you forget the password.
Anyway, just a little update to let everyone know that the Reservoir Mogs and the Bailey the Booze Hound are fine.
The squirrel nemesis is still running around the front field, and can calculate the full length of the extension lead faster than Bailey can extend it. This has led to some good comedy moments and a niggling shoulder injury.
There is a black and white boot-face cat hanging about - he treats the place as a cafe and has no desire to move in. For now.
Bailey still has a lively social life, whereas I get home and collapse into a knackered whiny little heap. I am considering a dietary move to add dog biscuits to my food choices.
Since the last post, I visited the Whitehaven Festival, had a fantastic drive to the lakes in perfect convertible weather. Here are a few pics
There was also a Girls Night Out to Haydock, with a celebrity gatecrasher! Our mate Jackie and her dad Gerry own an events management company, she decided to have a girlie night out on Ladies Night. Meanwhile, her dad told a certain Premiership manager that he and his brother-in-law could have tickets, he's a great friend of Gerry's. So my big sis got me in a headlock, told me to behave, and I did. I am mellowing with age, and she would have thrown me off the balcony otherwise. It's on the fourth floor!
I told her I pinched his backside as he left, her expression was priceless.
Anyway, just a little update to let everyone know that the Reservoir Mogs and the Bailey the Booze Hound are fine.
The squirrel nemesis is still running around the front field, and can calculate the full length of the extension lead faster than Bailey can extend it. This has led to some good comedy moments and a niggling shoulder injury.
There is a black and white boot-face cat hanging about - he treats the place as a cafe and has no desire to move in. For now.
Bailey still has a lively social life, whereas I get home and collapse into a knackered whiny little heap. I am considering a dietary move to add dog biscuits to my food choices.
Since the last post, I visited the Whitehaven Festival, had a fantastic drive to the lakes in perfect convertible weather. Here are a few pics
There was also a Girls Night Out to Haydock, with a celebrity gatecrasher! Our mate Jackie and her dad Gerry own an events management company, she decided to have a girlie night out on Ladies Night. Meanwhile, her dad told a certain Premiership manager that he and his brother-in-law could have tickets, he's a great friend of Gerry's. So my big sis got me in a headlock, told me to behave, and I did. I am mellowing with age, and she would have thrown me off the balcony otherwise. It's on the fourth floor!
I told her I pinched his backside as he left, her expression was priceless.
Monday, 15 March 2010
The Second Mid-Life Crisis
When I was 32, I realised it was unlikely I would settle down with someone, and have the "2.2 children and half a dog" life, any time soon.
I decided to take the plunge and buy a house. As you do.
The last week of May 1996 proved a bit hectic. In the space of 3 days I got the keys to the house, had my navel pierced and acquired Eric Morecambe, Cat Legend. I wondered if it was my mid-life crisis as both my paternal grandfather and my father died aged 64 and I started to brood about it.
Two weeks later the IRA bombing of Manchester on 15 June had a profound effect on several members of my friends and family, and made me realise that nothing should be taken for granted in this world. Although they said there were no casualties, some things did go forever.
At the time I owned a little blue Mini, called Muttley. I sold it 6 months later and regretted it instantly.
Fast -forward to 2010: the house is still standing and so is Eric, but totting up the gains and losses over 14 years made me feel that I was being sad and complacent again. I applied the 'Death Bed Regret' criteria. What would I regret NOT doing, with my final breath? Obviously it had to be something I could change for myself. I decided it was time for a new MLC. I'd always wanted a convertible and the trusty Yardis was becoming a wee bit of a money pit.
So meet Muttley II.
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Cyprus Wedding
This went surprisingly well :)
Tuesday 13 October: had to send pets to bootcamp, in a lovely but remote kennels. 3 cats, 1 dog, and a dirt track that had abandoned 4-wheel drives along it. Not Chelsea tractors either, but real working Land Rovers! The Yardis is still in shock. Packing was horrendous, and I didn't get to bed at all.
Wednesday 14 October: Tyler and Phoebe were brilliantly behaved on the flight. At Nissi Beach, the Big Sis took a complete dislike to our rooms and lodged a strong suggestion they should move us. My room was fine, but the downside of beautiful mature trees is the lack of light they cause. They also hid the karaoke bar opposite, but they didn't really help the soundproofing. The kids were in a fantastic beach bungalow, beach 100 yards from front door.
Hit Ayia Napa for the hen night, which I left after the drinking game but before the karaoke. Was excused as at this point I'd been awake for 40 hours so had proved I could last the course. And the drinks were overpriced and watered down, not really worth staying for!
Thursday 15 October: did some exploring of Nissi Beach and Ayia Napa, which is beautiful out of season. Sun, sand and sheer laziness. Perfect. Throw in the superb burgers at the Pool bar and the booze, heaven.
I also found out that there were many cats in the hotel grounds, and the grounds of the adjoining pubs and restaurants. Sleek, shiny and wary, they live happily on the local furry creatures and treats from the guests, with minimal intervention from the owners. They are not pets; they are highly effective pest control.
Friday 16 October: beautiful day, beautiful venue, and the bride & groom scrubbed up quite well too! I was entrusted with a nice digital SLR, which means that Douglas has all my photos. He'll know which ones are mine, the crap ones.
My brother made a brilliant speech, so proud of him. He nearly cried when he mentioned Mum, and Kev's grandad Fred. Diane (Kev's mum) was so glad he'd mentioned Fred, as I think that sometimes people forget that strong capable mums are still someone's baby, and she was missing her dad. We've all been honest with each other about how we feel about Rosie; I think Diane had been doing the brave face thing too well.
Several members of the party ended up on the beach, some ended up in the water but no one drowned. Our venue closed at one, so it was across the road to the karaoke bar! Those formally dressed got changed for the occasion, I'm pleased to say. My brother and Rod, father of the groom, will appear on YouTube at some point with their rendition of 'You're 16', an age either has seen in 40 years.
Saturday 17 October-Tuesday 20 October: Sun, sand, food, more sun, and so on...great!
I tried quadbiking but gave up after 10 minutes. It was too much like hard labour.
Wednesday 21 October: our plans to live feral in the grounds with the hotel cats were discovered and we were dispatched to the airport pronto. Damn.
Thursday 22 October: Eric had enjoyed his stay at the cattery so much, he refused to leave. That is the BEST endorsement anyone could give! But he was caught in the end, and the scratches have nearly faded.
Tuesday 13 October: had to send pets to bootcamp, in a lovely but remote kennels. 3 cats, 1 dog, and a dirt track that had abandoned 4-wheel drives along it. Not Chelsea tractors either, but real working Land Rovers! The Yardis is still in shock. Packing was horrendous, and I didn't get to bed at all.
Wednesday 14 October: Tyler and Phoebe were brilliantly behaved on the flight. At Nissi Beach, the Big Sis took a complete dislike to our rooms and lodged a strong suggestion they should move us. My room was fine, but the downside of beautiful mature trees is the lack of light they cause. They also hid the karaoke bar opposite, but they didn't really help the soundproofing. The kids were in a fantastic beach bungalow, beach 100 yards from front door.
Hit Ayia Napa for the hen night, which I left after the drinking game but before the karaoke. Was excused as at this point I'd been awake for 40 hours so had proved I could last the course. And the drinks were overpriced and watered down, not really worth staying for!
Thursday 15 October: did some exploring of Nissi Beach and Ayia Napa, which is beautiful out of season. Sun, sand and sheer laziness. Perfect. Throw in the superb burgers at the Pool bar and the booze, heaven.
I also found out that there were many cats in the hotel grounds, and the grounds of the adjoining pubs and restaurants. Sleek, shiny and wary, they live happily on the local furry creatures and treats from the guests, with minimal intervention from the owners. They are not pets; they are highly effective pest control.
Friday 16 October: beautiful day, beautiful venue, and the bride & groom scrubbed up quite well too! I was entrusted with a nice digital SLR, which means that Douglas has all my photos. He'll know which ones are mine, the crap ones.
My brother made a brilliant speech, so proud of him. He nearly cried when he mentioned Mum, and Kev's grandad Fred. Diane (Kev's mum) was so glad he'd mentioned Fred, as I think that sometimes people forget that strong capable mums are still someone's baby, and she was missing her dad. We've all been honest with each other about how we feel about Rosie; I think Diane had been doing the brave face thing too well.
Several members of the party ended up on the beach, some ended up in the water but no one drowned. Our venue closed at one, so it was across the road to the karaoke bar! Those formally dressed got changed for the occasion, I'm pleased to say. My brother and Rod, father of the groom, will appear on YouTube at some point with their rendition of 'You're 16', an age either has seen in 40 years.
Saturday 17 October-Tuesday 20 October: Sun, sand, food, more sun, and so on...great!
I tried quadbiking but gave up after 10 minutes. It was too much like hard labour.
Wednesday 21 October: our plans to live feral in the grounds with the hotel cats were discovered and we were dispatched to the airport pronto. Damn.
Thursday 22 October: Eric had enjoyed his stay at the cattery so much, he refused to leave. That is the BEST endorsement anyone could give! But he was caught in the end, and the scratches have nearly faded.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Go Team Tootill - AND WE DID
Saturday morning, 10.30am, Tatton Park.
1600 runners (or or 1590 runners and 10 members of Team Tootill) set off round the course. We even had a team logo, thanks to our mate Pete in Graphic Support Workshop. Check it out here
And I don't know how many finished, but WE DID!
Fastest Team Tootill-pootler was Steve at 52mins 30s.
I got round in 1 hour 25, according to the DJ. So did Lisa Frowny Baby, but she did wait for me so could've crossed about 5 minutes earlier. Jolan paid the price for getting stuck in jogging traffic and finished just behind.
Our Janey McN was the last over the line, so at the goading of the DJ we legged it back and crossed the line with her. Have a sneaky peek at the Running Pictures website Our bib numbers were in the 801-900 group. Be warned this page takes forwever to download.
And we've earned a shitload of cash for Cancer Research UK, thanks to our very supportive and generous mates :)
1600 runners (or or 1590 runners and 10 members of Team Tootill) set off round the course. We even had a team logo, thanks to our mate Pete in Graphic Support Workshop. Check it out here
And I don't know how many finished, but WE DID!
Fastest Team Tootill-pootler was Steve at 52mins 30s.
I got round in 1 hour 25, according to the DJ. So did Lisa Frowny Baby, but she did wait for me so could've crossed about 5 minutes earlier. Jolan paid the price for getting stuck in jogging traffic and finished just behind.
Our Janey McN was the last over the line, so at the goading of the DJ we legged it back and crossed the line with her. Have a sneaky peek at the Running Pictures website Our bib numbers were in the 801-900 group. Be warned this page takes forwever to download.
And we've earned a shitload of cash for Cancer Research UK, thanks to our very supportive and generous mates :)
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Phoebe Jane is 1 on Friday!
Our little Phoebe is nearly a year old.
I really think she should have been born on the 10th, the day they switched on the Large Hadron Collider for the first time. With bets taken on which would destroy the Universe first ;)
Instead she choose 11th September 2008 (that's 11/9 in the UK NOT 9/11 which is four days after Guy Fawkes as any fule kno). Which means I've got til Thursday pm to find a present.
Her mum has suggested I find some kind of funky bib/jacket thingy - Phoebe is enthusiastic about feeding herself, and both she and Tyler are going to graduate to proper paints soon. Covering the house top-to-toe is a bit extreme but covering the child is eminently practical.
I feel I should really find another present too. But I really need to find something robust and interesting to the child. She seems to have a penchant for her brother's toolkit, but I haven't found a girly-ish one, yet. It needs to look different to Ty's or there will be a real scrap.
I've found a fully-functioning adult's toolbox in pink, apparently real girls can't do DIY unless they have a pink screwdriver! So I ask, is it inappropriate to give a year-old child a real toolkit?
She's very bright for her age...
I really think she should have been born on the 10th, the day they switched on the Large Hadron Collider for the first time. With bets taken on which would destroy the Universe first ;)
Instead she choose 11th September 2008 (that's 11/9 in the UK NOT 9/11 which is four days after Guy Fawkes as any fule kno). Which means I've got til Thursday pm to find a present.
Her mum has suggested I find some kind of funky bib/jacket thingy - Phoebe is enthusiastic about feeding herself, and both she and Tyler are going to graduate to proper paints soon. Covering the house top-to-toe is a bit extreme but covering the child is eminently practical.
I feel I should really find another present too. But I really need to find something robust and interesting to the child. She seems to have a penchant for her brother's toolkit, but I haven't found a girly-ish one, yet. It needs to look different to Ty's or there will be a real scrap.
I've found a fully-functioning adult's toolbox in pink, apparently real girls can't do DIY unless they have a pink screwdriver! So I ask, is it inappropriate to give a year-old child a real toolkit?
She's very bright for her age...
Monday, 20 July 2009
Bare faced cheek
To keep it brief:
A colleague in another department clashed with his boss.
This woman had been promoted beyond her level of ability - the promotion put her in charge of a department where she had no experience, and it was very tekkie so her transferable skills couldn't save her.
She and my well-qualified and experienced Colleague were on a collision course from day 1. After yet another meeting where she failed to delegate, and interferred to a point where she became dangerous, Colleague decided to quit. He was old enough to qualify for early retirement, so he took this option to get his well earned benefits.
We were out at lunchtime for his presentation.
She had made his life hell, and yet stood there and praised him in the way you would praise an elderly dog for not peeing on the carpet.
He is 56 and brilliant at his job, much missed by his colleagues.
She is now the target for a lot of revulsion and sarcastic comments.
I am wondering how this is going to pan out. His friends are talented, creative and seriously pissed off. I'm hoping their creative natures will construct some witty and extravagant revenge.
But in case that fails, they can have the box of weedkiller powder I found in the shed.
A colleague in another department clashed with his boss.
This woman had been promoted beyond her level of ability - the promotion put her in charge of a department where she had no experience, and it was very tekkie so her transferable skills couldn't save her.
She and my well-qualified and experienced Colleague were on a collision course from day 1. After yet another meeting where she failed to delegate, and interferred to a point where she became dangerous, Colleague decided to quit. He was old enough to qualify for early retirement, so he took this option to get his well earned benefits.
We were out at lunchtime for his presentation.
She had made his life hell, and yet stood there and praised him in the way you would praise an elderly dog for not peeing on the carpet.
He is 56 and brilliant at his job, much missed by his colleagues.
She is now the target for a lot of revulsion and sarcastic comments.
I am wondering how this is going to pan out. His friends are talented, creative and seriously pissed off. I'm hoping their creative natures will construct some witty and extravagant revenge.
But in case that fails, they can have the box of weedkiller powder I found in the shed.
Friday, 29 May 2009
Pigeon
My cats decided to have a friend round for Eurovision.
I was out, watching Manchester United win the Premiership, then off to dinner with my sister and cousin. So they figured it was safe.
I got home just in time to watch the voting, and settled down after closing the blinds. The pets were acting weird, nothing new there.
About 30 minutes into the voting, I noticed a pigeon's foot sticking out through the blinds. At first I thought it was too much champagne, but no - there was a pigeon sat on my windowsill, trying to blend into the dark window. It was doing just fine until it stuck the foot out for better balance.
So the Pesky Critters were shooed into the kitchen, while I tried to persuade the pigeon to leave. After 5 minutes, it had a name (Duckworth) and demonstrated some lovely swooping techniques as it evaded me, followed by some terrific crashing techiques as it landed on any unsuitable perch it could find.
Meanwhile, three very angry cats and a Jack Russell were going ballistic in the hallway. The tone was "Catch your own ******* pigeon, he's ours!"
Duckworth made it clear he was not a nocturnal pigeon and had no intention of going out into the dark to find somewhere to roost. I put him in a cat basket in the bathroom, to wait for morning. He seemed happy enough with the water and birdfood. In fact, after I let him out of the bathroom window he flew off, came back and sat on the windowsill.
I think he just wanted to annoy the cats.
I was out, watching Manchester United win the Premiership, then off to dinner with my sister and cousin. So they figured it was safe.
I got home just in time to watch the voting, and settled down after closing the blinds. The pets were acting weird, nothing new there.
About 30 minutes into the voting, I noticed a pigeon's foot sticking out through the blinds. At first I thought it was too much champagne, but no - there was a pigeon sat on my windowsill, trying to blend into the dark window. It was doing just fine until it stuck the foot out for better balance.
So the Pesky Critters were shooed into the kitchen, while I tried to persuade the pigeon to leave. After 5 minutes, it had a name (Duckworth) and demonstrated some lovely swooping techniques as it evaded me, followed by some terrific crashing techiques as it landed on any unsuitable perch it could find.
Meanwhile, three very angry cats and a Jack Russell were going ballistic in the hallway. The tone was "Catch your own ******* pigeon, he's ours!"
Duckworth made it clear he was not a nocturnal pigeon and had no intention of going out into the dark to find somewhere to roost. I put him in a cat basket in the bathroom, to wait for morning. He seemed happy enough with the water and birdfood. In fact, after I let him out of the bathroom window he flew off, came back and sat on the windowsill.
I think he just wanted to annoy the cats.
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