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Well, that explains a lot about Kairdiff, and I can see why it’s been referred to as “Doctor Who for adults”. There’s no way that’s ever going to be shown pre-watershed.
Interesting use of local slang (I’m assuming that “mullah’d” to mean “extremely drunk” is most decidedly a Torchwood Town word as it’s not what’s listed in the urban dictionary).
Shopping yesterday morning for a tumble drier for Chez Pops - getting his clothes clean over a weekend will be nigh on impossible this winter without one. Not my idea, so full credit to Wuglums for that.
I managed to browbeat Currys into delivering it tomorrow, which is convenient. They rang me today to say it’ll be between 2 and 6 pm, which is less convenient. It’ll be 5:55pm, then, won’t it?
Still, at least this gives me time in the morning to get Dad a birthday card and, more importantly, birthday cake and drop them off at Chateau Llandough before returning here to wait and wait and wait.
The Wee TImorous Beastie is proving to be quite a hit with the ladies. Unfortunately none of them seems to be noticing the driver. Oh well. The little girl in Halfords yesterday seemed about to explode in excitement at the sight of the WTB (but then she was small enough to use it as a “normal” car - I’ve established it’s impossible to climb out gracefully when the roof’s up. In fact, it’s not that easy to get in when the roof’s up.
My Torchwood woe has been salved - the first two episodes are being repeated on Tuesday night (10:30 - 00:10 on BBC Three again). Now, do I watch it tonight “live” or wait until Tuesday … ?
No pics from this weekend. Well, just the one then, if you insist, as the weather’s been absolutely foul.
Driving across Torchwood Town this afternoon was a lot of fun in a low-slung sporty number as the water mains just couldn’t cope with the sheer volume of rain. Oh well - at least the underside of the car’s as clean as the top now.
Geren and Donna are off on a trip to Maine and are blogging about it at Blather de la Semaine.
The reason I mention this is that the 27th National (sic) Narrow Gauge Convention is in Portland, Maine, next August.
I really must book that hotel room and investigate flights. The only thing is, how long do I go for? This is almost certainly going to be my main (if not only) holiday of 2007 so I don’t want it cut too short.
Decisions, decisions.
Anyway, in the meantime please enjoy Geren and Donna’s fabulous photos.
Notes
1. The driving yesterday was a bit of a nightmare. Aaalburgh to Chez Daisy took three hours (rather than the two and a quarter TomTom had forecast - a figure which seems perfectly reasonable to me). If you think that was bad, though, wait until you hear about the second half of the trip! I left Chez Daisy just after 7:30, allowing plenty of time for me to get to Chez Pops in time to watch QI at 10:30. Or so I thought. TomTom agreed - it told me I’d arrive at 10:13. Then we hit the M4. It was slow. 10:13 became 10:20. Then 10:32. Then the M4 virtually stopped and TomTom just gave up. It told me I would arrive in Torchwood Town on Wednesday.
I nipped off at the next junction with the intention of bypassing whatever was causing the blockage by nipping around it. This I managed. Yes, it took a while but I’d rather be whizzing along some backroads than spending the same amount of time crawling along at 8mph.
I know I took the same time because shortly after I rejoined a moving flow of traffic, I was passed by a Smart car which I’d been just behind before I turned off (the registration had stuck in the mind being SP0…RTZ).
I finally pulled into the driveway at Chez Pops a five to midnight, more than an hour and a half later than planned.
2. Torchwood starts tomorrow evening.
“I know“, I’d thought to myself. “I’ll set my Sky+ to record it.”
I forgot.
“I know“, I though to myself. “I’ve seen the advert about switching on your Sky+ box via your mobile phone. I’ll register and do that.”
First question: Enter your Sky viewing card number.
Bugger.
The website suggests allowing 30 minutes before the programme starts to give yourself time to register your handset. I’d suggest that if you’ve got your viewing card to hand to be able to register, you can also set your box up at the same time so why would you do so using your mobile?!
I have been licked to within 2.54cm of my life. My route to Kardiff took me within walkies distance of Daisy (and daisy) so it would have been rude not to pop in and help Daisy (or possibly daisy) install Webserver-on-a-stick and backup websites - which was not as straightforward as I’d expected. In fact, by the time we’d got it working it was dark and the plans for a photosafari had to be postponed.
The lack of light explains the multi-filtered effect on the portait of daisy, btw. Here’s the original, in case anyone’s interested.
There’s a vacancy in our team which is generating a fair amount of interest. One person expressing interest (we’ll call her Siân) currently works with Kitten who, when Tall Andy mentioned this in passing, announced “You’re not employing her.”
How intriguing.
My assumption was thar Siân is a saucy young temptress who Kitten wants to keep as far as possible from her husband (not realised that she’d be more likely to fall for me anyway). We were to find out this afternoon as Siân had asked to pay us a visit before deciding whether to apply.
All I can say is that Siân wasn’t exactly as I’d imagined her. A nice enough young lady, I hasten to add. Just not the temptress I’d imagined.
Mind you, she’d have caught her death of cold if she had been ….
While I’m off to Torchwood Town tomorrow for a long weekend (Dad’s birthday on Monday), Tall Andy’s off to sunny Sri Lanka.
“Sam” sent a sweet text message (he’s a clever scary baby):
I am sure you will but please call in or phone me and mummy while daddy is away. as you know mum wont ask! dads off tomorrow till the 30th Tarl Iove Sam x
My reply was less sweet:
By the time you return, Andy, Sam will be speaking Welsh.
I answered an “anonymous call” on my mobile late yesterday afternoon. It was Lucy, one of the nurses caring for Dad.
“Hello. This is ‘Lucille’ at the hospital.”
“Ah, hello there.” She’s clearly going to ask me for a date this weekend, I thought.
“Will you be coming in today?”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“That would be rather difficult. I’m in Norwhag.”
“Norwhag?!”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Why? I’ll be there at the weekend”
“Would you speak to your father?”
It seems he was just a little confused about the day of the week and the nurses have learned that letting him chat to me calms him down (and gives them a brief break). He seemed happy enough once I’d clarified that it was Tuesday, not Saturday - why the nurses couldn’t have told him this I don’t know.
I did manage to meet up with another elderly and easily confused person, though, in the person of my most indecisive commenter - she’s had more changes of pseudonym than I have on my blogs - because Lucy Lastik was in town on business and had hinted about wanting a spin in the Beastie. I collected her last night from the hotel, then, and we went for a short trip around the lanes - Lucy’d brought the rain down with her, though, and so didn’t get the topless experience.
This morning Lucy turned up at my desk and gave me a book she’d bought for the flight down - Lynne Truss’s “Talk to the hand”.
“It’s about rudeness”
“You think I need a book about rudeness?!”
“Well, no.”
I spotted the subtitle: “The Utter Bloody Rudeness of Everyday Life (or six good reasons to stay home and bolt the door)”
“Again, are sure it’s wise that I have this?”
Oh well, I have it now. If I “disappear” you know who to blame.
Speaking of trusses, it was badminton night tonight. I’d shelled out for an elbow brace to reduce the strain on (not surprisingly) my elbow/forearm. It does seem to have helped with the pain (although not with my game - I lost three out of four matches tonight) but we’ll have to wait until the morning to see whether the arm’s any better than usual.