Well of course NOW it works...

Thanks Silas!

Legacy

I've just rediscovered Mansun - no, not Marilyn Manson - but the wonderful popular beat combo from the late 90s who made some really rather excellent records. I have, happily, managed to find one of my all-time fave songs/videos on You Tube. Watch it, quick, before it's removed due to legal discussions about copyright laws... Then download Wide Open Space from whichever is your preferred music source because it's mint, or rad, or book, or whatever the young people are saying these days.

(All you html dudes out there - why will Blogger not allow me to embed videos from YouTube on here? It keeps saying the tag isn't closed. What bloody tag? In fact, it always gave me this error message in the past but went on to publish it anyway - Blogger Beta (or whatever we're on now) won't publish it at all. What do I do?)

Winging it

It's Friday night, so obviously I've been sat in by myself watching Green Wing - I've found a place on t'interpipe where you can watch them all for free, yippee! - and am genuinely alarmed by how much Alan Statham reminds me of me. Apart from the obsession with sex of course. But otherwise: uncanny.

To sleep perchance...

When I happen to mention to other cat owners that I shut my cats out of the bedroom at night, they tend to look at me with a piteous look and make noises that are supposed to make me feel like I'm missing out on one of life's great pleasures by denying myself the opportunity to snuggle up with these fluffy bundles of joy.

Now, I'm not denying that during daylight hours, the gentle chirruping, chasing each other back and forth across every stick of furniture I own (now all ruined by a million tiny claw marks but hey ho) and tossing balls up in the air then pouncing on them with all the enthusiasm of a hungry lion on a wounded gazelle, amuses me no end. The affectionate moments, where they spreadeagle themselves on my lap in order to receive the exact required amount of petting but absolutely no more than that is also very sweet and I will happily deny myself any drinks or snacks I'd otherwise like to have until they have moved off of their own accord so as to avoid disturbing them.

But at night time, call me old-fashioned, I like to sleep. It is, I believe, a basic human need and, as has been discussed here previously, a hugely enjoyable exercise. Additionally, my job of choice does occasionally necessitate my getting up in the middle of the night to attend births and having had even a small amount of sleep can be a considerable advantage. And having two cats running around me, fighting, or padding slowly over my wishing-I-was-comatose body, often with paws - and indeed a pause - on my head has a tendency to interrupt this process. I've tried, I really have. In fact, last night I left my door open and by 5am, when I was lying awake, having found it necessary to contort my body into an highly unnatural, and indeed uncomfortable, position in order to accommodate the two now repose cats, who had spent the rest of the night trying to eat my hair and trying to reduce my Ikea chest of drawers back to splinters, I ended up chasing them from the room and shutting the door with relief.

Blast from the past

As you may have heard, Gareth Hunt died last week. Those of you who've known me for donkies will remember that Gareth was one of stars of Side by Side, the sitcom I did when I was 17/18 years old and he was such a lovely bloke. Although we hadn't kept in touch, I was really sad to hear about his death. Then I saw Alex Walkinshaw, who played my 'lurrrve interest' in Side by Side, on This Morning last week talking about his role in The Bill and his new son, Jack. It got me to thinking about Louisa Rix, who played my mum in the series and I ended up googling her. It only bloomin' turns out that she lives 10 mins away from me, so tonight, after work, I took a detour round to hers to surprise her (it did!) and ended up having a lovely cup of tea with her and Richard Ommanney, her husband and the writer of Side by Side, who now works as a writer on The Bill! Phew! She also gave me the details of Gareth's funeral next week so I will head over there to pay my last respects.

Is it too early for me to go to bed? I say this because as I write, it's 9.25pm and, having just finished indulging in a lovely long soak in the bath, I want tuck myself straight up.

This happens more and more as I get older. I find that the evening is all about biding my time until I feel it's socially acceptable to go to bed; I look forward to it for hours. A cup of milky coffee, a hot water bottle, a good book, the cats for company, and away I go. A pair of clean pyjamas is a lovely treat too. Oh dear.

I do realise how this sounds, I really do. I know I need to get 'out there' a bit more but sleep is just sooooo nice...

Bust

No, I haven't gone and got one.

I am referring, of course, to companies who supply me with goods and then deliberately go bust in order to get out of having to actually repair their shoddy handywork.

Last year, when I found my grill wasn't working, I attempted to contact the oven manufacturer, Arrow, only to discover that they'd gone into liquidation. After much searching, I finally managed to track down one man on eBay who had a stock of Arrow grill parts (why?! But I'm immensely grateful) and got the part, which my dad duly fitted and now I have a working grill. Hurrah.

For the past few weeks* the lock/handle on the window in the kitchen has been broken and I've had to wedge my knife sharpener behind it in order to secure it against burglars (who know knife sharpeners could be so useful?) I have put off getting it repaired because, well, because I didn't know who I should call about it to be honest. I mean, it wouldn't be an electrician, not a plumber, not a carpenter - so who? A window cleaner?

Today I decided I really needed to get it sorted if I'm going to rent the flat out so I look through the paperwork the previous owners had left me and found that the windows had been fitted in 2001 and had a 10 year guarantee! Excellent! Only it was with Bryco and the bloody bastards went bust in 2004, as I discovered when I tried to call, then google, them. Anyway, what I managed to do was find out the manufacturer of the lock mechanism (logo on the underside of the lock - would have had to hang out of the window (first floor) to see it but instead had the bright idea of getting my camera and taking a picture of it so I could read it), then looked up the manufacturer on the old interpipe**. I not only found the parts in question, I also learnt what they were called. Very important when trying to talk to repair men (because conversations that go "you know the bit that looks like a very thin pencil, that fits inside the other bit, the bit shaped like a piece of macaroni, that's not going in properly" tend to lead to comedic-type misunderstandings I find). Incidentally, the handle is called an Espag Handle and the lock is a shootbolt. Obviously. Now I can converse about window mechanisms with the best of them.

So then I call the manufacturer and they give me a list of local stockists, one of whom I call and she says someone is in my area and can be with me in half an hour. Cue some frantic cleaning of said window area, including using a toothbrush to remove the many years accumulated gunk from the lock. Half an hour later, two burly gentlemen turn up, take the handle - sorry, the Espag - off, fiddle around, put it back on and all is fixed. We then have a discussion about the handles themselves, decide they're rubbish and since I wasn't ever given a key for them either, decided to get them all replaced for what I consider a fairly reasonable sum (less than three figures anyway) so I'll be all properly secure again. They'll be back next week with the parts...unless they go bust in the meantime, that is.

*okay, months
** my favourite new word for the internet

"It's not normal...

...and some people say I shouldn't be using the word 'normal', but I'm using it quite deliberately." Kathy Goble, Professional Complainer, on the lesbian kiss on Eastenders.

"How can he refute the Bible, which he's supposed to live his life by, and bring God into the act of Sodomy?" Kathy Goble, Professional Complainer, on the Bishop who conducted a live gay wedding shown on This Morning

"It made me feel physically sick." Kathy Goble, Professional Complainer, on the Channel 4 series 'Queer As Folk'.

"Did you hear who they were all calling for? 'Oh my God oh my God oh my God'" Kathy Goble, Professional Complainer, on Derren Brown's Seance.

"But there's no question about the fact that Jesus was All Man" Kathy Goble, Professional Complainer, on Jerry Springer The Opera.

(X-Rated: The Top 20 Most Controversial TV Programmes)

She was absolutely great. Comedy gold. I want my own little Kathy Goble doll, that will spout bigoted rhetoric whenever I squeeze her boobs.

In her honour, I would like you all to go here and watch Paedogeddon! The Brass Eye Special (it's in 3 parts). I hear it's one of her favourites.

Rocket man

William Shatner takes acting to a whole new level. His own level. Right up there. Only he can travel there; high, high above us mere mortals. It must be lonely up there in space.

Going, going...

Here is my rather modest efforts from the lunar eclipse last night - I was out at dinner and just happened to have my 4m pixel digital camera with me, no tripod, so these were taken free hand. The last shot was taken on a long exposure, but took 5 attempts resting on a brick wall to get one without too much wobble! Still, not too bad considering.

And Happy Birthday Dad!

Should I stay or should I go?

Although some people clearly have too much time on their hands, I rather liked this.

Megan pushes off for good

(L-R) Jo, Kat, Megan, Sarah, Yours Truly.

We went en masse to Heathrow to make sure Megan definitely left the country today. Escorted her off the premises, as it were. We'll all really miss her, but at least I get to see her in six months time - hurrah! In the meantime, we've got messenger so we can always catch up.

Last weekend Megan came to stay with me and we tried to pack in a whole load of stuff so she had some good English memories. We went to see Hot Fuzz, where we laughed our arses off. By the power of Greyskull! Back home for some spaghetti bolognese (my own special recipe) and I made Megan watch the first episode of several classic comedy series. Green Wing, The Office (UK version - she'd only seen the US version), Nighty Night, The Mighty Boosh, as well as some clips from the League of Gentlemen and Nathan Barley. By the way, if you have any suggestions of other must-see comedy series I should educate her about, let me know.

The following morning we began proceedings with a full English breakfast, naturally. Then we drove over to Windsor and took an audio trip around the castle, which is excellent by the way. A spot of shopping followed, natch, then home for a cup of tea and some syrup waffles then we watched Strictly Ballroom before making eggy-bacony-pasta-y thing (the clue is in the name) and then eating it to the tune of Monsoon Wedding. Superb.

So Megan, in the words of Rupert Graves: "You'll remember that, anyroad." (fabulous prizes available for guessing the quote)

Little things

Wow, these photos are so clever! No idea how they do that but it's very effective.

Heard a great story the other day. My friend had a baby 5 weeks ago and last week her sister came to stay, so her partner and her took the opportunity to go out to dinner, leaving her sister to babysit. She said she felt like her arm was missing, but still. They had a nice meal and returned home around 10pm. Then, they realised that it was still quite early and that her sister probably wouldn't expect them back for another hour or so, so while they were alone they decided to do something they hadn't had the opportunity to do for some time...

So they parked up around the corner from their flat, put the seats all the way back, set an alarm...

...and had an hour's sleep.

Megan's send off

My lovely friend Megan is heading home to Canada on Thursday (boo! I'm going to miss her so much that I'm following her hahaha!) and last night we had a leaving do for her at The Defector's Weld in Shepherds Bush. It started off as a rather sedate affair but six bottles of wine later became rather raucous. I should point out that - if you look closely at the above picture it shall provide proof - I was strictly on orange and cranberry juice as usual. There was much photo-taking of cleavages, mainly because our friend Kat has an incredibly impressive one. So impressive in fact, that at one point, that in the spirit of frivolity and in an attempt to prove that not drinking does not equal boring, I buried my head in it. It was very comfy, so I think Cornershop were probably right - everybody needs a bosom for a pillow. Anyway, later in the night two classic drunk scenarios occurred: firstly, Megan spotted a man in a kilt and decided to see what was underneath it. The usual. The second involved the misappropriation of a traffic cone for comedic purposes. Ah the old ones are the best, are they not? A jolly time was had by all. The only thing that was bloody annoying was that somehow I managed to get a sodding parking ticket, so my otherwise frugal night actually ended up being more expensive than if I'd taken a taxi and got plastered. Bugger.

Shere luck

A couple of days ago, I had a hankering for a bit of countryside and decided to drag David with me. The weather wasn't all that great, but hey, you takes your chances in old Blighty, don't you? We started at Silent Pool, a beautiful spot which comes with the added bonus of a highly improbable ghost story. If you've been there you'll know that the water is so crystal clear - due apparently to the close proximity of the lake to the source spring - and so you can see very clearly that it's definitely not deep enough to drown in...

Once we'd had our fill of the lake, we headed off Newlands Corner, one of the most spectacular views in Surrey. Or at least it should be. In fact, due to the drizzle and general bleughness of the day, it actually looked like this:

A quick wander out of the car to see if the view could be improved upon (it couldn't), resulted in slipping in the mud and getting my jeans very dirty, so back in the car for a quick trip over to Shere village in search of a cream tea. We found one at the Lucky Duck tea rooms, where we could also buy some local farm eggs. Nice. There is also a ford in Shere (a bit where a stream goes over the road and you have to drive through the stream - remember to test your brakes afterwards!) which I delighted in going through twice for no particular reason.

On the way back I spotted a sign for Bocketts Farm, so off we went, hoping to find some animals to pet. And we found them! Lots of lambs, two of which had only been born that morning and there was still a bit of blood in the pen to prove it. Too much info? Ach come on with you, we're all born you know. We also went to watch the pigs racing. My pig - Frankie de Snorter - ambled in last, while Curly Sue romped home.

All in all, an enjoyable, if rather damp and mucky, day.

For my family: Cow Lick.

Update on the cats: We've temporarily gone back to the red disc for Rudy's sake, as he was struggling with the concept of the hole in the amber one. Gertie had no such reservations, she's been perching over the hole and doing her 'business' right down into the loo. I find it bloody hilarious! But given that Rudy went over 24 hours without peeing - despite clearly being desperate to do so - and peed for about 2 mins the moment I replaced the red disc, I think we probably need to give him a bit more time.

Problems with my comments

My comments server is playing up, so sorry if you can't comment at the moment. Am trying to work it aaahhht.

Saw Hot Fuzz last night by the way: fabulous.

Potty talk

Quick update on how the cats are doing with their toilet training. The amber disc is in place and both Rudy and Gertie have used it although, as expected, it's been a bit hit and miss.

Gertie gets full marks: I was worried when she went over 24 hours without either weeing or pooing, but then suddenly jumped up onto the toilet completely unprompted and gave a text book demonstration of how to poo straight through the hole. She then turned around and gave my howls of obvious delight the most withering look possible, as if to say "Well naturally I could do it all along; I simply chose not to." She chose to do it perfectly again today - 1s and 2s - but only time will tell whether she will continue to humour me.

Rudy is a slightly different story, gawd bless 'im. He has pooed on it twice: the first time I was there and physically repositioned him correctly over the hole once he'd started - he wasn't happy about that, but there you go - and he did seem quite chuffed with himself afterwards. The second time it was at some point early yesterday morning and he did manage to get it on the disc, but not actually through the hole. Today he chose to wee in my pot plant instead. Still, he is a boy, and males of all species tend to take a while to control their bodily functions. I'm going to keep trying until he learns.

Too much information? Don't care. I'm like a new mother regaling all and sundry with tales of the colour and texture of each nappy. You're welcome to play the part of the glazed-over, secretly uninterested and slightly disgusted friend.

Revealing my evil plan at last

So, for those of you who haven't had to suffer me going on about it, I'm ready to reveal my plans for this year. I'm buggering off, leaving the country, and bollocks to the lotta yer. Only joking. About the bollocks part that is, but I am indeed leaving ol' Blighty for a while to stretch my wings and see what else is out there.

Sad thing is that for most places (like Australia, for example) I'm already too old to get a working holiday visa (ageist bastards) and that's what I want, because I want to take a break from midwifery and do a bit of bar work or whatever for a while. My friend Megan is Canadian and is heading back out there in a couple of weeks (boo!) so I started looking into visas to visit her and found out that there was a tiny allocation of non-student working holiday visas available for those up to the age of 35. I called on the off-chance and they said that, although they had a few left, the allocation would be full within a week. I applied there and then and secured myself a lovely big fat visa.

So the plan, at the moment at least, is: rent out my flat, move in with my dad & step-mum (thanks guys!) and start saving money. Leave work at the end of July to go on a months' annual leave prior to leaving (I'm going on a 'career break' so keep my pension entitlements - woo hoo!) and maybe work a few bank shifts (like temping but in the NHS) during August to save more money. Leave for Canada in early September, fly to Vancouver, hopefully meet up with my good friend Megan and spend a few days in Vancouver then take the train over the Rockies to Edmonton, where Megan lives. Stay there and bum around for a month or so finding my feet. October: go to Banff on a job hunt. November: start work and learn to ski/board. If like it, stay till March/April, if don't, go back to Vancouver to work. March/April: travel round Canada, maybe hop over to the States for a visit to Seattle or Boston or some such place. July: back to Vancouver for Megan's wedding, then leave for Thailand. Spend a month in Thailand and then on to Malaysia & Borneo. Always had a thing about Borneo. Not sure why. Think it may be because of this: Might go somewhere else - Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos? - if I have enough money/fancy it. Then back home via 2-4 weeks in Japan. Then, who knows?

Comments and suggestions welcome...

I'm it

My friend Lisa has 'tagged' me - I thought this was some kind of modern technical thing, but is actually just naming me on her blog - to tell you five things about myself you didn't know. So here goes:

1. Sometimes I just eat Angel Delight for dinner, coz I'm a grown-up and no one can tell me not to.

2. I am currently teaching my cats to use the toilet. Yes, the actual, real, human toilet. I'm using the Litter Kwitter system which I got free from the Daily Mirror (my sister Toni reads it, not me, honest). They're only on the 'red disc' stage at the moment, and they're doing fine with that one, but we did try amber for a day or so last week and it didn't go too well. Gertie got stuck in the hole and then pooed on my duvet in protest. We'll see how attempt #2 goes later this week.

3. I have my own page on the Internet Movie Database. I have on occasion considered submitting a photo but have decided that that would be really very sad indeed.

4. I am terrified of never having kids.

5. I'm so excited about the new Harry Potter due out later this year I'm considering taking a couple of days off work just to read it.

I'm supposed to 'tag' five people to carry this on, but I don't know that many bloggers so I'll just tag my sister Jenny and the inimitable Silas.

Rachel is a Yoghurty God

I'm totally addicted to this: I can't stop eating it. I'm getting through about one big tub every couple of days. If you haven't tried it, you have to. Yum yum yum.