Daisy Turnip writes.....
Our dog Bailey, may be utterly gorgeous, cute and loveable but he’s certainly no Border Collie - in fact he’s as thick as pudding and has the attention span of a gnat!!
He hates cats and in his younger days, would have chased them until he had not a single breath left in his body. He’s now a lot older, but I’m sad to say, not much wiser!
I came downstairs this morning, opened the back door and out he ran into the garden. A couple of minutes later I looked through the window, only to see this huge black cat hurtling across the lawn like a nuclear guided missile! ‘Oh no’ I thought, ‘Bailey must be chasing him’. A few seconds later, nothing, no dog chasing the cat! I looked in his basket, and he wasn’t there, so he must still be out in the garden. And indeed he was – totally oblivious to the cat he’d just missed!!
The cat had escaped and was now sitting on top of the shed and continued to sit there for about 5 minutes before dear ‘old gormless’ noticed it. Bailey, then being Mr Hardman of the back garden, decided to show off his territorial side by giving a firm bark at the cat – one single bark! He then promptly ran back into the house and hopped into his nice warm basket!
Monday, 26 February 2007
Sunday, 25 February 2007
Teenage Ramblings
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Last night, Hubby and I drove teenage Daughter and teenage friend into town as they were going to a friend’s party.
God, I thought teenagers were just supposed to scowl at adults and remain silent, giving the occasional grunt when asked a question by ‘old folk’.
I happened to ask how Daughter’s friend was progressing with her driving lessons! Wow, we could not believe our ears!! Both teenagers simply catapulted into dialogue – at the same time, both speaking over each other yet both telling us, and each other, how their lessons were going. Neither of them were listening to each other, yet they continued to talk at the same time about how their instructors were getting them to drive one handed (is this really true, I honestly cannot remember learning to drive with the instructor telling me to take one hand off the wheel. Hubby later informed me that his instructor held a stick in his hand and would hit his hand if he removed it from the wheel!! Ouch, now that is a little OTT for my liking and I wouldn’t like to think my daughter’s instructor would do that – but I would prefer something ‘in the middle ground’ to say the least). Daughter informed me, “You need to drive with one hand, for things like, if you’re changing CDs and the radio station” – oh god, I want her to revert back to a newborn baby, keeping me awake on the hour, for every hour, throughout the entire night!!
Daughter’s friend apparently keeps crying during lessons, has truly perfected the art of stalling the car and is very indecisive when pulling away from T-junctions. Daughter complained that a TRACTOR overtook her on a country lane and she nearly ended up in the verge!!! A tractor? How the bloody hell can a tractor over take a car??? I was truly speechless at his comment and I thought Hubby was going to crash the car!
Anyway, this dual conversation / talk at session, continued for the 20 minutes it took us to arrive in town.
They got out of the car – Hubby and I just glanced at each other and laughed. Those poor, poor driving instructors, oh how they must earn their money!!
Last night, Hubby and I drove teenage Daughter and teenage friend into town as they were going to a friend’s party.
God, I thought teenagers were just supposed to scowl at adults and remain silent, giving the occasional grunt when asked a question by ‘old folk’.
I happened to ask how Daughter’s friend was progressing with her driving lessons! Wow, we could not believe our ears!! Both teenagers simply catapulted into dialogue – at the same time, both speaking over each other yet both telling us, and each other, how their lessons were going. Neither of them were listening to each other, yet they continued to talk at the same time about how their instructors were getting them to drive one handed (is this really true, I honestly cannot remember learning to drive with the instructor telling me to take one hand off the wheel. Hubby later informed me that his instructor held a stick in his hand and would hit his hand if he removed it from the wheel!! Ouch, now that is a little OTT for my liking and I wouldn’t like to think my daughter’s instructor would do that – but I would prefer something ‘in the middle ground’ to say the least). Daughter informed me, “You need to drive with one hand, for things like, if you’re changing CDs and the radio station” – oh god, I want her to revert back to a newborn baby, keeping me awake on the hour, for every hour, throughout the entire night!!
Daughter’s friend apparently keeps crying during lessons, has truly perfected the art of stalling the car and is very indecisive when pulling away from T-junctions. Daughter complained that a TRACTOR overtook her on a country lane and she nearly ended up in the verge!!! A tractor? How the bloody hell can a tractor over take a car??? I was truly speechless at his comment and I thought Hubby was going to crash the car!
Anyway, this dual conversation / talk at session, continued for the 20 minutes it took us to arrive in town.
They got out of the car – Hubby and I just glanced at each other and laughed. Those poor, poor driving instructors, oh how they must earn their money!!
Labels:
driving lessons,
over taking,
teenage daughters,
tractor
Husband, the Birmingham Toll Road and a National conspiracy
My husband turned 40 last month. Over the last year or so he has become more and more like Victor Meldrew!!!
He hates paying for the toll road (unless of course, he's claiming mileage and expenses on a business trip).
We recently went to The Lake District for my birthday. We left home on Friday afternoon and from the moment we left, i begged and begged that we took the toll road. I didn't want to risk going on the M6 between Birmingham and Walsall on a Friday afternoon - trust me, it's always a nightmare. So I said I would pay and he therefore agreed that we would go on the toll road. We made fantastic time and got to Cartmel in brilliant timing.
On the way home - oooh, slightly different story. Hubby knew that because I'd paid for the toll road on the way up (and it was my birthday) he really should pay for it on the return journey. The matrix signs were saying, 'M6 busy, toll road clear'. Hubby then reliably informed me that the matrix signs, saying the toll road is clear, is a total conspiracy between the gov't and the toll road owners. He REFUSED to go on the toll road!! We hit Hilton Main services of the M6 and then proceeded to sit there in traffic! I contemplated writing a note in order to to flash to the other drivers, saying, 'I bet you wish you weren't tight like my husband and that we all took the toll road!'
He's tight, there is no conspiracy. Will his Victor'isms get worse as he gets older?
Help me
He hates paying for the toll road (unless of course, he's claiming mileage and expenses on a business trip).
We recently went to The Lake District for my birthday. We left home on Friday afternoon and from the moment we left, i begged and begged that we took the toll road. I didn't want to risk going on the M6 between Birmingham and Walsall on a Friday afternoon - trust me, it's always a nightmare. So I said I would pay and he therefore agreed that we would go on the toll road. We made fantastic time and got to Cartmel in brilliant timing.
On the way home - oooh, slightly different story. Hubby knew that because I'd paid for the toll road on the way up (and it was my birthday) he really should pay for it on the return journey. The matrix signs were saying, 'M6 busy, toll road clear'. Hubby then reliably informed me that the matrix signs, saying the toll road is clear, is a total conspiracy between the gov't and the toll road owners. He REFUSED to go on the toll road!! We hit Hilton Main services of the M6 and then proceeded to sit there in traffic! I contemplated writing a note in order to to flash to the other drivers, saying, 'I bet you wish you weren't tight like my husband and that we all took the toll road!'
He's tight, there is no conspiracy. Will his Victor'isms get worse as he gets older?
Help me
Saturday, 24 February 2007
In town without my car! Trying to be eco friendly - never again!
Back in September 2005, I worked in Birmingham City centre and based upon a region wide initiative to leave your car at home for the day, I decided to try out going to work on the train instead of using my gas guzzeling car. The following email is what I sent to all colleagues the night of my experiment in using public transport
-----Original Message-----
From: Michelle
Sent: Thu 22/09/2005 9:36 PM
To: ALL STAFF
Subject: In town without my car!
This email has absolutely nothing at all to do with work, it's also incredibly long (approx 3 A4 pages worth) - it's about my experience of 'in town without my car day'. Please feel free to delete this before reading another line, UNLESS you happen to work on transport issues, or you like to hear of other peoples trauma or your name happens to be FRAN!
Fran's recent email (about leave your car at home - get a free train pass into work on Tuesday 22 September (a date I will NEVER forget)) managed to set off the old guilt chip in my head! After all, I do a considerable amount of miles in the car, I am now seriously unfit and although I do a fair amount of recycling at home, I know I could be a lot 'greener' so to speak. So, I decided to take up CENTROs very kind offer of a free ticket and catch the train on 'in town without my car day'. I completed the online application for the free travel card! It arrived last week - I felt pretty proud of myself, being so brave and bold to leave the car at home and doing something for the environment and all that!
I had every intention of leaving the car at home today, in order to carry out my complete journey on public transport, however the first bus doesn't venture near our village until 7.30! I therefore left home in plenty of time to catch the 6.44 train from sunny Leamington Spa (I did think about going to Warwick Parkway, because there's more parking, but I thought, 'no, it's early enough, I'll be fine' - and indeed I was right, no problem parking), I was well prepared and had the exact change ready for the car park - £3.50 (a 2 pound, 1 pound and 50 pence coin) - I didn't realise the car park machine doesn't take £2 coins (how long have they been in circulation now?). I therefore went off in search of change, queued for the pleasure and consequently missed the 6.44 train! Next train 7.11!
Richard Branson arrived smack bang on time at 7.11. I entered the train thinking about all those awful stories told by colleagues re their permanent inability to find a seat on rush hour trains. Wow, there were empty seats galore. Oooh, this isn't going to be too bad after all I thought! I sat down and the ticket collector soon appeared (in fact his badge said Mike, Train Manager). I took out my Centro envelope, smiling with glee, expecting him to praise my usually lazy self for making the effort and catching the train. Instead, he just stared at my ticket and then he stared at me (as if I was a thief!) 'Ooooh, I don't think you can use that on here!' he said. I explained that it was keep the car out of town day and this was a free pass to get me anywhere in the West Midlands, 'not on a virgin train' came his retort! The woman sitting next to me said, 'All virgin staff deny any knowledge of free offers and special passes' with a wry smile on her face. He stared at me and then back at my newly found best friend - he obviously thought the better of taking on two early morning grumpy female passengers and said, 'I'll check it out in Birmingham'. I then began to panic, well, to be honest, I never actually read any of the literature that came with the ticket. Perhaps it was only for Centro trains? I'm still not sure!
Birmingham New Street - the train arrived on time and I stumbled out of the carriage onto an extremely chaotic platform, 'is there a hurricane on the way' I thought to myself. No, it's all the people who've left their cars at home! Gosh, aren't we such good, environmentally loving souls! I then spotted the lovely Lou Chilton (without the palsy ridden Mrs Pomme)! Excellent, someone to show me the way from the station to our place of work! We then enjoyed a 10 minute brisk walk in the early morning sunshine catching up with about 6 months worth of gossip. The first bonus of the day - spending quality (albeit breathless) time, with my buddy Lou.
Arrived at the office at 8.10. The journey has taken me an hour longer than usual, but that's fine, and I'm seriously ok about the loss of an hour on my flexi time sheet!
Rumours soon shot round the office that I'd left my car at home and that I was using the train today. By mid afternoon, I was collared to help carry some things (laptop, projector, papers etc, you know, the usual light, fits in your handbag kind of stuff) to the Priory Rooms, 'as I was going that way anyway!' 'OK' I said, 'I'll help you' as Shazza Gripper Doak released my neck. We left the office at just after 4pm, to the sound of the lovely Lou Chilton shouting, 'Don't get the virgin train, its always gets cancelled!' Right, I thought, I'll listen to the voice on the intrepid train traveller. We set off into the unknown world of the early rush hour public transport commuter zone!
I reckon RSOs should have credit cards or at least their own personal tab with the local taxi firm (no, I'm not joking) - it was a killer! Me and Shazza D (and Trudi, she joined us for moral support for part of the way (bit like a support walker on a charity sponsored walk) - but then she mentioned her dodgy ankle, which made me decide not to ask her to share the load), laden down with our own usual stuff, you know, the 60lb rucksack including laptop and papers for tomorrow's meeting etc, ducking and diving the masses on the streets of Birmingham, fighting our way through so we could drop off at the Priory Rooms hoping that we still have enough time to catch our train (that's the major downside of trains - the timetable - it never works in your favour!).
We left the Priory Rooms (both of us tending to our super long arms (remember the heavy bags) sore shoulders and aching backs) and set off to catch our trains. Sharon is a member of the Snow Hill gang. I felt a little vulnerable, as this was only my 2nd visit (in 10 years!) to this particular station. We looked at the train times - she had 10 minutes to wait until hers, I, on the other hand had 45 minutes!!!! So we sat and read the free paper that was thrust in our hands as we had walked in the station. The same paper people (not made out of paper) kept trying to give us the same publication as we struggled down Colmore Row. We got quite abusive towards them in the end and started shouting obscenities like 'do you honestly think we can carry any more?' Anyway, Sharon's train arrived, she departed and left me all alone! Oh dear, where's my platform?
My train got cancelled! Cheers Lou! This was the Chiltern / Chilton train!
So I waited 15 minutes for the next one. So did all those other people who had left their cars at home today!! The train arrived, I was scared! No, seriously, I was scared. Have you ever seen soooo many people push their way onto a 3 carriage train (which the train driver later informed us through his muffled speakerphone system, should have been 4 carriages - cheers mate! Where's the logic there? Give away 1000s of free tickets for people to catch the train for ONE DAY ONLY, and then say oh yes, let's take away one of carriages on the rush hour train - that should be a laugh, let's encourage all those newly acquired travellers to leave their cars at home everyday!) Anyway, I digress, back to the stampeding hordes! The British are good at queues? Are they? NO, they are NOT! Well, not at Snow Hill station they aren't! So they we are, all 7000 of us, squeezed in onto one single train. Let the train take the strain! Yes, I really do understand their advertising slogan now. I'm amazed it managed to get out of first gear when pulling out of the station!! They obviously forgot to add, 'and let the customer feel the pain' in their campaign. And yes, oh how I felt it!
I was one of the lucky ones, or so I thought, I managed to get a seat (no, I'm not British, I didn't queue either) and I sat at one of the tables next the aisle. This aisle was amazing, I really wish Norris McWhirter had been there! I can't believe you can fit that many people into one tiny train aisle. I'm really glad I'm only a fire marshall at work, if I had a health and safety role too, I'm sure I'd have been compelled to shout EVACUATE! It's true, ignorance is bliss! Yes, of course if this train crashes we'll all get out safe and sound - I kept repeating this to myself until we got to Lapworth station.
Dorridge, however, was the highlight of my journey. People who live in Dorridge are most definitely not British. They obviously don't queue, because EVERY SINGLE person who lives in Dorridge was on my train - sitting at the tables at the back of my train carriage (yes, I own it) - they had obviously elbowed their way onto the train and grabbed all the seats at the back! And then, when we arrived at Dorridge, the Dorridge people needed to get off the train. But everyone who was standing in the aisle (which seemed like the entire Man United supporters club) had to move about and climb into the luggage rack in order to make space for the Dorridge people to get off. I observed that all of the Dorridge people and all of the aisle people obviously go to our Friday morning early yoga sessions! They were seriously impressive in their movements! It's true, travelling by train does make you fitter, it certainly makes you supple!
Lapworth Station - there was a mass exodus here - it was at this point everyone's lips started to return back to their normal colour - we could all breath again. I reckon that most of the people that got off the train here, didn't actually live in Lapworth, they just realised if they didn't get off, they wouldn't make it home - EVER!
Arrived at Warwick Parkway Station - it was at this point I seriously wished I'd driven here and not to Leamington first thing this morning.
2 stations later and I'm back at my car! In one piece too! This is a true miracle - I had survived Centros run the gauntlet challenge! Trust me, I've walked 2 of the UK's highest peaks - Snowdon and Scafell Pike - they were easier than the Centro Challenge. I got home at 6.30pm.
We're on week 3 of our dry month (ie no alcohol during the week), but right now, as soon as I have sent this email, I'm going to DRIVE to the shop and get a bottle of wine!!
Please feel free to pass this on to Centro, I'm more than happy to be a case study in their attempt to get more people on the train! : )
PS, Guess who's got to get the train to London tomorrow? :-(
Have a great weekend
See you Monday
Michelle
-----Original Message-----
From: Michelle
Sent: Thu 22/09/2005 9:36 PM
To: ALL STAFF
Subject: In town without my car!
This email has absolutely nothing at all to do with work, it's also incredibly long (approx 3 A4 pages worth) - it's about my experience of 'in town without my car day'. Please feel free to delete this before reading another line, UNLESS you happen to work on transport issues, or you like to hear of other peoples trauma or your name happens to be FRAN!
Fran's recent email (about leave your car at home - get a free train pass into work on Tuesday 22 September (a date I will NEVER forget)) managed to set off the old guilt chip in my head! After all, I do a considerable amount of miles in the car, I am now seriously unfit and although I do a fair amount of recycling at home, I know I could be a lot 'greener' so to speak. So, I decided to take up CENTROs very kind offer of a free ticket and catch the train on 'in town without my car day'. I completed the online application for the free travel card! It arrived last week - I felt pretty proud of myself, being so brave and bold to leave the car at home and doing something for the environment and all that!
I had every intention of leaving the car at home today, in order to carry out my complete journey on public transport, however the first bus doesn't venture near our village until 7.30! I therefore left home in plenty of time to catch the 6.44 train from sunny Leamington Spa (I did think about going to Warwick Parkway, because there's more parking, but I thought, 'no, it's early enough, I'll be fine' - and indeed I was right, no problem parking), I was well prepared and had the exact change ready for the car park - £3.50 (a 2 pound, 1 pound and 50 pence coin) - I didn't realise the car park machine doesn't take £2 coins (how long have they been in circulation now?). I therefore went off in search of change, queued for the pleasure and consequently missed the 6.44 train! Next train 7.11!
Richard Branson arrived smack bang on time at 7.11. I entered the train thinking about all those awful stories told by colleagues re their permanent inability to find a seat on rush hour trains. Wow, there were empty seats galore. Oooh, this isn't going to be too bad after all I thought! I sat down and the ticket collector soon appeared (in fact his badge said Mike, Train Manager). I took out my Centro envelope, smiling with glee, expecting him to praise my usually lazy self for making the effort and catching the train. Instead, he just stared at my ticket and then he stared at me (as if I was a thief!) 'Ooooh, I don't think you can use that on here!' he said. I explained that it was keep the car out of town day and this was a free pass to get me anywhere in the West Midlands, 'not on a virgin train' came his retort! The woman sitting next to me said, 'All virgin staff deny any knowledge of free offers and special passes' with a wry smile on her face. He stared at me and then back at my newly found best friend - he obviously thought the better of taking on two early morning grumpy female passengers and said, 'I'll check it out in Birmingham'. I then began to panic, well, to be honest, I never actually read any of the literature that came with the ticket. Perhaps it was only for Centro trains? I'm still not sure!
Birmingham New Street - the train arrived on time and I stumbled out of the carriage onto an extremely chaotic platform, 'is there a hurricane on the way' I thought to myself. No, it's all the people who've left their cars at home! Gosh, aren't we such good, environmentally loving souls! I then spotted the lovely Lou Chilton (without the palsy ridden Mrs Pomme)! Excellent, someone to show me the way from the station to our place of work! We then enjoyed a 10 minute brisk walk in the early morning sunshine catching up with about 6 months worth of gossip. The first bonus of the day - spending quality (albeit breathless) time, with my buddy Lou.
Arrived at the office at 8.10. The journey has taken me an hour longer than usual, but that's fine, and I'm seriously ok about the loss of an hour on my flexi time sheet!
Rumours soon shot round the office that I'd left my car at home and that I was using the train today. By mid afternoon, I was collared to help carry some things (laptop, projector, papers etc, you know, the usual light, fits in your handbag kind of stuff) to the Priory Rooms, 'as I was going that way anyway!' 'OK' I said, 'I'll help you' as Shazza Gripper Doak released my neck. We left the office at just after 4pm, to the sound of the lovely Lou Chilton shouting, 'Don't get the virgin train, its always gets cancelled!' Right, I thought, I'll listen to the voice on the intrepid train traveller. We set off into the unknown world of the early rush hour public transport commuter zone!
I reckon RSOs should have credit cards or at least their own personal tab with the local taxi firm (no, I'm not joking) - it was a killer! Me and Shazza D (and Trudi, she joined us for moral support for part of the way (bit like a support walker on a charity sponsored walk) - but then she mentioned her dodgy ankle, which made me decide not to ask her to share the load), laden down with our own usual stuff, you know, the 60lb rucksack including laptop and papers for tomorrow's meeting etc, ducking and diving the masses on the streets of Birmingham, fighting our way through so we could drop off at the Priory Rooms hoping that we still have enough time to catch our train (that's the major downside of trains - the timetable - it never works in your favour!).
We left the Priory Rooms (both of us tending to our super long arms (remember the heavy bags) sore shoulders and aching backs) and set off to catch our trains. Sharon is a member of the Snow Hill gang. I felt a little vulnerable, as this was only my 2nd visit (in 10 years!) to this particular station. We looked at the train times - she had 10 minutes to wait until hers, I, on the other hand had 45 minutes!!!! So we sat and read the free paper that was thrust in our hands as we had walked in the station. The same paper people (not made out of paper) kept trying to give us the same publication as we struggled down Colmore Row. We got quite abusive towards them in the end and started shouting obscenities like 'do you honestly think we can carry any more?' Anyway, Sharon's train arrived, she departed and left me all alone! Oh dear, where's my platform?
My train got cancelled! Cheers Lou! This was the Chiltern / Chilton train!
So I waited 15 minutes for the next one. So did all those other people who had left their cars at home today!! The train arrived, I was scared! No, seriously, I was scared. Have you ever seen soooo many people push their way onto a 3 carriage train (which the train driver later informed us through his muffled speakerphone system, should have been 4 carriages - cheers mate! Where's the logic there? Give away 1000s of free tickets for people to catch the train for ONE DAY ONLY, and then say oh yes, let's take away one of carriages on the rush hour train - that should be a laugh, let's encourage all those newly acquired travellers to leave their cars at home everyday!) Anyway, I digress, back to the stampeding hordes! The British are good at queues? Are they? NO, they are NOT! Well, not at Snow Hill station they aren't! So they we are, all 7000 of us, squeezed in onto one single train. Let the train take the strain! Yes, I really do understand their advertising slogan now. I'm amazed it managed to get out of first gear when pulling out of the station!! They obviously forgot to add, 'and let the customer feel the pain' in their campaign. And yes, oh how I felt it!
I was one of the lucky ones, or so I thought, I managed to get a seat (no, I'm not British, I didn't queue either) and I sat at one of the tables next the aisle. This aisle was amazing, I really wish Norris McWhirter had been there! I can't believe you can fit that many people into one tiny train aisle. I'm really glad I'm only a fire marshall at work, if I had a health and safety role too, I'm sure I'd have been compelled to shout EVACUATE! It's true, ignorance is bliss! Yes, of course if this train crashes we'll all get out safe and sound - I kept repeating this to myself until we got to Lapworth station.
Dorridge, however, was the highlight of my journey. People who live in Dorridge are most definitely not British. They obviously don't queue, because EVERY SINGLE person who lives in Dorridge was on my train - sitting at the tables at the back of my train carriage (yes, I own it) - they had obviously elbowed their way onto the train and grabbed all the seats at the back! And then, when we arrived at Dorridge, the Dorridge people needed to get off the train. But everyone who was standing in the aisle (which seemed like the entire Man United supporters club) had to move about and climb into the luggage rack in order to make space for the Dorridge people to get off. I observed that all of the Dorridge people and all of the aisle people obviously go to our Friday morning early yoga sessions! They were seriously impressive in their movements! It's true, travelling by train does make you fitter, it certainly makes you supple!
Lapworth Station - there was a mass exodus here - it was at this point everyone's lips started to return back to their normal colour - we could all breath again. I reckon that most of the people that got off the train here, didn't actually live in Lapworth, they just realised if they didn't get off, they wouldn't make it home - EVER!
Arrived at Warwick Parkway Station - it was at this point I seriously wished I'd driven here and not to Leamington first thing this morning.
2 stations later and I'm back at my car! In one piece too! This is a true miracle - I had survived Centros run the gauntlet challenge! Trust me, I've walked 2 of the UK's highest peaks - Snowdon and Scafell Pike - they were easier than the Centro Challenge. I got home at 6.30pm.
We're on week 3 of our dry month (ie no alcohol during the week), but right now, as soon as I have sent this email, I'm going to DRIVE to the shop and get a bottle of wine!!
Please feel free to pass this on to Centro, I'm more than happy to be a case study in their attempt to get more people on the train! : )
PS, Guess who's got to get the train to London tomorrow? :-(
Have a great weekend
See you Monday
Michelle
There's nowt stranger than folk - or possibly our friends!
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Just looking through some photos and came across these which brought a wry smile across my face. Friends and family - hmmmm, they come in all variations!!
Ninja Daughter - well to be fair it was very cold up in them there hills (or Lakes)
'Have you seen my party trick?' - Lou after a 'couple'
Oh, here's to the simple things in life (bygones you two!)
Our good friends Billy Ray and Billy Bob!
Guess the musical?
Too much alcohol is not big and it's not clever.
(should not have taught the darn dog how to open a bottle of wine!)
Just looking through some photos and came across these which brought a wry smile across my face. Friends and family - hmmmm, they come in all variations!!
Ninja Daughter - well to be fair it was very cold up in them there hills (or Lakes)
'Have you seen my party trick?' - Lou after a 'couple'
Oh, here's to the simple things in life (bygones you two!)
Our good friends Billy Ray and Billy Bob!
Guess the musical?
Too much alcohol is not big and it's not clever.
(should not have taught the darn dog how to open a bottle of wine!)
Saturday morning sleepathon
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Saturday morning is a morning of sleep. Unless we're going somewhere, or having friends to stay (we live miles from our friends and family so our house becomes a bit like a weekend B&B for said people) Saturday morning is a catch up on your zzzzzzzzzzzz's session. And I'm very good at my zzzzzzzzzz's. In fact, if there was an olympic medal for sleeping abilities, I'd win it hands down - every year! It truly is a perfected art of mine.
Anyway, I was looking forward to my Saturday sleep in. Ideally, I would have got up at 10am and having gone to bed at 10pm last night, this would have completed my regular 12 hour Friday night / Saturday morning sleepathon! Unfortunately for me, someone in our village decided that they'd already had enough sleep and by 7am was merrily working away with some power tool! God, some people are sick - fancy being up and about, working away at that time on a Saturday morning - have they no shame!!
The noise woke up Hubby first, he started chuntering away and then got up and closed the bedroom window (regardless of the weather and sub zero chill factor, hubby HAS to sleep with the window open. He therefore shouldn't complain about the depth and million rating tog factor of the duvet I had to buy in order to keep me warm). Hubby, being mr early bird, got up and cheerfully went downstairs. And being so good at my art, I fell straight back to sleep. Mmmmm, heaven - Saturday morning sleep in!
8.45am and someone is banging at our front door! WHAT!!!! Then is went again, bang bang bang. We have a big 'whackoff', heavy, big, massive, big, heavy door knocker! Ok, possible slight exaggeration there. But when it knocks, it's seems incredibly - especially when you're in bed and trying to sleep - loud! I foolishly thought, 'well Hubby is up, he'll get it' - in fact it was hubby banging the door! He then opens the letter box and starts calling me. The dog thinks this is all great fun - 'Dad's got a new game for us the play kind of thing!! I stagger down the stairs and let him in. He's standing there cheerily grinning away and tells me he thought he'd got his keys in his pocket - but he hadn't!
Hubby has now gone on the 'chick run' - he's a volunteer and once every couple of months, has to pick up a few old dears from their nursing home and take them to the local supermarket. He says it gives him 'quality reading time' - he gets to sit in the car reading his beloved newspaper, while they shop. He then drops them back home an hour or so later. He initially got kind of conned in to this role (a request to do it once only, to cover for someone who was away), but now actually enjoys it - i reckon, once he's done it, it gives him that 'i've been a good person feeling' - a bit like when you've taken 6 months worth of bottles (and yes, we have a few!!!), tins, cardboard, plastic etc to the council recycling centre!
Anyway, I've given up on my sleepathon today. I got up and did some heavenly chores instead!
Saturday morning is a morning of sleep. Unless we're going somewhere, or having friends to stay (we live miles from our friends and family so our house becomes a bit like a weekend B&B for said people) Saturday morning is a catch up on your zzzzzzzzzzzz's session. And I'm very good at my zzzzzzzzzz's. In fact, if there was an olympic medal for sleeping abilities, I'd win it hands down - every year! It truly is a perfected art of mine.
Anyway, I was looking forward to my Saturday sleep in. Ideally, I would have got up at 10am and having gone to bed at 10pm last night, this would have completed my regular 12 hour Friday night / Saturday morning sleepathon! Unfortunately for me, someone in our village decided that they'd already had enough sleep and by 7am was merrily working away with some power tool! God, some people are sick - fancy being up and about, working away at that time on a Saturday morning - have they no shame!!
The noise woke up Hubby first, he started chuntering away and then got up and closed the bedroom window (regardless of the weather and sub zero chill factor, hubby HAS to sleep with the window open. He therefore shouldn't complain about the depth and million rating tog factor of the duvet I had to buy in order to keep me warm). Hubby, being mr early bird, got up and cheerfully went downstairs. And being so good at my art, I fell straight back to sleep. Mmmmm, heaven - Saturday morning sleep in!
8.45am and someone is banging at our front door! WHAT!!!! Then is went again, bang bang bang. We have a big 'whackoff', heavy, big, massive, big, heavy door knocker! Ok, possible slight exaggeration there. But when it knocks, it's seems incredibly - especially when you're in bed and trying to sleep - loud! I foolishly thought, 'well Hubby is up, he'll get it' - in fact it was hubby banging the door! He then opens the letter box and starts calling me. The dog thinks this is all great fun - 'Dad's got a new game for us the play kind of thing!! I stagger down the stairs and let him in. He's standing there cheerily grinning away and tells me he thought he'd got his keys in his pocket - but he hadn't!
Hubby has now gone on the 'chick run' - he's a volunteer and once every couple of months, has to pick up a few old dears from their nursing home and take them to the local supermarket. He says it gives him 'quality reading time' - he gets to sit in the car reading his beloved newspaper, while they shop. He then drops them back home an hour or so later. He initially got kind of conned in to this role (a request to do it once only, to cover for someone who was away), but now actually enjoys it - i reckon, once he's done it, it gives him that 'i've been a good person feeling' - a bit like when you've taken 6 months worth of bottles (and yes, we have a few!!!), tins, cardboard, plastic etc to the council recycling centre!
Anyway, I've given up on my sleepathon today. I got up and did some heavenly chores instead!
Labels:
duvet,
noisy neighbours,
olympic medal,
power tools,
recycling,
sleep
Thursday, 22 February 2007
Parents Holiday On Holiday
Last night, I received a text from my parents who are currently sunning themselves on a 3 month trip to Spain. It read, 'booked train 2 corboda and 3 nite in hotel - bit of a holiday xx' - bloody hell, they are having a mini break on their holiday!
Can't wait until I retire!
Can't wait until I retire!
Labels:
holiday,
mini break,
parents,
Retired
Remote Controls and TV Viewing - Is This A Male Thing?
I reckon my hubby and I, very much have a 50/50 input into our relationship - I really don't see one of us as the dominant partner (ok, if I'm honest, it probably is me that wears the 'longer' trousers most of the time, but hubby is Mr Very Laid back 99.9% of the time and only puts his sizes 11s down when he REALLY doesn't agree with what I want to do). However, when it comes to watching the TV and DVDs I feel that I'm sold very short within my own house!!
In the lounge there are 3 remote controls - TV, DVD and Freeview (although, according to the Freeview 'people' we don't officially live in a Freeview receptive area - we cheated and found out that if the weather is good, we do get an ok picture quality). All 3 controls sit next to (or in the pocket) of said hubby. Why?
I'm not into the soaps - unless there is nothing else to watch, I enjoy sci-fi, am more than happy to watch CSI blah de blah de blah. All the usual programmes that men enjoy. Hubby is lucky really, he could have ended up with a soap freak - does he understand how lucky he really is when it comes to wifey on the TV 'front'?
Anyway, hubby will not let go of those remotes. It's like his heart will stop beating if they move more than 5cms from him!?
Said hubby also gets to pick DVDs that we watch - he's recently bought (actually I bought them for him from ebay (because I had an ape s**t fit at him one day and then felt v guilty about hormonal wifey state, and then i needed to appease myself of the guilt and therefore had to lavish him with presents) before my account was suspended - see blog entry below) series 1 and 2 of Babylon 5. Each night over the last couple of weeks, we've had to watch G'Kar, Mollari, Garibaldi (go, biscuit), Delenn et al, with far too much frequency for my liking.
I recently bought the series box sets of Will and Grace and Ally McBeal - the only time I get to watch these are when hubby is at Rotary or playing in the computer room or at the kitchen table doing his 'hunt and peck' routine on his laptop keyboard.
Tonight we are currently watching yet another Babylon 5!!
Why??? Can anyone help me on this matter? I've no idea how he ie hubby got to 'top trump' status on the TV / DVD front!!!
Yours, confused of middle England
In the lounge there are 3 remote controls - TV, DVD and Freeview (although, according to the Freeview 'people' we don't officially live in a Freeview receptive area - we cheated and found out that if the weather is good, we do get an ok picture quality). All 3 controls sit next to (or in the pocket) of said hubby. Why?
I'm not into the soaps - unless there is nothing else to watch, I enjoy sci-fi, am more than happy to watch CSI blah de blah de blah. All the usual programmes that men enjoy. Hubby is lucky really, he could have ended up with a soap freak - does he understand how lucky he really is when it comes to wifey on the TV 'front'?
Anyway, hubby will not let go of those remotes. It's like his heart will stop beating if they move more than 5cms from him!?
Said hubby also gets to pick DVDs that we watch - he's recently bought (actually I bought them for him from ebay (because I had an ape s**t fit at him one day and then felt v guilty about hormonal wifey state, and then i needed to appease myself of the guilt and therefore had to lavish him with presents) before my account was suspended - see blog entry below) series 1 and 2 of Babylon 5. Each night over the last couple of weeks, we've had to watch G'Kar, Mollari, Garibaldi (go, biscuit), Delenn et al, with far too much frequency for my liking.
I recently bought the series box sets of Will and Grace and Ally McBeal - the only time I get to watch these are when hubby is at Rotary or playing in the computer room or at the kitchen table doing his 'hunt and peck' routine on his laptop keyboard.
Tonight we are currently watching yet another Babylon 5!!
Why??? Can anyone help me on this matter? I've no idea how he ie hubby got to 'top trump' status on the TV / DVD front!!!
Yours, confused of middle England
Labels:
male v female,
remote control ownership,
TV viewing
He Just Doesn't Get It!! Fair Trade Coffee
I've just got back from Tescos, something I hate doing (driving 10 miles to the supermarket, battling with grumpy shoppers and their crazy wheeled trollies, loading goods onto the check out, packing into bags, loading into the car, driving 10 miles back home, unloading from the car and then putting it all away - the £5.99 Tesco delivery fee is worth every single penny), however, due to the lack of my organisational skills, coupled with the limited supply of tea bags, necessitated an emergency trip to the supermarket.
I get home and hubby is sat at the kitchen table playing 'hunt and peck,' banging away on the keyboard of his laptop, prepping for some big presentation tomorrow. He sees the 'I've had a traumatic shopping trip' look in my eye and decides to help me unpack.
He picks up a pack of fair trade coffee, reads it, turns back to me and says, "I don't know why you buy this, it doesn't taste any different from the other stuff!"
He just doesn't get it!
I get home and hubby is sat at the kitchen table playing 'hunt and peck,' banging away on the keyboard of his laptop, prepping for some big presentation tomorrow. He sees the 'I've had a traumatic shopping trip' look in my eye and decides to help me unpack.
He picks up a pack of fair trade coffee, reads it, turns back to me and says, "I don't know why you buy this, it doesn't taste any different from the other stuff!"
He just doesn't get it!
Labels:
fair trade coffee,
husband,
shopping trip,
supermarket
Return of the Driving Instructor
Yay! My daughter's driving instructor did return today! She's now completed her second driving lesson! I'm impressed - with the driving instructor that is - 1 1/2 hours locked in the car with my daughter chatting away aimlessly, taking no notice of what he says, yet voicing an opinion about why all the other drivers are useless, is well, is nothing short of a miracle!
Well done Steve the driving instructor, you're more of a man than.... well, you know what I mean.
Well done Steve the driving instructor, you're more of a man than.... well, you know what I mean.
Labels:
daughter,
driving lessons,
learning to drive,
teenager
Retired Parents in Spain and their Beloved Balcony !!!
For the last 6 years, between the months of January and March, my parents have jetted off to the warmer climes of Nerja in sunny Spain. They go just after the Christmas holiday and return for the onset of Spring. “It’s too cold and depressing to stay in the UK during these months,” my Mom frequently tells me. Yeah, that cheers me up Mother, knowing I have to stay here with this miserable British winter weather. Thanks for that!
Now I’m not saying my Dad is financially challenged but if I tell you he describes himself as ‘careful’ with money, I think you’ll get ‘my drift’. He doesn’t really like paying for holidays and I’m sure he only agrees to go away because my Mom would make his life insufferable if he didn’t. However by going away for 3 months (usually the 3 coldest months of the year) he gets to switch the central heating off while they are away!!! Their kindly neighbour, who house watches while they are away, then spends the next 3 months, doing ‘run the house / gauntlet challenge’. She is petrified to leave the village and spends her time dashing round to my parent’s house every time she hears the weather man mention the word ‘freezing’. She puts the heating on “just in case the pipes burst”. Upon their return, Dad can never quite understand why the gas bill isn’t as low as he thought it would be!!
I digress. Each year, when they get back my Father moans about the amount of money they have spent on their mobile phone. I think I’ve got to the bottom of their incredibly high mobile phone charges……….
Everyday, when the weather is good, which is the case, most days in Nerja, they get to sit on the balcony of their apartment which overlooks the sea, and they eat and drink and generally watch the world go by. Every time, and I do not exaggerate this, every time they sit down on the balcony, they send me a text saying, ‘weather fab, having breakfast / lunch / dinner / supper / drinks on the balcony. Wish you were here’. They’re about half way through their holiday now and last night, I again, received a text, telling me about the balcony. Then my phone bleeped, telling me my phone memory was nearly full and I needed to clear out some texts! Never! 130 texts were in my in-boX!!!! 120 of them were from my parents telling me about the balcony!!! It’s always the same text message – they must have worked out how to do a ‘Nokia balcony template’.
Last week, my sister went out to see them, spend some time with them and catch some Spanish rays. The day before she left I spoke to her on the phone and said, “just please don’t send me a text, telling me about the balcony!” She assured me, she had no intention of sending such texts. It must be something in the water or the sangria – she too is now texting me, telling me all about the balcony!!!!
When they get back home, the camcorder will be brought out – if it’s anything like last year, it’ll be 6 hours footage of the sea and the road by their apartment. All shots will have been taken from......................... yes, you’ve guessed it - from the balcony!!!!
I can’t wait until I’m retired!
Now I’m not saying my Dad is financially challenged but if I tell you he describes himself as ‘careful’ with money, I think you’ll get ‘my drift’. He doesn’t really like paying for holidays and I’m sure he only agrees to go away because my Mom would make his life insufferable if he didn’t. However by going away for 3 months (usually the 3 coldest months of the year) he gets to switch the central heating off while they are away!!! Their kindly neighbour, who house watches while they are away, then spends the next 3 months, doing ‘run the house / gauntlet challenge’. She is petrified to leave the village and spends her time dashing round to my parent’s house every time she hears the weather man mention the word ‘freezing’. She puts the heating on “just in case the pipes burst”. Upon their return, Dad can never quite understand why the gas bill isn’t as low as he thought it would be!!
I digress. Each year, when they get back my Father moans about the amount of money they have spent on their mobile phone. I think I’ve got to the bottom of their incredibly high mobile phone charges……….
Everyday, when the weather is good, which is the case, most days in Nerja, they get to sit on the balcony of their apartment which overlooks the sea, and they eat and drink and generally watch the world go by. Every time, and I do not exaggerate this, every time they sit down on the balcony, they send me a text saying, ‘weather fab, having breakfast / lunch / dinner / supper / drinks on the balcony. Wish you were here’. They’re about half way through their holiday now and last night, I again, received a text, telling me about the balcony. Then my phone bleeped, telling me my phone memory was nearly full and I needed to clear out some texts! Never! 130 texts were in my in-boX!!!! 120 of them were from my parents telling me about the balcony!!! It’s always the same text message – they must have worked out how to do a ‘Nokia balcony template’.
Last week, my sister went out to see them, spend some time with them and catch some Spanish rays. The day before she left I spoke to her on the phone and said, “just please don’t send me a text, telling me about the balcony!” She assured me, she had no intention of sending such texts. It must be something in the water or the sangria – she too is now texting me, telling me all about the balcony!!!!
When they get back home, the camcorder will be brought out – if it’s anything like last year, it’ll be 6 hours footage of the sea and the road by their apartment. All shots will have been taken from......................... yes, you’ve guessed it - from the balcony!!!!
I can’t wait until I’m retired!
You're Dumped
This is just awful! The girlfriend cheated on the boyfriend and got dumped on live radio - talk about public humiliation.
How can people be so cruel?!*
Speechless or priceless? http://www.b3ta.com/links/You_re_Dumped
Labels:
cheating girlfriend,
dumped,
engagement ring,
local radio
No Tea Bags!
OMG we've run out of PG tea bags!!
This has never happened in our house before, I must be slacking on wifey / motherly duties. I now have the option of having a mug of hubby's Assam or wait an hour until the shop opens! I think I'm going to have to wait - I can't quite get my head, or taste buds, around the Assam!
I can't function properly in the morning until I've had at least 2 mugs of tea. Should I go back to bed for an hour?
This has never happened in our house before, I must be slacking on wifey / motherly duties. I now have the option of having a mug of hubby's Assam or wait an hour until the shop opens! I think I'm going to have to wait - I can't quite get my head, or taste buds, around the Assam!
I can't function properly in the morning until I've had at least 2 mugs of tea. Should I go back to bed for an hour?
House of Tartan
We went to a good friend's memorial service yesterday. It was the most amazing service, for the most amazing person I have ever met, and a number of people there were wearing kilts.
Driving home from the service, my husband mentioned the kilts. He informed me, at the last couple of funerals we have been to, plus this year's Burns night at his local Rotary club, people have been wearing kilts. Something, that certainly has never hit my radar but has hit upon my hubby's like a nuclear programmed missile!!
For a day and a half my husband has been locked away in the computer room!?
Unless nagged by my good self, Hubby never rings his mother, and tonight he rang her. I heard him ask if he has any Scottish roots? I thought, 'what on earth is this man talking about?' - the word kilt then appeared in the conversation!!
According to hubby, he is linked to the Scottish Pringle family - they may produce some fantastic jumpers, but they don't actually have a kilt pattern.
I, on the other hand, have very Scottish roots - my Gran - a Campbel! Apparently the Campbel Clan has many patterns that come in a variety of weave options. I took on his surname when we got married (in reality, i actually kept my own - work name, passport, bank details etc) and he now has decided to take on my family's tartan!!!
He is currently scrolling through www.houseoftartan.com trying to work out a way of his family being linked to the patterns he most prefers!!
I worry! : )
Driving home from the service, my husband mentioned the kilts. He informed me, at the last couple of funerals we have been to, plus this year's Burns night at his local Rotary club, people have been wearing kilts. Something, that certainly has never hit my radar but has hit upon my hubby's like a nuclear programmed missile!!
For a day and a half my husband has been locked away in the computer room!?
Unless nagged by my good self, Hubby never rings his mother, and tonight he rang her. I heard him ask if he has any Scottish roots? I thought, 'what on earth is this man talking about?' - the word kilt then appeared in the conversation!!
According to hubby, he is linked to the Scottish Pringle family - they may produce some fantastic jumpers, but they don't actually have a kilt pattern.
I, on the other hand, have very Scottish roots - my Gran - a Campbel! Apparently the Campbel Clan has many patterns that come in a variety of weave options. I took on his surname when we got married (in reality, i actually kept my own - work name, passport, bank details etc) and he now has decided to take on my family's tartan!!!
He is currently scrolling through www.houseoftartan.com trying to work out a way of his family being linked to the patterns he most prefers!!
I worry! : )
Daughter's First Driving Lesson
My daughter turned 17 last week!! Arrgggh, I feel old.
We live in a village approx 10 miles from the closest town. Learning to drive is a big thing for my daughter - she knows i'm not going to keep driving into and out of town on a Friday and Saturday night when she starts clubbing!!
A few weeks before her 17th birthday her driving licence arrived. The pressure was on to book the driving lessons! Oh dear!! I went through the Yellow Pages, spoke to friends and scoured the village magazine for driving instructors. I rang a few, requesting details about first time pass rates, hourly rates, car sizes (i don't want my daughter to learn to drive in a small car, to forever moan about big cars later on) etc. I finally came across the poor guy who I decided was going to teach my daughter to drive. I had a lengthy conversation with 'Steve' - my final words, after booking a block session of 12 one and a half hour sessions were, "Well, ok, many thanks, i can only wish you the very very best of luck with my daughter. If she does your head in or refuses to listen to you - i'm sorry, but it's your problem. Good luck" - he laughed, thinking i was joking. Oooh, if only he knew!! : )
Daughter had her first half and half lesson last Thursday. The instructor droppped her off in time, I then heard the sound of a car wheel spinning away.............!
Can't wait to see if he comes back next Wednesday for the 2nd lesson.
We live in a village approx 10 miles from the closest town. Learning to drive is a big thing for my daughter - she knows i'm not going to keep driving into and out of town on a Friday and Saturday night when she starts clubbing!!
A few weeks before her 17th birthday her driving licence arrived. The pressure was on to book the driving lessons! Oh dear!! I went through the Yellow Pages, spoke to friends and scoured the village magazine for driving instructors. I rang a few, requesting details about first time pass rates, hourly rates, car sizes (i don't want my daughter to learn to drive in a small car, to forever moan about big cars later on) etc. I finally came across the poor guy who I decided was going to teach my daughter to drive. I had a lengthy conversation with 'Steve' - my final words, after booking a block session of 12 one and a half hour sessions were, "Well, ok, many thanks, i can only wish you the very very best of luck with my daughter. If she does your head in or refuses to listen to you - i'm sorry, but it's your problem. Good luck" - he laughed, thinking i was joking. Oooh, if only he knew!! : )
Daughter had her first half and half lesson last Thursday. The instructor droppped her off in time, I then heard the sound of a car wheel spinning away.............!
Can't wait to see if he comes back next Wednesday for the 2nd lesson.
Labels:
driving lessons,
rural,
teenagers,
yellow pages
Ebay and Teenagers
The other morning I logged on to my email account only to receive a message from ebay saying that my account has been suspended! I immediately thought, this is a spoof email, so I logged on to my ebay account through the browser. When I logged on, I was indeed informed my account had been suspended!! Shock, horror, how could this be? I have 48 purchases on ebay, and, without exception, pay for all goods immediately and therefore enjoy (deservedly too) a 100% positive feedback rating.
When I looked into the suspended account in more detail, I was informed that my account email address was linked to that of my daughter's ebay account? Unfortunately, my daughter isn't as diligent as me and has a miserable ebay rating and had "forgot" to pay for a number of items!! Because I sometimes pay for her goods via my paypal account, our ebay accounts are, according to ebay recods, 'linked'. ebay decided to suspend her account and because my account is linked to hers via my email address, in their wisdom, they have also suspended my account too! Cheeers Daughter!!!
Have you ever tried to get through to ebay - it's like mission impossible. Seriously!! Regardless of whatever I tell them (on numeerous occassions), they state that myself and my daughter are one and the same person!!! Oh, to be a teenager again!!!
I am usually like a dog with a bone and don't give up on 'a point of principle' - however, with ebay, i've simply decided to give in. They refuse to acknowledge any points of argument or reason. I think their customer services department responses are automated - you get a response, but there's no content of worth (or sense)!
Moral of the story, never share or link any financial information / accounts to a teenage daughter who really doesn't give a stuff about her virtual credit rating!!!
When I looked into the suspended account in more detail, I was informed that my account email address was linked to that of my daughter's ebay account? Unfortunately, my daughter isn't as diligent as me and has a miserable ebay rating and had "forgot" to pay for a number of items!! Because I sometimes pay for her goods via my paypal account, our ebay accounts are, according to ebay recods, 'linked'. ebay decided to suspend her account and because my account is linked to hers via my email address, in their wisdom, they have also suspended my account too! Cheeers Daughter!!!
Have you ever tried to get through to ebay - it's like mission impossible. Seriously!! Regardless of whatever I tell them (on numeerous occassions), they state that myself and my daughter are one and the same person!!! Oh, to be a teenager again!!!
I am usually like a dog with a bone and don't give up on 'a point of principle' - however, with ebay, i've simply decided to give in. They refuse to acknowledge any points of argument or reason. I think their customer services department responses are automated - you get a response, but there's no content of worth (or sense)!
Moral of the story, never share or link any financial information / accounts to a teenage daughter who really doesn't give a stuff about her virtual credit rating!!!
Work Life Balance - The Home Based Worker and Day Time TV
Fern and Phillip, Ophera (is that how you spell it?), Cash in the Attic - yes, that's me, as a home based worker, that's what I get to do all day long, just watch day time TV. The thought of ever doing any work never even enters my head. It's an easy life and brings along very easy money!
I know that's what you're thinking, because that's what everyone thinks when I tell them I'm home based! Right? Actually, you're wrong, you are so far from the truth you just wouldn't believe it.
Until January 8 2007, my day started at 5.15am! We got up at such an horrendous time, because my balmy husband has worked for the last 7 year in Working, Surrey and undertook just over a 200 mile round trip each day! He can sometimes bit a little anal, and during the 7 years of doing this journey, he discovered how many miles were between each junction on the motorway and knew, including the various traffic flow speeds, TO THE MINUTE, how long it would take him to get home! Yes, you're right, I did begin to worry when he shared this fact with me.
Hubby recently saw the light and decided he wanted more of a work life balance and therefore got a job MUCH MUCH closer to home. Excellent, I thought when he told me the good news. My immediate response was to ask what time the alarm would go off each morning, once he started his new job, 'yes, that's the best part about it, we don't have to get up until 5.45am!' Hmmm, not quite what I had in mind, but psychologically, it does sound much better if you say, quarter to six, instead of quarter past five. Well, if it doesn't sound it to you, it definitely feels much much better to us. To Mr Average, it still sounds ridiculous, but to us, it sounds like a major improvement. The additional bonus to hubby working 'closer to home' is that we now get to go to bed at a proper adult time - instead of going to bed at 10pm, we are really going wild and now go and 10.30! Fantastic!
So, each morning the alarm goes off, I stagger downstairs to make hubby a cup of tea and now we have the luxury of the later start, David also finds himself with a piece of toast thrust into his hands as he enters the kitchen at 6am each morning. We really know how live life to the full don't we! : )
I digress, this is supposed to be about home based workers. Hubby departs for work and I shuffle into the computer room to start work at 6.15 each morning. For all you office based workers, I bet your alarm still hasn't gone off by then, so please don't tell me, we have it easy.
Anyway, I usually plod away working until either my hubby or daughter come home at around 6pm and then dinner commences! I'll fill you in more in later blogs.
And before any of you ask, why am I loading this onto my blog at 4.10 on a Monday afternoon - I'm on leave today! : )
I know that's what you're thinking, because that's what everyone thinks when I tell them I'm home based! Right? Actually, you're wrong, you are so far from the truth you just wouldn't believe it.
Until January 8 2007, my day started at 5.15am! We got up at such an horrendous time, because my balmy husband has worked for the last 7 year in Working, Surrey and undertook just over a 200 mile round trip each day! He can sometimes bit a little anal, and during the 7 years of doing this journey, he discovered how many miles were between each junction on the motorway and knew, including the various traffic flow speeds, TO THE MINUTE, how long it would take him to get home! Yes, you're right, I did begin to worry when he shared this fact with me.
Hubby recently saw the light and decided he wanted more of a work life balance and therefore got a job MUCH MUCH closer to home. Excellent, I thought when he told me the good news. My immediate response was to ask what time the alarm would go off each morning, once he started his new job, 'yes, that's the best part about it, we don't have to get up until 5.45am!' Hmmm, not quite what I had in mind, but psychologically, it does sound much better if you say, quarter to six, instead of quarter past five. Well, if it doesn't sound it to you, it definitely feels much much better to us. To Mr Average, it still sounds ridiculous, but to us, it sounds like a major improvement. The additional bonus to hubby working 'closer to home' is that we now get to go to bed at a proper adult time - instead of going to bed at 10pm, we are really going wild and now go and 10.30! Fantastic!
So, each morning the alarm goes off, I stagger downstairs to make hubby a cup of tea and now we have the luxury of the later start, David also finds himself with a piece of toast thrust into his hands as he enters the kitchen at 6am each morning. We really know how live life to the full don't we! : )
I digress, this is supposed to be about home based workers. Hubby departs for work and I shuffle into the computer room to start work at 6.15 each morning. For all you office based workers, I bet your alarm still hasn't gone off by then, so please don't tell me, we have it easy.
Anyway, I usually plod away working until either my hubby or daughter come home at around 6pm and then dinner commences! I'll fill you in more in later blogs.
And before any of you ask, why am I loading this onto my blog at 4.10 on a Monday afternoon - I'm on leave today! : )
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