I can't be bothered to link to the original two cartoons which are embedded on this blog somewhere, but if you click on the below, you can see them on the Y0uTube page:
Much hilarity, again!
And yes, I could relate to that. In particular, it reminded me how Brian is very reliable in the sense that he always wants X,Y or Z at the WRONG time. Bless.
In answer to E's question, C and I did not go bat watching last night because apparently bats are members of Unison and were on strike. Yes, really. We found that out AFTER driving along a maze of twisty turny country roads, up a hill and having to turn around twice, but we didn't really mind because the views were so spectacular. Really, I am quite impressed that bats are mammals of principle.
So. we drove home and watched some bad TV instead, which was great, until C started warring with Brian who was trying to stalk Harrythecat while he was eating. Rather annoyed at being picked up and put on an armchair repeatedly when he WANTED TO STALK HARRYTHECAT, Brian jumped on the back of the sofa behind where C was sitting. Deciding that C was clearly the Devil Incarnate and must therefore be punished, he swivelled round with his back to her and directed a perfectly aimed spray AT THE BACK OF HER HEAD.
Yes.
I yelled "Oh, shit!" as I always do when panic ensues, then chased a stricken Brian around the living room and out of the front door while C ran upstairs and threw herself into the shower, totally grossed out and feeling everything else that people feel when a cat pisses on them (I wouldn't know!).
Poor C did manage to see the funny side in the end. And Brian doesn't know it, but this afternoon we are getting revenge by taking him to the vet, who will no doubt want to stick a thermometer up his bum.
Now that would be brilliant!! I hope it stays like that, because we all know how British weather changes every 10 minutes and never does what you want it to do. Either way, the park is going to be very muddy for this weekend's entertainment. (See what I mean? We Brits are never satisfied!)
Tonight we are going to see some bats. Yes. Eeeeeek.
OK so the shed has arrived and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. Especially the shed guys, who arrived after 6pm yesterday with many apologies and much shed dust on their shoes. Apparently, ours was their sixth and last shed of the day, and somehow they'd managed to install them in Derby and Nottingham earlier on. Supershedmen indeed!
If anyone is actually interested (that's be nobody, I guess), you can see the shed making its Project Tuesday debut here. (Funnily enough, we haven't actually put anything in the shed yet. I think the urgency has worn off now that it's actually here and hasn't fallen down the hill or anything.)
And no, I never thought there would be a stage in my life where I got a shed, took a photo of it every week as part of a science art science art you decide experiment, just to see what happens, then posted the results on the internet so that random people could read all about it and then laugh to themselves about the crazy shed lady with nothing better to do.
But here I am, somehow.
In other news, my PC is still not playing ball with broadband. I'm not sure why. The laptop is fine, and so is C's PC, mostly ... I've tried her USB adapter with mine, but it didn't make any difference. It may be because we got one of these last week - it worked for a while but then my PC seemed to decide it didn't like it. Does anyone know if a wireless G USB adapter is OK with a wireless N router? I didn't think it would be a problem, but something is not happy somewhere.
So if you know, please tell me and I will be ever so grateful and do whatever you want*!
* within reason.
Today has not been good so far. For a start, broadband has not been playing nicely with any of the computers here (which also means I may or may not be able to post this). We don't know why - news of any eclipse outages?? - thinking of switching to Green ISP anyway. Whatever.
The worst thing by far was my trip to the dentist. I'm just glad that C came too (I may be 33 but I'm still too scared to go alone sometimes, especially now that we left our gracious and charming old dentist behind in Preston when we moved), and that the dental assistant was very nice indeed, because the dentist was scary.
[DRILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL]
"You need to decide whether you want your tooth out NOW, or if you want to come back twice for longer and scarier appointments, or if you want to pay £300 to be referred to a specialist who may or may not be able to help you."
[MUCH PANIC]
(This bit was edited perfectly by C, who knew it would send me over the edge, so she told me in the car afterwards:) "I can't work with you if you're goiing to have an attitude like that. You need to be more enthusiastic if I'm going to save your tooth."
What was I meant to do, spit out the dental juice and say, "OH YES, PLEASE! I'd love to come back again!"?!
[MORE PANIC]
(Also edited by C)"...You're going to have to hurry up because I have a waiting room full of people."
[DRILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL]
[TEARS OUTSIDE]
Christ. I'll let her off because she's a good dentist and a nice lady really - and because English seems to be her second language, so perhaps something was lost in her translation. I cannot say I am looking forward to my second and third appointments, however.
Then, when we left the dental car park with Harrythedog to take him for a quick walk, we doubled back along the towpath that runs next to it and looked over the wall to see A MAN WAS PUTTING A CLAMP ON OUR CAR. Somehow, C managed to convince him that we'd been to the dentist - showing him the receipt helped - so he grumbled to himself and took it away again.
Just imagine - someone actually sits in a car all day in Mytholmroyd Health Centre's car park, watching out in case someone decides to walk their dog after they've been traumatised at the dentist, and then leaps out and gets a huge yellow metal contraption from their boot and sticks it on their tyre and charges them £75 to have it removed, or tries to, anyway.
Wow.
You know that "news" page you get when you sign out of Hotmail? Sometimes it throws up some really weird shit.
Today, first I read this story about a woman having a cup of tea with an armed robber to distract him from the crime. Then, when I thought it couldn't get weirder, something else got thrown up about a girl who found out that a bat had been living in her bra. For FIVE HOURS. And yes, she was wearing it at the time.
The mind boggles.
And no, we don't have a shed *yet*. Monday is now Shed-day, rather than Shednesday, which it would have been if it was today. Unfortunately the shed guy was in an accident (he's fine, but his van isn't) so... the case continues.
Oh joy!
Apparently, buying a shed - and arguing about where to put it - is a very thirtysomething thing to do. According to A, anyway. So, if A's word is to be taken as law, I am now a proper thirtysomething. Oh joy(!)
To cut a very long and boring story short, on Wednesday, we're having a shed delivered and installed. Oh yes, we are paying double to have it installed by professional shed people rather than getting one from B&Q and figuring it out ourselves. Stupid? Too late.
This is partly because we live far away from our Dads, and when I asked my Dad if he had any advice about installing a shed on a hill, he just looked at me as if I was mad and then laughed loudly and said "DON'T." It is also because whether you are on a hill or not, installing a shed seems to be really complicated and may or may not involve drilling into concrete, and seriously, I don't want to go there. Ever.
So Wednesday is the day I become an official thirtysomething. I just hope they don't think our hill is too hilly and impossible for a shed because sheds are far more complicated than they sound. Trust me.
Plus, our BBQ goodness partly depends on it (if you think we're just getting a shed for a laugh, you'd be mistaken). Would you believe that today is the 7th of JULY and we haven't had a BBQ yet?! I can't either. BBQ Man would be appalled!
... EVEN IF YOU'RE A DOG PERSON LIKE ME?!
Go on, I dare you to tell me.
I DARE you.
Ha!
I can't stop watching this. Like 36,000,000+ other people. Woo!
I am laughing to myself in disbelief in one of those I Must Blog That moments.
To cut a very long and unneccessary story short, the other week we were given a large black suitcase containing some stuff we'd bagged on Freecycle. The stuff inside was brilliant, but the suitcase was unwanted, so I tried Freecycling it away again. Strangely, no one wanted it. It's big and looks just fine, so I was a bit surprised.
As the week wore on and no one wanted the suitcase, it was just gathering dust on the landing, so I contemplated taking it to the tip yesterday. "Oh, no." C said. "Have another go on Freecycle."
So I tried a different angle this time, and explained in my new Freecycle ad that the suitcase was very sad because no one wanted it, and we would be very grateful if someone would give it a new home. Lo and behold, in my inbox this morning I found FOUR emails from people who feel sorry for the suitcase and wanted to take it away.
It is shortly going to its new home in Hebden Bridge. Ahhhhh.
... it has been eight days since my last posting.
Oh, well. Life happens.
Have you got Firefox 3 yet? If not, get it now. It's not as if they need help in breaking the download record, but every little counts, right? Clever.
Indeed, it's cool, and very fast, although I haven't had time to customise it yet. Soon.
And more blog posts = soon.
Oh yes, Brian is very cute, in a Shrek-like way.
Oh yes, we are perfectly happy to be his canteen/B&B/friendly local catnip supplier.
HOWEVER, we would much prefer that he didn't get into a spraying war with Harrythecat, because really, life is complicated enough without regularly going round the house with vinegar solution, peering suspiciously at any patches that vaguely resemble cat "liquid".
Solutions? We've tried them all. The latest was £40 spent on a calming diffuser thingy, special wipes and an exciting looking CSI-style torch. They better arrive soon!
Soon, soon, soon!
Yes, thank God - Vista has finally gone and has been replaced with XP, so my computer actually works now. I'm even using it to type this blog post and everything. Woo!
And yes, I was wrong about BB9, but conspiracy theories are made to be broken. Or something.
Happy weekend!
OK so BB9 starts tonight and as usual, R and I have been texting and speculating about who will be going in and what they will be like and whatever else. My favourite theory so far is that they'll all be blue people from planet Zog, but really, I think they'll just be carbon copies of the people from last year, and the year before, and the year before, and the year bef*SNIP*.
And then there are the rumours about a possible blind contestant this year, as well as one who owns a £13k watch(!) and one who was in a film with Hugh Grant. Because all the "leaks" from Channel Four are to make people speculate and watch it tonight, of course we have been creating conspiracy theories. The most "possible" one is that the blind contestant is not blind, but deaf (in a kind of weird disability-swapping red herring scenario), and is actually David Bower. We know this because David Bower is deaf, and he was in Four Weddings and a Funeral with Hugh Grant. We don't know if he has a £13k watch though - probably not.
So I am blogging this in case me and R are right, and are therefore geniuses, but we're probably wrong.
If we're right, YOU SAW IT HERE FIRST.
Yep, Pussy has fully taken advantage of the free walk-in cat buffet service going on at Chez J&C. I despair.
In other news to despair, I note that Big Brother 9 is due to start, and there's a brand new house which hurts my eyes . As usual, C, Jacks and I have wondered if we will be ignoring it this year and actually do Other Things aside from paying attention to the escapist pile of crap that it's certain to be. Of course, we do have Other Things to do, and plenty of them, and yesterday it took me and C about 10 minutes to remember who won last year's programme. Hell, we couldn't even remember who was IN it. So what's the point?
There is NO point. And that is why I will be watching.
This is what happened when I tried to book my first appointment with our local doctor:
Stony faced receptionist: (Crossly) Hello.
Me: Hello. I'd like to book an appointment, please.
Her: (Sighs) Oh, OK.
Me: Sometime tomorrow or Thursday would be good, please. And I would prefer a female doctor if possible because they're easier to lipread, but I don't mind really.
Her: Hjhjhjkykyn luik,jkluim derewfghn nnnhg.
Me: Sorry, I'm Deaf. Can you repeat that please?
Her: It's half term. I don't think there'll be anything, but I'll have a look. [TYPES] No, there's nothing.
Me: Nothing for tomorrow or Thursday?
Her: No.
Me: What about Friday?
Her: (Sighs) I'll have a look. [TYPES] No.
Me: Nothing?
Her: No.
Me: Well, when's your next appointment then?
Her: Well, you know, it's half term so they're all off. [TYPES] Monday.
Me: OK so right, Monday...
Her: I'll just have a look at the other surgery for you. But I don't think they'll have anything either.
Me: Oh, right, OK thanks!
Her: [TYPES] No. Nothing.
Me: Nothing at all? Not tomorrow or Thursday?
Her: No.
Me: Er, what about Friday?
Her: (Sighs) Let me see. [TYPES] No.
Me: So there's nothing at all?
Her: No.
Me: OK, then right. Can I just summarise... you don't have any appointments at all until Monday?
Her: No.
Me: So. OK. I'll book one for Monday then, please!
Her: (Sighs) OK. [TYPES] OK. Dr Hghjg Kgjdsfd at 3pm then.
Me: Great thanks! Is it a woman doctor?
Her: No.
I am back in blogland, and am lucky enough to be able to say that holiday was just what I (and C) needed. So, here I am, like a neatly rolled ball of string, with a respectable suntan and a un-stressed heart.
Will it last? I hope so! Especially the tan.
France, particularly the place where we stayed in Charente Maritime, was magnificent. Both of us would highly recommend it, as long as you like total peace and quiet and don't mind driving along in the middle of nowhere amongst miles of vineyards (C did that for the first time, and she was great!).
What is it with rural French signposts?! They're TINY and can mostly only be seen from one direction - i.e. usually the WRONG direction - so you've driven past them before you realise you needed to turn, and you then have to drive another mile to a farm to turn round and drive back e-v-e-r s-o s-l-o-w-l-y just to make sure that you don't miss it second - or third - time around. What's that about?
But yeah, it was brilliant to get away and just lie around doing nothing much, as well as drive past many signposts in attempts to visit places and stuff. The flight home was rather eventful, however, because there was a large group of hungover rugby players from Bacup on our plane. For some reason, they were all dressed in "traditional" outfits (flat caps, waistcoats, neckties and, er, clogs), and insisted on talking to everyone on the plane... though I was lucky that "my" rugby neighbour only asked me how to sign thank you after I helped him to find his seatbelt.
Anyway, if anyone fancies that place I linked to above, drop me an email and I'll be happy to er, answer questions(!) Right now I'm knackered - I don't even know why I'm blogging. Perhaps it's because I'm too tired to go on MSN and somehow it's easier to talk to oneself than to other people. Er, I don't make a habit of it.
So now I'm home and decidedly un-grumpy and delighted to see the Harrys and Brian and very grateful to KR and Ce for looking after them and hoovering up all the fur that they shed during Prime Moulting Season which happened to be last week. Last week was also The Week That Everything Grew - no, not the Harrys, thankfully (they're actually smaller without all that fur) - I'm still shocked by how LONG the grass is and how BIG the plants are, especially the tomato plants, which have made it look like our spare room is being used for something illegal. It's also at the front of the house, which means we have some emergency gardening to do.
Photos will be on Flickr at some point this century; i.e. as soon as A nags me into submission.
You know how when you're off on holiday, your brain slowly starts to shut down and then unravels as you realise you are going to have a break and not have to work hard or whatever, even though if you weren't going on holiday, you would probably be fine and bite your lip and get on with things as usual, with the typical British Upper Lip Thingy?
Maybe, maybe not.
Anyway, that's how I feel right now. The good part is that C just reminded me that this time tomorrow we'll be in France so I can unravel by the pool.
And no, I probably won't be blogging. If you're stuck for something do to (which you may well be if you're here reading this in the first place), have a look at my nerdish Project Tuesday, complete with "clever" comments from A, who is masquerading on Flickr as gretag, in case you hadn't guessed. It's probably easiest just to play the slideshow, but obviously it hasn't finished cooking yet because, well, it's May and not December.
Is it science? Is it art? Who knows. It's doing wonders for my patience.
So, byeeee! And don't worry. KR is doing next Tuesday's Project photo in my absence, as well as all Harry-related duties. KR and Ce rock!
No more wee, thank God.
And no, we didn't take all of the above home, in case anyone was wondering about the title of this post. I was more referring to the piles of randomly procured things in the kitchen and on the washing line that need to be Freecycled by us, but not yet because WE ARE GOING ON HOLIDAY SOON, so for now they're kind of temporarily classified as memorabilia.
Crazy? Yes. That's me. And C.
Bag ladies? Not yet. For now, just crazy cat ladies. OMG.
What would I say if you asked me if I'd spent all weekend traipsing around a field in the mud, voluntarily picking up rubbish and recycling other people's alcohol-related debris at a camping festival that I'm not even camping at, because they don't allow dogs, and also because we're kind of running a cat B&B at the moment (which is a whole other story for another day)?
I'd say yes. And I'd add that 10am is a particularly horrible time to have stale beer all over your hands.
Heh. It's actually fun, believe it or not, mostly because of the obvious environmental benefits, but also because it's quite a sociable job and C and I have both met loads of lovely people - and nagged them about recycling, of course.
It's also really disgusting. Who knew that baked bean flavour baby food could make so much mess? And also who DIDN'T know that sanitary towels can't be recycled?! Oh, and if the two men who peed drunkenly in the plastics bin outside the main marquee ever tell me it was them, they will live to regret it*. Nuff said!
The weirdest thing we've found so far has to be the pair of gentleman's suit shoes which were placed neatly at the bottom of one of the bins soon after the festival started. All very mysterious!
So. More mud and beer cans beckon tomorrow... just please, no more wee*.
* And yes, I know that was probably all Too Much Information, but, umm, how else am I meant to process such weirdness?
The scene: Our kitchen, just now. Doorbell rings.
C: There's someone at the door. [goes to front door, opens it]
Through the glass door, I can make out three people on the doorstep; one of whom is wearing a weird bib thing (think netball) with "NDCS" on it. I bid a hasty retreat to the back garden to throw breadcrumbs out for the birds. A minute later, C appears.
Me: I know who it is and I'm not doing it.
C: Oh, come on. Just meet them. I told them I have someone I'd like them to meet...
Me: I don't want to! You can't make me!
C: Oh come on.
Me: No!
C: GO!
I go into the hall, to find NDCS Bib Man stroking Harrythedog who is lying across the doorway, with two very smart looking women standing behind.
Bib Man: SaysomethingbutIhavenoideawhatblahblah.
Me: [pointing to bib] Can't you sign?
Bib Man: [going red] Er, no.
Me: Can you?
Woman 1: No.
Me: Can you?
Woman 2: Er, no.
Me: [voiced over by C] You work for the NDCS and you can't sign? Shame on you!
Bib Man: [redder] Well, I've only been working for them for three weeks.
Me: [voiced over by C] Oh, plenty of time to learn then!
Bib Man: Er, yeah. Um, have you had any services from the NDCS recently?
Me: [voiced over by C] Um, not lately. I'm 33!
Bib Man: No?!
Me: Oh yes.
C: I don't think there's much you can tell us about the NDCS that we don't know already.
Bib Man: Well. Bye then!
[they leave]
Me: And now they're going to tell our neighbours all about deaf children.
C: Well I hope they don't think it's because of you!
Me: Did he really not believe I'm 33?!
C: No!
This evening, Brian decided to move in, for reasons known only to himself. He is showing no desire to leave. Kind of like a sit-in. And yes, Harrythecat looks furious. Mind you, Harrythecat's default expression is furious.
Oh dear.
I am just sorry that I missed this. What does it mean?!
Is it art? That is the question!
... but HOW CUTE IS THIS?!
OMG. CUTE!!
Yessss, I've subbed to icanhascheezburger.com. And noooo, I wasn't interested in it until I became a Crazy Cat Lady In Training.
However! Lest anyone thinks I have gone all soft in my old age, I had better point out that THIS is my favourite one so far:
Quite amazing innit, the resemblance?
If you haven't tried purple sprouting broccoli, TRY SOME NOW, before it goes out of season.
I'd always eyed it with mild suspicion until recently, because, well, it looks kind of weird and isn't broccoli meant to be GREEN anyway?! But then we switched to the farmer's market rather than getting an organic veg box when we moved here, and the farmer always has tons of the stuff, so I have been brave and tried it and decided that I LOVE IT. Seriously, it's fantastic. And yes, you're meant to eat the leaves too, which means much less faffing about.
I can't quite believe I'm sitting here raving about how wonderful a vegetable is, but seemingly, I am. And I am very sad that it's going out of season soon.
So, do not let the humble purple sprouting broccoli remain ignored!
Tip Warning of the day:
If you start using an extra monitor with your laptop while your PC is being fixed by the nice people down the hill, please be aware that you will never, ever like using one monitor again. In fact, a solitary screen will seem so inadequate that, in effect, you will feel like someone has sawn your entire desk in half for a laugh.
Then, when your PC comes back from the nice people down the hill, you will leave it in its box for over a week until you get round to buying a second monitor so that you can carry on with your new dual monitor habit obsession.
You have been told!
It's snowing...
... and this weekend, C and I are way too knackered to do anything or go anywhere (that's what overtime does to you when you're our age!) so we decided to stay home and grow things.
OK, to be more exact, we've planted things rather than grown them, because that's the part you have to do first. So, yeah, our newly chitted seed potatoes are planted, but we had to keep bringing them in because of the snow, so we've kind of given up and they're in the utility room for now until it looks more like April again.
Along with the potatoes, we've planted tomatoes, sweetpeas and various other flowers, mushrooms, crystals and, er, an envelope. But it's no ordinary envelope - after all, how could A possibly consider giving me a birthday card in an ORDINARY envelope?! - it's a special Florelope made from sheep's poo and seeds (only in Wales!) and if we water it and everything, it'll turn into flowers! O-K-K-K-K.
Sooooooo... in the absence of any instructions, said envelope was optimistically ripped into several pieces:
... and then arranged as so:
... then covered in compost.
Now this is the part where we cross our fingers and hope for the best, at the same time as feeling slightly suspicious that this is all a con and well, who plants envelopes?! Er, us.
A's Dad, ever the cynic, thinks they'll come up as dandelions, but I'm secretly hoping for something like the ones on our kitchen table at the moment:
Who knows?
Remember this? If you liked it, you'll love this...
... this time around, I could actually relate to it, which was kind of weird but just made it funnier. Thanks for emailing it, A!
Spotted in the Calder countryside this afternoon...
I think someone got something wrong somewhere?!
... but it certainly feels like it already, so here's a brilliant game in honour of The Feeling. Many thanks to E for dropping it in the comment box!
Now I have to go and re-attend to my overflowing inbox. In case you haven't noticed, this campaign's really been hotting up in the media this week*, and guess who's become obsessed with obtaining radio transcripts? If you're hearing, we're hiring! But we don't have any money!
Fun, fun, fun.
* Don't believe most of what you read. Seriously. We don't want to create designer babies, oh nooooo. We just don't want anyone to be able to create anything. Er, basically. Bye!
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Coherence coming sooooon!
Just so that I don't break my blog-at-least-once-a-week rule.
Does anyone out there take echinacea daily to ward off colds? I do, amongst other things, or I did, until I found out that taking it daily might not actually be a good idea because it means your body might just get used to it, so it kind of won't work any more. Oh dear. So I stopped taking it daily, after doing so - and being illness-free - for a few months, and guess what? A day or two later I started to get a sore throat. There was nothing for it but to start taking it again.
I am a slave to herbal remedies. Agh!
When I explained this to C this morning, we agreed that my immune system is a bit unhinged, so I need to be "restored to my factory settings" and go back to my default, echinacea-free self (what kind of conversationalists merge geekisms with herbalisms, I don't know, but it suits us fine and we understand each other!). Does anyone know how long this might take, just out of interest?
Whilst on the subject of factory settings and defaults, my PC tower is due back today, sometime within a 10-hour "I'm afraid we can't confirm what time it will be with you" window. Apparently, "The engineer found "bad sectors" on the hard drive. Which has been replaced." So all of that palaver and chasing of tails and miscommunications and lost ties in gardens was their fault? What a surprise.
And will I get an apology? I doubt it. And by default, this means that the Evil Computer People are going to get a long, annoyed letter from me. When I have a moment, anyway.
Brilliant, eh? C forwarded me the above advert, along with a load of others which were equally mindboggling, if not more so. Here are three of my favourites (email me if this kind of thing trips you out too and you'd like me to forward the original to you)...
Clever!
Scary! "It's not loaded, officer, honest!"
And... ouch. They should probably have that one in London, especially if it's still as ridiculous as it was when I lived there, and millions of people crammed into buses as if there was no tomorrow and they didn't actually need to breathe or anything basic like that. Oh no.
Because a) we want to grow potatoes again this year and b) it sounded quite fascinating, C and I went along to the local Potato Day today. As my dad often says, you don't know until you try.
Ignoring warnings to pre-book seed potatoes because of the rush, we were rather alarmed to arrive just after noon to find the finish time had been slashed to 2pm from 4pm and someone had chalked "HURRY, GOING FAST!" on the sign outside. Clearly, they're mad for potatoes in these parts, so we rushed inside, to be greeted by a lovely but very serious lady who talked us through basic Potato Politics and warned, "these ones are new, so we don't know what they're like," as if she was worried that they might grow teeth and attack us in the night. I resisted the urge to say "they're potatoes."
And we bought some. Woo!
After a long, boring and drawn out series of emails with the Evil Computer People, who of course didn't answer any of my questions or even get my contact details right, this morning my PC tower was taken away to London by a huge man with a blonde mullet, who looked like a cross between a wrestler and an 80s action movie star. I can't decide which.
But anyway, the above is kind of irrelevant (especially the part about the mullet) because the point of this post is to ask for advice, not ramble on about delivery men.
I gave up on my PC weeks and weeks ago, and have been using the laptop since. It's been fine, especially as I added a second monitor to it, which has helped my posture because I have RSI and hate laptops for that reason. The departure of my PC spurred me to pimp up my laptop even more, and today I tried plugging in an extra keyboard. But it wouldn't work. I've tried doing it with 2 different keyboards, both with an USB/PS2 adaptor cable, and both with all the right drivers etc, but it won't work!
So does anyone out there know if I am missing something really obvious, like disabling my laptop keyboard or something else that I can't seem to do?! If so, I would be happy to be embarrassed by your comments in the comments box.
I thank you, and goodnight!
It's amazing, the amount of crap that people have thrown on the canal to try and break the ice:
Well, it didn't work. Not even this Christmas tree worked (I know, I know)...
To be fair, though, it probably doesn't weigh nearly as much as it used to, seeing as it's so old and shrivelled and crispy now. Poor thing!
In other news, C and I have realised with much fascination that as our house is south-facing and we live on a hill, we're also on "the right side of the valley". This means we get plenty of sun but if we look out of the window over to the other side of the hill (a mile or so away), everything's frozen and freezing and might as well be in another country. Seriously.
And yes, I know - I'm meant to have blogged about the fifth and last Geocache that we found a week ago. So here is photographic evidence:
Doesn't he look proud?! And so he should, because it was hidden in a really-hard-to-find place, in the middle of nowhere, with lots of rocks and bushes and not even a path. Well, we had to get rid of that blasted Mickey Mouse travel bug thingy that we've had for waaay too long... the Geocaching people will not be happy with us! Now we are travel bug-free and relieved (I wouldn't let C pick up either of the two that were in the cache!)
When we'd done that, we went for a walk on the moors and got a bit lost - as we usually do - which was slightly scary* but excellent for the old stress levels, because if all you can see is this...
... what is there to worry about?
* In my view, the scariest things about moors are boggy bits, which must be crossed either by running lightly or walking very slowly and carefully, depending on various things, just in case you sink in the mud or get chased by a spook. Running aimlessly in a blind panic screaming "CLAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIREEEEEE!" is not advised, because it means you'll lose your sense of direction and henceforth your mind.
So yeah. there are some things to worry about on moors. Luckily, that day was bog-free.
Finally, because this is turning into a really long ramble with no aim, if anyone is thinking of going to see I Am Legend [warning: link makes a noise!], I thoroughly recommend it. Me and C went to see it at the local cinema the other day, and it was SCARY. So scary that we both screamed in places, which was a bit embarrassing, especially as there was an old lady there on her own - on her own?! - and stuff. C was freaked out because no-one told her there were flesh eating zombies in it (you've been warned!) and even more freaked out by the fact that I knew, and I still went along and watched it.
I can be brave sometimes.
This is an example of typical office life a la Team H@Do*:
He seems to be fixated by my desktop wallpaper, which is this fantastic photo of C doing a snow angel (you're never too old!) a couple of weeks ago**:
Oh, the wonders of modern catology.
* Feel free to visit our most excellent website. No, this is not a shameless advertising ploy. We do do free stuff too!
** Note to self: SORT OUT FLICKR! SOON!
I looooooove Valentine's Day kind of despite myself, largely because I looooooove C and it presents an opportunity for me to do ridiculous things to remind her so.
However, I know not everyone shares the looooooove. So if you don't, this is for you:
Having animal co-workers is great!
When Harrythecat isn't sitting on my mobile phone or my diary, he is trying to pin my arms down so that I can't type, or can only move the mouse a bit. C thinks I should turf him off, but he is honestly too cute. He's also quite funny. Just now, when I banned him from walking over my arm for the 5th time this afternoon, he shot me a positively horrified look, stalked over the desk to his princess cushion (oh, yes!) and sat glowering with his back to me for several minutes. Priceless.
And Harrythedog? He only cares if there's food around... if not, he just kips. And farts. Not forgetting the farts! Oh, and after a particularly long day, he will stare at me crazily, barking urgently at intervals, until I shut down my computer and give in and take him for a walk ... a walk that we BOTH need.
The best thing about furry colleagues? They don't argue over whose turn it is to make coffee.
In the office...
Me: You know, I think I became Deaf during the International Year of Disabled People.
C: How very organised of you.
After a dodgy start, I can confirm that it is SNOWING in Hebden Bridge and Mytholmroyd.
Thank you and good afternoon!
I know I am 32. But snow is funnnnnnnnnn!
Click on the house and be spooked!
Were you? I was. The things that L emails me!
Today, we learned that next door, Pussy's name is Daisy*. Pussy-aka-Daisy lives next door most of the time, although it is not her official home and she doesn't spend the night there (I think they're in denial). Her official home, our next door neighbours think, is with someone down the street who, um, how shall I put it, has problems looking after her. Nuff said.
* When C found out Pussy was aka Daisy, she said "Oh, is she a girl then?" and our neighbour said "I don't know! Is she?"
And we don't really want to learn how to find out.
OK, so Mr Cousin kicked my ass and told me to link to Mrs Cousin's excellent new doula website, so I just did. (And in case you don't know what a doula does, they're like midwives, but nicer. I think. That's not to say midwives aren't nice, of course. I should probably stop here.)
So anyway, I thought I might as well do a complete spring clean of my wayyyyy olddddd links, so if you look to the right of your screen, you will find them. And yes, I know they are rather untidy. I like them like that!
And, for the record, the water has gone down and you can hardly tell there was a flood yesterday, except it's a bit muddy and stuff, and in places it looks like someone threw a huge bucket of water down the road.
Funnily enough, we've been meaning to buy wellies for a while now, seeing as we spend so much time tramping around in the mud with the dog and stuff like that. After yesterday, our need for wellies has become urgent - if you can have a Welly Emergency, we're close to having one - but now all the local shops have sold out. Seriously. Even the "youths" wear them around here... which means we can't be THAT uncool.
In other completely unrelated news, we saw the very good The Golden Compass with subtitles on Sunday, at our local cinema, which is a darn sight better than the ones in Preston (it sells cups of tea! in proper cups! imagine! L and A were thrilled, and C was jealous because she didn't get one)... not to mention nearer. Oh, the irony.
As well as that, this morning, I was very pleased and rather taken aback to find that one of the women who works in the local greengrocer's can sign, and remembered enough to have a conversation, despite not having signed for 10 years.
This place constantly intrigues me.
Note how you can barely tell the difference between the road and the river, which is scarily high behind the wall - it seems to have risen a good few feet...
... On the way down the hill (we were walking the dog, alright!) we bumped into a neighbour who excitedly informed us that all of the shops in Mytholmroyd are closed except for Sainsbury's, where she works, which is "just" open because it's got more steps. We also saw someone bleakly bailing buckets and buckets of water out of their house. Right now I am just glad we live on a hill, and feel really sorry for those who don't.
More later, maybe.
This morning we were having a late breakfast (I know, I know, slow start) when C suddenly jumped out of her skin because there was a loud, LOUD noise outside that sounded just like an air raid siren from World War Two. Apparently it was like this:
WAAAAA-WOOOOOOOO, WAAAAAA-WOOOOOOO, WAAAAAA-OOOOOOO
So we rushed to the door and I could feel it if I touched the wood. I also saw a small child outside on a bike - in the rain - rather than at school, so we concluded it was probably a flood warning. Some quick googling told us that it was.
It's not exactly a surprise as there's been sand bags all over the place for a week or so now, but the main road is shut so C can't go and interpret later. Oh dear. We are trapped upon our hill!
Hooray, I have finally uploaded my new header (if you can't see it, press SHIFT-REFRESH). While it is unimportant in the face of, er, important things, it was important to me in the name of Tidiness Of The Brain. Thanks must go to R for helping me to realise that ".JPG" should have been ".jpg" - a small but important detail.
ANYWAY. The image you see at the top of this page is of the very fine dry stone wall that is at the end of our back garden... while we don't own this wall, we are apparently 'in charge' of it, whatever that means. I guess we have to make sure it doesn't fall down or something, but there isn't much chance of that as it's as heavy as hell - much respect for the people who built it in the first place - so I'm not too worried.
I'm also less worried about Pussy now that our special new cat shelter arrived this morning (kind of from eBay, yes, T) and is in its rightful place outside. Is it weird to worry so much about a cat that you don't even know?! It's not as if I don't have anything else to worry about - believe me, I do - but anyway, it was important to me, especially as it's freezing here. I'd post a photo of the shelter, but it's really unexciting - kind of like a curved lump of "sandstone" coloured plastic with a hole in it - but as long as it does the job, that's OK with me.
So who'd have thought I'd be scouring the net for cat shelters?! I'm probably just going soft in my old age. Further evidence of this softness/old age is the fact that I am ALLOWING Harrythecat to stand menacingly on my lap as I type this, partially pinning my right arm to the desk and making it very difficult to type indeed. This is something I mercilessly wound A up about for years, before I too succumbed to The Control Of The Cat.
I have to go. He really won't let me type.
Last night our neighbour kindly came to the door in the rain to tell us that our car was illegally parked facing the wrong way, and we should turn it round because "they fined 20 people all at the same time on that once." Ehhhh?! Yes, she said; it's something to do with a bizarre highway law that says you aren't allowed to park your car facing the 'wrong way' at night, otherwise other drivers might shine their headlights into yours and think you're about to move, or something like that:
Parking at night248
You MUST NOT park on a road at night facing against the direction of the traffic flow unless in a recognised parking space.
[Laws CUR reg 101 & RVLR reg 24]
Has anyone else ever heard of this kind of thing happening?!
In other news, we are getting a cat shelter. Laugh if you may, but you don't live here and have to endure the nightly pain of sending Pussy The Stalker Cat away in the rain. Granted, Pussy doesn't seem to want to stay (s/he just wants food), but s/he looks neglected and always seems to be freezing. So, s/he is getting a wee shelter in our garden. A quick G00gle told me that cat houses are ridiculous both in terms of price and image (OK, so that's an American website, but the UK ones were no better - I even found one for over £700! Can you imagine?!), so I've appealed on Freecycle instead.
I wish people wouldn't treat animals so craply. I mean, what kind of evil monster does this?! (NOTE: Do not click on the link if you're easily upset and/or love horses)
Sigh.
As I said yesterday, too many Freecyclers wanted our Freeview digibox, so I put their names in a "hat" for Ce to draw the winner. I did this by emailing Ce a list of random first names to choose from, with no further information. Ce duly picked a name, saying she was "drawn" to it for some reason. Thinking Ce was a bit strange - but whatever - I emailed the woman to tell her that the digibox is now hers. And guess what?
She's Deaf!
While it's not quite a storm after the calm, getting back into the swing of things after Christmas always feels weirdly like you've just taken your brain out of a box and popped it back into your skull, doesn't it? Well, it does for me.
After grappling with my email inboxes, I managed to fill one again in about 12 minutes flat after advertising a long list of stuff on Freecycle (go on, you know you want to!) and suddenly becoming the most popular person in Mytholmroyd. Just as well it's a small place.
Notably, one woman was "really chuffed" to find that some of our old plates matched her plates and she now has a full set. Spooky, but cool!
Aside from that, I have had loads and loads of emails from random people who want our old digibox - because we now have Sky - each with their own Very Good Reason, which means one thing; they will all have to be put in a hat, with the winner drawn by Ce, who kindly gave us the digibox in the first place. I hate it when this happens... you never know who is genuine, and you feel like you can't judge, because who are you to judge who "deserves" something more than someone else? So Ce and the hat come in. Phew!
Next thing on today's list of boring things to do was to buy a mobile phone. "Oh, get her!" you may cry, but please bear in mind that I hate buying mobile phones. It's all so complicated! I did try to buy one from a shop, but the assistant was a bored, tuned-out youth who completely lacked a sense of humour, and whose vocabulary consisted mainly of "yeah" and "no" and "oh, I don't know," so I had zero luck. In fact, she was so demotivating that I wanted to wave my existing mobile phone in front of her, crush it into tiny pieces with my heel and ask her to dispose of it for me, just to see if she reacted. Lord.
So I decided to cut out the human whatsoever and buy one online. Cue much late-afternoon surfing by me and C, who is just about as clueless as I, trying desperately not to get bored and go and do something more exciting. Anyway I managed to find one in the end - the best thing about it was the fact that it was described as "simple to use" - but not before surfing through pictures of zillions of phones and having to fill in a long, long form online and then suffering much outrage at the fact that my first TWO user name choices were taken. God.
Who cares, anyway? It's on its way, apparently.
Why I am even blogging all this, I don't know. Perhaps my 2008 brain is full already and thus needs emptying? Fun!
Can anyone see a dry stone wall at the top of this blog? Let me know if you can, because I can't, and it's supposed to be there because it's my new header. Oh well - it's my own fault for being too lazy to go and get the external hard drive, plug it in and blahhhhhh *snips boring details*
So. Christmas is officially over. Our decorations are down, largely helped by Harry the cat, who (we suspect) knocked over our tree while we were out shopping the other day. This wouldn't have been quite so dramatic if a) the tree hadn't been 7 feet tall; b) it hadn't narrowly missed my new digital photo frame, C's new internet radio and our glass coffee table; and c) it hadn't happened on January 4th, which is the day that decorations are traditionally meant to come down. Spoooooky.
Herewith the dramatic evidence (*note the industrial-sized tin of Quality Street, brought by Ce, as it is an Essential Christmas Item. The tin no longer contains Quality Street. Hooray!):
Angel Number 1 landed flat on her face...
... while Angel Number 2 managed to stay upright, entangled in a mass of Christmas Tree Debris...
The cat rounded off his vandalism spree by throwing his bed halfway across the room and relocating to the dog's bed instead. Quite what was going through his mind, I don't know... maybe it was something to do with the fact that he's only just started to go outside, but it's too wet and cold to be fun, so he's sulking. Whatever.
In other news, me, C and Harry the dog - obviously - have bravely ignored my injured foot and managed to rack up about 10 miles' worth of canal towpath walking in the last couple of weeks. That's actually 20 miles if you consider how we do it on a there-and-back basis... only another 21 miles to Manchester (and a further 21 miles back). Hahahaha.
So anywayyyyyy I have to go and do more useful things, which means I need to make a pile of things to Freecycle because they are being replaced by new items, and because we now have millions of plates all over the place and C is trying patiently to do a jigsaw but there isn't room.
Ah, the trivial side of life. I like it!
2007 was a year in which Things Happened. I hope 2008 is a year in which More Things Happen. Good Things; to me and to you all. After all, as KR just said in a text which managed to wriggle through the jammed network and find its way to my phone:
We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day!Wise words indeed, KR.
... If the cat had a book, it would be a big, heavy spy novel, because everything is one huge conspiracy. He constantly unnerves me and C by stalking around suspiciously and staring at us through narrowed cat eyes, as if he is casing the joint and working out his new move in his 52-year masterplan. On the other hand, the dog's novel would be more like a comic; perhaps a Tom and Jerry-style one or something like that. He's easily pleased!
And my book? It's called To Be Continued...
OK so I accidently broke my must-try-to-blog-1x-week rule, partly because I was busy doing Christmas stuff like eating too much and crawling slowly up and down the M1 in Crazy Festive Traffic (no, I didn't drive) to visit me and C's families... and partly because I have developed a kind of post-work allergy to computers and become strangely drawn to tragic Christmas TV instead.
Wow, that was a long sentence. The last one was much shorter.
But anyway, it all went very well and was enjoyed in all the right places, I am pleased to report. (I hope the same was true for anyone who is reading this!) And now I'm left with a Christmas Belly, a pile of cool pressies including a digital photo frame *yay!*, a permanent, vague hangover and an injured foot.
Yeeees. So our plans to go walking in the new year are now under threat because my foot is black and blue and doesn't work properly. I COULD explain how this happened but I don't think I would manage to do it very well - it was one of those "you had to be there" experiences - but I CAN say it involved the cat sitting in the wrong place, thus giving me a fright and nearly sending me tumbling downstairs, saved only by my foot. And no, I wasn't at all drunk.
Oh yes, the cat was involved. I need say no more. Instead, I'm hobbling downstairs, taking my Christmas Belly with me for more fuel, resolving to fight my new-found computerphobia in 2008 and blog more. Or something.
It's official: Mr Corbett is a geek.
Herewith more evidence...
He loves computers, and kindly sent me into a panic tonight by walking across the laptop and turning the Number Lock on, which took me 5 minutes to work out. So... his new Favourite Place is the space between two computers - one dead [I thank you again for your recommendation, Joe!], one alive - which is much better than the dog's bed...
...so much better, in fact, that he has to be dragged away from the desk in order to come downstairs and be sociable and watch TV with us all. Ring any bells?!
I wonder if this all has some kind of hidden meaning? Or maybe it just means that cats are weird.
First off, please admire our fine Christmas tree decor:
Will probably post a photo of it in its entirety - if anyone is remotely interested - when our angels are ready for the top. But they aren't yet. Instead, we have some groovy new LED lights, which make our living room look like a nightclub most of the time (only C knows how to switch on the 'peacefully glowing' setting).
HOWEVER, our neighbours are crazy for Christmas lights. Crazy, ker-azeeeee, indeed. We tried to get evidence, but taking photos from a moving car is not easy (I don't share C's view that it is perfectly normal and acceptable to walk down the street and stand in front of my neighbour's house with a camera, like some kind of paparazzi person)... however, I think this picture gives a pretty good idea of HOW crazy they are:
Yeees. Every single time I pass their house, my breath is taken away. Wow.
In other festive news, Ce has kindly elfed me and C, which can be seen here by anyone who wants to laugh at us (we did, several times).
And A has kindly sent us some cat nip, which looks suspiciously like a bunch of old herbs, and may or may not save our furniture - I haven't had time to put some in an old sock and wave it around in front of the cat's face as instructed - cat fans, you will be updated.
Have a happy weekend, all!
Don't you just hate it when everything breaks down just before Christmas, and you feel like "agh" because a) it costs money and b) you don't have time to deal with it because you're already spending your entire life trying to deal with the Pre Christmas Rush at work? Well, I do anyway.
And I know there are other things in the world more blogworthy that I should be moaning about, but I don't have the brainspace to think about them, so here is my list of breakages (in no particular order):
1) The car. Haaaaaa, of course it would be the car, because the car always breaks down just before Christmas every year. This year, not content with sustaining a dent after a youth* used it as - er - a trampoline, the car decided to have a puncture in its wheel too, which meant we had to drive around to no less than four garages this morning, before we found the one that was run by Tyre King, who knows everything there is to know about tyres. Then, while he was looking at it, we took the dog for a walk and almost got trampled by a herd of horses who ran at us (it's true... well, at least the dog almost got trampled). And now, we have to go back again tomorrow because Tyre King says blahhhhhh and blahhhhh and whatever, but mainly because it's the most complicated way of doing things.
*exhales*
2) The TV signal. Contrary to popular belief, living on a hill does not help you to get better TV signals, so tomorrow we are getting Sky TV**, because our electrician (who has been 11 times; we counted) said it's the only way we might actually see subtitles and proper TV channels and everything else that TVs are supposed to show.
3) My computer. Oh yes, siree. The Evil That Is V*sta has finally won the war and - er - done something. Sigh. So now my computer doesn't work without randomly switching itself off when I'm in the middle of the Pre Christmas Rush. Thank god for laptops, is all I can say, and that's strong coming from someone who hates laptops.
4) The dog.*** Who is now banned from under the bed for the rest of his life.
5) The cat. **** More catvice needed please, cat fans: how do you make a cat use his lovely new scratching pole thingy rather than scratching all of our doors and furniture to smithereens?
And that was my Broken Things Rant. Thank you and goodnight!
* - we think.
** - if you're interested in the special Dixons £75 deal and the website says it's sold out, don't be fooled because it isn't, and you can save a further 10% by putting in the code SKY10.
*** and **** - mainly just mentioned to annoy OPD, because she thinks I blog about the Harrys too much. And she is right!