rARsh!

Bless ‘im and bliss in a new orifice

I return home to find an invoice stuffed through the doors of The Lion’s Den (Hmm. That doesn’t work as well as “Em³ Acres”, does it?)

G. R. Denner
01999 666666

WE CALL AGAIN WHEN
WE GET SOME RAIN AND GRASS
START GROWING

Ah, bless him - he’s trying to use English

I was later home because I’d called in Chez Stubby en route. Not for any romantic entanglement, more’s the pity, but rather to help her install a training package on the laptop she’s borrowing (I’d only given her basic access - I’m not daft - and the software needed to be installed by an administrator).

Late, too, because of the newly increased travel time. No longer am I working in Slurry Street but, rather, on the opposite side of the city centre, 1.2 miles rather than 1.2 metres from the bus station. Still, it’s a very pleasant walk to the new orifice and - even better - the orifice is air conditioned. Ah, bliss.

As I had to return to the centre of the city in the noonday sun I took a couple of snaps of the area - I am most pleased with the apparent photo opportunities this change of location brings. I was also surprised to find some other snaps taken over the last couple of weeks that I’d forgotten to download.

Not good.

My router’s stopped recognising my networked drives.

I don’t think it’s related to last night’s thunderstorm. In fact I’m not even sure if it’s the router or the drives that have the problem.

Anyway, I woke bright and early this morning. Too early, in fact, so I went back to sleep after re-setting the alarm for 8:30. That would give me 90 minutes to shower, shave, have breakfast and hoover before The Lady arrived at 10.

Don’t get excited - this wasn’t a romantic event. I’d agreed to take part in a survey thing.

Any way, next thing I knew the doorbell was ringing for my attention. Who’s that calling before 8:30? Ooh - could be the postie with a present for me! I dragged on a pair of trews and stumbled down the stairs. Opening the door gingerly, I was amazed to see The Lady there.

“Oh no! It’s not 10 o’clock, is it?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Err. Hang on - I’ll just put a top on.”

A couple of minutes later and I was opening the door again and ushering The Lady in with apologies over the state of the carpet.

I like doing surveys. I’m a panel member on yougov.com, for example, and there’s a nice cheque on its way to me shortly as the pay you to take surveys. No really, they do. This was a long one, though, and my stomach was shouting by the end of it all.

“Would you like to get something to eat?”, asked The Lady at one point. I’m fairly sure this wasn’t an invitation to a dinner-date.

Anyway, showered and fed I set off for Norwhag to get my specs fixed. Following ‘im oop nawth’s suggestion I went to Boots first and explained my predicament. She looked at the specs and explained they couldn’t do anything to help but suggested an independent optician who “does funny little fixes” … but is shut at weekends.

Next door was a Vision Express shop. I explained my predicament. They took my specs away and returned two minutes later with them fixed. Thumbs up to Vision Express, then.

My task complete, I returned home to potter online, trying to get a snazzy new site working (I’ll explain later, once it’s working). Shazza and Stubby were both off to barbeques this afternoon (separate barbeques, I should clarify). Neither was interested in my accompanying them and I’ve worked out why (at long last): although I am obviously a babe magnet, I’ve got my poles the wrong way round.

And that was my exciting Saturday. How was yours?

Saturday morning culture class

Karl Yoder’s Guide To Painting

Explore more of Karl’s work here.

Help!

My spectacles are falling apart - one of the few bits of metalwork has snapped and I just know they’re not going to last long.
Can anyone recommend an optician which can provide a very quick pair of specs from my existing lenses? I don’t fancy a 900 mile round trip next weekend without specs!

35 hours and counting

As I mentioned in an earlier post, after a brief bout of standing at 6:30 am or so, I actually woke “properly” around 11am yesterday morning.

This means that - as I type this - I’ve been awake for almost 35 hours as last night was just too hot and sticky to sleep, even with the fan on full power.

So very, very, very tired.

Oh, and I’m admitting defeat with Stubby. It’s clear she’s just not interested. Yoo-hoo, Shazza ….

Wrong again

Only this afternoon I was bemoaning my lack of amphibians in the garden this year.

“I think I let the pond get too low so the frogs must have gone elsewhere,” I moaned.

“Never mind -you’ve got a moorhen.” I may have mentioned this once or twice.

I agreed … but I was wrong.

This evening brought a deliciously cool, refreshing downpour (with suitably spectacular audio-visual accompaniment) and the downpour woke The Frogs. Thousands¹ of them were fleeing the pond and making for the opposite side of the garden (for reasons I don’t really understand).

Happy as I was to have my own moorhen (who’s still here, by the way), now I’m an even happier lion. A moorhen and frogs. Jealous?

¹ Ok, about a dozen if you want to be accurate.

It’s all too much

When’s this darned weather going to break?

I’ve just taxed the car

“So what?” you ask.

Well, I did it from the comfort of my sofa using the new online option. No more ripping the house apart looking for the insurance or the MOT. No wasting an hour in the post office. It’s an absolute doddle.

It’s not often I praise the bureaucracy of this country but just for once they’ve done an excellent job.

Now let’s see if it arrives in time …