Daisy Turnip writes.....
For the last few days, I’ve been watching a spider build a pretty enormous cobweb in our garden, just outside the back door. The cobweb runs between a large potted plant over to the garage.
The spider is rather chunky and has multi coloured legs and body. I really don’t like spiders but have watched impressively from a far, as it built a masterpiece of cobwebby art.
The other morning, I went to peg out some washing - wet clothes in one hand and a handful of pegs in another. Silly me, I forgot all about the cobweb. In one quick stride I destroyed the cobweb! As I did so, it felt like walking into candy floss and it sounded like electricity running around my face, as my head ploughed through the middle of the cobweb. At this point I remembered that chunky spider. It was then that I started screaming and went to flick the spider out from my hair or face, or wherever it had landed. As I did so, I swiftly moved the hand that was holding the pegs, up to my face and ended up punching my face – this was shortly followed with a lump of my forehead! I simultaneously stomped up and down on the ground, as I shouted out, ‘urggh, urggh, where is it?’
The spider couldn’t be seen anywhere! However, there on the floor, lay my beautiful designer Armani glasses. Smashed lenses and mangled frames!
I’m pleased to know that the optician thought it was very funny!
Wednesday, 19 September 2007
Monday, 6 August 2007
Intelligent Sat Nav Systems??
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Are satnav systems that clever?
Tomorrow I’m off to Merthyr Tydfil. I have to be there for 9am!! On checking the online navigation system, the AA tells me, it will take 2hrs and 23 minutes. However, my super dooper sat nav system, it tells me it’ll only take me 1hr 50.
Both systems give me the same route!
Does my satnav system know I’ll drive a little faster than the average, or is there something wrong with one of the systems?
When it comes to setting my alarm when I go to bed in 10 minutes time, which one should I trust? Oh, decisions decisions!
Are satnav systems that clever?
Tomorrow I’m off to Merthyr Tydfil. I have to be there for 9am!! On checking the online navigation system, the AA tells me, it will take 2hrs and 23 minutes. However, my super dooper sat nav system, it tells me it’ll only take me 1hr 50.
Both systems give me the same route!
Does my satnav system know I’ll drive a little faster than the average, or is there something wrong with one of the systems?
When it comes to setting my alarm when I go to bed in 10 minutes time, which one should I trust? Oh, decisions decisions!
Thursday, 2 August 2007
Passport for a VERY bad hair day.
Daisy Turnip writes.....
At the weekend we booked a holiday in France for the 3rd week of this month.
On Monday I realised my passport had expired last month! Can you imagine the major panic in our household the moment the penny dropped! Hubby was amazing and simply said, ‘I asked you 3 weeks ago if your passport was ok’. This was followed by a shake of his head, as he walked out the door to go to work!
I’ve a very busy week this week - several appointments across the regions, an application form to complete for my own job (internal restructure) and a list of ‘things to do’ as long as the M6 motorway! So time is very pretty short this week. At 9am yesterday morning, I was waiting for the doors of the post office to open. Once unlocked, I ran in, grabbed a passport renewal form and shouted to the Postmaster if I needed to get my photograph countersigned again. He looked at my old passport and said, ‘oh, you’ve not changed that much, you might just get away with it’ ‘Fantastic’ I said, no need to have to drive to Birmingham to get a friend of mine to sign the photograph.
The photography shop, next door to the post office is closed on a Wednesday! Typical! I therefore I had to get a passport photo from elsewhere! Damn. Although I did run back to the car feeling rather smug, safe in the knowledge that 10 years haven’t taken a major toll on my face – ok, that is, apart from the emergence of a double chin and chubbier cheeks – they must help me keep a youthful appearance!
I then did my very best Lewis Hamilton impression and drove to the supermarket within break neck speed. I continued my new training programme, by running across the car park, skidded to the check out, bought a packet of polos (in order to get change for the photo machine) and the shop assistant took me to where the booth was. I jumped in, quickly combed my hair, put some lipstick on and then composed myself in order not to look like a terrorist for the photo that will remain on my passport for the next 10 year period.
Forty-five seconds later the photos popped out of the machine!! Amazing that it’s so quick. But, it just doesn’t feel the same as it did when you used to use the one in Woolies all those years ago - you and 6 of your best friends crammed into a photo booth, preparing for 4 different images and then having to wait half an hour, whilst arguing over who would have the best ones and who would get none at all.
And so, images in hand, I Lewis Hamiltoned back to the post office car park, sat in the car and filled out the form, ran back in and queued to see the Postmaster for the second time that morning.
Disaster stuck – he wouldn’t accept the photo! Did I look too much like a terrorist!? Obviously – my fringe was too long and ‘it’s not acceptable – YOU will be rejected’ he said! Well, I know how that feels I thought.
I was now beginning to worry about time – I was supposed to be at home beavering away with all the things that needed to be done for work! ‘Would you like some scissors and a mirror?’ Mr Postmaster laughed. ‘Yes’ I snapped. He asked me if I was being serious. I thought for a second, thinking I have actually promised my hairdresser that I would stop trimming my own fringe. Emergency situations require emergency responses! ‘Yes, can I have a mirror and scissors please?’ I then set up a mini hairdressers in the post office! The woman behind the till in the stationary part of the shop, very kindly offered me a chair and a bin to catch the cuttings! By this point I had lost all concern and worry of being embarrassed. I caught a couple of people looking - I just lowered the mirror, smiled and said ‘Passport reject for having too long a fringe!’
A few old folk in the shop started chuntering and muttering about the government, europe and too many regulations these days. Yeah brother, too right!!
I then had a major deja vue moment as I ran back to the car park, Lewis Hamiltoned to the supermarket, bought some more polos and had more photographs taken. As I came out of the photo booth, the shop assistant, who first showed me where it was, saw me and did a double double take! I looked at her, just laughed and shook my head – no, I have no time to explain!!
Back at the post office – Hooray, my photo was accepted and they reckon it should be back in time for my holiday. Fingers, legs and all twiddly bits crossed for the next couple of weeks.
As soon as I got home, I sat down and started to go through my morning emails. My boss had sent me an email at the end she asked if all was well and had I got my passport sorted? I replied with, ‘Passport – after having my pic refused because my fringe is too long and then having TWO sets of photos done and trimming my fringe IN THE POST OFFICE (in between both sets of pics being taken) – it’s now been sent! I now, however, have a very short and very wonky fringe! Hey ho’
Boss’s response: ‘Well you have just made me laugh out loud about the fringe!! That's hilarious!!’
My response back: ‘Hilarious – I can just hear you! : ) I look like some school kid who has a mother with a basin and a pair of blunt scissors!’
She then asked me to send a copy of the photograph!
I obviously don’t have the same sense of humour of Anna! : )
Anyone want a polo?
At the weekend we booked a holiday in France for the 3rd week of this month.
On Monday I realised my passport had expired last month! Can you imagine the major panic in our household the moment the penny dropped! Hubby was amazing and simply said, ‘I asked you 3 weeks ago if your passport was ok’. This was followed by a shake of his head, as he walked out the door to go to work!
I’ve a very busy week this week - several appointments across the regions, an application form to complete for my own job (internal restructure) and a list of ‘things to do’ as long as the M6 motorway! So time is very pretty short this week. At 9am yesterday morning, I was waiting for the doors of the post office to open. Once unlocked, I ran in, grabbed a passport renewal form and shouted to the Postmaster if I needed to get my photograph countersigned again. He looked at my old passport and said, ‘oh, you’ve not changed that much, you might just get away with it’ ‘Fantastic’ I said, no need to have to drive to Birmingham to get a friend of mine to sign the photograph.
The photography shop, next door to the post office is closed on a Wednesday! Typical! I therefore I had to get a passport photo from elsewhere! Damn. Although I did run back to the car feeling rather smug, safe in the knowledge that 10 years haven’t taken a major toll on my face – ok, that is, apart from the emergence of a double chin and chubbier cheeks – they must help me keep a youthful appearance!
I then did my very best Lewis Hamilton impression and drove to the supermarket within break neck speed. I continued my new training programme, by running across the car park, skidded to the check out, bought a packet of polos (in order to get change for the photo machine) and the shop assistant took me to where the booth was. I jumped in, quickly combed my hair, put some lipstick on and then composed myself in order not to look like a terrorist for the photo that will remain on my passport for the next 10 year period.
Forty-five seconds later the photos popped out of the machine!! Amazing that it’s so quick. But, it just doesn’t feel the same as it did when you used to use the one in Woolies all those years ago - you and 6 of your best friends crammed into a photo booth, preparing for 4 different images and then having to wait half an hour, whilst arguing over who would have the best ones and who would get none at all.
And so, images in hand, I Lewis Hamiltoned back to the post office car park, sat in the car and filled out the form, ran back in and queued to see the Postmaster for the second time that morning.
Disaster stuck – he wouldn’t accept the photo! Did I look too much like a terrorist!? Obviously – my fringe was too long and ‘it’s not acceptable – YOU will be rejected’ he said! Well, I know how that feels I thought.
I was now beginning to worry about time – I was supposed to be at home beavering away with all the things that needed to be done for work! ‘Would you like some scissors and a mirror?’ Mr Postmaster laughed. ‘Yes’ I snapped. He asked me if I was being serious. I thought for a second, thinking I have actually promised my hairdresser that I would stop trimming my own fringe. Emergency situations require emergency responses! ‘Yes, can I have a mirror and scissors please?’ I then set up a mini hairdressers in the post office! The woman behind the till in the stationary part of the shop, very kindly offered me a chair and a bin to catch the cuttings! By this point I had lost all concern and worry of being embarrassed. I caught a couple of people looking - I just lowered the mirror, smiled and said ‘Passport reject for having too long a fringe!’
A few old folk in the shop started chuntering and muttering about the government, europe and too many regulations these days. Yeah brother, too right!!
I then had a major deja vue moment as I ran back to the car park, Lewis Hamiltoned to the supermarket, bought some more polos and had more photographs taken. As I came out of the photo booth, the shop assistant, who first showed me where it was, saw me and did a double double take! I looked at her, just laughed and shook my head – no, I have no time to explain!!
Back at the post office – Hooray, my photo was accepted and they reckon it should be back in time for my holiday. Fingers, legs and all twiddly bits crossed for the next couple of weeks.
As soon as I got home, I sat down and started to go through my morning emails. My boss had sent me an email at the end she asked if all was well and had I got my passport sorted? I replied with, ‘Passport – after having my pic refused because my fringe is too long and then having TWO sets of photos done and trimming my fringe IN THE POST OFFICE (in between both sets of pics being taken) – it’s now been sent! I now, however, have a very short and very wonky fringe! Hey ho’
Boss’s response: ‘Well you have just made me laugh out loud about the fringe!! That's hilarious!!’
My response back: ‘Hilarious – I can just hear you! : ) I look like some school kid who has a mother with a basin and a pair of blunt scissors!’
She then asked me to send a copy of the photograph!
I obviously don’t have the same sense of humour of Anna! : )
Anyone want a polo?
Friday, 20 July 2007
Talk Like A Brummie Day
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Did you know it’s talk like a brummie day today? A day where everyone across the world should talk with the fantastic brummie accent – arr, uurright!
Please note, I’m a black country girl, so there is a big difference in the accent, but it’s close enough geographically, so here’s to ‘Talk Like a Brummie Day’
For further information, go to http://talklikeabrummieday.co.uk/
Did you know it’s talk like a brummie day today? A day where everyone across the world should talk with the fantastic brummie accent – arr, uurright!
Please note, I’m a black country girl, so there is a big difference in the accent, but it’s close enough geographically, so here’s to ‘Talk Like a Brummie Day’
For further information, go to http://talklikeabrummieday.co.uk/
Monday, 16 July 2007
Composted Tea Bags
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Our compost bin finally arrived just over a month ago and we are now religiously composting our food and garden waste (well, when I say ‘we’ – it’s the adult ‘we’ – teenager Daughter is a little on the forgetful side!) – I’m now even beginning to understand the requirements of a good mix of both green and brown waste!! Trust me, it’s a whole new language! However, I’m a little worried about the amount of tea bags that’s going in there – can there be too many tea bags in a compost bin?? We go through hundreds of the damn things – I’m sure we’ll end up with tea flavoured compost!
For all you old timers out there, as we trek across the garden, carrying our rubbish to the compost bin, we can be regularly heard shouting, ‘Compost corner’ and for all you youngsters, we occasionally chant, ‘We are recycling, we are recycling’ – the MacDonalds advert!?!
Our fortnightly recycling collection picks up the newspapers, glasses and tins but we have to take cardboard and plastics (‘bottles only’ said the recycling adviser, who firmly to me when I asked him to explain what PET etc etc was) to the local recycling centre – Hubby will only allow me - he’s put his foot down with a big hefty cotton woolly slipper! - to make the trip if we happen to be driving anywhere near the centre. His argument is that a special drive out to the recycling place negates what we are actually recycling in materials. This is true, but I’m a little suspicious of the fact that it’s more to do with the fact that he hates queuing for the pleasure of such boring activity!?
So,more or less, we are recycling all of our home waste now.
I know I’m going to sound a little bit like an anorak here, but it’s becoming a bit of a weekly challenge to see how little rubbish we can actually chuck out. I’ve just emptied the bin – the bag has been in the bin since last Thursday. I’m seriously chuffed, however I have noticed an increase in the number of flies in our house!!
Our compost bin finally arrived just over a month ago and we are now religiously composting our food and garden waste (well, when I say ‘we’ – it’s the adult ‘we’ – teenager Daughter is a little on the forgetful side!) – I’m now even beginning to understand the requirements of a good mix of both green and brown waste!! Trust me, it’s a whole new language! However, I’m a little worried about the amount of tea bags that’s going in there – can there be too many tea bags in a compost bin?? We go through hundreds of the damn things – I’m sure we’ll end up with tea flavoured compost!
For all you old timers out there, as we trek across the garden, carrying our rubbish to the compost bin, we can be regularly heard shouting, ‘Compost corner’ and for all you youngsters, we occasionally chant, ‘We are recycling, we are recycling’ – the MacDonalds advert!?!
Our fortnightly recycling collection picks up the newspapers, glasses and tins but we have to take cardboard and plastics (‘bottles only’ said the recycling adviser, who firmly to me when I asked him to explain what PET etc etc was) to the local recycling centre – Hubby will only allow me - he’s put his foot down with a big hefty cotton woolly slipper! - to make the trip if we happen to be driving anywhere near the centre. His argument is that a special drive out to the recycling place negates what we are actually recycling in materials. This is true, but I’m a little suspicious of the fact that it’s more to do with the fact that he hates queuing for the pleasure of such boring activity!?
So,more or less, we are recycling all of our home waste now.
I know I’m going to sound a little bit like an anorak here, but it’s becoming a bit of a weekly challenge to see how little rubbish we can actually chuck out. I’ve just emptied the bin – the bag has been in the bin since last Thursday. I’m seriously chuffed, however I have noticed an increase in the number of flies in our house!!
The Morning Zombie
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Favourite Nephew came to stay with favourite Aunt this weekend.
As my husband has work down in Nephew’s neck of the woods, he decided to take him home this morning, on the agreement that it would be an early start.
5.45am I gave said Nephew his early morning wake up call! A grunt came from beneath the duvet. I went downstairs and made us all a drink and then went back upstairs to see if he was ok. He was still underneath the duvet sleeping like a baby!! Why does that not surprise me: - ) I gave him another call (and a quick slap around the head, just to make sure) - another grunt came back at me.
Fifteen minutes later, a specimen of a teenager appeared in the kitchen, grunted, sat down at the table, drank his hot chocolate, grunted again as he gave me a hug as he left with Hubby on their trip back ‘darn sarf’
I love my favourite Nephew. I think next time he’ll probably opt to catch the late train back home!
Favourite Nephew came to stay with favourite Aunt this weekend.
As my husband has work down in Nephew’s neck of the woods, he decided to take him home this morning, on the agreement that it would be an early start.
5.45am I gave said Nephew his early morning wake up call! A grunt came from beneath the duvet. I went downstairs and made us all a drink and then went back upstairs to see if he was ok. He was still underneath the duvet sleeping like a baby!! Why does that not surprise me: - ) I gave him another call (and a quick slap around the head, just to make sure) - another grunt came back at me.
Fifteen minutes later, a specimen of a teenager appeared in the kitchen, grunted, sat down at the table, drank his hot chocolate, grunted again as he gave me a hug as he left with Hubby on their trip back ‘darn sarf’
I love my favourite Nephew. I think next time he’ll probably opt to catch the late train back home!
Wednesday, 11 July 2007
Now You See Them, Now You Don’t
Daisy Turnip writes.....
We have a very large cherry tree in our back garden. Every summer we see the cherries appear, turn slightly pink, the tree then begins to shake violently and then suddenly all the cherries have gone! Vanished! Zilch!
The tree shakes due to the large numbers of birds merrily sitting in the branches, stuffing their beaks with OUR cherries. Seriously, we’ve never had one single ripe cherry from that tree.
This year, due to all the rain that we’ve been having there have been fewer birds in the garden. Last week, the cherries were nearly red and we foolishly thought that we’d be eating ripe cherries very soon, for the first time ever.
And then, the rain stopped. The cherries are just a few days off from being ripe and ready to eat and the tree has started to shake again. The bottom branches now have no cherries, and for yet another year, it looks like there’ll be no cherries for us!
Do you think it would be worth putting out a sign for the birds, ‘Nuts and feeders are over the other side of the garden!’
We have a very large cherry tree in our back garden. Every summer we see the cherries appear, turn slightly pink, the tree then begins to shake violently and then suddenly all the cherries have gone! Vanished! Zilch!
The tree shakes due to the large numbers of birds merrily sitting in the branches, stuffing their beaks with OUR cherries. Seriously, we’ve never had one single ripe cherry from that tree.
This year, due to all the rain that we’ve been having there have been fewer birds in the garden. Last week, the cherries were nearly red and we foolishly thought that we’d be eating ripe cherries very soon, for the first time ever.
And then, the rain stopped. The cherries are just a few days off from being ripe and ready to eat and the tree has started to shake again. The bottom branches now have no cherries, and for yet another year, it looks like there’ll be no cherries for us!
Do you think it would be worth putting out a sign for the birds, ‘Nuts and feeders are over the other side of the garden!’
Welcome to the World of Work
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Daughter has broken up from college for the summer. During the summer break she will be working most days but requires a lift to get there as there is no public transport available. She therefore needs a lift from Mother! If I’m home on that day it’s no problem as I can take her as it’s only a 10 minute trip up the motorway. However, bit of a problem - I’m not home based most days. This therefore gives her a dilemma of how can she get to work. Coming home is no problem as Hubby or I are usually available most evenings.
I suggested she offers to pay someone £5 to take her to work, as and when required. She moaned at this. Yes, of course silly me, she’s never had to pay parents to shuttle her round in her hectic social, college, social or working life style. I suggested I gave up work so that I’m at her beck and call! She liked that idea, and then I said, ‘oh, if I’m not working, I don’t need a car’ – bit of a catch 22 situation.
Daughter has therefore done a deal with someone in the village to take her to work on an ad hoc basis.
She has a 3 hour shift one day next week and I’m not here to drop her off at work. She’s therefore got to pay someone virtually a third of the wages she’s going to earn that day. She’s gutted!
Welcome to our world!
Daughter has broken up from college for the summer. During the summer break she will be working most days but requires a lift to get there as there is no public transport available. She therefore needs a lift from Mother! If I’m home on that day it’s no problem as I can take her as it’s only a 10 minute trip up the motorway. However, bit of a problem - I’m not home based most days. This therefore gives her a dilemma of how can she get to work. Coming home is no problem as Hubby or I are usually available most evenings.
I suggested she offers to pay someone £5 to take her to work, as and when required. She moaned at this. Yes, of course silly me, she’s never had to pay parents to shuttle her round in her hectic social, college, social or working life style. I suggested I gave up work so that I’m at her beck and call! She liked that idea, and then I said, ‘oh, if I’m not working, I don’t need a car’ – bit of a catch 22 situation.
Daughter has therefore done a deal with someone in the village to take her to work on an ad hoc basis.
She has a 3 hour shift one day next week and I’m not here to drop her off at work. She’s therefore got to pay someone virtually a third of the wages she’s going to earn that day. She’s gutted!
Welcome to our world!
Wall Eating Wasps
Daisy Turnip writes.....
We’ve had a wasps nest in the eaves of our house for quite a while now. They haven’t bothered us so we were quite happy to leave it there.
At the weekend I walked into the bedroom and could hear this strange noise – a little bit like rain drops gently falling on the window ledge. Strangely, for the middle of this English summer time, the weather was glorious outside and not a drop of rain could be either seen or felt. To my horror I realised it was the wasps nest behind the wall!
Monday morning I rang the pest control team at our local council who informed me they’d love to come and get rid of it for us and would equally love to charge us £50 for the pleasure of doing so. I begrudgingly agreed and was then informed, “Someone will call you in 24 hours to arrange a visit”
No one called.
This morning I went into the spare room and could seriously hear the wasps behind the wall. I walked right up to the wall and then spotted that part of the wall – about the size of a 10 pence piece was coming away from the rest of the wall. Adrenalin rush extraordinaire! Oh my God, the wasps are coming through the wall I thought. Then I calmed down and thought this couldn’t be so.
I rang the pest control team and asked why no one had called and what had happened to the visit. I then, slightly embarrassed by asking the question, asked if they could eat their way through a wall, “oh yes, came the reply” aaarrrrrggggghhh, “Would you make that call out an urgent one then please?” I screeched as I quickly ran upstairs and pushed back the plaster into the wall and carefully ripped off a whole tape of sellotape, trying to seal the broken plaster back into the wall.
Luckily, the lovely Neil turned up an hour or so later and gave me all the gory stories behind the life and times of being a ‘wasp man’ – twice this week he’s been on call outs where the wasps have eaten their way through the plaster board of both a wall and a ceiling. Talking and writing about it is seriously giving me the heebygeebies!
Anyway, Neil sprayed his potion into the eaves and then snatched a cheque from me and said, “All should be fine within the next few hours, you might see minor activity for the next couple of weeks, but if there’s anything more after 14 days, give me a call and I’ll be back” – thanks Arnie of the wasp world!
I’ll do nothing about the wall and the sellotape until a fortnight then? Any visitors can just assume we’re holding up the wall with sellotape. I’m not going to mention the wasps!
I later rang a colleague, who had slept in the room only just over a week ago. She’s now receiving counselling for mental trauma. She too thought she was going mad as she thought she could hear rain but when she looked out of the window could only see sunshine. In her head, she can now permanently hear the sound of wasps buzzing behind the wall at the side of the bed!!
Biodiversity in my eaves – you can stick it thanks!!
We’ve had a wasps nest in the eaves of our house for quite a while now. They haven’t bothered us so we were quite happy to leave it there.
At the weekend I walked into the bedroom and could hear this strange noise – a little bit like rain drops gently falling on the window ledge. Strangely, for the middle of this English summer time, the weather was glorious outside and not a drop of rain could be either seen or felt. To my horror I realised it was the wasps nest behind the wall!
Monday morning I rang the pest control team at our local council who informed me they’d love to come and get rid of it for us and would equally love to charge us £50 for the pleasure of doing so. I begrudgingly agreed and was then informed, “Someone will call you in 24 hours to arrange a visit”
No one called.
This morning I went into the spare room and could seriously hear the wasps behind the wall. I walked right up to the wall and then spotted that part of the wall – about the size of a 10 pence piece was coming away from the rest of the wall. Adrenalin rush extraordinaire! Oh my God, the wasps are coming through the wall I thought. Then I calmed down and thought this couldn’t be so.
I rang the pest control team and asked why no one had called and what had happened to the visit. I then, slightly embarrassed by asking the question, asked if they could eat their way through a wall, “oh yes, came the reply” aaarrrrrggggghhh, “Would you make that call out an urgent one then please?” I screeched as I quickly ran upstairs and pushed back the plaster into the wall and carefully ripped off a whole tape of sellotape, trying to seal the broken plaster back into the wall.
Luckily, the lovely Neil turned up an hour or so later and gave me all the gory stories behind the life and times of being a ‘wasp man’ – twice this week he’s been on call outs where the wasps have eaten their way through the plaster board of both a wall and a ceiling. Talking and writing about it is seriously giving me the heebygeebies!
Anyway, Neil sprayed his potion into the eaves and then snatched a cheque from me and said, “All should be fine within the next few hours, you might see minor activity for the next couple of weeks, but if there’s anything more after 14 days, give me a call and I’ll be back” – thanks Arnie of the wasp world!
I’ll do nothing about the wall and the sellotape until a fortnight then? Any visitors can just assume we’re holding up the wall with sellotape. I’m not going to mention the wasps!
I later rang a colleague, who had slept in the room only just over a week ago. She’s now receiving counselling for mental trauma. She too thought she was going mad as she thought she could hear rain but when she looked out of the window could only see sunshine. In her head, she can now permanently hear the sound of wasps buzzing behind the wall at the side of the bed!!
Biodiversity in my eaves – you can stick it thanks!!
Thursday, 5 July 2007
Men eh – Just Typical!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
A friend rang me the other night to tell me she had driven her car through the front door of her house, straight into her hall!
Apparently, it was the fault of her husband who just happened to be 20 miles away at work at the time!! He had left the car parked ‘in gear’ the previous evening – tut tut, shame on him!!
At the time, her youngest child was already in the car, the middle child was putting his shoes on in the kitchen – luckily he wasn’t in the hall and her eldest child was upstairs getting ready for school.
Since the accident, the first thing she now hears the kids do as soon as they get into the car is a hurried ‘clunk clink’ of the seat belt. And the eldest child – he’s now offered to walk to school. Something she’s been trying to get him to do for several months now! : )
See, every cloud has a silver lining.
A friend rang me the other night to tell me she had driven her car through the front door of her house, straight into her hall!
Apparently, it was the fault of her husband who just happened to be 20 miles away at work at the time!! He had left the car parked ‘in gear’ the previous evening – tut tut, shame on him!!
At the time, her youngest child was already in the car, the middle child was putting his shoes on in the kitchen – luckily he wasn’t in the hall and her eldest child was upstairs getting ready for school.
Since the accident, the first thing she now hears the kids do as soon as they get into the car is a hurried ‘clunk clink’ of the seat belt. And the eldest child – he’s now offered to walk to school. Something she’s been trying to get him to do for several months now! : )
See, every cloud has a silver lining.
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
Fairy Good
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Remember my colleague who has problems with all the trains across the UK? He sent me the following text whilst sitting on a train
‘I accidentally put my iPod in the washing machine yesterday and when I fished it out I thought I would have to send it to that great Mac shop (he’s a Mac freak, btw) in the sky. Not so. Currently listening to Mozart.
He makes my day: )
Remember my colleague who has problems with all the trains across the UK? He sent me the following text whilst sitting on a train
‘I accidentally put my iPod in the washing machine yesterday and when I fished it out I thought I would have to send it to that great Mac shop (he’s a Mac freak, btw) in the sky. Not so. Currently listening to Mozart.
He makes my day: )
To the dedicated Traffic Wardens of Tameside
Daisy Turnip writes.....
To the dedicated Traffic Wardens of Tameside
Yesterday I had to go to Manchester for a meeting. I set off in plenty of time and tootled up the M40, M42 and M6. At the end of the M6 part of the journey I hit traffic. Very heavy traffic. I sat and watched as my satnav system kept updating me on the fact that I was going to be late for my meeting. And then the heavens opened and it didn’t stop.
By the time I got to my meeting destination it was torrential rain fall. I pulled onto the car park and drove to the pay and display machine to get my ticket. In the minute it took me to put my money into the machine I was drenched – seriously, my hair that was perfectly washed and groomed that morning, now looked as if I’d just got out of the shower! And then all the money came out the bottom of the machine and therefore wouldn’t let me purchase a ticket.
As the rain was still hammering down, I jumped into the car and drove to the other end of the car park and tried the other pay and display machine – the same thing happened.
A huge clap of thunder burst above my head. It made myself and another woman who was waiting at the machine jump so much. It was really very scary. She then informed me the other machine wasn’t working too.
I therefore gave up, scribbled a note and left it on my windscreen telling the lovely traffic wardens of Tameside that the machines weren’t working and I couldn’t purchase a ticket. As I scribbled the note I thought to myself that no one in this weather would be mad enough to be looking to issue tickets to poor, unsuspecting car drivers.
I had my meeting and walked back to the car. And there, right above my note to the traffic warden, was a ticket stuck to my windscreen!
Are you immune to torrential rain ‘upt north?!
Happy Monday!
To the dedicated Traffic Wardens of Tameside
Yesterday I had to go to Manchester for a meeting. I set off in plenty of time and tootled up the M40, M42 and M6. At the end of the M6 part of the journey I hit traffic. Very heavy traffic. I sat and watched as my satnav system kept updating me on the fact that I was going to be late for my meeting. And then the heavens opened and it didn’t stop.
By the time I got to my meeting destination it was torrential rain fall. I pulled onto the car park and drove to the pay and display machine to get my ticket. In the minute it took me to put my money into the machine I was drenched – seriously, my hair that was perfectly washed and groomed that morning, now looked as if I’d just got out of the shower! And then all the money came out the bottom of the machine and therefore wouldn’t let me purchase a ticket.
As the rain was still hammering down, I jumped into the car and drove to the other end of the car park and tried the other pay and display machine – the same thing happened.
A huge clap of thunder burst above my head. It made myself and another woman who was waiting at the machine jump so much. It was really very scary. She then informed me the other machine wasn’t working too.
I therefore gave up, scribbled a note and left it on my windscreen telling the lovely traffic wardens of Tameside that the machines weren’t working and I couldn’t purchase a ticket. As I scribbled the note I thought to myself that no one in this weather would be mad enough to be looking to issue tickets to poor, unsuspecting car drivers.
I had my meeting and walked back to the car. And there, right above my note to the traffic warden, was a ticket stuck to my windscreen!
Are you immune to torrential rain ‘upt north?!
Happy Monday!
Sunday, 24 June 2007
They must have been truly evil in a previous life
Daisy Turnip writes.....
My Hubby’s cousin, her other half and their three young kids have just left! The parents must have been seriously evil in a previous life.
I am knackered!! Completely and utterly knackered!
Hubby, who is chief kid’s entertainer, was up at 7.30am playing with the kids and then took them down to the park with the dog – all before 9am on a Sunday morning! Impressive! He’s now totally passed out on the sofa!
The kids are gorgeous, so very very well behaved, but energy, where on earth do kids get their energy from? A weekend has totally wiped me out – actually, it’s not even a full weekend, they arrived at 5pm’ish on Saturday evening. How do parents manage 24/7?
I’m off to bed!
My Hubby’s cousin, her other half and their three young kids have just left! The parents must have been seriously evil in a previous life.
I am knackered!! Completely and utterly knackered!
Hubby, who is chief kid’s entertainer, was up at 7.30am playing with the kids and then took them down to the park with the dog – all before 9am on a Sunday morning! Impressive! He’s now totally passed out on the sofa!
The kids are gorgeous, so very very well behaved, but energy, where on earth do kids get their energy from? A weekend has totally wiped me out – actually, it’s not even a full weekend, they arrived at 5pm’ish on Saturday evening. How do parents manage 24/7?
I’m off to bed!
Saturday, 23 June 2007
Can You Hear Me Mother?
Daisy Turnip writes.....
I recently changed my car and with my old car going, so did my built in hands free ‘phone kit. Not being able to use the phone whilst driving has become a bit of a problem and along with my current job, getting lost around new towns and cities was also driving me insane. I therefore treated myself to a satnav system with built in bluetooth for hands free phone calls.
The Bluetooth is not brilliant and no way compares to the quality of my old system. My mother called me whilst I was driving! The conversation went as follows:-
Mom: Hello, Michelle, are you there?
Me: Hi Mom, yes, I’m here.
Mom: You sound strange, what’s the matter?
Me: Nothing, it’s this new hands free system, it’s not very good.
Mom: Are you sure you’re ok?
Me: Yes mom, I’m fine, it’s the car kit, it’s no good.
Mom: Ok, you sound strange. Have you got your hayfever then?
Me: Mom, I’m 39 years old, I’ve never had hayfever!
Hmmmm!!
I recently changed my car and with my old car going, so did my built in hands free ‘phone kit. Not being able to use the phone whilst driving has become a bit of a problem and along with my current job, getting lost around new towns and cities was also driving me insane. I therefore treated myself to a satnav system with built in bluetooth for hands free phone calls.
The Bluetooth is not brilliant and no way compares to the quality of my old system. My mother called me whilst I was driving! The conversation went as follows:-
Mom: Hello, Michelle, are you there?
Me: Hi Mom, yes, I’m here.
Mom: You sound strange, what’s the matter?
Me: Nothing, it’s this new hands free system, it’s not very good.
Mom: Are you sure you’re ok?
Me: Yes mom, I’m fine, it’s the car kit, it’s no good.
Mom: Ok, you sound strange. Have you got your hayfever then?
Me: Mom, I’m 39 years old, I’ve never had hayfever!
Hmmmm!!
Friday, 15 June 2007
Ben Nevis – The Three Peak Challenge
Daisy Turnip writes.....
We came, we saw, we conquered and I hobbled for a week in absolute agony!
But it was simply awesome and worth every single ache and every single pain.
When we finally got to the top of Ben Nevis – we went up the tourist route – by God, they should have just tarmac’d it, the route is so easy to follow, there was several foot of snow at the top and visibility was incredibly poor. So we sat there and ate our sandwiches, had a cup of coffee and then suddenly the cloud lifted and the sun appeared and there before us was this AMAZING view of the surrounding mountains. Everyone just stood speechless and this was quickly followed with many gasps and ‘awwww, look at that’.
Going back down was the killer. We left the tourist route and took a more direct route. A more direct route means it’s more of a vertical challenge which means it hurts more. They should put a knee pain indicator on all the OS maps! It would seriously mean we picked our routes with greater concentration.
We were nearly at the foot of Ben Nevis, when we came across a team of walkers going up. We said hello and asked if they were ‘going all the way?’ they informed us they’d just started the 3 peak challenge. I told them, that once at the bottom, I will have just finished mine – they looked surprised until I added that instead of the usual 24 hour challenge, it had only taken me 6 years to complete!! I’m chuffed anyway. Being the trophy hunter that I am, I can now tick off my list, each of the highest peaks for England, Scotland and Wales.
We came, we saw, we conquered and I hobbled for a week in absolute agony!
But it was simply awesome and worth every single ache and every single pain.
When we finally got to the top of Ben Nevis – we went up the tourist route – by God, they should have just tarmac’d it, the route is so easy to follow, there was several foot of snow at the top and visibility was incredibly poor. So we sat there and ate our sandwiches, had a cup of coffee and then suddenly the cloud lifted and the sun appeared and there before us was this AMAZING view of the surrounding mountains. Everyone just stood speechless and this was quickly followed with many gasps and ‘awwww, look at that’.
Going back down was the killer. We left the tourist route and took a more direct route. A more direct route means it’s more of a vertical challenge which means it hurts more. They should put a knee pain indicator on all the OS maps! It would seriously mean we picked our routes with greater concentration.
We were nearly at the foot of Ben Nevis, when we came across a team of walkers going up. We said hello and asked if they were ‘going all the way?’ they informed us they’d just started the 3 peak challenge. I told them, that once at the bottom, I will have just finished mine – they looked surprised until I added that instead of the usual 24 hour challenge, it had only taken me 6 years to complete!! I’m chuffed anyway. Being the trophy hunter that I am, I can now tick off my list, each of the highest peaks for England, Scotland and Wales.
Scotland in a tent with rain, Grease and a laptop – Just Perfect
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Once in the Highlands, our plan was to walk Ben Nevis, we pitched our tent at the Glen Nevis campsite. If you ever plan to walk Ben Nevis and camp, stay here. The site was super, the staff are great and it sits more or less at the very foot of Ben Nevis in the most spectacular setting. We sat outside the tent, just looking up and around us at this most magnificent view – BBC Spring Watch eat your heart out. It was totally breathtaking.
The only downside was the midgies – millions of the pesky things. When we arrived, we saw loads of people wearing ‘things’ over their heads – it looked like there had been a nuclear or severe chemical accident on the campsite and a team of specialist chemical ‘cleaneruppers’ were there – this is what they were wearing. We chuckled! An hour later, we too were part of the clean up operation!
Fortunately, not long after we arrived the rain started and the number of midgies reduced considerably. Great. Or may be not – it just didn’t stop raining. Rain, rain, rain, rain and more rain fell. Even with all the proper walking gear, when the weather is so abysmal and the visibility is virtually zilch, it does take away the enjoyment slightly!!! We therefore decided that we’d be cowards, sit it out and wait for a good, dry and clear day to attempt our walk. We continued to sit, waiting for the rain to stop! For just over 2 days we were still waiting! It ‘ain’t no fun’ in a tent when it constantly rains for that long. We honestly couldn’t believe that so much rain could fall – and continue to fall.
One the second day, we debated whether or not, we should just give up, go down to the pub and get totally wasted. We decided that if we did that, we could guarantee that the rain would cease, we’d end up with a hangover and wouldn’t be able to face that big beast Ben Nevis. So we agreed we’d stay one more night and if it was still raining the following morning, we’d throw the tent in the back of the car and come home. Failing in our attempt to walk Ben Nevis!
On Wednesday evening, we set off to Morrisons in Fort William, to buy our 3rd pack of ready made sandwiches, praying, this pack, we’d be able to eat whilst walking up Ben Nevis the following day. And not whilst driving home because it was still raining and we’d given up on our venture. We picked up other provisions, and as is usual practice, we ended up in the DVD aisle. We came across, at the bargain price of £3.99, the DVD of Grease. Great, we’d found tonight’s entertainment. The added bonus was that it came with a song book.
We spent the evening watching Grease on the laptop, singing along with the aid of the song book, listening to the rain bouncing off the tent! What more could you ask for on your holiday??
We went to bed – still raining.
We woke up in the morning – no rain!!!! Yes, Thursday was our day for tackling Big Ben!
Once in the Highlands, our plan was to walk Ben Nevis, we pitched our tent at the Glen Nevis campsite. If you ever plan to walk Ben Nevis and camp, stay here. The site was super, the staff are great and it sits more or less at the very foot of Ben Nevis in the most spectacular setting. We sat outside the tent, just looking up and around us at this most magnificent view – BBC Spring Watch eat your heart out. It was totally breathtaking.
The only downside was the midgies – millions of the pesky things. When we arrived, we saw loads of people wearing ‘things’ over their heads – it looked like there had been a nuclear or severe chemical accident on the campsite and a team of specialist chemical ‘cleaneruppers’ were there – this is what they were wearing. We chuckled! An hour later, we too were part of the clean up operation!
Fortunately, not long after we arrived the rain started and the number of midgies reduced considerably. Great. Or may be not – it just didn’t stop raining. Rain, rain, rain, rain and more rain fell. Even with all the proper walking gear, when the weather is so abysmal and the visibility is virtually zilch, it does take away the enjoyment slightly!!! We therefore decided that we’d be cowards, sit it out and wait for a good, dry and clear day to attempt our walk. We continued to sit, waiting for the rain to stop! For just over 2 days we were still waiting! It ‘ain’t no fun’ in a tent when it constantly rains for that long. We honestly couldn’t believe that so much rain could fall – and continue to fall.
One the second day, we debated whether or not, we should just give up, go down to the pub and get totally wasted. We decided that if we did that, we could guarantee that the rain would cease, we’d end up with a hangover and wouldn’t be able to face that big beast Ben Nevis. So we agreed we’d stay one more night and if it was still raining the following morning, we’d throw the tent in the back of the car and come home. Failing in our attempt to walk Ben Nevis!
On Wednesday evening, we set off to Morrisons in Fort William, to buy our 3rd pack of ready made sandwiches, praying, this pack, we’d be able to eat whilst walking up Ben Nevis the following day. And not whilst driving home because it was still raining and we’d given up on our venture. We picked up other provisions, and as is usual practice, we ended up in the DVD aisle. We came across, at the bargain price of £3.99, the DVD of Grease. Great, we’d found tonight’s entertainment. The added bonus was that it came with a song book.
We spent the evening watching Grease on the laptop, singing along with the aid of the song book, listening to the rain bouncing off the tent! What more could you ask for on your holiday??
We went to bed – still raining.
We woke up in the morning – no rain!!!! Yes, Thursday was our day for tackling Big Ben!
Saturday, 9 June 2007
Home alone for the first time
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Last week, Hubby and I went on holiday to Scotland. Daughter refused to come with us because part of the holiday included walking up Ben Nevis and a spot of camping in the Highlands. We therefore left 17 year old Daughter, home alone for the first time ever for a full week by herself. Scary, very scary. Our neighbour had a key and was under strict instruction to come in every day and check that both house and Daughter was ok.
The morning we set off, Daughter had gone into town on yet another marathon shopping expedition, so we left her the following note:-
“Dear Daughter
Hope you have a great week without us. We’re sure you’re going to miss up loads!
Remember the following:-
In an emergency………………………….. and so on”
We later received a text from her, saying ‘thanks for the note!’ I wasn’t sure whether this was the written form or the cash that we had left for her!
Whilst we were away we rang her every day and most days she rang us too. Another scary point, Daughter doesn’t ring us unless she’s looking for a lift, cash or some other favour. Each phone call went through this daily routine:-
Daughter: Hi Mom, how are you?
Me: Hi Babes, good thanks, you? How you getting on?
Daughter: Fine, when are you coming home?
I’ve still yet to work out why every day she asked when we were coming home. Was she missing us or was a party in the planning? Hmmm!
Anyway, we came home to a spotless house and found out that she’d only actually spent one night here as she’d stayed every night at her friend’s house. The night that she did sleep here, she slept downstairs in the lounge with the dog! Awww, bless.
I’m not convinced she enjoyed her ‘holiday’ as much as she thought she was going to!
Tuesday, 22 May 2007
Oooooooppppps
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Hubby took a shower tonight and came downstairs holding the clippers for a hair cut.
His hair was wet and it kept getting stuck in the blades. Every so often Hubby took the clippers from me, took the cover off which dictates the length of the cut and brushed off the excess hair from the blades. He’d then hand back the gizmo and I’d proceed with the shave.
Yes, you’ve guessed it. He forgot to put the cover on, I forgot to check and then ‘Oooooooops’ one pretty large bald patch on the back of his head!!!
This was followed by several frantic phone calls to Daughter, neighbours and friends to locate a local PROFESSIONAL mobile hair dresser.
Luckily, we found fabulous Mandy. Five minutes later she arrived and sorted out the mess I’d created. He’s now agreed to use Mandy for every cut from now on!
Hubby took a shower tonight and came downstairs holding the clippers for a hair cut.
His hair was wet and it kept getting stuck in the blades. Every so often Hubby took the clippers from me, took the cover off which dictates the length of the cut and brushed off the excess hair from the blades. He’d then hand back the gizmo and I’d proceed with the shave.
Yes, you’ve guessed it. He forgot to put the cover on, I forgot to check and then ‘Oooooooops’ one pretty large bald patch on the back of his head!!!
This was followed by several frantic phone calls to Daughter, neighbours and friends to locate a local PROFESSIONAL mobile hair dresser.
Luckily, we found fabulous Mandy. Five minutes later she arrived and sorted out the mess I’d created. He’s now agreed to use Mandy for every cut from now on!
Monday, 21 May 2007
Barking Mad
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Tonight, we took our Heinz 57 mutt for his annual check up. This usually means the following:
- the dog goes mental in the car whilst travelling to the vets
- the dog will pee in reception,
- we will all blush and offer to wipe up the accident,
- the dog will sit and howl until he gets to see the vet,
- the vet will give him his booster jab
- the vet will tell us the dog has a strong heart
- the vet will tell us he wouldn’t like to see anymore weight on said dog
- we leave and I tell daughter she needs to walk him more
I was also pretty sure the vet was going to tell us our dear Bailey is barking mad! He’s recently getting stranger and stranger with his behaviour.
He’s started sleeping in the spare room and he’s not even allowed upstairs. On Saturday morning, Hubby found him doing an SAS crawl across the landing to the stairs, he reckons he was also trying to be invisible dog and thought that Hubby wouldn’t notice him. He got a major telling off and hopefully he won’t be doing that again.
The following morning – very early - he was lying on the bench, underneath our bedroom window, crying. It was as if he was saying, ‘come on, get up, it’s the weekend, your supposed to be fussing me’
He’s also recently started to just sit very close to the lounge wall and just stare at it!
So we went along to see the vet and he was very good and didn’t pee in the waiting room. He did however sit and howl and continued to howl even when we were in with the vet.
I asked the vet if there was such a thing as canine dementia, he smiled and said that the Americans were doing some research into this and there are initial indications that there may be such thing. Great I thought, another nutter in the house!!
He then told me we should get at least another year out of our dear old Bailey – senile or not!
Moving up a Gear……. or maybe not
Daisy Turnip writes.....
We spent yesterday cleaning our bikes (ok, correction, Hubby spent yesterday cleaning our bikes) that we haven’t used for a long time and took them out for a quick ride out. It turned out to be quicker than we had planned due to my gears simply refusing to work. I was pedalling away, ten to the dozen, feeling like a complete moron, knowing that people were thinking, ‘silly thing, she’s in the wrong gear she is!’
Due to gear outage, we decided to take the quick route back, which ultimately meant we only really went round the block – yes, that’s right, not very far at all.
For such a short distance, my legs and cheeks (not on my face) are absolutely killing me today!!
Anyone know a good cycle repairer?
We spent yesterday cleaning our bikes (ok, correction, Hubby spent yesterday cleaning our bikes) that we haven’t used for a long time and took them out for a quick ride out. It turned out to be quicker than we had planned due to my gears simply refusing to work. I was pedalling away, ten to the dozen, feeling like a complete moron, knowing that people were thinking, ‘silly thing, she’s in the wrong gear she is!’
Due to gear outage, we decided to take the quick route back, which ultimately meant we only really went round the block – yes, that’s right, not very far at all.
For such a short distance, my legs and cheeks (not on my face) are absolutely killing me today!!
Anyone know a good cycle repairer?
For Just One Second
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Anything and everything I can do online, I do – shopping, paper less bills, lottery etc I do it. I’m not sure if I’m lazy, just love IT, or feel greener about running my life in this way, but I am very much an online person.
Yesterday I opened my email and saw a message from the nice people at the National Lottery – the email subject read, ‘News about your ticket!’ I knew this meant that I had a winning ticket from Saturday night. Hoorah.
For the 10 or 20 seconds it takes you to close down the email, open up a browser, type in the URL for the national lottery and log in with your account details, it really is quite funny. You are silently repeating to yourself, ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ but way back in the back of your mind you’re hoping, ‘let it be a million, please let it be the big M’ knowing full well ‘it’ll be a tenner’
And it was! A tenner!
One day………………….
Anything and everything I can do online, I do – shopping, paper less bills, lottery etc I do it. I’m not sure if I’m lazy, just love IT, or feel greener about running my life in this way, but I am very much an online person.
Yesterday I opened my email and saw a message from the nice people at the National Lottery – the email subject read, ‘News about your ticket!’ I knew this meant that I had a winning ticket from Saturday night. Hoorah.
For the 10 or 20 seconds it takes you to close down the email, open up a browser, type in the URL for the national lottery and log in with your account details, it really is quite funny. You are silently repeating to yourself, ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ ‘it’ll be a tenner’ but way back in the back of your mind you’re hoping, ‘let it be a million, please let it be the big M’ knowing full well ‘it’ll be a tenner’
And it was! A tenner!
One day………………….
What a Catch, What a Dish
Daisy Turnip writes.....
A friend of mine has just started ‘seeing’ someone.
What are a girl’s priorities when it comes to men these days? I think the following totally sums it up.
All I know about the new man is that he used to be a chef and he likes a clean kitchen!
This translated into female speak means ‘brilliant’ - she won’t be cooking each time they eat together, as he doesn’t have the excuse that he can’t cook! And even better, he’ll tidy up after himself. Fantastic!!
A friend of mine has just started ‘seeing’ someone.
What are a girl’s priorities when it comes to men these days? I think the following totally sums it up.
All I know about the new man is that he used to be a chef and he likes a clean kitchen!
This translated into female speak means ‘brilliant’ - she won’t be cooking each time they eat together, as he doesn’t have the excuse that he can’t cook! And even better, he’ll tidy up after himself. Fantastic!!
Saturday, 19 May 2007
'Jumper' on the Line
Daisy Turnip writes.....
On Wednesday, I had a meeting in London. It was a fairly early start and we finished about 4.30. The team went for a quick drink and then we all set off for our journeys home just before 5.30pm. I was dreading the journey back and just wished I could click my fingers and I’d be back home, sitting on the sofa, watching some rubbish on the TV. Instead, I set off in search of the train station, humping with me my 40ltr rucksack with 'comfort blanket' laptop etc etc.
I reached Victoria station to find it in total chaos, the queues and crowds of people were unbelievable. It turned out that someone had committed suicide by jumping in front of a tube on the Victoria line. I cannot imagine how this person must have felt or what they had experienced that day / week / year to result in the need to end it all in such a very sad and lonely way.
Me being a bit dense about the underground ie I know the route to the office in London and that’s about it., I’d absolutely no idea where to go when an entire section of a line is closed down.
I queued to speak to the underground official who told me the route I needed to take and handed me a map of the underground, ‘just in case’. I set off amongst the hordes to find my way to Marylebone.
Whilst waiting on a crammed platform and feeling pretty scared that if anymore people appeared on the platform, a few more of us will end up on the tracks, a woman to the side of me turned to someone and said, ‘what a miserable, selfish b*****d, fancy doing it in peak commuter time!’ How kind of you I thought. How totally totally selfish of you! I’m sure the family of the dead person would think likewise too.
I can’t help but keep thinking about who the person was and why did s/he end up choosing to end their life in such an awful way?
On Wednesday, I had a meeting in London. It was a fairly early start and we finished about 4.30. The team went for a quick drink and then we all set off for our journeys home just before 5.30pm. I was dreading the journey back and just wished I could click my fingers and I’d be back home, sitting on the sofa, watching some rubbish on the TV. Instead, I set off in search of the train station, humping with me my 40ltr rucksack with 'comfort blanket' laptop etc etc.
I reached Victoria station to find it in total chaos, the queues and crowds of people were unbelievable. It turned out that someone had committed suicide by jumping in front of a tube on the Victoria line. I cannot imagine how this person must have felt or what they had experienced that day / week / year to result in the need to end it all in such a very sad and lonely way.
Me being a bit dense about the underground ie I know the route to the office in London and that’s about it., I’d absolutely no idea where to go when an entire section of a line is closed down.
I queued to speak to the underground official who told me the route I needed to take and handed me a map of the underground, ‘just in case’. I set off amongst the hordes to find my way to Marylebone.
Whilst waiting on a crammed platform and feeling pretty scared that if anymore people appeared on the platform, a few more of us will end up on the tracks, a woman to the side of me turned to someone and said, ‘what a miserable, selfish b*****d, fancy doing it in peak commuter time!’ How kind of you I thought. How totally totally selfish of you! I’m sure the family of the dead person would think likewise too.
I can’t help but keep thinking about who the person was and why did s/he end up choosing to end their life in such an awful way?
Don’t You Just Love Weekend?
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Don’t we all just love our weekends? Two days off work, a time to chill out and relax?
The plan was to go camping in Derbyshire this weekend. However being the fair weather camper that I am, we stayed at home and chilled in the following way today:-
Did the garden
Stripped the beds
Did 6 Loads of washing and drying
Cleaned the car
Cleaned the fridge
Cleaned the kitchen cupboards
Ahhh, I now feel totally chilled and rested!
Don’t we all just love our weekends? Two days off work, a time to chill out and relax?
The plan was to go camping in Derbyshire this weekend. However being the fair weather camper that I am, we stayed at home and chilled in the following way today:-
Did the garden
Stripped the beds
Did 6 Loads of washing and drying
Cleaned the car
Cleaned the fridge
Cleaned the kitchen cupboards
Ahhh, I now feel totally chilled and rested!
Childhood Memories, Bag of Conkers and Blackpool Conference
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Yesterday evening, whilst Hubby and I were driving home, we spotted this amazing tree. ‘Wow’ I said, ‘look at that.’ ‘I know, fantastic isn’t it, it’s a horse chestnut tree’ said Hubby.
Immediately, I was transformed back to when I was approximately 8 years old. When I was 8 years old, my Dad went to a conference in Blackpool. He left us all alone for the week. I remember the day Dad was due home. I remember that day as clear as anything. School finished and we were unleashed back into the ‘outside world’. And I ran. I just couldn’t wait to get home to see my Dad. I ran so fast I must have broken some record – possibly, the record for the child running home to see her Dad whom she hadn’t seen for a week fastest runner record! I simply couldn’t wait to get home and see him.
As I came round the corner I could see his car so I knew he was home. I ran faster and as I ran up the path to our house, my Dad was hiding behind a tree and jumped out with a big ‘BOO!’ He had a big bag of conkers with him – he’d spent an hour or so, whilst on a jolly in Blackpool, collecting conkers for me and my big sis. I was seriously chuffed, my Dad was home and with him came a HUGE bag of conkers – what an absolute bonus.
Whenever I think of conkers, I always, without exception, remember breaking the record for running home the fastest on that afternoon when I was 8 years old!
Yesterday evening, whilst Hubby and I were driving home, we spotted this amazing tree. ‘Wow’ I said, ‘look at that.’ ‘I know, fantastic isn’t it, it’s a horse chestnut tree’ said Hubby.
Immediately, I was transformed back to when I was approximately 8 years old. When I was 8 years old, my Dad went to a conference in Blackpool. He left us all alone for the week. I remember the day Dad was due home. I remember that day as clear as anything. School finished and we were unleashed back into the ‘outside world’. And I ran. I just couldn’t wait to get home to see my Dad. I ran so fast I must have broken some record – possibly, the record for the child running home to see her Dad whom she hadn’t seen for a week fastest runner record! I simply couldn’t wait to get home and see him.
As I came round the corner I could see his car so I knew he was home. I ran faster and as I ran up the path to our house, my Dad was hiding behind a tree and jumped out with a big ‘BOO!’ He had a big bag of conkers with him – he’d spent an hour or so, whilst on a jolly in Blackpool, collecting conkers for me and my big sis. I was seriously chuffed, my Dad was home and with him came a HUGE bag of conkers – what an absolute bonus.
Whenever I think of conkers, I always, without exception, remember breaking the record for running home the fastest on that afternoon when I was 8 years old!
Monday, 14 May 2007
Tilley’s Travels
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Speaking to a good friend of mine makes me think she should change her name by deed poll to Judith Chalmers 2.
To blog readers, she is now permanently called Tilley.
At the beginning of April Tilley trouped off to the Galapagos Islands for an amazing 3 weeks holiday. And then, to assist a friend with a spare last minute place, last week she ended up at Lake Garda for another week’s holiday. She emailed me tonight and ‘just happened’ to remind me that she was off to Cape Verde at the beginning of next month! Oh, and then hinted about a weekend away, chez our house, for the annual village fete / carnival (the highlight of rural village living for me, Hubby, Daughter and now a list of friends wanting to attend – the entire village basically gets drunk while bands play from mid afternoon into the midnight hour, on the back of a 38 tonne open curtain sided lorry in the middle of the village – trust me, it’s fun!). I actually think Mr & Mrs Tilley are now officially homeless and just spend their time floating round the globe, taking on board all these amazing places to then return to the UK and stay in a B&B for the odd week here and there just to do some work earn some pin money to pay for even more globe trotting!
Said friend is called Tilley because when given the clothing list for the Galapagos Islands it said ‘hat’ – knowing we were big walkers she asked if she could borrow my hat – being fashion victim extraordinaire she said that my hat is the only one she can wear that doesn’t make her look like a moron. The hat is a delightful Tilley Hat which I bestowed to her, with the request to look after it and ‘don’t let the elephants eat it’ (if you’re a Tilley owner and have read the ‘manual’ you will understand)
Myself and Hubby have a week’s leave booked at the end of this month. We plan to go walk Ben Nevis and then do some sightseeing in the highlands – we’ve done Scafell Pike and Snowdon and being the trophy hunter that I am, I now need to include the final ‘biggie’ and do Ben Nevis. The Galapagos Islands or Lake Garda 5 star accommodation it is not.
Upon receipt of Tilley’s email re the next holiday, my response was as follows:-
‘Cape Verde – God, you got a hard life with all these holidays! : ) I’m just green, don’t you worry about me being stuck up Ben Nevis with my midget cream smothered all over me, looking like a moron with the Tilley on my head. And don’t forget camping at the foot of big Ben the night before the walk and again the night we get back down it!! I’ll be ok, honest we’ve now invested in an automatic blow up bed (singles) – which is a huge bleeding exaggeration by the way – it takes a slight gulp of air and thinks it has inflated into some great big 4 poster bed!! It’s about as thick as 20 sheets of Andrex and you only roll off the bloody thing during the night anyway!!! And then there’s the issue of putting up / and down the tent again, based on the fact you’ve had a crap night’s sleep due to the naff self inflating mattress. But, as I say, I ain’t bitter. You have a good time luvvie!! : ) xx’
Her response read, ‘hope you have a good time in insect infected Scotland. Tilley all freshly laundered and raring to go again. By the way, is the carnival the last week in June or the first weekend of July?’
I do hope I like Scotland and Big Ben as much as I think I should!
Speaking to a good friend of mine makes me think she should change her name by deed poll to Judith Chalmers 2.
To blog readers, she is now permanently called Tilley.
At the beginning of April Tilley trouped off to the Galapagos Islands for an amazing 3 weeks holiday. And then, to assist a friend with a spare last minute place, last week she ended up at Lake Garda for another week’s holiday. She emailed me tonight and ‘just happened’ to remind me that she was off to Cape Verde at the beginning of next month! Oh, and then hinted about a weekend away, chez our house, for the annual village fete / carnival (the highlight of rural village living for me, Hubby, Daughter and now a list of friends wanting to attend – the entire village basically gets drunk while bands play from mid afternoon into the midnight hour, on the back of a 38 tonne open curtain sided lorry in the middle of the village – trust me, it’s fun!). I actually think Mr & Mrs Tilley are now officially homeless and just spend their time floating round the globe, taking on board all these amazing places to then return to the UK and stay in a B&B for the odd week here and there just to do some work earn some pin money to pay for even more globe trotting!
Said friend is called Tilley because when given the clothing list for the Galapagos Islands it said ‘hat’ – knowing we were big walkers she asked if she could borrow my hat – being fashion victim extraordinaire she said that my hat is the only one she can wear that doesn’t make her look like a moron. The hat is a delightful Tilley Hat which I bestowed to her, with the request to look after it and ‘don’t let the elephants eat it’ (if you’re a Tilley owner and have read the ‘manual’ you will understand)
Myself and Hubby have a week’s leave booked at the end of this month. We plan to go walk Ben Nevis and then do some sightseeing in the highlands – we’ve done Scafell Pike and Snowdon and being the trophy hunter that I am, I now need to include the final ‘biggie’ and do Ben Nevis. The Galapagos Islands or Lake Garda 5 star accommodation it is not.
Upon receipt of Tilley’s email re the next holiday, my response was as follows:-
‘Cape Verde – God, you got a hard life with all these holidays! : ) I’m just green, don’t you worry about me being stuck up Ben Nevis with my midget cream smothered all over me, looking like a moron with the Tilley on my head. And don’t forget camping at the foot of big Ben the night before the walk and again the night we get back down it!! I’ll be ok, honest we’ve now invested in an automatic blow up bed (singles) – which is a huge bleeding exaggeration by the way – it takes a slight gulp of air and thinks it has inflated into some great big 4 poster bed!! It’s about as thick as 20 sheets of Andrex and you only roll off the bloody thing during the night anyway!!! And then there’s the issue of putting up / and down the tent again, based on the fact you’ve had a crap night’s sleep due to the naff self inflating mattress. But, as I say, I ain’t bitter. You have a good time luvvie!! : ) xx’
Her response read, ‘hope you have a good time in insect infected Scotland. Tilley all freshly laundered and raring to go again. By the way, is the carnival the last week in June or the first weekend of July?’
I do hope I like Scotland and Big Ben as much as I think I should!
Thursday, 10 May 2007
Abseiling Spiders
Daisy Turnip writes.....
A couple of months ago, I was sitting at the PC working away, when a spider abseiled from the ceiling, right in front on my face and landed on my lap! This prompted a rain dance type reaction from me as I screamed, jumped up and flicked it on the floor. The little tyke bounded along the floor and vanished under the skirting board somewhere. I sat and watched and just couldn’t concentrate on my work. As each hour went by, I relaxed a little and just kept having an occasional peek to ensure it hadn’t come out of its hiding place. By this point I’d brought a trainer into the computer room in order to defend myself if needs be – I’m sorry all you eight legged creature lovers, but I really don’t like spiders – I know it’s stupid, but I am.
After a couple of months I thought it was safe, so I took the trainer out of the computer room. Foolish move on my part!
Said spider has obviously been watching me and saw the removal of the trainer. He came back today and did exactly the same thing!!
A couple of months ago, I was sitting at the PC working away, when a spider abseiled from the ceiling, right in front on my face and landed on my lap! This prompted a rain dance type reaction from me as I screamed, jumped up and flicked it on the floor. The little tyke bounded along the floor and vanished under the skirting board somewhere. I sat and watched and just couldn’t concentrate on my work. As each hour went by, I relaxed a little and just kept having an occasional peek to ensure it hadn’t come out of its hiding place. By this point I’d brought a trainer into the computer room in order to defend myself if needs be – I’m sorry all you eight legged creature lovers, but I really don’t like spiders – I know it’s stupid, but I am.
After a couple of months I thought it was safe, so I took the trainer out of the computer room. Foolish move on my part!
Said spider has obviously been watching me and saw the removal of the trainer. He came back today and did exactly the same thing!!
Tuesday, 8 May 2007
Allergy Attack
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Daughter was sent home from work yesterday and we ended up having to see the emergency doctor – a nice 2 hour wait at the hospital emergency doctor clinic! We finally got home, Daughter took the prescribed medication and trotted off upstairs saying she wasn’t feeling too well.
Ten minutes later, she came running into the kitchen complaining that her tongue felt funny. No kidding!! Her neck and face were bright ready and hives suddenly started popping out all over her skin – stomach, face, arms, legs, you name it, and there were hives there. She was having a severe reaction to the anti-biotics she’d just taken! Something I recognise as it happens to me when I take a certain drug. Your body basically swells up until you look like a bright, pinky red Michelin Man, along with HUGE hives – not a pretty looking sight and extremely scary. As we stood there we watched her beautiful angelic face (ok, I’m just being gushy now because she was poorly and it was scaring the hell out of me too!) get both pinker and pinker and rounder and rounder.
‘Get your shoes on, we going back to the hospital – NOW!’
As we left, Hubby whispered in my ear, ‘Put your foot down!’
Driving up the motorway was horrendous. Twelve miles to drive with your one and only child, scratching incessantly and crying, saying she can’t breath properly and then in the next breath saying, ‘how embarrassing, what if someone sees me like this, am I going to die?’ Hmmm!!
And then, the mobile phone came from out of her bag? ‘What are you doing?’ I asked, thinking she might be calling someone. ‘Taking a photo to show my boss what’s happened to me!’ God, it would have been brilliant if they’d have sacked her for leaving work because she had taken ill. She’d have got herself some hot shot employment lawyer to slap an ET1 on the HR Manager’s desk, including photographic evidence of her condition! She will go far will daughter!!
By this point, I was seriously praying that I’d get pulled over by the police, so they could have taken her on a ‘blue lighter’ to the hospital – she would have probably taken a photograph of them too! But, typically, where are our boys in blue, when you really want them and you’re so seriously breaking the speed limit up the M40 – nowhere! But hey, she’s fine now and I do use that motorway a lot, so it’s not so bad!
We arrived at the hospital and calmly threw ourselves, screaming at the A&E reception desk (ok, a slight exaggeration, and I did not vault over the desk), with me kind of barking out to the receptionist that my daughter needed adrenalin and steroids. Coupled with our panic and my dodgy black country accent (which no one seems to be able to interpret in Warwickshire) he obviously couldn’t understand a word I said and simply walked off looking confused!! I have no idea where he went but then Ms Nightingale appeared and asked if someone was seeing to us? She then looked at Ms Michelin Junior and said, ‘Oh dear, you’d better come with me.’ Hooorray!! I turned round to properly look at Daughter for the first time since we’d left the house. She looked as if she’d done 50 rounds with Frank Bruno – without the bruises of course, but her face had completely lost all features and had completely swollen to one big mass of pink with 2 tiny slits where her beautiful eyes could be seen only twenty minutes before.
Five minutes later they were pumping adrenalin round her body! The itching, hives, redness and panic soon started to fade and the breathing began to ease.
Once she’d received numerous jabs and drugs she then lay with an oxygen mask on her face for an hour and a half, which was then followed by a fifteen minute session with the nebulizer – it was amazing, she still tried to talk with the mask on!! It was at this point, I realised she was on the mend and whilst she was doing her Darth Vader impression she started laughing and said, ‘This is going to end up on your blog isn’t it!?’ I just laughed and nodded. She then started to recite bits of my blog, using the exact phrases I use. Very funny!
Doctor then came in to assess Daughter who at this point was either seriously high, or just seriously happy! She asked if she could have some replacement tablets for the ones that she’d initially reacted to and made some quip that she’d like the same ones again and then started laughing. I’m sorry, but it was funny and I laughed too. He was obviously at the end of a double, triple shift and he said, ‘No, you can’t have the same ones, you can never have that drug again, do you understand me?’ We nodded and hung our heads in shame! He left, never to be seen again.
The mask finally came off and I asked how she was feeling? ‘I’m starving! I’ve had nothing to eat all day apart from a piece of toast this morning. Can we go now and fetch a curry on the way home?’ Near death experience over! Nurse smiled and nodded. I think she was grateful that peace would soon return to the A&E unit!
The only thing to do now is to get her to continually recite and remember that bugger of a name of the drug she’s allergic to!
Daughter was sent home from work yesterday and we ended up having to see the emergency doctor – a nice 2 hour wait at the hospital emergency doctor clinic! We finally got home, Daughter took the prescribed medication and trotted off upstairs saying she wasn’t feeling too well.
Ten minutes later, she came running into the kitchen complaining that her tongue felt funny. No kidding!! Her neck and face were bright ready and hives suddenly started popping out all over her skin – stomach, face, arms, legs, you name it, and there were hives there. She was having a severe reaction to the anti-biotics she’d just taken! Something I recognise as it happens to me when I take a certain drug. Your body basically swells up until you look like a bright, pinky red Michelin Man, along with HUGE hives – not a pretty looking sight and extremely scary. As we stood there we watched her beautiful angelic face (ok, I’m just being gushy now because she was poorly and it was scaring the hell out of me too!) get both pinker and pinker and rounder and rounder.
‘Get your shoes on, we going back to the hospital – NOW!’
As we left, Hubby whispered in my ear, ‘Put your foot down!’
Driving up the motorway was horrendous. Twelve miles to drive with your one and only child, scratching incessantly and crying, saying she can’t breath properly and then in the next breath saying, ‘how embarrassing, what if someone sees me like this, am I going to die?’ Hmmm!!
And then, the mobile phone came from out of her bag? ‘What are you doing?’ I asked, thinking she might be calling someone. ‘Taking a photo to show my boss what’s happened to me!’ God, it would have been brilliant if they’d have sacked her for leaving work because she had taken ill. She’d have got herself some hot shot employment lawyer to slap an ET1 on the HR Manager’s desk, including photographic evidence of her condition! She will go far will daughter!!
By this point, I was seriously praying that I’d get pulled over by the police, so they could have taken her on a ‘blue lighter’ to the hospital – she would have probably taken a photograph of them too! But, typically, where are our boys in blue, when you really want them and you’re so seriously breaking the speed limit up the M40 – nowhere! But hey, she’s fine now and I do use that motorway a lot, so it’s not so bad!
We arrived at the hospital and calmly threw ourselves, screaming at the A&E reception desk (ok, a slight exaggeration, and I did not vault over the desk), with me kind of barking out to the receptionist that my daughter needed adrenalin and steroids. Coupled with our panic and my dodgy black country accent (which no one seems to be able to interpret in Warwickshire) he obviously couldn’t understand a word I said and simply walked off looking confused!! I have no idea where he went but then Ms Nightingale appeared and asked if someone was seeing to us? She then looked at Ms Michelin Junior and said, ‘Oh dear, you’d better come with me.’ Hooorray!! I turned round to properly look at Daughter for the first time since we’d left the house. She looked as if she’d done 50 rounds with Frank Bruno – without the bruises of course, but her face had completely lost all features and had completely swollen to one big mass of pink with 2 tiny slits where her beautiful eyes could be seen only twenty minutes before.
Five minutes later they were pumping adrenalin round her body! The itching, hives, redness and panic soon started to fade and the breathing began to ease.
Once she’d received numerous jabs and drugs she then lay with an oxygen mask on her face for an hour and a half, which was then followed by a fifteen minute session with the nebulizer – it was amazing, she still tried to talk with the mask on!! It was at this point, I realised she was on the mend and whilst she was doing her Darth Vader impression she started laughing and said, ‘This is going to end up on your blog isn’t it!?’ I just laughed and nodded. She then started to recite bits of my blog, using the exact phrases I use. Very funny!
Doctor then came in to assess Daughter who at this point was either seriously high, or just seriously happy! She asked if she could have some replacement tablets for the ones that she’d initially reacted to and made some quip that she’d like the same ones again and then started laughing. I’m sorry, but it was funny and I laughed too. He was obviously at the end of a double, triple shift and he said, ‘No, you can’t have the same ones, you can never have that drug again, do you understand me?’ We nodded and hung our heads in shame! He left, never to be seen again.
The mask finally came off and I asked how she was feeling? ‘I’m starving! I’ve had nothing to eat all day apart from a piece of toast this morning. Can we go now and fetch a curry on the way home?’ Near death experience over! Nurse smiled and nodded. I think she was grateful that peace would soon return to the A&E unit!
The only thing to do now is to get her to continually recite and remember that bugger of a name of the drug she’s allergic to!
Life of Pictures
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Every now and then I get out my box of old photos, photo albums or sit for a couple of hours going through the thousands of digital images we now stored on pc (also copied onto the external hard drive plus numerous back ups on CD – just to be safe!!). Looking through photos most definitely comes with chuckles and a range of ‘oooh’s’ and ‘aaahhh’s’ and ‘oh, remember that?’ It gives me that warm glow inside regenerating the thoughts, feelings and memories of years gone by, triggered by just one single image. I love and cherish these photos.
For the last few years Hubby and I have asked Daughter if she’d like a camera, but she preferred to have an i-pod, driving lessons, a million pairs of jeans etc! She’s forever out with friends and apart from the ok’ish images she can take with her mobile phone (which then get deleted as her memory card fills up) she has no photos. She doesn’t ‘get’ that in years to come she’ll take great pleasure in looking back at photos of her and friends making ‘floor angels’ in the snow, sunbathing and chilling at the village lake, having a BBQ down the park, cycling down the back lanes and just generally being ‘out’ having fun.
I have a lifetime of photos – taken with a range of cheap disposables, Boots home brand, a Jessops special through to our now quite old, but still pretty impressive Canon PowerShot. I’m no brilliant photographer, but I’m keen to picture and capture the moments of my life and I’m concerned Daughter will not be able to later enjoy such treasures.
At the weekend, Hubby and I were in Sainburys and we both got magnetically dragged to a display counter, on which stood a PINK digital camera that was on special offer. We looked and laughed and Hubby said, ‘Oh, go on then’. We picked up the box and took it to the counter to pay, the shop assistant said, ‘Are you ok with a silver one?’ ‘No’ we both replied in unison! She went off into the ‘back’ to find a pink one and came back with a smile on her face. The other shop assistant, who was about the same age as daughter, was by now dribbling over the box and said, ‘I love this camera’. That made our day as we knew we’d made the right choice.
Daughter came back from work later on that day to find the camera on her bed, she came out of the bedroom with a big cheesey grin on her face and said, ‘oh great, thanks Mom, I can now get some pics onto myspace’
Every now and then I get out my box of old photos, photo albums or sit for a couple of hours going through the thousands of digital images we now stored on pc (also copied onto the external hard drive plus numerous back ups on CD – just to be safe!!). Looking through photos most definitely comes with chuckles and a range of ‘oooh’s’ and ‘aaahhh’s’ and ‘oh, remember that?’ It gives me that warm glow inside regenerating the thoughts, feelings and memories of years gone by, triggered by just one single image. I love and cherish these photos.
For the last few years Hubby and I have asked Daughter if she’d like a camera, but she preferred to have an i-pod, driving lessons, a million pairs of jeans etc! She’s forever out with friends and apart from the ok’ish images she can take with her mobile phone (which then get deleted as her memory card fills up) she has no photos. She doesn’t ‘get’ that in years to come she’ll take great pleasure in looking back at photos of her and friends making ‘floor angels’ in the snow, sunbathing and chilling at the village lake, having a BBQ down the park, cycling down the back lanes and just generally being ‘out’ having fun.
I have a lifetime of photos – taken with a range of cheap disposables, Boots home brand, a Jessops special through to our now quite old, but still pretty impressive Canon PowerShot. I’m no brilliant photographer, but I’m keen to picture and capture the moments of my life and I’m concerned Daughter will not be able to later enjoy such treasures.
At the weekend, Hubby and I were in Sainburys and we both got magnetically dragged to a display counter, on which stood a PINK digital camera that was on special offer. We looked and laughed and Hubby said, ‘Oh, go on then’. We picked up the box and took it to the counter to pay, the shop assistant said, ‘Are you ok with a silver one?’ ‘No’ we both replied in unison! She went off into the ‘back’ to find a pink one and came back with a smile on her face. The other shop assistant, who was about the same age as daughter, was by now dribbling over the box and said, ‘I love this camera’. That made our day as we knew we’d made the right choice.
Daughter came back from work later on that day to find the camera on her bed, she came out of the bedroom with a big cheesey grin on her face and said, ‘oh great, thanks Mom, I can now get some pics onto myspace’
Train Trauma
Daisy Turnip writes.....
All us home based workers meet up in London for a team meeting once a fortnight. To get to London from where I live isn’t too bad and to be honest, I have very few problems with the train. My colleague lives in the north and doesn’t seem to share my easy experience of travelling down to the ‘big smoke’. His day usually starts with a 4.30am alarm call, he catches the Pendolino which sends him a little queasy as it goes round bends pretty quickly and this also sometimes results in coffee spillage. In addition to this misery, his train frequently gets delayed somewhere on route!
Clearing out some text messages this weekend I found the following, genuine text messages from colleague
Message 1 – Hi I am delayed half hour cos of stupid taxi getting a puncture. See you later.
Message 2 – Only just getting 2 Rugby. It’s a nightmare. I will be at least another hour. Deep joy!
Message 3 – Hi. Delayed at Crew, which was odd cos we were not due to stop there. Now delay at Stafford cos a lorry has hit a railway bridge.
Message 4 – On train. Just spilt a lovely hot latte all over me, so not only have I scoldered my privates I have an unpleasant stain in my crotch. The day does not bode well……
Message 5 – Hiya. Still on train!
I’m just glad I don’t live on my colleague’s route!
All us home based workers meet up in London for a team meeting once a fortnight. To get to London from where I live isn’t too bad and to be honest, I have very few problems with the train. My colleague lives in the north and doesn’t seem to share my easy experience of travelling down to the ‘big smoke’. His day usually starts with a 4.30am alarm call, he catches the Pendolino which sends him a little queasy as it goes round bends pretty quickly and this also sometimes results in coffee spillage. In addition to this misery, his train frequently gets delayed somewhere on route!
Clearing out some text messages this weekend I found the following, genuine text messages from colleague
Message 1 – Hi I am delayed half hour cos of stupid taxi getting a puncture. See you later.
Message 2 – Only just getting 2 Rugby. It’s a nightmare. I will be at least another hour. Deep joy!
Message 3 – Hi. Delayed at Crew, which was odd cos we were not due to stop there. Now delay at Stafford cos a lorry has hit a railway bridge.
Message 4 – On train. Just spilt a lovely hot latte all over me, so not only have I scoldered my privates I have an unpleasant stain in my crotch. The day does not bode well……
Message 5 – Hiya. Still on train!
I’m just glad I don’t live on my colleague’s route!
Evicting the ‘Spadgers’
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Yesterday, Hubby was chopping back the ivy as it’s usual spring burst of growth had taken it onto the roof – this always causes a little panic in our house, as ivy is a pesky nuisance and can push the tiles off your roof and cause no end of damage to your house.
Hubby got very enthusiastic in hacking back the ivy, so much so that he exposed a bird’s nest - 2 baby ‘spadgers’ tumbled down the ivy onto the drive! I only joined the RSPB a couple of months ago and this certainly wasn’t detailed in our membership information!
Hubby then spent ages chasing the babies and once caught, he put them in a washing bowl and covered it with a rubber car mat and waited for me to come home. He then climbed back up the ladder and put the chicks back in the nest! In the mean time, parent spadgers were going crazy, hoping from the phone line, to the roof, back to the phone line cheaping away at us like crazy.
Latest news, is that they are still all in the nest and didn’t get too wet with the showers we had last night!
Yesterday, Hubby was chopping back the ivy as it’s usual spring burst of growth had taken it onto the roof – this always causes a little panic in our house, as ivy is a pesky nuisance and can push the tiles off your roof and cause no end of damage to your house.
Hubby got very enthusiastic in hacking back the ivy, so much so that he exposed a bird’s nest - 2 baby ‘spadgers’ tumbled down the ivy onto the drive! I only joined the RSPB a couple of months ago and this certainly wasn’t detailed in our membership information!
Hubby then spent ages chasing the babies and once caught, he put them in a washing bowl and covered it with a rubber car mat and waited for me to come home. He then climbed back up the ladder and put the chicks back in the nest! In the mean time, parent spadgers were going crazy, hoping from the phone line, to the roof, back to the phone line cheaping away at us like crazy.
Latest news, is that they are still all in the nest and didn’t get too wet with the showers we had last night!
Wednesday, 2 May 2007
Data Cleansing with Fairy Non-bio
Daisy Turnip writes.....
A couple of weeks ago my fabulous Hubby bought us both a 2GB memory stick. Being a pair of anoraks, we were both thoroughly chuffed with them.
This morning I took a load of washing out of the machine only to find his sat at the bottom of the drum!
There must be easier ways to cleanse your data dear! x
A couple of weeks ago my fabulous Hubby bought us both a 2GB memory stick. Being a pair of anoraks, we were both thoroughly chuffed with them.
This morning I took a load of washing out of the machine only to find his sat at the bottom of the drum!
There must be easier ways to cleanse your data dear! x
Monday, 30 April 2007
Virgin Twitcher
Daisy Turnip writes.....
And so the day arrived when we were to go twitching. I walked into the kitchen and heard Hubby say, ‘She’s up early because we are going bird watching today’. Yes, I saw his raised eyebrow and the smirk on Daughter’s face!!
We sorted out the day’s provisions, put on our fleeces, walking boots, grabbed a couple of pairs of binoculars and put our raincoats in the boot and set off down the M40 for our first virgin twitching trip to Otmoor Nature Reserve .
On our way there I asked Hubby if he thought there was a twitcher etiquette we should know about. We assumed it would be a common sense approach of no mobiles and to be quiet at all times. Simple?
We arrived in the village of Otmoor and found the car park at the end of a single track road. As soon as we got out of the car all you could hear was peace perfect peace and the sound of singing birds – an entire orchestra of them by the sound of it, it was amazing just how many birds we could hear. It was a bit ‘nippy’ and it looked a little grey overhead so we also put on our waterproofs. Etiquette rule number one broken!! Bright red Berghaus coats are obviously not the thing to wear when you are twitching! Well, yes, of course, it does seem obvious now, but first thing this morning, I really didn’t think about it. Everyone we saw at the reserve wore muted greens and browns! Throughout the entire day, we were the only people I saw wearing BRIGHT RED! And although everyone responded to our, ‘good morning’ and ‘afternoon’ greetings, they all seemed to be telepathically screaming, ‘WHAT’S WITH THE RED?’ It could have been our paranoia, but we sensed the feeling that the professional twitchers didn’t approve. (Mental note, wear camouflage paintball gear next time)
As we left the car part, for a split second I thought the BBC was filming for Nature Watch. People – and there were quite a few – were carrying around these huge tripods with ‘things’ on top of them. Hubby, AKA Encyclopaedia Britannica, informed me the kit is called a spotter scope – click here if you want to see what they are. You have to admit, it does look a little like a microphone that they use when filming?!?! When we go walking, our rucksacks are a little cumbersome, but these tripods were HUGE and people were carrying them round the entire nature reserve! I felt a little pathetic when I compared them to our little hand sized binoculars.
Hubby has only very very mildly ridiculed me about wanting to go bird watching. I did wonder why he hadn’t issued full scale ‘p’ take on me. However, as we made our way round the reserve he pointed out the following - swan, tern, lapwing, mallard, teal, coot, moorhen, buzzard, kestrel, pheasant, mute swan, heron and grasshopper warbler. Do you think he’s possibly a closet twitcher, now finally unleashed because his wife wants to go watch birds? He informed me ‘NOT!’
The highlight of my day was the ‘battle of the buzzard’. The buzzard was looking for food and kept swooping down to the ground searching for nests and chicks. Then, out of nowhere several lapwings appeared and started to attack the buzzard – they looked like WW2 fighter planes battling in the sky. It was really amazing. I never thought another bird would try and attack a buzzard, even if it was to protect their chicks. On this occasion the lapwings won, the buzzard left without a catch.
The weird point of the day was being laughed at by teenagers!!! I guess they’d been dragged out for the day by their Mother and they didn’t look particularly keen on being there, but I was seriously impressed that a mother could get 3 teenagers out into a nature reserve!! We were walking up as they were walking back and knowing teenage daughters, I immediately spotted THAT look on each face as they glanced us up and down and checked out the binoculars we were both carrying. The hand went over each mouth as they started to talk about us. I see THAT look and FEEL that teenage aura every day! As we were passing each other, I saw their lips go taut and their eyes begin to bulge as they desperately tried not to laugh. As we passed, we then heard the tittering!
It did make us laugh, but I wasn’t quite sure what to think. Being laughed at when we go mountain walking - for having a plastic map cover ‘thingy’ hanging from my neck, rucksack and gaiters etc - I can happily deal with that and frequently think, ‘you have absolutely NO idea what you are missing’. But, on the twitching score, we hadn’t seen the buzzard yet so I had no ‘wow factor’ in order for me to make a mental retort to them. To be honest, I was still trying to work out for myself why were we there!
The most comical part of the day’s adventure was when we sat behind a viewing screen which was located at the head of a pond. It wasn’t majorly busy on the pond front, however there were quite a few birds having a swim around. And right in front of the screen was a swan, and for the next 20 minutes we sat and watched as it dived for food on the bottom of the pond. Etiquette rule number two – don’t laugh at the birds, especially if you’re wearing a bright red coat. Luckily, there were no other twitchers around, but it was very comical – 20 minutes of bottom watching, with the odd flip of his feet!
And so, the virgin twitching experience was over. We got back in the car, ready to drive home. As we pulled off, Hubby said, ‘You just made me walk 2.8 miles to look, in detail, at a swan’s backside!’
And so the day arrived when we were to go twitching. I walked into the kitchen and heard Hubby say, ‘She’s up early because we are going bird watching today’. Yes, I saw his raised eyebrow and the smirk on Daughter’s face!!
We sorted out the day’s provisions, put on our fleeces, walking boots, grabbed a couple of pairs of binoculars and put our raincoats in the boot and set off down the M40 for our first virgin twitching trip to Otmoor Nature Reserve .
On our way there I asked Hubby if he thought there was a twitcher etiquette we should know about. We assumed it would be a common sense approach of no mobiles and to be quiet at all times. Simple?
We arrived in the village of Otmoor and found the car park at the end of a single track road. As soon as we got out of the car all you could hear was peace perfect peace and the sound of singing birds – an entire orchestra of them by the sound of it, it was amazing just how many birds we could hear. It was a bit ‘nippy’ and it looked a little grey overhead so we also put on our waterproofs. Etiquette rule number one broken!! Bright red Berghaus coats are obviously not the thing to wear when you are twitching! Well, yes, of course, it does seem obvious now, but first thing this morning, I really didn’t think about it. Everyone we saw at the reserve wore muted greens and browns! Throughout the entire day, we were the only people I saw wearing BRIGHT RED! And although everyone responded to our, ‘good morning’ and ‘afternoon’ greetings, they all seemed to be telepathically screaming, ‘WHAT’S WITH THE RED?’ It could have been our paranoia, but we sensed the feeling that the professional twitchers didn’t approve. (Mental note, wear camouflage paintball gear next time)
As we left the car part, for a split second I thought the BBC was filming for Nature Watch. People – and there were quite a few – were carrying around these huge tripods with ‘things’ on top of them. Hubby, AKA Encyclopaedia Britannica, informed me the kit is called a spotter scope – click here if you want to see what they are. You have to admit, it does look a little like a microphone that they use when filming?!?! When we go walking, our rucksacks are a little cumbersome, but these tripods were HUGE and people were carrying them round the entire nature reserve! I felt a little pathetic when I compared them to our little hand sized binoculars.
Hubby has only very very mildly ridiculed me about wanting to go bird watching. I did wonder why he hadn’t issued full scale ‘p’ take on me. However, as we made our way round the reserve he pointed out the following - swan, tern, lapwing, mallard, teal, coot, moorhen, buzzard, kestrel, pheasant, mute swan, heron and grasshopper warbler. Do you think he’s possibly a closet twitcher, now finally unleashed because his wife wants to go watch birds? He informed me ‘NOT!’
The highlight of my day was the ‘battle of the buzzard’. The buzzard was looking for food and kept swooping down to the ground searching for nests and chicks. Then, out of nowhere several lapwings appeared and started to attack the buzzard – they looked like WW2 fighter planes battling in the sky. It was really amazing. I never thought another bird would try and attack a buzzard, even if it was to protect their chicks. On this occasion the lapwings won, the buzzard left without a catch.
The weird point of the day was being laughed at by teenagers!!! I guess they’d been dragged out for the day by their Mother and they didn’t look particularly keen on being there, but I was seriously impressed that a mother could get 3 teenagers out into a nature reserve!! We were walking up as they were walking back and knowing teenage daughters, I immediately spotted THAT look on each face as they glanced us up and down and checked out the binoculars we were both carrying. The hand went over each mouth as they started to talk about us. I see THAT look and FEEL that teenage aura every day! As we were passing each other, I saw their lips go taut and their eyes begin to bulge as they desperately tried not to laugh. As we passed, we then heard the tittering!
It did make us laugh, but I wasn’t quite sure what to think. Being laughed at when we go mountain walking - for having a plastic map cover ‘thingy’ hanging from my neck, rucksack and gaiters etc - I can happily deal with that and frequently think, ‘you have absolutely NO idea what you are missing’. But, on the twitching score, we hadn’t seen the buzzard yet so I had no ‘wow factor’ in order for me to make a mental retort to them. To be honest, I was still trying to work out for myself why were we there!
The most comical part of the day’s adventure was when we sat behind a viewing screen which was located at the head of a pond. It wasn’t majorly busy on the pond front, however there were quite a few birds having a swim around. And right in front of the screen was a swan, and for the next 20 minutes we sat and watched as it dived for food on the bottom of the pond. Etiquette rule number two – don’t laugh at the birds, especially if you’re wearing a bright red coat. Luckily, there were no other twitchers around, but it was very comical – 20 minutes of bottom watching, with the odd flip of his feet!
And so, the virgin twitching experience was over. We got back in the car, ready to drive home. As we pulled off, Hubby said, ‘You just made me walk 2.8 miles to look, in detail, at a swan’s backside!’
Wednesday, 25 April 2007
What happened to the party girl?
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Tonight I sent an email to my dear old friend Tilley - not old as in she’s old – well not THAT old, but a friend who I’ve known for a very long time. In fact, she was a good friend of mine who I used to regularly go clubbing with on a Friday night – in fact, any night of the week, when we had nothing to do, had both the cash and the energy to show Wolverhampton night life what top and enthusiastic party goers we both were. Deary me, I could seriously party!
At the end of the email I wrote the following:-
“btw, we're off to the Oxford bird sanctuary at the weekend (although I've yet to tell David) as I’ve received 2 free tickets from my RSPB membership - f'ing hell (excuse my French), I sound like such an oldie!! Am going to go slap myself now coz I know I need to get a life ) what happened to Friday nights, the dance floor calling, head down and a bottle of bud in each hand?? :-)”
I need to share with you the fact that I have many photos of me with a bottle of bud in EACH hand, dancing away in oblivion of the outside world. I liked my little dance ‘bubble’ world that I used to frequent on a regular basis!!
I sent the email smirking to myself, thinking about our clubbing days (or nights as the case may be), and all the fun we had and then I suddenly thought OH MY GOD, what happened to party girl – she’s now a bird twitcher!!
Should I be worried?
Tonight I sent an email to my dear old friend Tilley - not old as in she’s old – well not THAT old, but a friend who I’ve known for a very long time. In fact, she was a good friend of mine who I used to regularly go clubbing with on a Friday night – in fact, any night of the week, when we had nothing to do, had both the cash and the energy to show Wolverhampton night life what top and enthusiastic party goers we both were. Deary me, I could seriously party!
At the end of the email I wrote the following:-
“btw, we're off to the Oxford bird sanctuary at the weekend (although I've yet to tell David) as I’ve received 2 free tickets from my RSPB membership - f'ing hell (excuse my French), I sound like such an oldie!! Am going to go slap myself now coz I know I need to get a life ) what happened to Friday nights, the dance floor calling, head down and a bottle of bud in each hand?? :-)”
I need to share with you the fact that I have many photos of me with a bottle of bud in EACH hand, dancing away in oblivion of the outside world. I liked my little dance ‘bubble’ world that I used to frequent on a regular basis!!
I sent the email smirking to myself, thinking about our clubbing days (or nights as the case may be), and all the fun we had and then I suddenly thought OH MY GOD, what happened to party girl – she’s now a bird twitcher!!
Should I be worried?
Monday, 23 April 2007
Never ask a man for directions
Daisy Turnip writes.....
The man at the BBC sent me this
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on "maps"
3. click on "get directions"
4. type "New York" in the first box (the "from" box)
5. type "London" in the second box (the "to" box)
6. click on "get directions"
7. scroll down to step #23
The man at the BBC sent me this
1. go to www.google.com
2. click on "maps"
3. click on "get directions"
4. type "New York" in the first box (the "from" box)
5. type "London" in the second box (the "to" box)
6. click on "get directions"
7. scroll down to step #23
I'd love to be eight again
Daisy Turnip writes.....
A man asked his wife what she'd like for her birthday. I'd love to be eight again" she replied. On the morning of her birthday he arose early, made her a nice big Bowl of Coco-Pops and then took her off to the local theme park. What a Day!
He put her on every ride in the park:
* The Death Slide
* The Wall of Fear
* The Screaming Monster Roller Coaster
Five hours later she staggered out of the theme park. Her head was reeling and her stomach felt upside down.
Right away they journeyed to a McDonalds where her loving husband ordered her a Happy Meal with extra fries and a refreshing chocolate milk-shake.
Then it was off to the movies: the latest Star Wars epic, a hot dog, pop-corn, all the coke she could drink, her favourite lolly and M&Ms. What a fabulous adventure!
Finally she wobbled home with her husband and collapsed onto the bed exhausted. He leaned over his precious wife with a big smile and lovingly asked "Well dear, what was it like being eight again?"
Her eyes slowly opened and her expression suddenly changed..."I meant my dress size, you idiot” The moral of this story: -
Even when a man IS listening, he's still gonna get it wrong.
A man asked his wife what she'd like for her birthday. I'd love to be eight again" she replied. On the morning of her birthday he arose early, made her a nice big Bowl of Coco-Pops and then took her off to the local theme park. What a Day!
He put her on every ride in the park:
* The Death Slide
* The Wall of Fear
* The Screaming Monster Roller Coaster
Five hours later she staggered out of the theme park. Her head was reeling and her stomach felt upside down.
Right away they journeyed to a McDonalds where her loving husband ordered her a Happy Meal with extra fries and a refreshing chocolate milk-shake.
Then it was off to the movies: the latest Star Wars epic, a hot dog, pop-corn, all the coke she could drink, her favourite lolly and M&Ms. What a fabulous adventure!
Finally she wobbled home with her husband and collapsed onto the bed exhausted. He leaned over his precious wife with a big smile and lovingly asked "Well dear, what was it like being eight again?"
Her eyes slowly opened and her expression suddenly changed..."I meant my dress size, you idiot” The moral of this story: -
Even when a man IS listening, he's still gonna get it wrong.
Wednesday, 18 April 2007
Pardon?
Daisy Turnip writes.....
On Monday morning Hubby woke up and was completely deaf in one ear. This obviously scared him a lot as he went to work and rang for an appointment once he got there! Yes, if it was me, I’d have been sitting on the doctor’s door step, waiting for them to open up for the day..
He got an appointment for later that day and went along to see the doctor. By this point, a little of his hearing had returned. He told the doctor what was wrong and gave him some terminology regarding the frequency and decibel range he was hearing. The terminology was very impressive but confused the hell out of me. The doctor must have been impressed too as he asked Hubby, “Oh, are you in medicine too?” “No” came Hubby’s reply, “engineering!”
The following day Hubby went back to work and as he walked into the office, one of his colleagues asked if he could hear today? Hubby’s reply was “Yes, I’m in the office most days this week!” Hmm, I think perhaps he should take the prescription given to him by the doc!
On Monday morning Hubby woke up and was completely deaf in one ear. This obviously scared him a lot as he went to work and rang for an appointment once he got there! Yes, if it was me, I’d have been sitting on the doctor’s door step, waiting for them to open up for the day..
He got an appointment for later that day and went along to see the doctor. By this point, a little of his hearing had returned. He told the doctor what was wrong and gave him some terminology regarding the frequency and decibel range he was hearing. The terminology was very impressive but confused the hell out of me. The doctor must have been impressed too as he asked Hubby, “Oh, are you in medicine too?” “No” came Hubby’s reply, “engineering!”
The following day Hubby went back to work and as he walked into the office, one of his colleagues asked if he could hear today? Hubby’s reply was “Yes, I’m in the office most days this week!” Hmm, I think perhaps he should take the prescription given to him by the doc!
Monday, 16 April 2007
Ting Tong Miracle
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Yay, miracles do happen. The suit has just arrived! I’m very impressed with it too, although I’ve yet to see it on Hubby. Let’s just hope it fits!
I take it all back - he wasn't mad at all!
Yay, miracles do happen. The suit has just arrived! I’m very impressed with it too, although I’ve yet to see it on Hubby. Let’s just hope it fits!
I take it all back - he wasn't mad at all!
Sunday, 15 April 2007
KFC’s a Killer!!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
At the weekend my daughter works at KFC. To be fair the money is not too bad for a 17 year old, especially as it tops up the allowance we give her on a monthly basis while she is studying at college.
Her hourly rate is higher than a good friend of mine earns, working in a very well known fashion high street chain shop – this fact delights my daughter, yet mortifies my friend who is 38 years old and has 3 kids!! But at least when she comes home at the end of the day, she doesn’t smell of chicken and fat!!
So the pain of being such a fashion victim drives my daughter to work at KFC – she goes through money like water, and knows we are not going to subsidise her weekly purchases of makeup, jewellery, hair extensions, several pairs of shoes, a few tops here and there and goodness knows how many jeans this child buys on a far too regular basis.
Her working is a great motivator for her to study hard. She sometimes complains her course is difficult, it’s not what she thought it was going to be and ‘I’m not sure I want to continue’ she frequently tells me. My standard response is, that’s fine, don’t do it if it’s not what you want to do, but you need to sort out an alternative course or a job with decent prospects. When she moans, I ask her if she wants to work at KFC on a full time basis – naff shifts, incredibly hot kitchens, long days, standing on your feet all day, smelling of fat etc etc. Her standard response is, ‘No thanks, it nearly kills me working there!’ Back to college tomorrow! : )
At the weekend my daughter works at KFC. To be fair the money is not too bad for a 17 year old, especially as it tops up the allowance we give her on a monthly basis while she is studying at college.
Her hourly rate is higher than a good friend of mine earns, working in a very well known fashion high street chain shop – this fact delights my daughter, yet mortifies my friend who is 38 years old and has 3 kids!! But at least when she comes home at the end of the day, she doesn’t smell of chicken and fat!!
So the pain of being such a fashion victim drives my daughter to work at KFC – she goes through money like water, and knows we are not going to subsidise her weekly purchases of makeup, jewellery, hair extensions, several pairs of shoes, a few tops here and there and goodness knows how many jeans this child buys on a far too regular basis.
Her working is a great motivator for her to study hard. She sometimes complains her course is difficult, it’s not what she thought it was going to be and ‘I’m not sure I want to continue’ she frequently tells me. My standard response is, that’s fine, don’t do it if it’s not what you want to do, but you need to sort out an alternative course or a job with decent prospects. When she moans, I ask her if she wants to work at KFC on a full time basis – naff shifts, incredibly hot kitchens, long days, standing on your feet all day, smelling of fat etc etc. Her standard response is, ‘No thanks, it nearly kills me working there!’ Back to college tomorrow! : )
Saturday, 14 April 2007
Oldtimers!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
On Wednesday I walked into the lounge and saw the answer phone light flashing away. The message was from my mother, asking me to give her a call. It was 2 hours after she’d left the original message and I called her - she couldn’t remember what she wanted.
Later on that day, I saw a missed call on my mobile from dear Hubby. I rang him and asked what he wanted. He couldn’t remember what he wanted!
I spoke to my Mom again yesterday, she still couldn’t remember what she wanted.
Hubby now doesn’t even remember calling me!
It’s really bothering me, what they wanted me for!! Moral of the story – make sure you carry all landline and mobile phones around with you AT ALL TIMES!!
On Wednesday I walked into the lounge and saw the answer phone light flashing away. The message was from my mother, asking me to give her a call. It was 2 hours after she’d left the original message and I called her - she couldn’t remember what she wanted.
Later on that day, I saw a missed call on my mobile from dear Hubby. I rang him and asked what he wanted. He couldn’t remember what he wanted!
I spoke to my Mom again yesterday, she still couldn’t remember what she wanted.
Hubby now doesn’t even remember calling me!
It’s really bothering me, what they wanted me for!! Moral of the story – make sure you carry all landline and mobile phones around with you AT ALL TIMES!!
I wish it had been the spider or the poo!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Yesterday, I was driving along, daughter at my side who was chatting away incessantly. She suddenly stopped talking, grabbed my hair and shouted, ‘Oh my God mom!’ Her reaction told me I had either a spider or bird poo in my hair!
‘You’ve got grey hair!’
‘Would you like to walk home dear?"
Yesterday, I was driving along, daughter at my side who was chatting away incessantly. She suddenly stopped talking, grabbed my hair and shouted, ‘Oh my God mom!’ Her reaction told me I had either a spider or bird poo in my hair!
‘You’ve got grey hair!’
‘Would you like to walk home dear?"
Car Insurance - Trauma 2
Daisy Turnip writes.....
My car insurance renewal quote is £400.13. This quote is for fully comprehensive cover plus business use for both myself and hubby.
Knowing that my daughter would benefit greatly if she could have additional driving lessons to the 1 ½ hours a week she currently has with ‘Steve the professional driving instructor’ I asked what it would cost to include my 17 year old daughter who is a learner driver. I then began to panic a little, thinking, ‘if it’s not too expensive, I’m going to have to add her to the policy, but that would mean I have to take her out on a driving lesson!!’ Oh no, I had a flash back to the time my Dad was trying to teach me to drive - him holding on for dear life to the hand brake as I drove along oblivious to the dangers of the road. Dad would make me drive round ‘the block’ - about 1 ½ miles - and every time we got back to our house, he’d make me stop the car and he’d run in for a wee!!! Poor guy, but top Dad!
Anyway, the quote was £2334!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Trauma over!
My car insurance renewal quote is £400.13. This quote is for fully comprehensive cover plus business use for both myself and hubby.
Knowing that my daughter would benefit greatly if she could have additional driving lessons to the 1 ½ hours a week she currently has with ‘Steve the professional driving instructor’ I asked what it would cost to include my 17 year old daughter who is a learner driver. I then began to panic a little, thinking, ‘if it’s not too expensive, I’m going to have to add her to the policy, but that would mean I have to take her out on a driving lesson!!’ Oh no, I had a flash back to the time my Dad was trying to teach me to drive - him holding on for dear life to the hand brake as I drove along oblivious to the dangers of the road. Dad would make me drive round ‘the block’ - about 1 ½ miles - and every time we got back to our house, he’d make me stop the car and he’d run in for a wee!!! Poor guy, but top Dad!
Anyway, the quote was £2334!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Trauma over!
Car Insurance - Trauma 1
Daisy Turnip writes.....
My car insurance is due for renewal and I needed to clarify a couple of things with my current policy. I rang the number and got put on to their call queuing system I started to wait. And wait. And wait, And wait. I carried on waiting and then started to trawl their website to see if I could find out the information from their online system. I couldn’t – it wasn’t available. Forty minutes I started to type an email to their customer services team, it read,
“I've now given up hoping that anyone will take my phone call at Fast UnFit. I tried to call you yesterday and finally opted for your ring back system, on the basis that the information provided by your system assured me that I would retain my place in the queue. I got a call approx 3 hours later, by this point I was no longer at home! Today, I have held for over forty minutes, listening to information about elks in Sweden and great nights out around the country - my fear is, that I'll still be holding on your queuing system and will not be able to make Wolverhampton’s Civic Hall – ever! I do not wish to sit holding for such a long period of time, I find this totally unacceptable and believe it is very very poor customer service indeed.
Apologies, rant over!
Is it possible that someone would please provide me with the following information……..”
And then the phone was answered by a member of staff, whom I vented my absolute anger and frustration at. She very professionally apologised and explained that Fast UnFit was well aware of the problem and that changes were imminent, new staff were being trained, their call centre would no longer be receiving as many calls and the matter should be resolved within the next week.
In my experience, good quality call centre staff, are very rarely found these days. When usually faced with non UK based call centre staff who are very difficult to understand and they have never heard of places like Wolverhampton, Milton Keynes or Warwickshire?! I’m a black country girl and most of the locals in Warwickshire find it difficult to understand me. You could write a comedy sketch about the numerous conversations I had with the non UK support line provided by BT Broadband – in the end, I was so incensed I gave up and moved my ISP to an alternative provider. Anyway, I digress back to Fast Unfit. After holding for over 30 minutes I had told myself that on principle I would be taking the renewal of my policy to another company. Due to the professionalism of this member of staff, I changed my mind, I will still be looking at alternative quotes, but Fast UnFit’s quote, will remain in my options of car insurance provider.
I’m worried now that the changes this member of staff was talking about means a non UK call centre? I do hope not, because I would simply hate having to move my car insurance in order to seek an all UK based call centres and staff!!
My car insurance is due for renewal and I needed to clarify a couple of things with my current policy. I rang the number and got put on to their call queuing system I started to wait. And wait. And wait, And wait. I carried on waiting and then started to trawl their website to see if I could find out the information from their online system. I couldn’t – it wasn’t available. Forty minutes I started to type an email to their customer services team, it read,
“I've now given up hoping that anyone will take my phone call at Fast UnFit. I tried to call you yesterday and finally opted for your ring back system, on the basis that the information provided by your system assured me that I would retain my place in the queue. I got a call approx 3 hours later, by this point I was no longer at home! Today, I have held for over forty minutes, listening to information about elks in Sweden and great nights out around the country - my fear is, that I'll still be holding on your queuing system and will not be able to make Wolverhampton’s Civic Hall – ever! I do not wish to sit holding for such a long period of time, I find this totally unacceptable and believe it is very very poor customer service indeed.
Apologies, rant over!
Is it possible that someone would please provide me with the following information……..”
And then the phone was answered by a member of staff, whom I vented my absolute anger and frustration at. She very professionally apologised and explained that Fast UnFit was well aware of the problem and that changes were imminent, new staff were being trained, their call centre would no longer be receiving as many calls and the matter should be resolved within the next week.
In my experience, good quality call centre staff, are very rarely found these days. When usually faced with non UK based call centre staff who are very difficult to understand and they have never heard of places like Wolverhampton, Milton Keynes or Warwickshire?! I’m a black country girl and most of the locals in Warwickshire find it difficult to understand me. You could write a comedy sketch about the numerous conversations I had with the non UK support line provided by BT Broadband – in the end, I was so incensed I gave up and moved my ISP to an alternative provider. Anyway, I digress back to Fast Unfit. After holding for over 30 minutes I had told myself that on principle I would be taking the renewal of my policy to another company. Due to the professionalism of this member of staff, I changed my mind, I will still be looking at alternative quotes, but Fast UnFit’s quote, will remain in my options of car insurance provider.
I’m worried now that the changes this member of staff was talking about means a non UK call centre? I do hope not, because I would simply hate having to move my car insurance in order to seek an all UK based call centres and staff!!
Monday, 9 April 2007
Neighbours
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Our new neighbour came round for a quick G&T last night - arrived at 5pm left at 11’ish. One bbq plus a bottle of gin later - we know we’re going to get along just fine! : )
Our new neighbour came round for a quick G&T last night - arrived at 5pm left at 11’ish. One bbq plus a bottle of gin later - we know we’re going to get along just fine! : )
Bird Feed v’s Grass Seed
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Bird Feed v’s Grass Seed
Fat balls, peanuts, nyger seed, wild bird seed, sunflower seeds, bread, apples and pears. That is the daily variety of foods available to the birds in our garden – they are totally spoiled for choice.
So why oh why, are they happily munching on the grass seed that’s been scattered (and covered with sand and soil), in order for us to have a lovely, lush, green garden this summer!!!
Life’s just so unfair!!
Bird Feed v’s Grass Seed
Fat balls, peanuts, nyger seed, wild bird seed, sunflower seeds, bread, apples and pears. That is the daily variety of foods available to the birds in our garden – they are totally spoiled for choice.
So why oh why, are they happily munching on the grass seed that’s been scattered (and covered with sand and soil), in order for us to have a lovely, lush, green garden this summer!!!
Life’s just so unfair!!
Quality Viewing
Daisy Turnip writes.....
A few weeks back we had Sky TV installed because our village is officially a non Freeview area, it also turns out to be a non normal TV area because we had to install a double booster aerial to just about get a half decent picture. Not one aerial company would guarantee a half decent picture on a normal TV – don’t even go there re a digital picture – it’s terrible, deal with it and move on kind of thing
As much as we didn’t want to go there, we’ve had Sky TV installed – secretly, I did smile when the dish and box was installed though – all those makeover programmes 24/7!
We now have verging on 3001 channels all for a bargain price of £15 a month!!!!!!!! Brilliant! So why do we find ourselves still having to watch DVDs most nights, because there’s nothing worth watching on the new system!!!!!! Hmmmmm
A few weeks back we had Sky TV installed because our village is officially a non Freeview area, it also turns out to be a non normal TV area because we had to install a double booster aerial to just about get a half decent picture. Not one aerial company would guarantee a half decent picture on a normal TV – don’t even go there re a digital picture – it’s terrible, deal with it and move on kind of thing
As much as we didn’t want to go there, we’ve had Sky TV installed – secretly, I did smile when the dish and box was installed though – all those makeover programmes 24/7!
We now have verging on 3001 channels all for a bargain price of £15 a month!!!!!!!! Brilliant! So why do we find ourselves still having to watch DVDs most nights, because there’s nothing worth watching on the new system!!!!!! Hmmmmm
Friday, 6 April 2007
Spaghetti Bolo-No-Herbs
Daisy Turnip writes.....
After a hard day grafting in the garden, re-potting a load of plants and potting and planting some new ones, dearest Hubby offered to cook dinner tonight – spaghetti bolognaise. Yummy, food always tastes better when it’s been cooked by someone else.
I sat at the table and a plate of gorgeous looking spag bol was placed in front of me. ‘Hmmmm, lovely’ I said and tucked in with vigour. This was shortly followed by, ‘Did you forget to put the oregano in?’ ‘Bugger,’ came Hubby’s reply, ‘looks like it’ – we still devoured it all. Very nice is spaghetti bolo-no-herbs!!
After a hard day grafting in the garden, re-potting a load of plants and potting and planting some new ones, dearest Hubby offered to cook dinner tonight – spaghetti bolognaise. Yummy, food always tastes better when it’s been cooked by someone else.
I sat at the table and a plate of gorgeous looking spag bol was placed in front of me. ‘Hmmmm, lovely’ I said and tucked in with vigour. This was shortly followed by, ‘Did you forget to put the oregano in?’ ‘Bugger,’ came Hubby’s reply, ‘looks like it’ – we still devoured it all. Very nice is spaghetti bolo-no-herbs!!
Thursday, 5 April 2007
Peeing in the Garden is Good!!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
We are quite ‘green’ in our house and recycle most things although we don’t compost garden and food waste. We’ve talked about getting a composter for a good couple of years and at the beginning of this week I ordered a compost bin. This week I decided that we need to move up the recycling scale!
A work colleague, come good family friend has composted for years and totally swears by it. The same person has recently been in hospital for a considerable operation and for the last week I’ve told myself daily, ‘I must remember to ring composter, colleague, come good family friend to see how he is’.
Anyway, tonight, sitting talking to Hubby, I remembered to tell him I’d ordered the compost bin and that it would be arriving within the next couple of days. He smiled with glee and said, ‘Oh, so you can now unleash me to pee in the garden!’
This comment then reminded me to ring composter, colleague, come good family friend to see how he is – he’s a big componster and swears by regularly peeing in his compost bin – it provides quick and fantastic compost!! No, not literally, he does it in a container and takes it out and pours it over the waste EVENLY. Apparently, read the books and go on tinternet, they all say it’s true and it provides fantastic compost for the garden!
I dialled the number and he answered the phone, ‘Hi, it’s me, we were just talking about peeing in the garden and it reminded me I needed to call to see how you are!!!’
We are quite ‘green’ in our house and recycle most things although we don’t compost garden and food waste. We’ve talked about getting a composter for a good couple of years and at the beginning of this week I ordered a compost bin. This week I decided that we need to move up the recycling scale!
A work colleague, come good family friend has composted for years and totally swears by it. The same person has recently been in hospital for a considerable operation and for the last week I’ve told myself daily, ‘I must remember to ring composter, colleague, come good family friend to see how he is’.
Anyway, tonight, sitting talking to Hubby, I remembered to tell him I’d ordered the compost bin and that it would be arriving within the next couple of days. He smiled with glee and said, ‘Oh, so you can now unleash me to pee in the garden!’
This comment then reminded me to ring composter, colleague, come good family friend to see how he is – he’s a big componster and swears by regularly peeing in his compost bin – it provides quick and fantastic compost!! No, not literally, he does it in a container and takes it out and pours it over the waste EVENLY. Apparently, read the books and go on tinternet, they all say it’s true and it provides fantastic compost for the garden!
I dialled the number and he answered the phone, ‘Hi, it’s me, we were just talking about peeing in the garden and it reminded me I needed to call to see how you are!!!’
Kangaroo Juice
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Daughter has just set off on her driving lesson.
If I don’t watch her pull off, ‘I don’t care’ and if I do watch her pull off, ‘I make her nervous’!? As a parent of a teenage daughter, once you’ve accepted that fact that whatever you do is wrong, you’ve then got your baseline!
Anyway, I watched - and she showed me the technical kangaroo skills she’s developed over the last couple of months!!
Daughter has just set off on her driving lesson.
If I don’t watch her pull off, ‘I don’t care’ and if I do watch her pull off, ‘I make her nervous’!? As a parent of a teenage daughter, once you’ve accepted that fact that whatever you do is wrong, you’ve then got your baseline!
Anyway, I watched - and she showed me the technical kangaroo skills she’s developed over the last couple of months!!
Tuesday, 3 April 2007
Mr Ting Tong Update
Daisy Turnip writes.....
You may be pleased to know, the shirts arrived today!
Still waiting for the suit though!
Will keep avid readers informed as and when!
You may be pleased to know, the shirts arrived today!
Still waiting for the suit though!
Will keep avid readers informed as and when!
Know Your Geography
Daisy Turnip writes.....
First thing this morning Hubby was chuntering on about having to go to Marlow tomorrow. ‘Where’s Marlow?’ I asked. ‘Essex’ came his reply, coupled with a look of ‘you surely know where Marlow is?’ ‘Oh yeah, you mean Harlow!’
A meek ‘Yes, Harlow’ came his response!
First thing this morning Hubby was chuntering on about having to go to Marlow tomorrow. ‘Where’s Marlow?’ I asked. ‘Essex’ came his reply, coupled with a look of ‘you surely know where Marlow is?’ ‘Oh yeah, you mean Harlow!’
A meek ‘Yes, Harlow’ came his response!
Monday, 2 April 2007
Bit of a Twitcher
Daisy Turnip writes.....
I have 10 bird feeders in my garden and spend a small fortune each month feeding the variety of birds that come into our garden. Yesterday, I went to buy my monthly stock of seeds and fat balls and returned home with a bird bath too. Hubby’s eyes looked to the sky and he then shook his head in disbelief. I smiled with glee and myself and favourite nephew assembled the hanging bath and hung it from one of the trees. It looks fab and I’m sure the local birds will soon take the plunge in their shiny new bath.
As you may know I’m currently on secondment and based from home for the duration of the contract. A couple of weeks ago, I had a meeting at home with someone I know well from my substantive post – we’ll call him TW (for all you safety freaks out there, don’t worry, I don’t do home meetings with people I don’t know well). Anyway, we were sitting at the kitchen table having a meeting about progress and actions plans etc and TW kept looking out of the kitchen window. In the end he jumped up and said, ‘I’m really sorry Michelle, but do you have sparrows in your garden?’ ‘Oh, yes, lots of them’ I said. For the next 20 mins we both leant on the work surface staring out of the kitchen window looking into the garden and the various birds that were stuffing their beaks on their feed. TW doesn’t have sparrows in his garden, and ‘only gets’ great spotted woodpeckers etc (I was very green when he shared this with me).
An hour or so later he left with a spare bird feeder and a bag of seeds!
He too is a bit of a twitcher, and like me, only ‘does it’ in the confines of his own garden. Today I am ready to come out of my bird box – I am a mini twitcher!! In fact to celebrate in true style I today became a member of the RSPB!
I have 10 bird feeders in my garden and spend a small fortune each month feeding the variety of birds that come into our garden. Yesterday, I went to buy my monthly stock of seeds and fat balls and returned home with a bird bath too. Hubby’s eyes looked to the sky and he then shook his head in disbelief. I smiled with glee and myself and favourite nephew assembled the hanging bath and hung it from one of the trees. It looks fab and I’m sure the local birds will soon take the plunge in their shiny new bath.
As you may know I’m currently on secondment and based from home for the duration of the contract. A couple of weeks ago, I had a meeting at home with someone I know well from my substantive post – we’ll call him TW (for all you safety freaks out there, don’t worry, I don’t do home meetings with people I don’t know well). Anyway, we were sitting at the kitchen table having a meeting about progress and actions plans etc and TW kept looking out of the kitchen window. In the end he jumped up and said, ‘I’m really sorry Michelle, but do you have sparrows in your garden?’ ‘Oh, yes, lots of them’ I said. For the next 20 mins we both leant on the work surface staring out of the kitchen window looking into the garden and the various birds that were stuffing their beaks on their feed. TW doesn’t have sparrows in his garden, and ‘only gets’ great spotted woodpeckers etc (I was very green when he shared this with me).
An hour or so later he left with a spare bird feeder and a bag of seeds!
He too is a bit of a twitcher, and like me, only ‘does it’ in the confines of his own garden. Today I am ready to come out of my bird box – I am a mini twitcher!! In fact to celebrate in true style I today became a member of the RSPB!
Sunday, 1 April 2007
Technophobe Parent and i-Pod
Daisy Turnip writes.....My Dad is a complete techno phobe! I’m serious, he can only just about work the remote control!!
My parents came to stay with us this weekend after recently returning from a 3 month trip to Spain (remember ‘The Balcony Blogs?’). Dad and Hubby must have missed each other immensely, as they celebrated by consuming numerous bottles of Rioja (ok, so I helped a little). And then, for some reason, Hubby’s i-pod appeared on the scene. We never saw Dad for the rest of the evening – well, to be fair we HEARD him – big time, as his gaily sung away to a number of the 22,000 songs and videos Hubby has stored on that little silver box!
I do have recorded footage of his ‘jamming session’ but unfortunately I promised both Hubby and Mother that they will remain sacrosanct in the walls of the home PC – party poopers!!
My parents came to stay with us this weekend after recently returning from a 3 month trip to Spain (remember ‘The Balcony Blogs?’). Dad and Hubby must have missed each other immensely, as they celebrated by consuming numerous bottles of Rioja (ok, so I helped a little). And then, for some reason, Hubby’s i-pod appeared on the scene. We never saw Dad for the rest of the evening – well, to be fair we HEARD him – big time, as his gaily sung away to a number of the 22,000 songs and videos Hubby has stored on that little silver box!
I do have recorded footage of his ‘jamming session’ but unfortunately I promised both Hubby and Mother that they will remain sacrosanct in the walls of the home PC – party poopers!!
Jeremy Kyle’s Abuse of Teenagers! How Dare He!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Daughter didn’t go to college on Thursday. She had a bad cold and a very very sore throat. I knew she was ill because she came home at 8.30 on Wednesday night and went straight to bed - this never happens. Teenagers do tend to take the attitude of you can sleep when you die – my Daughter lives to this motto with an absolute passion (unless it’s in the morning and she can’t prise herself out of bed!!).
She woke up on Thursday morning, walked into my office (ie spare room) and croaked, ‘I really can’t go to college today, I feel so ill’ and put that, ‘I’m really ill, please sympathise with me’ look on her face.
I sympathised and told her not to worry and go back to bed. No, I am NOT a push over mother. I was a single, full time working mom for years. The child of a full time working, single mother has to be bleeding from the eyes, in order to wangle a day off school. Full time working moms usually have to adopt the attitude of ‘if your child is THAT ill, you’ll get a call from the school to come and collect them’ – that’s easier for your employer to handle! Don’t even go there about the guilt trips we all have to go through!
Daughter went downstairs with her fleecy blanket and lay on the sofa to flick through the 101 Sky channels of absolute day time TV crap. I continued to work.
About an hour later, Daughter came upstairs sobbing. And I mean, seriously sobbing. I knew something was drastically wrong because she came and gave me a hug! ‘What on earth is that matter?’ I said, thinking she must have been in incredible pain with her throat. ‘It’s, it’s, boo hoo, it’s, it’s, aaagggghhh, oh mom, it’s the Jeremy Kyle show.’ I’ve moved from absolute terror to absolute disbelief!! Jeremy Kyle could distress my daughter so much? I know it’s naff TV, but all you have to do is hit the up and down channel key. ‘No’ she said, ‘it’s about people who have lost loved ones and can’t move on with their lives’. I think, for the first time as a parent, I was absolutely baffled as to what to say. I did feel the urge to say, ‘Well, just remember to be nice to all family members instead of your hormonal outbursts’ but I was good, and just stroked her arm and said, ‘awww, don’t be silly’ (well what else can you say?).
She then proceeded to go into her bedroom (fleecy blanket in tow) and switch on her TV. I asked her what she was doing, ‘watching the rest of Jeremy Kyle’ came her response between the sobs!!
Daughter didn’t go to college on Thursday. She had a bad cold and a very very sore throat. I knew she was ill because she came home at 8.30 on Wednesday night and went straight to bed - this never happens. Teenagers do tend to take the attitude of you can sleep when you die – my Daughter lives to this motto with an absolute passion (unless it’s in the morning and she can’t prise herself out of bed!!).
She woke up on Thursday morning, walked into my office (ie spare room) and croaked, ‘I really can’t go to college today, I feel so ill’ and put that, ‘I’m really ill, please sympathise with me’ look on her face.
I sympathised and told her not to worry and go back to bed. No, I am NOT a push over mother. I was a single, full time working mom for years. The child of a full time working, single mother has to be bleeding from the eyes, in order to wangle a day off school. Full time working moms usually have to adopt the attitude of ‘if your child is THAT ill, you’ll get a call from the school to come and collect them’ – that’s easier for your employer to handle! Don’t even go there about the guilt trips we all have to go through!
Daughter went downstairs with her fleecy blanket and lay on the sofa to flick through the 101 Sky channels of absolute day time TV crap. I continued to work.
About an hour later, Daughter came upstairs sobbing. And I mean, seriously sobbing. I knew something was drastically wrong because she came and gave me a hug! ‘What on earth is that matter?’ I said, thinking she must have been in incredible pain with her throat. ‘It’s, it’s, boo hoo, it’s, it’s, aaagggghhh, oh mom, it’s the Jeremy Kyle show.’ I’ve moved from absolute terror to absolute disbelief!! Jeremy Kyle could distress my daughter so much? I know it’s naff TV, but all you have to do is hit the up and down channel key. ‘No’ she said, ‘it’s about people who have lost loved ones and can’t move on with their lives’. I think, for the first time as a parent, I was absolutely baffled as to what to say. I did feel the urge to say, ‘Well, just remember to be nice to all family members instead of your hormonal outbursts’ but I was good, and just stroked her arm and said, ‘awww, don’t be silly’ (well what else can you say?).
She then proceeded to go into her bedroom (fleecy blanket in tow) and switch on her TV. I asked her what she was doing, ‘watching the rest of Jeremy Kyle’ came her response between the sobs!!
Male V's Female Drivers
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Until very recently Hubby was an automotive engineer, working on incredibly fast and incredibly expensive cars. In order to test ‘things’ on such cars frequently meant driving at speeds of 150 – 200 miles an hour, around various test tracks across Europe.
Before engineers are allowed to do such high speed testing, they must pass an advanced power car driving proficiency test (not the kind you can do with BSM). Hubby is therefore very proud of the fact that he’s accredited and has passed such grueling tests (he actually got stopped by the police when having his final test on one of the Surrey A roads – and still passed!!).
Whenever we go anywhere (unless it’s coming back from the pub) Hubby always drives the car!
We went into town yesterday and spotted a super parking space. Hubby reversed in, pulled out, reversed back in, pulled back out and this continued for a couple of minutes. Finally, he put on the handbrake, opened the car door and said, ‘You do it’. 30 seconds later, I smugly got out the car after parking it in one single smooth maneuver!
Until very recently Hubby was an automotive engineer, working on incredibly fast and incredibly expensive cars. In order to test ‘things’ on such cars frequently meant driving at speeds of 150 – 200 miles an hour, around various test tracks across Europe.
Before engineers are allowed to do such high speed testing, they must pass an advanced power car driving proficiency test (not the kind you can do with BSM). Hubby is therefore very proud of the fact that he’s accredited and has passed such grueling tests (he actually got stopped by the police when having his final test on one of the Surrey A roads – and still passed!!).
Whenever we go anywhere (unless it’s coming back from the pub) Hubby always drives the car!
We went into town yesterday and spotted a super parking space. Hubby reversed in, pulled out, reversed back in, pulled back out and this continued for a couple of minutes. Finally, he put on the handbrake, opened the car door and said, ‘You do it’. 30 seconds later, I smugly got out the car after parking it in one single smooth maneuver!
Thursday, 29 March 2007
Pigeon Fancier
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Myself and 2 colleagues were in a meeting, faced with 6 fairly hostile managers. We were trying to convince them to sign up to our project and they were having none of it!
One guy, AKA Doubting Thomas, was seriously giving us a hard time and while he was doing so, I happened to glance over his shoulder, and look out of the window. There, behind Mr Thomas, were 2 pigeons mating on the window ledge!!!
Myself and 2 colleagues were in a meeting, faced with 6 fairly hostile managers. We were trying to convince them to sign up to our project and they were having none of it!
One guy, AKA Doubting Thomas, was seriously giving us a hard time and while he was doing so, I happened to glance over his shoulder, and look out of the window. There, behind Mr Thomas, were 2 pigeons mating on the window ledge!!!
Tuesday, 27 March 2007
Keeping Up With The Jones's
Daisy Turnip writes.....
For the last few weeks I’ve been asking hubby whether or not we can cut the lawn. He keeps informing me it’s still too wet to cut. And then last week our neighbour got the mower out to do his ‘first cut’. His side of the road must be drier than ours! Funny that!
Anyway, at the time, Hubby and I were sat at the kitchen table reading the Sunday papers when I heard the mower set off on its first trip around their garden. ‘Hmmm,’ I said, ‘pressure’s on dear hubby – you’re on borrowed time, the garden can now be mowed’. ‘Okay dear’ came his response.
Two weeks later, it’s still not cut!
Tonight, neighbour was out on his drive potting up some plants and painting his fence. Hubby pulled up, slammed the door of his car and ran over to said neighbour and said, ‘For God’s sake man, get back in the house, she’s going to make me do something if you carry on like this!’
What’s the weather forecast for this weekend?
For the last few weeks I’ve been asking hubby whether or not we can cut the lawn. He keeps informing me it’s still too wet to cut. And then last week our neighbour got the mower out to do his ‘first cut’. His side of the road must be drier than ours! Funny that!
Anyway, at the time, Hubby and I were sat at the kitchen table reading the Sunday papers when I heard the mower set off on its first trip around their garden. ‘Hmmm,’ I said, ‘pressure’s on dear hubby – you’re on borrowed time, the garden can now be mowed’. ‘Okay dear’ came his response.
Two weeks later, it’s still not cut!
Tonight, neighbour was out on his drive potting up some plants and painting his fence. Hubby pulled up, slammed the door of his car and ran over to said neighbour and said, ‘For God’s sake man, get back in the house, she’s going to make me do something if you carry on like this!’
What’s the weather forecast for this weekend?
Sunday, 25 March 2007
Seagull Cannibalism
Whilst eating our sandwiches at the top of a mountain, a seagull appeared and became very interested in what we were eating. It must have been really hungry because he came within about 3ft of us.Mountain Men, ie David and John, started throwing her (they informed us it was a she, because it had red markings under her beak and this is where the chicks tap to make her regurgitate her food in order to feed them!! Very nice hearing this, when you’re part way through your sandwich) food.
Sally, by now she’s been named, liked the following:-
- Bread
- Cheese
- Hot and spicy pepperoni sticks!!! Ouch, they are very very hot
- Walkers chicken crisps (isn’t that some form of cannibalism?)
But, she doesn’t like M&Ms – of any colour!!!
Psychic Mechanical Knowledge
After leaving the car park, we were walking along the road in search of the start of the public footpath. We noticed a car in the lay by with a couple peering under the bonnet. When we were about 6 ft away they shouted, ‘Do you know anything about cars?’ - they said nothing else, I promise, no other words came out of their mouths. Twirl shouted back, ‘Is it your carburettor?’
She does occasionally dye her hair blonde!
Addendum
Twirl's sent me a text, 'Chell I said alternator not carb'. Hmmm
She does occasionally dye her hair blonde!
Addendum
Twirl's sent me a text, 'Chell I said alternator not carb'. Hmmm
Twirl’s a Springer
We went walking in North Wales yesterday. The day was glorious - fantastic blue skies, the sun was shining and there a lovely chilly breeze to keep us cool – we’re not as fit as we used to be and therefore tend to get a little hot and sweaty on the way up to the 3000ft mountain trig point.
Myself, Hubby, Hubby’s best mate John and his wife Twirl (AKA Shirley) set off from the car park on the outskirts of Llanberis, laden down with 30 litre rucksacks, gallons of water to keep our unfit bodies from dehydrating, our take away sandwiches from the fabulous (or ‘fabalus’ as my Welsh friend Siân pronounces it) Pete’s Eats, our waterproof clothing and survival gear ‘just in case’. Apart from that is, Our Twirl who carries no rucksack, but has a little bun bag which we call Karriless, not Karrimor. To be fair, our Twirl is very very petite and the usual size rucksack is often longer in length than Twirl’s body – the rucksack becomes a little of a hindrance when scrambling up rocks and scree. John assures us, she has everything needed in the bun bag – medical kit ie plaster, rope ie a lace, survival bag ie one of those foil marathon type blankets, whistle and lipstick! : )
Prior to each walk, ‘the boys’ get out the map, discuss and debate the landscape and scale of the mountains and repeatedly inform us whether or not it’s a Diff (difficult), E Diff (extremely difficult), V Diff (very difficult) etc climb and then finally plot out the route of the day. They decide how many peaks we’re going to attempt and sort out all the escape routes, just in case the weather is too bad to carry on, or we’re too shattered or fall ill or injured in anyway.
Off we go, walking along, huffing and puffing, stopping for the occasional fag break, wondering why this mountain walking business is getting more and more difficult as we get older (and doing it less frequently by the way). Twirl, who doesn’t smoke and only carries a bun bag (which sometimes finds its way into John’s rucksack!!) springs along, bouncing from one rock and boulder to another and always, without exception, some massive cheery grin on her sweatless face.
I’m not bitter! : )
Myself, Hubby, Hubby’s best mate John and his wife Twirl (AKA Shirley) set off from the car park on the outskirts of Llanberis, laden down with 30 litre rucksacks, gallons of water to keep our unfit bodies from dehydrating, our take away sandwiches from the fabulous (or ‘fabalus’ as my Welsh friend Siân pronounces it) Pete’s Eats, our waterproof clothing and survival gear ‘just in case’. Apart from that is, Our Twirl who carries no rucksack, but has a little bun bag which we call Karriless, not Karrimor. To be fair, our Twirl is very very petite and the usual size rucksack is often longer in length than Twirl’s body – the rucksack becomes a little of a hindrance when scrambling up rocks and scree. John assures us, she has everything needed in the bun bag – medical kit ie plaster, rope ie a lace, survival bag ie one of those foil marathon type blankets, whistle and lipstick! : )
Prior to each walk, ‘the boys’ get out the map, discuss and debate the landscape and scale of the mountains and repeatedly inform us whether or not it’s a Diff (difficult), E Diff (extremely difficult), V Diff (very difficult) etc climb and then finally plot out the route of the day. They decide how many peaks we’re going to attempt and sort out all the escape routes, just in case the weather is too bad to carry on, or we’re too shattered or fall ill or injured in anyway.
Off we go, walking along, huffing and puffing, stopping for the occasional fag break, wondering why this mountain walking business is getting more and more difficult as we get older (and doing it less frequently by the way). Twirl, who doesn’t smoke and only carries a bun bag (which sometimes finds its way into John’s rucksack!!) springs along, bouncing from one rock and boulder to another and always, without exception, some massive cheery grin on her sweatless face.
I’m not bitter! : )
Saturday, 17 March 2007
I Am Bothered - Tony Blair
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Back in August of last year, after 17 years of membership, I cancelled my direct debit to the Labour Party. I withdrew from party membership!! This was a big deal to me, but I am thoroughly fed up of Old Tone.
Last night, after watching him on Comic Relief, made me think for just one milli second that I might just rejoin! I’m fine now and the moment has passed, however, hats off to him – his legacy will be Red Nose Day, Friday 16th March!
If you didn’t watch it, click here and enjoy
Back in August of last year, after 17 years of membership, I cancelled my direct debit to the Labour Party. I withdrew from party membership!! This was a big deal to me, but I am thoroughly fed up of Old Tone.
Last night, after watching him on Comic Relief, made me think for just one milli second that I might just rejoin! I’m fine now and the moment has passed, however, hats off to him – his legacy will be Red Nose Day, Friday 16th March!
If you didn’t watch it, click here and enjoy
Thursday, 15 March 2007
Teenage Exaggerations
Daughter had another driving lesson yesterday. The text, following the end of her lesson read, ‘brilliant lesson, he made me go 80 miles an hour’
Do you think I need to ‘have words’ with Mr Instructor or do you reckon daughter FEELS like she was driving at 80mph?!
Do you think I need to ‘have words’ with Mr Instructor or do you reckon daughter FEELS like she was driving at 80mph?!
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