working on it

We went to Aldeburgh yesterday - and got bumped into, pushed past, barged against and stopped in front of the whole time we were there. Not one apology or smile, or acknowledgement at all. I think it is the rudest place we have ever been to. It's incredibly pretty (one of those places you can imagine having a committee meeting about you if your grass is too long, or a shrub out of place.) but rude rude rude.

So we went on our way in a huff and went to a little beach cafe near Sizewell... which was very much the opposite of Aldeburgh. It was clean and seemed okay (it had been recommended as a hidden gem), and our scone and coffee was very nice. But then they cooked scampi for someone whilst we were there and the place filled with a greasy fug and the stench was unbearable (smelled of burnt fried eggs) and so we also left there as swiftly as we were able.

And then, driving home I near screeched to a halt having seen this awesome pub sign:

It restored my mood most efficiently.

Today I have been mostly asleep, although I did venture out for an eye test. No new specs *needed*, but I shall buy some when the vet and blinds have been paid for.

oh yes, the blinds arrived. They look good, although the cats haven't quite sussed out how they can sit on the windowsills. The chap who fitted them told me he fitted some last month to an elderly couple with a small dog which also liked to sit on the windowsill and watch the world go by - and they had him cut the bottoms off 5 of the vertical slats to make him a viewing window. That's dedicated pet ownership for you!

I've got to go back to work tomorrow. Which is depressing and distressing in equal measures. I am trying to not think about it, which isn't the best of ploys. I shall be going to bed imminently not sure whether that's a preparatory or an avoidance technique.

But! I've had a week off and it has been good and I have been busy -I have sewn (although not finished anything yet, as I got distracted), I have painted my bathroom, I have eaten out almost every day. I have seen friends and I have taken Mother shopping, I have seen friends, I have read fic, I have revamped my garden. (My garden is tiny, and "revamping" was really only removing a winter's worth of cat poo, stripping the bark away, replacing it with compost, weeding, pruning and planting out 72 Lobelia (I bought trays of plants, they were on offer, 3 for 2, I never looked at how many were in the trays, and now I have 72 Lobelia) I also have 3 periwinkle in pots. All of that took just long enough for me to have aching limbs and one shoulder and half my back burnt to buggery, whilst the rest remains resolutely lily white.) I lost track of my brackets there.

I also cleared out my clothes - wardrobes and chest of drawers, after opening a drawer I rarely use and finding a stack full of clothes I didn't remember owning. It sounds as if I have oodles of gear, but I'm just a rut dresser, wearing the same 7/8 outfits on a cycle. So, today I tried on, rejected unworn clobber (and found some stuff that I didn't know I liked - it's almost like shopping!

And I've been watching season 1 H50 and remembering when it was all good and every episode didn't make me cross.

The highlight for me has been the last two days though, I put my foot down (with myself as much as anyone else) and vowed that I wasn't going to leave the house. I can't remember the last time I did that (I can, it was before we lost Dad), since then I've been to Mum everyday, or on the days I haven't, it's been because I've been somewhere else and couldn't make it. These past two days are I think the first where I've just been here, doing what I want, with no time table. I haven't been idle, it's these two days that have seen me gardening and wardrobe sorting, but I've done it at my own pace. I haven't even gotten dressed today (or I've gotten dressed a hundred times, if you count trying on all my clothes!) and it's just been mellow. (Even if I've eaten cream crackers for all three meals, because I have no other food in the house!)

Anyway.

Work tomorrow. Bed now.

There was sunshine yesterday, which yay! And it meant I was productive.

Some of it I didn't have a choice over, my bathroom light broke in the week - I've been peeing in the dark ever since, (good job I know where everything is!) Yesterday my friend's lovely Dad came round to fix it for me, so I was up at dawn's crack blitzing the house, hoovering etc. I had a shiny neat house. Yay!

Light was mended and I was all settled to be productive for the rest of the day. And I was, just in my usual haphazard, 2 minute attention span kind of way.

I have(had) a plastic mini shed in my yard for a while. It's broken, but full of stuff. I bought a new, much smaller one and have been waiting for good weather to get out there and sort it. So yesterday I attacked it. The process went something like this:

Take all the stuff out of the shed. Argh! spider. run away. Back again. What's this? Takes 30 minutes working out what this is, before realising you don't need it. Find paint tins. Remember you meant to look up how to dispose of paint tins. Go on internet, find out you have to call the council for paint tins. Have a browse on the internet whilst there, after all it would be churlish not to. Remember that you've been looking to get a piece of foam cut to repair the ottoman seat. Google and find out who does this locally. Phone them and be told they can do it, and could do it today if you get there before noon. Go and measure ottoman. Decide you might as well go now. Go get foam cut. Waiting in shop get a call from mother. Say you'll call her back later. On the way home, go get petrol, realise you're now only 5 minutes from mother, you might as well pop in rather than phone. Visit with mother. Brother and sister in law arrive while there, so visit with them too. When they leave it's lunchtime and you know if you insist on lunch Mother will eat too rather than just eat a biscuit, so stop there for lunch. Get back home around 2.30 and remember the carnage in the back yard. Empty and sort contents of shed. Realise you need to dump 95% of it and wonder why you bought a new storage thing at all. Attempt to disassemble the old storage shed. Realise you don't have a clue how and end up attacking it with chisels and hammer. Break it eventually just as you noticed there is blood all over the place. Repair hands, hoping you haven't got some dreadful disease from the muck in the wound. Decide now is as good a time as any to go to the recycling centre. Realise the shed parts are bigger than your car. Jump up and down on them in the street, being glad for the first time that you are the size of a small elephant, before remembering that you are doing in this in the main street. Carry on regardless. gather pieces and put them in the car. Go to the tip, realising en route that you left the windows open in the house. Queue for ever for the tip and when you get home realise it's taken you almost 90 minutes. Return to the yard and start once more. Pile the second load for the tip to one side, watch your cat pee all over it and realise your car is going to stink tomorrow. Contemplate the building of the new storage thing. It's flat pack, it's a plastic rectangle. How hard can it be? Realise you should never have even thought that. Watch as hands start bleeding again at the very idea. Break the habit of a lifetime and decide to prep the area before actually starting. Realise that the tiny patio slab in the corner is as unmoveable as a mountain when you see the gigantuan spider that lives behind it. Give up and take a bath.

( okayness )

( rubbishness )

I have also grown, over the last few weeks to hate the colour of every single one of my walls. I have no desired colour springing up in my mind, just a generous hatred of every tone and shade. Most loathed are the bathroom (dark blue) and the front room (shades of green). I might paint everything pink. I probably won't.

First things first: kassidy62 thank you for my panda! So cute.

The window man arrived 90 minutes late and was here less than 5 minutes. I'm so glad I took the day off for that.

Trailers - trailers have been the theme of the day.

I saw ( The Hobbit trailer ) I know I'm in the minority in not really caring about LOTR and Hobbit. I know that's internet sacrilege but there it is. (it's not that I didn't like them. On the contrary I remember finally watching the dvds and being deeply impressed and I watched all three movies in quick succession - it's just that, well I don't remember it. Seriously, of the three movies I can recall the ending of the first, a visual image of elves talking near some water and the "I will carry you" thing. Yes I know it's a misquote, I'm paraphrasing and I probably only remember that because it was said in Dangerous Lady. I know it's shameful perhaps but, um, yes. So the trailer? Intrigued me in that Guy of Gisbourne is in it. Martin Freeman seemed very cute and appealing and I was filled with the feeling of recognition and homecoming when I saw old familiar faces. But that was it. Sack me from the interwebs now.

I also saw the ( H50 trailer ) and just. Ugh. I stick by 'my' shows. I remain hopeful, ever hopeful, so I will watch and I will hold out for the good bits, but watching that. Just made me lose any of the optimism I was clinging on to.

Surprisingly though the ( SPN trailer ) made me more intrigued and hopeful than I have been since midway through season 6. Pessimistically hopeful, if one can be that, but flashes of hope nonetheless.

And then I watched Lewis; Generation of Vipers and ( got to see )

From that you may conclude that I have had a lazy and you'd be right - although sandwiched between frenzied house cleaning (and litter changing!) this morning and the horrors of grocery shopping this evening.

And now work looms loomingly.

So I ripped up my stair carpet - it was manky, old and dirty - like most carpets, once you wash them the stain repellent seems to disappear and so no matter how many times I hoovered it, it looked a state. I was beginning to hate looking at it.

So I ripped it up, with the plan of replacing it with carpet tiles on the treads, with the edges painted white. I found a good deal on carpet tiles, on adhesive and on specialised floor paint. I was all set to go.

Except. Best laid plans and all that. The previous carpet was fitted professionally (as opposed to every other carpet I had in my house which me and my Dad fitted between us - not surprisingly all of those came up very easily. This stair carpet also came up extremely quickly. Unfortunately, every step has a huge sticky residue from the adhesive used - and it won't come off. I spent two hours this afternoon trying - I used soapy water and a cloth, and a brush. I used a wallpaper scraper. I used varnish remover containing acetone. I used my fingernails, a scouring pad and a knife. In thos two hours I didn't get even one step clear. (Although I did get blisters, sore hands and cuts and scrapes.)

Argh! How can I get rid of the bloody stuff? If I don't have success I'm going to have to pay for a proper edge to edge stair carpet and I don't want that (let alone the expense.) Grr. Any suggestions?

I don't know how to arrange these in thoughts or orders, and I could make separate posts, but I don't want to. So:

I got newbossed a while ago, and the new boss started last week. She's new in that she hasn't been the boss before, so she's learning. Old Boss who was supposed to be here to teach her the ropes is in hospital instead and so Mega Boss came in today and stood in. Our office is falling to pieces a little bit, lots of people are off sick with stress and trauma and things aren't getting done and targets are being missed and it's all a mess. So I came in today to find out that a report hadn't been written and could you do something that pretends to be a report now please in order to save the judge having a hissy fit and putting us in the paper. I did it - and New Boss thanked me *twice* and made a note on the record that I'd done it. Old Boss didn't know what 'thank you' was.

Then Mega Boss spent time apologising to me for other work issues!

Old Boss must be spinning in his hospital bed.

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BFF P was told yesterday that she's going to lose her job (or 80% of it) yesterday. It's a long long story and she has been shafted good and proper - but she is devastated. She has a mortgage and has just moved into her home after over a year of turning it from a shell to a beautiful home - now she's facing a future of £70 a week and may have to lose the house. She's in total shock and has no idea what she can do. Her job is very specific and isn't something she can just go and find a new position for - and she's lost. I feel sick every time I think of her situation and I can't help her and it's horrible.

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Other friend went for a job interview yesterday and, although she scored all the points for the post, someone else scored higher and now she has to watch the person who "doesn't really want the job, but it'll be a change" take the position she's desperate for, and continue to work along side her in an admin role. That's crap too.

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Other friend however, is loved up in the extreme and as the relationship is still secret from most people, spends his days writing "she loves me" or "We went for a walk" on post it notes and holding them up for me to read across the desk. Which is equally as tiring as it is sweet.

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Everything I was supposed to do this week - a meal out, a prison visit to Kent, a birthday gathering - has been cancelled. Instead though I had a different meal out, a different birthday visit and spent yesterday evening with my (lost job) friend. Tomorrow I have to go to my brother's and I just want to go to bed and stay there.

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I went to look at my Mum's neighbour's house today and ... well I don't know. It's nice, but I don't like the decor, but it's airy and next to mum, but it has an electric cooker but it has an en suite bathroom, but I'd have to buy a fridge freezer but it has a patio but they're taking the summer house but it has a huge bedroom but it only has two but it has an open fireplace but it's brick.
And my house is nice. And I don't know what to do and whether I can afford it anyway or whether I can afford teh move etc if I can afford the house and it's all very alarming.

I have a man coming to the house to tell me how much it should cost on Friday and then I can panic about the decisions I would have to make then. Then. then.

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I'm tired.
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F is at Chelsea flower show. Have I mentioned that? He and his business partner designed a garden and got into Chelsea and they won a silver medal today. I sent him a text congratulating him and received a :( in response. When I queried this, his only answer was "I wanted a gold"

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I still very much like White Collar and I shall go and watch an episode now to calm my mind.

Ooh I've been a poorly bunny. Nothing of excitement, chest infection/cough/cold usual winter rubbishness - I found it quite difficult to move and breathe at the same time yesterday, but I am steadily improving. Mum gave it to me, which has been useful in the sense that every time she goes off into a panic about my not breathing properly or suchlike, I have been able to remind her that I have what she had and there is no need for emergency care. I would quite like my sinusses to be temporarily removed however. (Or permanently, do we need sinusses?)

Anyway. I've spent the last 24 hours in my pyjamas and on the phone to Mother. I have to be recovered as we are supposed to drive to Shotley tomorrow to meet with the HMS Ganges Museum man to gove them the donations and talk about Dad's ashes. That's if the threatened 15cms of snow doesn't arrive overnight.

Unrelatedly: in May last year I had a survey done to get some work done on the house as part of a Government scheme. It promised free things and seemed very shiny, but then no more was heard and I gave up on it all. But no! I received a call on Wednesday from a friendly lady wanting to arrange a man to come and view my loft. He came yesterday. My loft is accessed via a full cupboard which itself is behind a chest of drawers. I did quite well and managed to move furniture and remove all but three exceptionally boxes. This left me extremely breath challenged and I had to rely on the kindness of strangers - or the man who turned up with a tiny ladder. He was terribly kind though, because after hearing me wheeze my way up the stairs and explain my dilemma, he not only moved the boxes to allow the survey, he moved ALL the boxes into the spare room for me afterwards. So kind.

I have been promised loft insulation 'urgently' free of charge because, as he gasped several times 'you haven't got any, none at all!'. The woman also promised me fully funded wall insulation and double glazing. Golly.

I should go back nto bed now.

I've just been and bought bits of kitchen! ulp.

( this is the brochure version )

I still have to find someone to install it, and do all the clever things with it that make it a functional kitchen, and I need to find an oven, 'cos the store don't do gas double ovens, and that's what I want. But I've just been and indebted myself with over £2400's worth of kitchen!

I think I need a sit down!

nb - mood theme: I was going for shocked/stunned, but can't resist my Starsky in his longjohns!

£120

I love my cat, really I do - but £120!

She now has a monster bandage on her foot ( awwwww )

Today I watched Wings - it was quite sweet - rather long, with lots of 1927 'action shots', I did fforward bits - but have capped the important boy kissage scenes - caps here

I dunno if that link will work...

I also cried some more about the mess and wreck and cock up that is my heating.

Then I watched more Starsky & Hutch

:)