Area 136

Blog says that tags can now only be five words long!

What about the long winded amongst us! Bloody cheek.

And nearly every single tag I have ever put on a post has been deleted because of this new rule.

Where the hell are we blogging - FUCKING ISLINGTON!?

(I should explain, I hate islington because they are the people that fine mothers when their children drop litter. Nazi bastards basically)

I know you won't see this as you seldom blog, but here it is anyway.

I am proud to have you as my God-daughter.

Hope today is a great one.

Love you.

(I have also - by the way, discovered some photos of you when you were about seven playing that plastic guitar that I got you one christmas. You remember the one that your mum and dad made sure went to Grannies for when you stayed over because of the noise it made. I was thinking of blogging them......but I will save your blushes.)

See you at the weekend.

x

Just been doing a spot of on line learning – nothing exciting, just how to use a presentation programme.

I had the audio content turned on because I thought maybe the droning computerised American accented voice would help the facts go in…big mistake.

One of the very few issues I have with American English is how they seem to be trying to save time by saying the word “and” as little as possible. Constantly on this training programme Mr America says “Two thousand seven” instead of “Two thousand and seven”.

Arrrgh!

“It” is another time saving casualty: “I hate when…” instead of “I hate it when…”

I hate it when they do that.

What do they do with all the milliseconds they save during the year by doing this?
Do they add them all up at the end and figure that they have saved an hour or so?

Then do what with it…

Buy more guns? Eat more burgers? Invade more countries for oil?….

Americans…odd little things ain’t they.

It is one all of us office workers are familiar with.

The IT man has said he will be here in the morning to install a new PC and take my old gasping heap of a computer to the great hardware dump in the sky, so you get in early and start the waiting.

And as you have something much better to be doing with your time you KNOW the bastard won’t be here much before lunch.

So you spend some time sending the important documents that you have sitting on your desktop to your own email address as he is bound to loose them or copy them in a format that your new pc will translate into “windings” or something you can’t read.

And you drink coffee and try not to feel cold in the chill of a Monday morning office.

Meh.

Even though I spent the entire day in a totally pointless seminar/course/meeting about how to find a job outside of weird inc. I found a few things to make me smile.

First, as I walked up onto the millennium bridge, a jogger ran past me and slipped as he turned onto the bridge and fell hard down onto his hands and knees.

The words "Oh! Are you all right?" formed behind my lips but didn't make it out through the smile.

Second, the view down the river through the faint haze with the sun hanging in the air like a light bulb on a dimmer switch - easily looked at through the grey cloudy sky.

Third, the fact that both mine and Sarahs Beds were delivered to the flat. OK, I am annoyed that I got a text from Argos last night saying that the delivery time was going to be between 13.00 and 15.00 but got a call this morning at 09.30 from the delivery driver asking if someone would be there in 45 minutes!, but they are there and waiting to be unwrapped and put together.

Oh, and the fact that I am going to Edinburgh tomorrow morning (at "F*CKING HELL O'clock mind you) to see the Moff and in the evening see the fire dancers on Carlton Hill is making me smile.

The journey back on Sunday will be hell though.

Hope you all have a good weekend.

I just looked through three pages of "Recent users" to see who is new in blog land.

Only 11 people appear to be "real" users, the rest are all spam.

So after getting the good news that rather than having two weeks for my two bedroom carpets they could do it today, I was thinking all my good luck was used up.

They were due to come from 12.00 onwards but at 09.30 I got a phone call-

"Ullo, its plush carpets...we 'ave ad a cancellation and we are running about fortee minits early innit. You up fa dat?"

Well I poured my first cup of coffee of the day down the sink in the canteen and shot out of the office like a nocturnal mammal leaving a legendary hot house in a bit of a hurry, possibly with a rather large American dude wailing about young boys "statin' ta foam in the heat"...

So I arrive at the tube station and guess what?

No, go on - guess!

Yup! someone had to go and at something silly at Camden Town and cause all the times to disappear from the next trains display on the platform!

Some people pick the worst days to try out a "passenger train interface"!

So eventually and in just over an hour I reach my flat and the carpet van is sat right outside with two likely lads reading the sports pages within.

I wave, point at the door and open up.

Within half an hour, and an entire hour early - my two bedrooms are fitted with wall to wall carpet!

So anyway, in a little while I am borrowing a hoover and going over to clear up the bits of loose weft and weave before they get stuck on the freshly undercoated skirting boards in the front room and maybe while I am there, light a candle or two in front of the Three Goddesses plaque in the main room and say "thank you"

PS - yes, I have already done the taking the shoes and socks off and walking about scrunching my toes into the fresh new carpet. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm bare feet on new carpet.....

Arriving at work this morning I was greeted by a very odd and not often felt sensation of warmth on walking into the office. Not good will to all men type crap warmth, but actual thermal warmth – the proper kind.

Yes, after only two weeks of cold damp weather they have fixed the boiler.

Typically last night the forecast was for a mini heat wave for the rest of the week.

I suspect our engineers phone Bill Giles up whenever they have any boilers to fix to find the optimum time to do it. Bastards.

So after two weeks of freezing in this dull little box of an office it is going to be all toasty to extreme levels.

No I am never happy.

Also I am not happy about the other sensation I experienced on the train this morning.

When I stood up to change at Bank, my bum felt wet. Well more “rather damp” than wet, but NOT the sort of feeling you want bestowed on you on the train – there are clubs for that sort of thing.

Anyway, brain went into overdrive and I remembered Emms post of last week (re the bag of Cat piss) and as the seat was not cold when I sat on it…..it must be wee right! ARRRRGH! Even the bottom of my coat was damp…urgh.

Of course this being my brain it also went to the good old paranoid failsafe “What if it was YOU?” route, giving me a brief bout of panic along the lines of “Involuntary senior seepage” that I quickly shooed away with a loud burst of mental “LA LA LAAA!” ing.

Getting to work, I hung my coat over the back of my chair and gave said garment a damn good sniffing…..nope…nuffink. No Eau de Tramp groin, no Seeping old man problem….just a leeeetle damp.

Then I remembered.

I had sat in the middle seat in the row, under that “Open to increase ventilation” Grill thing that does nothing but let in RAIN in this weather. I have sat and chuckled at people jumping as the cold drips land on their heads on many a commute. So that was probably it.

Hopefully.

Well it doesn’t smell so I can live with it until I can change later when I get home.

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Rupert the pony was having a nice walk down the lane with Sarah on his back and a nice lady leading him.

Then the horses in the field next to the lane started calling to Rupert to warn him of "predators" lurking in the bushes.

These predators were in fact myself and QM trying to get a good photo.

Rupert turned round, saw the "Predators"...and went for it.

Just for a few seconds he danced and did a little panicked gallop, the woman leading calmed him down and Sarah sat on him through it all, cool as a cucumber.

Daddy of course nearly shat himself!

The nice lady calmed Rupert down and Sarah hopped off, we walked him back to the yard and Sarah got back on with no hesitation and continued her ride.

We have booked riding lessons for her.

She is obviously made of stronger stuff than daddy....