Cock - a doodle - two
Today Cocky gave birth to girl twins
5lbs 11oz & 6lbs 11oz
Will you be able to ride soon now Linda ?
Cx
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Monday, February 28, 2005
Friday in pictures
On Friday I awoke at 1200, relished that wonderful feeling of knowing I had no work for 5 days & lots of socialising planned. I hopped out of bed (I only hop out of bed on rest days. There's no hopping on work days)
I walked into Kingston to get a ickle something for Weeny.
'Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Wee-eeny,
Happy Birthday to you'
The Thames looked like this
I then headed off to the stables. As I turned up I was told
'Take your pick'
Naturally, I picked CB. We swaddled ourselves up & off we went.
We saw this.
And this.
Then in the evening I went out and saw this.
And this
I wasn't sure, but I have the photos to prove it, so I must have.
Cx
On Friday I awoke at 1200, relished that wonderful feeling of knowing I had no work for 5 days & lots of socialising planned. I hopped out of bed (I only hop out of bed on rest days. There's no hopping on work days)
I walked into Kingston to get a ickle something for Weeny.
'Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Wee-eeny,
Happy Birthday to you'
I then headed off to the stables. As I turned up I was told
Naturally, I picked CB. We swaddled ourselves up & off we went.
I wasn't sure, but I have the photos to prove it, so I must have.
Cx
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Today in pictures
My 4th consecutive day of riding in the snow.
Neddies in their duvies. This is how CB looked when I arrived today.
'Oi donkey-lugs'
With apologies to sensitive souls, this was bizarre sight of the day.
I'm no Poirot but it looked to me like Bambi didn't notice the wire fence, ran through it & neatly garrotted itself. Apologies for the poor quality of the shot but you try for clarity & definition on a petrified neddy who's wheelspinning & moonwalking trying to get away from the 'VERY SCARY DEAD THING'
It took us 8 minutes to pluck up the nerve to charge past :)
Tea-time
My favourite image of the day, take a good look, this is what you're all getting as a Christmas card this year.
I call this shot
'When diggers love too much'
Should have seen the funny looks I got from passing motorists whilst taking this. Like no-one ever takes pictures of diggers.
D-Man when I next come a-travelling, I'll steal the digger & we'll combine our fantasies & act out your plans for the 'improvement' of Dorkland.
Night duty ; 5 down, 2 to go.
Cx
My 4th consecutive day of riding in the snow.
I'm no Poirot but it looked to me like Bambi didn't notice the wire fence, ran through it & neatly garrotted itself. Apologies for the poor quality of the shot but you try for clarity & definition on a petrified neddy who's wheelspinning & moonwalking trying to get away from the 'VERY SCARY DEAD THING'
It took us 8 minutes to pluck up the nerve to charge past :)
My favourite image of the day, take a good look, this is what you're all getting as a Christmas card this year.
I call this shot
Should have seen the funny looks I got from passing motorists whilst taking this. Like no-one ever takes pictures of diggers.
D-Man when I next come a-travelling, I'll steal the digger & we'll combine our fantasies & act out your plans for the 'improvement' of Dorkland.
Night duty ; 5 down, 2 to go.
Cx
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Why yes, thank you Milky NZ, I am
Compromise, Neddies, Ken, Music & Stupid chavs
Location : Bedroom
Time : 1842
Listening to : Radio 4 1830 Weekday Comedy Half Hour :
Giles Wembley Hogg. Very funny.
I have been blogging – honest. It’s just it has been for medicinal purposes & not for public consumption. The story won’t see the light of day unless I end up blissfully married with his kids. See, it’s not just Bloo who can drop in controversial titbits ?
The following won’t make much sense except to one person & he’s trained never to tell secrets, but I’m going to tell the rest of you anyway. If it doesn’t make any sense just do what you do with Stan’s blog, skip the words & look at the pics. ‘Cept there aren’t any.
My New Year’s Resolution wasn’t having the desired effect, it was making me feel worse rather then better so I did the c-word. The one I hate doing. Yup – compromise. I’m not saying I can’t compromise about the little, getting-on-with-your-flatmate-type stuff, cos I can. The fact that the kitchen bin is never closed properly hardly fazes me. Much.
No, the stuff I have trouble compromising about is the ‘big stuff’, you know feelings & gurls stuff. I am aware that last sentence contains 3 ‘stuffs’, it’s not that I lack a thesaurus, it just has to be that word. A situation wasn’t panning out & so I took my bat home. I’ve now brought my bat back & said it’s better if we play with slightly different rules than no cricket at all. Clear ? Excellent.
Neddies
I’m currently nights & was planning to ride straight after work every morning at 0630. The 1st night of snow & ice put paid to that & beesies was infinitely more tempting than neddies. Beesies with electric blankie proved ultimately irresistible. In one of those welcome quirks of fate, fortune did not favour the brave because by the time I awoke at 1400 to ride the stunning scene outside my bedroom window rivalled anything from a glittery Christmas card.
The snow was whirling, thick & luscious & it carried on all afternoon.
I have now ridden 3 consecutive times in the snow & feel very Scott about it all.
The funniest ride was my returning journey from the Downs with CB yesterday. CB has very large ears & the combination of snow, mixed with hailstones bouncing off his lugs was really disconcerting for him. He tried them at every possible angle, failing dismally to protect them. In the end, he allowed them to flop at right angles from his head, resembling furry motorbike handles.
Once he was stabled, dried off, rugged up & had his tea, I pottered off to the tack room, cleaned his tack & made myself a mug of soup. I elected to sit in his stable with him so that we could eat together. He alternated between sticking his nose in my mug to see if neddies would like soup & jealously guarding his hay from me, in case I tried to steal any.
Sitting in the warm, fresh shavings, watching the snow madly swirling outside, sipping hot soup, whilst a huge, gently steaming horse munched loudly on his hay, was the visceral highlight of my week so far.
Today I took Hannah up to the Downs, & in the way that only she can be, she was terrible. At first she minced along, taking ridiculous tiny pony steps & staring at everything goggle-eyed. She was busy trying to convince me she had never seen this bizarre white stuff which persisted in falling on her. Failing to be moved by her plight I explained patiently & firmly that ‘no’ we were not turning for home & ‘yes’ I did expect her to behave as if the snow wasn’t there.
By the time we arrived on the Downs my thighs were screaming in protest from hanging on grimly as she pranced & cavorted in her best approximation of a trot. By the time we arrived at the sand track between the trees where I had cantered on previous days with Snippet (albeit very spiritedly) & CB, I had decided discretion was the better part of valour & hacked her off mightily by not allowing her to canter but recommending that we ‘steady … trot’ instead.
I don’t use the word recommend lightly with Hannah. She is so very flighty & resentful of heavy-handed instruction that she will take it upon herself to unceremoniously dump a rider who thinks they can order her to do something. Riding her is a continual balance between her demanding to be allowed to do unacceptable things & me suggesting that perhaps we might try this way instead ? I’ve just re-read that last paragraph & recognised myself. No wonder I like Hannah as much as I do.
Ken
For overseas readers, here’s a precis.
Ken Livingstone is the Mayor for London. He was chucked out of the Labour party a while ago, despite being back in now, is extremely militant & has hacked off millions of Londoners by introducing a £5 congestion charge to drive into London. I love the congestion charge because I never drive to London, it’s free for motorcycles, and the last time I took a bike up there, London looked as it should, the only vehicles on the streets being buses, taxis, vans & couriers.
I used to feel fairly apathetic towards Ken, but all that has changed in the last couple of weeks. The long & short of it is that whilst leaving a social event, he was repeatedly asked for an interview by an Evening Standard journalist. He declined to do the interview & once riled, told the journalist (who was Jewish) that he was ‘just like a concentration camp guard’
I’m not going to comment on what he said to the journalist other than to make light of the Holocaust by comparing anything that occurred then to a journalist now, was frankly foolish.
It’s what has happened since that really gets my goat. As a Capricorn you have to know I don’t choose that phrase lightly. I am incensed by this mania we have in the UK for demanding apologies. People like Ken say something controversial & all of a sudden the nameless hordes start baying for blood. It seriously pi55es me off. Where does the Daily Mail (sister paper to the Standard) get off, telling us what to think ?
Ken has refused to apologise to the journalist. He has said to do so would be hypocritical since he is not in any way contrite & I say good on you Ken. He has however, apologised to London’s Jewish community for any offence caused & there the matter should be left.
It seems to me that people in prominence get where they are & stay there by treading the middle line & apologising left, right & centre for every slight, imagined or otherwise. So I’m going to stick my neck out & say that’s why I admire people like Maggie Thatcher & Boris Johnson. They are human, they make errors, but damned if they’re going to snivel to all & sundry looking for permission to live. Sod that. They stick to their guns & say unpopular things & live & die by the consequences. Let’s all do the same why don’t we ?
Quick break to inhale & exhale from a brown paper bag.
Music – the gift that keeps on giving.
We’ve all made up tapes for ourselves haven’t we ? A selection of tracks guaranteed to make you feel good ? Isn’t it wonderful when someone does it for you & gets it so completely right ?
A perceptive person noticed I have been going through the motions lately & compiled a CD for me. I was given it with strict instructions to listen to it all the way through & it would make sense. Here’s the thing - it does.
At first the music holds your hand & says ‘Boy – your life sure is tough isn’t it ?’ It then invites you to sit down & strokes your eyebrows whilst listening to how unfair everything is. Initially all the tracks are low, percussive, hypnotic & almost ambient, requiring very little in the way of auditory effort.
Next come a salvo of tracks which empathise & provide examples of how just a little volume can help.
After that the music asks if maybe you feel strong enough to drag yourself from the sofa. ‘Come on’ it says ‘look – it’s possible’.
Once you’re up & about come a few slightly more rowdy songs, by now you’re smiling & wondering if you’ve time to go for that run.
Towards the end everything’s, anthemic, uplifting & pure kick-ass ‘show them you’re not going to take any crap’. Track 11 is Linkin Park & by now you know this CD is going to hog your player for months.
Just when you thought it had ended, there’s a ‘hidden track’ at 22, and it features lyrics which would stand alone as poetry.
Perfect.
Thank you.
Stupid chavs
Night duty funny of the week so far ? The pi55ed girl who asked her friend to drive because she was drunk. Friend (who is also under the affluence) promptly stacks the car at speed into the front wall of a pub. The owner of the car then gets in & drives the car away from the pub.
Net result = 2 arrested for drink drive. It’s too good to be made up isn’t ?
Cx
Compromise, Neddies, Ken, Music & Stupid chavs
Location : Bedroom
Time : 1842
Listening to : Radio 4 1830 Weekday Comedy Half Hour :
Giles Wembley Hogg. Very funny.
I have been blogging – honest. It’s just it has been for medicinal purposes & not for public consumption. The story won’t see the light of day unless I end up blissfully married with his kids. See, it’s not just Bloo who can drop in controversial titbits ?
The following won’t make much sense except to one person & he’s trained never to tell secrets, but I’m going to tell the rest of you anyway. If it doesn’t make any sense just do what you do with Stan’s blog, skip the words & look at the pics. ‘Cept there aren’t any.
My New Year’s Resolution wasn’t having the desired effect, it was making me feel worse rather then better so I did the c-word. The one I hate doing. Yup – compromise. I’m not saying I can’t compromise about the little, getting-on-with-your-flatmate-type stuff, cos I can. The fact that the kitchen bin is never closed properly hardly fazes me. Much.
No, the stuff I have trouble compromising about is the ‘big stuff’, you know feelings & gurls stuff. I am aware that last sentence contains 3 ‘stuffs’, it’s not that I lack a thesaurus, it just has to be that word. A situation wasn’t panning out & so I took my bat home. I’ve now brought my bat back & said it’s better if we play with slightly different rules than no cricket at all. Clear ? Excellent.
Neddies
I’m currently nights & was planning to ride straight after work every morning at 0630. The 1st night of snow & ice put paid to that & beesies was infinitely more tempting than neddies. Beesies with electric blankie proved ultimately irresistible. In one of those welcome quirks of fate, fortune did not favour the brave because by the time I awoke at 1400 to ride the stunning scene outside my bedroom window rivalled anything from a glittery Christmas card.
The snow was whirling, thick & luscious & it carried on all afternoon.
I have now ridden 3 consecutive times in the snow & feel very Scott about it all.
The funniest ride was my returning journey from the Downs with CB yesterday. CB has very large ears & the combination of snow, mixed with hailstones bouncing off his lugs was really disconcerting for him. He tried them at every possible angle, failing dismally to protect them. In the end, he allowed them to flop at right angles from his head, resembling furry motorbike handles.
Once he was stabled, dried off, rugged up & had his tea, I pottered off to the tack room, cleaned his tack & made myself a mug of soup. I elected to sit in his stable with him so that we could eat together. He alternated between sticking his nose in my mug to see if neddies would like soup & jealously guarding his hay from me, in case I tried to steal any.
Sitting in the warm, fresh shavings, watching the snow madly swirling outside, sipping hot soup, whilst a huge, gently steaming horse munched loudly on his hay, was the visceral highlight of my week so far.
Today I took Hannah up to the Downs, & in the way that only she can be, she was terrible. At first she minced along, taking ridiculous tiny pony steps & staring at everything goggle-eyed. She was busy trying to convince me she had never seen this bizarre white stuff which persisted in falling on her. Failing to be moved by her plight I explained patiently & firmly that ‘no’ we were not turning for home & ‘yes’ I did expect her to behave as if the snow wasn’t there.
By the time we arrived on the Downs my thighs were screaming in protest from hanging on grimly as she pranced & cavorted in her best approximation of a trot. By the time we arrived at the sand track between the trees where I had cantered on previous days with Snippet (albeit very spiritedly) & CB, I had decided discretion was the better part of valour & hacked her off mightily by not allowing her to canter but recommending that we ‘steady … trot’ instead.
I don’t use the word recommend lightly with Hannah. She is so very flighty & resentful of heavy-handed instruction that she will take it upon herself to unceremoniously dump a rider who thinks they can order her to do something. Riding her is a continual balance between her demanding to be allowed to do unacceptable things & me suggesting that perhaps we might try this way instead ? I’ve just re-read that last paragraph & recognised myself. No wonder I like Hannah as much as I do.
Ken
For overseas readers, here’s a precis.
Ken Livingstone is the Mayor for London. He was chucked out of the Labour party a while ago, despite being back in now, is extremely militant & has hacked off millions of Londoners by introducing a £5 congestion charge to drive into London. I love the congestion charge because I never drive to London, it’s free for motorcycles, and the last time I took a bike up there, London looked as it should, the only vehicles on the streets being buses, taxis, vans & couriers.
I used to feel fairly apathetic towards Ken, but all that has changed in the last couple of weeks. The long & short of it is that whilst leaving a social event, he was repeatedly asked for an interview by an Evening Standard journalist. He declined to do the interview & once riled, told the journalist (who was Jewish) that he was ‘just like a concentration camp guard’
I’m not going to comment on what he said to the journalist other than to make light of the Holocaust by comparing anything that occurred then to a journalist now, was frankly foolish.
It’s what has happened since that really gets my goat. As a Capricorn you have to know I don’t choose that phrase lightly. I am incensed by this mania we have in the UK for demanding apologies. People like Ken say something controversial & all of a sudden the nameless hordes start baying for blood. It seriously pi55es me off. Where does the Daily Mail (sister paper to the Standard) get off, telling us what to think ?
Ken has refused to apologise to the journalist. He has said to do so would be hypocritical since he is not in any way contrite & I say good on you Ken. He has however, apologised to London’s Jewish community for any offence caused & there the matter should be left.
It seems to me that people in prominence get where they are & stay there by treading the middle line & apologising left, right & centre for every slight, imagined or otherwise. So I’m going to stick my neck out & say that’s why I admire people like Maggie Thatcher & Boris Johnson. They are human, they make errors, but damned if they’re going to snivel to all & sundry looking for permission to live. Sod that. They stick to their guns & say unpopular things & live & die by the consequences. Let’s all do the same why don’t we ?
Quick break to inhale & exhale from a brown paper bag.
Music – the gift that keeps on giving.
We’ve all made up tapes for ourselves haven’t we ? A selection of tracks guaranteed to make you feel good ? Isn’t it wonderful when someone does it for you & gets it so completely right ?
A perceptive person noticed I have been going through the motions lately & compiled a CD for me. I was given it with strict instructions to listen to it all the way through & it would make sense. Here’s the thing - it does.
At first the music holds your hand & says ‘Boy – your life sure is tough isn’t it ?’ It then invites you to sit down & strokes your eyebrows whilst listening to how unfair everything is. Initially all the tracks are low, percussive, hypnotic & almost ambient, requiring very little in the way of auditory effort.
Next come a salvo of tracks which empathise & provide examples of how just a little volume can help.
After that the music asks if maybe you feel strong enough to drag yourself from the sofa. ‘Come on’ it says ‘look – it’s possible’.
Once you’re up & about come a few slightly more rowdy songs, by now you’re smiling & wondering if you’ve time to go for that run.
Towards the end everything’s, anthemic, uplifting & pure kick-ass ‘show them you’re not going to take any crap’. Track 11 is Linkin Park & by now you know this CD is going to hog your player for months.
Just when you thought it had ended, there’s a ‘hidden track’ at 22, and it features lyrics which would stand alone as poetry.
Perfect.
Thank you.
Stupid chavs
Night duty funny of the week so far ? The pi55ed girl who asked her friend to drive because she was drunk. Friend (who is also under the affluence) promptly stacks the car at speed into the front wall of a pub. The owner of the car then gets in & drives the car away from the pub.
Net result = 2 arrested for drink drive. It’s too good to be made up isn’t ?
Cx
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Friday, February 11, 2005
‘Snot & awe …’
Time spent continuously in bed : 42 hours
Foodstuffs consumed : Horlicks, lemon squash, chicken soup, Beechams Flu & Cold relief & Veno’s cough mixture (very good when mixed together, but don’t plan on walking anywhere because you can’t feel your legs)
Symptoms : Nausea upon standing, squashed head in a vice upon laying, headache, earache, joint-ache, too sweaty under the duvy, too cold out of it, barking cough, bleeding sore throat (not in an Essex girl way, but bleeding from too much coughing) & a snotty nose. And spotty legs. (I don’t know ?)
Positions attempted trying to get comfortable : 6,742
Number of times pillows turned whilst attempting to replicate someone with lovely, cool ‘pastry’ hands smoothing my forehead : 349
Reading matter : Old copies of Horse & Hound.
Dental problems : None (in case anyone was still confused)
As someone who rarely gets ill, I was surprised to find myself honking lavishly & copiously before late-turn parade on Tuesday. I put it down to feeling a bit emotional & made it onto parade, pasty-white & sweating & 5 minutes late.
Being the fabulously proficient martyr that I am I did the whole late turn brushing aside the Guv’nor’s entreaties for me to ‘go home.’
‘Nay Guv’nor tis but a flesh wound’
After no sleep thanks to feverish, sweaty nightmares about Milky’s court case (which I dreamt I stuffed up due to a typing oversight) it became apparent in the morning that I officially had a cold.
I didn’t start to feel human again until yesterday afternoon after a bath. Hating to miss anything which happens on a rest day, I promptly headed off into town to meet the team for a drink-up.
It was a good turn-out as well, though, as ever, the numbers who made it onto Oceana were somewhat depleted. We were even joined by 3 ‘normal’ people in the shape of Colin’s friend Mark, Laura’s friend Serena & Milky’s friend Jim.
It’s always the way isn’t it that when you emphasise just how good something is to someone & how it’s ALWAYS good, it just isn’t, the next time you do it. And so it was with Oceana & what we had promised to Jim.
Immediately we arrived, Andy had a disagreement with the bouncer over acceptable footwear & had to go home. Andy thought trainers acceptable, the bouncers didn’t. If you’re reading this mate, there were lots of blokes wearing trainers inside. Does that help ?
It was with high expectations that Jim was ushered inside & we confidently whisked him through ‘the cheese-room’ & on towards the r & b room. Only to find our way barred by a velvet rope. Turns out the r & b room was closed. Bugger. So with heavy hearts we turned back to the cheese-room, the music here is never quite fast enough & never quite loud enough.
The dance-floor was populated by the sick, the lame & the dead.
The blokes were all short & fat & the ‘girls’ were … well …
My personal favourite was dressed in an outfit that resembled an elongated black boob tube. It commenced just above her nipples & ended just below her buttock cheeks. If this sounds sexy, I promise you it wasn’t, because her body shape resembled a toilet roll inner. No in’s, no out’s, no … anything really. She must have been too warm & had dispensed with her underwear & her dancing was, how shall I describe it ? Enthusiastic.
To replicate the dancing I would like you do the following :
March very rapidly on the spot, to no discernible beat whilst turning your knees out as you raise them to waist height. Hold your arms aloft in a manner slightly reminiscent of an aggressive football fan & at random intervals punch both arms in the air simultaneously. Be very careful to make sure your arm & leg movements never correspond. Every now & then tug vaguely at your hem, dragging your dress down to cover your ‘downstairs’ modesty, until your frantic marching makes it ride up again.
Need I tell you that Milky, Jim & I positioned ourselves where we would get the best view & dared each other to go & dance with her ?
Some of the other ladies were the 50 year old Cher lookee-likee with her fags tucked in her mini-skirt. Classy. Or at least Phil thought so. There was also, the rhomboid shaped lady with no neck who was enamoured of leopard-print nylon. Then there were the 2 tall people. What are the odds against the 2 tallest people there hooking up & finding neither one had any rhythm ? Life can be so harsh.
I sulked for most of the evening, finding it impossible to dance to anything except 1 track by Usher but Jim & Milky had no such reservations. They boogied, they pranced, they did the eyebrow thing (actually that was just Jim) They postured, they shimmied & they tangoed. I kid you not, I have photographic evidence. I came to the conclusion they would enjoy themselves in an empty room.
'And this week's couple in 'Strictly Come Dancing are ...'
'What do you mean chicks DON'T dig scars ?'
'The eyebrow thing' Easy ladies.
Tomorrow it’s early turn again. I’m going to read this week’s Horse & Hound & make myself some dinner. I’d usually have an early night before earlies but I’m sick of being in bed & I never thought I’d say that.
I’ll leave you with this, which I thing you’ll agree needs only one title
‘Caption Competition’
Cx
Time spent continuously in bed : 42 hours
Foodstuffs consumed : Horlicks, lemon squash, chicken soup, Beechams Flu & Cold relief & Veno’s cough mixture (very good when mixed together, but don’t plan on walking anywhere because you can’t feel your legs)
Symptoms : Nausea upon standing, squashed head in a vice upon laying, headache, earache, joint-ache, too sweaty under the duvy, too cold out of it, barking cough, bleeding sore throat (not in an Essex girl way, but bleeding from too much coughing) & a snotty nose. And spotty legs. (I don’t know ?)
Positions attempted trying to get comfortable : 6,742
Number of times pillows turned whilst attempting to replicate someone with lovely, cool ‘pastry’ hands smoothing my forehead : 349
Reading matter : Old copies of Horse & Hound.
Dental problems : None (in case anyone was still confused)
As someone who rarely gets ill, I was surprised to find myself honking lavishly & copiously before late-turn parade on Tuesday. I put it down to feeling a bit emotional & made it onto parade, pasty-white & sweating & 5 minutes late.
Being the fabulously proficient martyr that I am I did the whole late turn brushing aside the Guv’nor’s entreaties for me to ‘go home.’
‘Nay Guv’nor tis but a flesh wound’
After no sleep thanks to feverish, sweaty nightmares about Milky’s court case (which I dreamt I stuffed up due to a typing oversight) it became apparent in the morning that I officially had a cold.
I didn’t start to feel human again until yesterday afternoon after a bath. Hating to miss anything which happens on a rest day, I promptly headed off into town to meet the team for a drink-up.
It was a good turn-out as well, though, as ever, the numbers who made it onto Oceana were somewhat depleted. We were even joined by 3 ‘normal’ people in the shape of Colin’s friend Mark, Laura’s friend Serena & Milky’s friend Jim.
It’s always the way isn’t it that when you emphasise just how good something is to someone & how it’s ALWAYS good, it just isn’t, the next time you do it. And so it was with Oceana & what we had promised to Jim.
Immediately we arrived, Andy had a disagreement with the bouncer over acceptable footwear & had to go home. Andy thought trainers acceptable, the bouncers didn’t. If you’re reading this mate, there were lots of blokes wearing trainers inside. Does that help ?
It was with high expectations that Jim was ushered inside & we confidently whisked him through ‘the cheese-room’ & on towards the r & b room. Only to find our way barred by a velvet rope. Turns out the r & b room was closed. Bugger. So with heavy hearts we turned back to the cheese-room, the music here is never quite fast enough & never quite loud enough.
The dance-floor was populated by the sick, the lame & the dead.
The blokes were all short & fat & the ‘girls’ were … well …
My personal favourite was dressed in an outfit that resembled an elongated black boob tube. It commenced just above her nipples & ended just below her buttock cheeks. If this sounds sexy, I promise you it wasn’t, because her body shape resembled a toilet roll inner. No in’s, no out’s, no … anything really. She must have been too warm & had dispensed with her underwear & her dancing was, how shall I describe it ? Enthusiastic.
To replicate the dancing I would like you do the following :
March very rapidly on the spot, to no discernible beat whilst turning your knees out as you raise them to waist height. Hold your arms aloft in a manner slightly reminiscent of an aggressive football fan & at random intervals punch both arms in the air simultaneously. Be very careful to make sure your arm & leg movements never correspond. Every now & then tug vaguely at your hem, dragging your dress down to cover your ‘downstairs’ modesty, until your frantic marching makes it ride up again.
Need I tell you that Milky, Jim & I positioned ourselves where we would get the best view & dared each other to go & dance with her ?
Some of the other ladies were the 50 year old Cher lookee-likee with her fags tucked in her mini-skirt. Classy. Or at least Phil thought so. There was also, the rhomboid shaped lady with no neck who was enamoured of leopard-print nylon. Then there were the 2 tall people. What are the odds against the 2 tallest people there hooking up & finding neither one had any rhythm ? Life can be so harsh.
I sulked for most of the evening, finding it impossible to dance to anything except 1 track by Usher but Jim & Milky had no such reservations. They boogied, they pranced, they did the eyebrow thing (actually that was just Jim) They postured, they shimmied & they tangoed. I kid you not, I have photographic evidence. I came to the conclusion they would enjoy themselves in an empty room.
Tomorrow it’s early turn again. I’m going to read this week’s Horse & Hound & make myself some dinner. I’d usually have an early night before earlies but I’m sick of being in bed & I never thought I’d say that.
I’ll leave you with this, which I thing you’ll agree needs only one title
Cx
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Loose tooth.
Remember how it felt to have a loose tooth as a kid ?
Partly it was a pleasurable experience.
It was all-consuming & distracted you whilst you were supposed to be concentrating in lessons.
You spent hours prodding it with your tongue, moving it this way & that. Even the slight pain that came with moving it around was bearable because at the end of the pain was the anticipation of the tooth fairy & that 50 pence piece.
After the tooth was gone, the hole it left felt chasm-like. Your tongue would unerringly find the hole reminding you of what used to be there. Time goes quickly when you’re a child and you forgot quickly.
I wish there were tooth fairies for grown-ups.
Cx
Remember how it felt to have a loose tooth as a kid ?
Partly it was a pleasurable experience.
It was all-consuming & distracted you whilst you were supposed to be concentrating in lessons.
You spent hours prodding it with your tongue, moving it this way & that. Even the slight pain that came with moving it around was bearable because at the end of the pain was the anticipation of the tooth fairy & that 50 pence piece.
After the tooth was gone, the hole it left felt chasm-like. Your tongue would unerringly find the hole reminding you of what used to be there. Time goes quickly when you’re a child and you forgot quickly.
I wish there were tooth fairies for grown-ups.
Cx
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Pound of flesh
For reasons I know you wil understand I can't go into details, suffice it to say the lowlife who attacked my friends was arrested last night.
It was my happy duty to inform Al & Milky last night. This was my call to Milky ...
Me ; 'What's the best news I could possibly give you ?'
Milky ; 'Have you got chocolate ?'
Cx
:)
For reasons I know you wil understand I can't go into details, suffice it to say the lowlife who attacked my friends was arrested last night.
It was my happy duty to inform Al & Milky last night. This was my call to Milky ...
Me ; 'What's the best news I could possibly give you ?'
Milky ; 'Have you got chocolate ?'
Cx
:)
Monday, February 07, 2005
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Layzee weekend.
I can’t remember the last time I had such a thoroughly unproductive weekend. My plans for neddy pestering went out of the window & I can’t honestly say I minded. The sum total efforts of my weekend have been to wash the throws for the sofa & to tidy & clean my bedroom. I thought that as I was going to be spending a lot of time in bed, my room needed to be clean.
Last night saw the hard-core of Andy, Milky & I going to Oceana’s. We were joined by Phil who pronounced himself disgusted at the music & the antics of the club-goers. We smiled tolerantly at him, as one does with an elderly relative who complains that they ‘can’t hear the words’ on Top of The Pops any more. Despite this, Phil stayed almost to the end, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t find his way out. It was considered a real test of fortitude for Phil ; when we went to the same club for my birthday, he paid his entrance fee, took one look at the queue to check in coats & promptly left.
Andy has been away from VK on a course and then he missed the early turns due to a stinking cold so we had a lot of catching up to do in the pub.
We stayed at the pub much longer than we had intended & it wasn’t until after midnight that we wended our way to Oceana’s. I had skipped dinner & seem to remember demanding chicken (it must be a Pavlovian response to alcohol, but it’s the only fast food I ever crave) so we stood outside eating our spoils with Andy crying because ‘You try eating chicken wings that are this ‘ot’. I then had to dodge Miky’s attentions with the lemon towelette as he was intent on wiping my face with it far too vigorously for my liking.
Once inside the club, the night followed the predictable pattern.
At one point I challenged Milky to copy the female podium dancer whilst I imitated the male across the other side of the dance floor. He was making a decent job of it too until she leapt in the air, did the splits & landed on the horizontal banister, legs akimbo & continued to writhe & gyrate. Milky complained of shrapnel & suggested he copy the male from then on.
All too soon the night was over & we awaited the complimentary Beemer courtesy of Jim. Jim wisely decided against letting me drive, despite my assurances that ‘it would be fine’. Problem is the zorst is just so fruity that it’s a very difficult car to be a passenger in. Perhaps if I let him borrow Henry ? Actually scrub that, he wouldn’t be able to handle the raw power. Or the embarrassment when Henry lovingly refuses to relinquish the driver at the end of the journey.
Happy Birthday lovely Angie
Friday was lovely Angie’s birthday & 6 of us accompanied her to ‘La Barbe’ in Reigate. The food was excellent and just as importantly to me, the service was outstandingly good. After Angie’s health scare last year it was wonderful to see her looking so good & as ever she was on cracking form. I suspect part of her glow could be attributed to a new admirer. I’m saying nothing more than that for fear of jinxing her but if he shapes up as the form promises, I may hopefully see my lovely friend with the kind of guy she really deserves (Please, please, please.) Tonight we re-group to see Oceans 12 in Wimbledon. The reviews I’ve read have all been scathing but any film with that much eye candy just has to be seen anyway.
I had planned to visit the gym today for the 1st time since November but alas now it’s too late. Oh dear.
Tomorrow ‘man comes’ to look at pooter.
I can hardly wait.
And just to clarify my earlier entry, I don’t want testes per se, I just want them so that I can then understand (& fix) my own pooter problems.
Cx
Murray,
I have written the letter I promised, it will be posted tonight & in a mere 10 days you will be up to speed on all the news.
Milky NZ,
Sorry I missed your tx, I didn’t see it until you would have been asleep. I will be back later on tonight (your Mon morning) or around Mon morning (your Mon eve) after ‘man has been’ . Will tx you the number. Hope you’re ok ?
Trudes,
Enjoy Goring, I hope it makes you all better.
I can’t remember the last time I had such a thoroughly unproductive weekend. My plans for neddy pestering went out of the window & I can’t honestly say I minded. The sum total efforts of my weekend have been to wash the throws for the sofa & to tidy & clean my bedroom. I thought that as I was going to be spending a lot of time in bed, my room needed to be clean.
Last night saw the hard-core of Andy, Milky & I going to Oceana’s. We were joined by Phil who pronounced himself disgusted at the music & the antics of the club-goers. We smiled tolerantly at him, as one does with an elderly relative who complains that they ‘can’t hear the words’ on Top of The Pops any more. Despite this, Phil stayed almost to the end, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t find his way out. It was considered a real test of fortitude for Phil ; when we went to the same club for my birthday, he paid his entrance fee, took one look at the queue to check in coats & promptly left.
Andy has been away from VK on a course and then he missed the early turns due to a stinking cold so we had a lot of catching up to do in the pub.
We stayed at the pub much longer than we had intended & it wasn’t until after midnight that we wended our way to Oceana’s. I had skipped dinner & seem to remember demanding chicken (it must be a Pavlovian response to alcohol, but it’s the only fast food I ever crave) so we stood outside eating our spoils with Andy crying because ‘You try eating chicken wings that are this ‘ot’. I then had to dodge Miky’s attentions with the lemon towelette as he was intent on wiping my face with it far too vigorously for my liking.
Once inside the club, the night followed the predictable pattern.
At one point I challenged Milky to copy the female podium dancer whilst I imitated the male across the other side of the dance floor. He was making a decent job of it too until she leapt in the air, did the splits & landed on the horizontal banister, legs akimbo & continued to writhe & gyrate. Milky complained of shrapnel & suggested he copy the male from then on.
All too soon the night was over & we awaited the complimentary Beemer courtesy of Jim. Jim wisely decided against letting me drive, despite my assurances that ‘it would be fine’. Problem is the zorst is just so fruity that it’s a very difficult car to be a passenger in. Perhaps if I let him borrow Henry ? Actually scrub that, he wouldn’t be able to handle the raw power. Or the embarrassment when Henry lovingly refuses to relinquish the driver at the end of the journey.
Happy Birthday lovely Angie
Friday was lovely Angie’s birthday & 6 of us accompanied her to ‘La Barbe’ in Reigate. The food was excellent and just as importantly to me, the service was outstandingly good. After Angie’s health scare last year it was wonderful to see her looking so good & as ever she was on cracking form. I suspect part of her glow could be attributed to a new admirer. I’m saying nothing more than that for fear of jinxing her but if he shapes up as the form promises, I may hopefully see my lovely friend with the kind of guy she really deserves (Please, please, please.) Tonight we re-group to see Oceans 12 in Wimbledon. The reviews I’ve read have all been scathing but any film with that much eye candy just has to be seen anyway.
I had planned to visit the gym today for the 1st time since November but alas now it’s too late. Oh dear.
Tomorrow ‘man comes’ to look at pooter.
I can hardly wait.
And just to clarify my earlier entry, I don’t want testes per se, I just want them so that I can then understand (& fix) my own pooter problems.
Cx
Murray,
I have written the letter I promised, it will be posted tonight & in a mere 10 days you will be up to speed on all the news.
Milky NZ,
Sorry I missed your tx, I didn’t see it until you would have been asleep. I will be back later on tonight (your Mon morning) or around Mon morning (your Mon eve) after ‘man has been’ . Will tx you the number. Hope you’re ok ?
Trudes,
Enjoy Goring, I hope it makes you all better.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Watching …
The day before I left to live in NZ I stayed at Stuart’s so that he could take me to the airport early the next day. At bedtime I asked to borrow an alarm clock to help me rise. ‘Use this’ he said loaning me a watch with an alarm that he had formerly used for running due to it’s second timing facility.
I had been in NZ for a day before I realised I was still wearing it.
It is a rather unlovely, utilitarian Casio & yet I have become irrationally attached to it. It has a chunky black screen & a rather tatty blue material strap which closes with Velcro that’s losing it’s stick.
I wore the watch every single day & night of my year away, much to the amusement of the Stud girls who would eye my Friday night gurly outfit & say kindly ‘And you’re planning on wearing that watch with that outfit are you ?’ ‘Yes’ I would reply, it wasn’t up for discussion.
During my year away the watch was dunked in cold water whilst I cleaned troughs, pulled on daily by nosey colts who adored the sound of the Velcro opening, and served as a 5am alarm clock. I set it by the GMT signal on Radio 4 when I left England and it has never lost so much as a second in time.
Every now & then I try swapping it for my very pretty gurls watch which has a stretchy brushed chrome band & a pink, metallic face. It never lasts a day though because my Casio tells me the day, date & time at a glance & it lights up at night. Can my gurl’s watch do this ? No.
Last week I thought I had lost the Casio & was hacked off all day. I had a vague recollection of the strap being loose whilst riding & when I dismounted Hannah after our unintentional sprint I found it was missing. I assumed it was trodden into ankle deep mud somewhere on Walton Heath & cursed my stupidity.
So it was a lovely surprise to find, as I emptied the washing machine, what I had actually done was washed it on a 40 degree cycle with lots of underwear. I know it’s designed to be waterproof to 50 metres but I love it even more now for still telling the time after 40 degrees and Ariel.
And now my question, what 1 item could you not do without ? I may be wrong but I seem to remember Stuart telling me the Casio was a cheap watch & yet, to me, it’s worth so much more than it’s monetary value (especially as I didn’t buy it J) I did recently catch Stuart looking at it on my wrist & I could tell he was thinking ‘Hmmm, that looks like …’ Sorry Stu, you can’t have it back.
Cx
The day before I left to live in NZ I stayed at Stuart’s so that he could take me to the airport early the next day. At bedtime I asked to borrow an alarm clock to help me rise. ‘Use this’ he said loaning me a watch with an alarm that he had formerly used for running due to it’s second timing facility.
I had been in NZ for a day before I realised I was still wearing it.
It is a rather unlovely, utilitarian Casio & yet I have become irrationally attached to it. It has a chunky black screen & a rather tatty blue material strap which closes with Velcro that’s losing it’s stick.
I wore the watch every single day & night of my year away, much to the amusement of the Stud girls who would eye my Friday night gurly outfit & say kindly ‘And you’re planning on wearing that watch with that outfit are you ?’ ‘Yes’ I would reply, it wasn’t up for discussion.
During my year away the watch was dunked in cold water whilst I cleaned troughs, pulled on daily by nosey colts who adored the sound of the Velcro opening, and served as a 5am alarm clock. I set it by the GMT signal on Radio 4 when I left England and it has never lost so much as a second in time.
Every now & then I try swapping it for my very pretty gurls watch which has a stretchy brushed chrome band & a pink, metallic face. It never lasts a day though because my Casio tells me the day, date & time at a glance & it lights up at night. Can my gurl’s watch do this ? No.
Last week I thought I had lost the Casio & was hacked off all day. I had a vague recollection of the strap being loose whilst riding & when I dismounted Hannah after our unintentional sprint I found it was missing. I assumed it was trodden into ankle deep mud somewhere on Walton Heath & cursed my stupidity.
So it was a lovely surprise to find, as I emptied the washing machine, what I had actually done was washed it on a 40 degree cycle with lots of underwear. I know it’s designed to be waterproof to 50 metres but I love it even more now for still telling the time after 40 degrees and Ariel.
And now my question, what 1 item could you not do without ? I may be wrong but I seem to remember Stuart telling me the Casio was a cheap watch & yet, to me, it’s worth so much more than it’s monetary value (especially as I didn’t buy it J) I did recently catch Stuart looking at it on my wrist & I could tell he was thinking ‘Hmmm, that looks like …’ Sorry Stu, you can’t have it back.
Cx
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Listen with Ludwig.
Location : Bedroom
Time : 2230
Scent : The Sanctuary’s Relaxing Oil in a burner
Soundtrack : Beethoven
I love to Blog at the end of the day knowing that all my chores for the next day are complete ; it brings me a sense of peace. All I have to do now is dry my rapidly curling hair.
I have spent the last couple of hours ironing 10 shirts whilst listening to music as Sharon does stuff on her computer for work. I relish the fact that we don’t have mindless noise in the background from an incessant, moronic squawk-box. I can’t truthfully say I always enjoy ironing but every once in a while the urge grabs me & I can stand utterly engrossed for a couple of hours, starching shirt upon shirt.
When I lived with Angie in Mange we came to the deal that we would do each other’s ironing, somehow it’s less weary that way.
Tonight has been the classics ; Elgar’s Cello Concerto, Bach’s Toccato, Adagio & Fugue & lastly Beethoven’s Symphony No 9 ‘Choral’ which you may know as ‘Ode to Joy’. Thoroughly rousing stuff. I am grateful to Mum for my appreciation of the latter, I could listen to it on repeat for hour after hour.
You don’t have to have children if you leave something of worth behind.
Blink and there go 2 more days off
Recipe ; 2 horses, 2 riders, 1 springer spaniel, lots of mud.
Agitate thoroughly. Result = 2 baths in 2 days for 1 very put upon dog.
‘Hannah’s in a foul mood’ I called prophetically to Kerry from my stable as I tried to tack her up yesterday, whilst she stamped in circles around her box, swishing her tail & grinding her teeth.
We set off at 1100 for a 2 hour hack which would take us up towards Walton Heath Golf Course. The protocol on the frightfully correct course is to give way on the 1st 4 holes, checking alternately left & right. If there is any play coming towards you, the idea is to stop your horse & wait to be waved through.
I suspect one would be marked down on the score card for galloping madly through all 4 holes, out of control, just managing to snatch glances left or right but with little or no chance of pulling a half-tonne of hormonal horse to a standstill. Thank you whoever for making all the tees be empty.
The last thing Kerry said to me as she looked over her shoulder at a trot was ‘How long is it through this course ?’ ‘About half a mile’ I replied, which was her cue to canter. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough off the mark & Hannah thought that as Kerry’s horse Patrick started to canter off, that she was to be abandoned. She promptly stuck her head between her knees & took off after his retreating form.
‘Sorrrrreeeeee’ I shouted pathetically to Kerry as we ploughed past her & headed for the horizon. Her response was a rapidly diminishing profanity.
Twice I thought I had managed to slow Hannah & twice I had to lie on her withers to avoid obstacles. Each time I lay down I’m sure I heard her say ‘Yeeha ! as she took my cue to go even faster. My legs were flapping on her side like badly furled sails & I didn’t dare think how Kerry must look as we threw big, black gobbets of mud behind us.
A long time later we finally both stopped, some 40 metres from the road we were due to cross. We looked at each other & giggled hysterically with the realisation that I was still aboard. ‘One – nil’ I said as Kerry just shook her head. I pulled so hard on the reins that my amber ring from Nelson market is now oval rather than circular. We’re going to the Downs on Saturday to do it all again. I’d avoid the area if you’re thinking of taking small children.
Barley has been wonderful company and as ever, I handed her back last night with a lump in my throat. There’s something very comforting about having her solid little form on my bed. It feels very different without her there.
‘Play the joker you w.anchor !’
Was Matt’s entreaty to me at the pub quiz last night. We were pretty sure on 15 out of 16 of our Australian picture faces but weren’t entirely convinced that we had Kerry Packer right. We should have trusted ourselves though & played the joker. We had all 16 correct & would have comfortably romped to victory & £30, rather than the 3rd place & £10. Milky’s Mum you would have been proud of me, not only was I able to identify Phar-Lap but also to tell anyone who cared to listen (none of them did) that his skellington was in the Te Papa Museum in Wellington. Well done us for going to see it.
One point of note, whilst ruminating upon a team name, our team Inspector seriously suggested ‘Kingston Killers - & he's in charge ?
2 more early turns to go, then out for a meal to celebrate the lovely Angie’s birthday on Friday. Neddy pestering during the day Saturday & Sunday & the possibility of some very loud dancing music on Saturday. We shall see,
Tune in for tomorrow’s exciting instalment when I plan to Blog about a watch.
Cx
Get well soon Andy. Please don’t leave me with him for much longer.
Hx, The contents of my bedside table are as follows :
A pale green lamp, a glass vase of purple & white tulips, a tiny black & white cat who reminds me of ‘Chester’ a small framed picture of an English country garden complete with lupins, aquilegia, foxgloves & wisteria, a small stoneware candle holder from Stan which proclaims ‘Carol – kind & romantic at heart, Blessed with a caring gift’ (quit sniggering, I like it) a card from my Mum and whichever book I am reading, currently ‘Silent Thunder – In the presence of elephants’ I can take a phot but can’t publish until ‘man comes’
And on that note …
Continuing thanks to Bloo who painstakingly publishes Blog for me, a few lines at a time from MSN. Bloo you will be glad to know I have arranged for ‘man come’ on Monday night. Hopefully ‘man come’ & ‘man fix’ if not man promises ‘no fix, no fee’ Hmmmm.
How I wish I had testes & understood computers.
Location : Bedroom
Time : 2230
Scent : The Sanctuary’s Relaxing Oil in a burner
Soundtrack : Beethoven
I love to Blog at the end of the day knowing that all my chores for the next day are complete ; it brings me a sense of peace. All I have to do now is dry my rapidly curling hair.
I have spent the last couple of hours ironing 10 shirts whilst listening to music as Sharon does stuff on her computer for work. I relish the fact that we don’t have mindless noise in the background from an incessant, moronic squawk-box. I can’t truthfully say I always enjoy ironing but every once in a while the urge grabs me & I can stand utterly engrossed for a couple of hours, starching shirt upon shirt.
When I lived with Angie in Mange we came to the deal that we would do each other’s ironing, somehow it’s less weary that way.
Tonight has been the classics ; Elgar’s Cello Concerto, Bach’s Toccato, Adagio & Fugue & lastly Beethoven’s Symphony No 9 ‘Choral’ which you may know as ‘Ode to Joy’. Thoroughly rousing stuff. I am grateful to Mum for my appreciation of the latter, I could listen to it on repeat for hour after hour.
You don’t have to have children if you leave something of worth behind.
Blink and there go 2 more days off
Recipe ; 2 horses, 2 riders, 1 springer spaniel, lots of mud.
Agitate thoroughly. Result = 2 baths in 2 days for 1 very put upon dog.
‘Hannah’s in a foul mood’ I called prophetically to Kerry from my stable as I tried to tack her up yesterday, whilst she stamped in circles around her box, swishing her tail & grinding her teeth.
We set off at 1100 for a 2 hour hack which would take us up towards Walton Heath Golf Course. The protocol on the frightfully correct course is to give way on the 1st 4 holes, checking alternately left & right. If there is any play coming towards you, the idea is to stop your horse & wait to be waved through.
I suspect one would be marked down on the score card for galloping madly through all 4 holes, out of control, just managing to snatch glances left or right but with little or no chance of pulling a half-tonne of hormonal horse to a standstill. Thank you whoever for making all the tees be empty.
The last thing Kerry said to me as she looked over her shoulder at a trot was ‘How long is it through this course ?’ ‘About half a mile’ I replied, which was her cue to canter. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough off the mark & Hannah thought that as Kerry’s horse Patrick started to canter off, that she was to be abandoned. She promptly stuck her head between her knees & took off after his retreating form.
‘Sorrrrreeeeee’ I shouted pathetically to Kerry as we ploughed past her & headed for the horizon. Her response was a rapidly diminishing profanity.
Twice I thought I had managed to slow Hannah & twice I had to lie on her withers to avoid obstacles. Each time I lay down I’m sure I heard her say ‘Yeeha ! as she took my cue to go even faster. My legs were flapping on her side like badly furled sails & I didn’t dare think how Kerry must look as we threw big, black gobbets of mud behind us.
A long time later we finally both stopped, some 40 metres from the road we were due to cross. We looked at each other & giggled hysterically with the realisation that I was still aboard. ‘One – nil’ I said as Kerry just shook her head. I pulled so hard on the reins that my amber ring from Nelson market is now oval rather than circular. We’re going to the Downs on Saturday to do it all again. I’d avoid the area if you’re thinking of taking small children.
Barley has been wonderful company and as ever, I handed her back last night with a lump in my throat. There’s something very comforting about having her solid little form on my bed. It feels very different without her there.
‘Play the joker you w.anchor !’
Was Matt’s entreaty to me at the pub quiz last night. We were pretty sure on 15 out of 16 of our Australian picture faces but weren’t entirely convinced that we had Kerry Packer right. We should have trusted ourselves though & played the joker. We had all 16 correct & would have comfortably romped to victory & £30, rather than the 3rd place & £10. Milky’s Mum you would have been proud of me, not only was I able to identify Phar-Lap but also to tell anyone who cared to listen (none of them did) that his skellington was in the Te Papa Museum in Wellington. Well done us for going to see it.
One point of note, whilst ruminating upon a team name, our team Inspector seriously suggested ‘Kingston Killers - & he's in charge ?
2 more early turns to go, then out for a meal to celebrate the lovely Angie’s birthday on Friday. Neddy pestering during the day Saturday & Sunday & the possibility of some very loud dancing music on Saturday. We shall see,
Tune in for tomorrow’s exciting instalment when I plan to Blog about a watch.
Cx
Get well soon Andy. Please don’t leave me with him for much longer.
Hx, The contents of my bedside table are as follows :
A pale green lamp, a glass vase of purple & white tulips, a tiny black & white cat who reminds me of ‘Chester’ a small framed picture of an English country garden complete with lupins, aquilegia, foxgloves & wisteria, a small stoneware candle holder from Stan which proclaims ‘Carol – kind & romantic at heart, Blessed with a caring gift’ (quit sniggering, I like it) a card from my Mum and whichever book I am reading, currently ‘Silent Thunder – In the presence of elephants’ I can take a phot but can’t publish until ‘man comes’
And on that note …
Continuing thanks to Bloo who painstakingly publishes Blog for me, a few lines at a time from MSN. Bloo you will be glad to know I have arranged for ‘man come’ on Monday night. Hopefully ‘man come’ & ‘man fix’ if not man promises ‘no fix, no fee’ Hmmmm.
How I wish I had testes & understood computers.
Monday, January 31, 2005
‘That was the week that was …’
I’m going to begin with a rant whilst it’s fresh in my mind.
This evening, as I navigated the North Circular, a road for which familiarity has certainly bred contempt during the last 4 weeks, I gave way to a police car which had indicated its intent to swap lanes ahead of me.
There was no gesture of thanks from the driver.
A couple of minutes later the blue lights of the vehicle started flashing & the driver began a u-turn. The driver could only get half way through the manoeuvre & she had to then reverse into my lane of traffic to complete the arc.
Again, I gave way to her & waited for the nod of acknowledgement. Which never came. The female driver took off without so much as a look towards any of the three vehicles she had expected to stop for her.
I know I sound like Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells, but I took a note of the index & seriously considered ringing her nick to complain. If someone as pro as me is thinking that, what the hell is the general public thinking ?
Yesterday’s headline in The Express newspaper was ‘Police drivers kill 30 people a year’. I’m not going to begin commenting on that kind of sensationalist journalism. What I will say is that with the public perception of police driving at a low ebb, the very least that police drivers can do is acknowledge other drivers who facilitate their rapid progress whilst they try to get to that emergency call within 12 minutes.
I will never deliberately obstruct an emergency services vehicle & I put today’s experience down to an immature, thoughtless officer. Other motorists may not see it the same way. So come on boys & girls … a quick thank – you to the motorist who let you through takes no time & does your image a world of good.
Whilst I’m in this vein … ‘Dear BBC why oh why oh why …. ?’ Only joking.
You already know that my Monday & Tuesday were spent at Casualty Bureau so I’ll tell you about the rest of the week, commencing with curry night.
‘And when they presented us with the bill, the tallest waiter stood near the exit’
Against all my expectations everyone was only 30 minutes late for our 1830 table booking & that was probably my fault to some extent as I was so engrossed in chatting to Creaky that it was difficult to leave my local & make the rvp. I was able to complete my mission & discover Creaky’s Tavistiock address, as well as gleaning the information that he is moving to a 4 bedroomed house (loads of room for visitors) & that Mrs Creaky likes Barley Marleys. Excellent, 1 summer walking break organised.
I was almost the last to arrive at the curry house & my punishment was in the usual form, I was seated next to Derv (only joking Derv). I tried to remind Derv that he had promised (during our last soiree) not only to loan me his bike for the day but to have me put on his insurance too. Needless to say, he was having none of it, despite me calling numerous & upstanding character witnesses who agreed with my version of events.
I had resolved to control my alcohol intake for three reasons.
(break in typing Sunday evening, remainder typed Monday evening)
Mostly because I wanted to observe Milky & Al & see how they were but also because after my 270 units in 1 night (at the aforementioned soiree when I NEEDED a drink) I suspected Darren thought I had a drink problem. The final reason for my abstinence was that the guv’nor has kept such a close eye on me since Casualty Bureau that I figured Milky had reported me as a possible welfare case. Milky’s giggling denial did little to allay my suspicions.
Watching the team interact I felt like an over-anxious gardener checking seedlings for frost damage. The good news is that, unsurprisingly after the night-duty they had just shared ; there was a palpable feeling of communal care. It was directed mostly at Al & Milky but everyone just seemed more tactile, friendly and warm. The only upside of everyone getting such a nasty shock, I suppose.
The benefit of being sober was watching people (ok then, Julie) descend into the type of behaviour I’m usually happily engrossed in. At the point that the hot towels were being flung, I was hastily collecting & hiding them & worrying what the other diners were thinking of our group.
When the huge bill was placed on the table, I noticed they positioned the largest of their waiters at the door.
After the meal, some people headed off home & the rest of us made our way to The Saucy Kettle in Surbiton. It was dead, with the complete lack of atmosphere I associate with trendy bar cum pubs. I wouldn’t go there again. I got to talk to Hadleigh & Frances for the 1st time & it was lovely to finally meet the girl I’ve heard so much about. Everything I’d heard was true & Frances is funny as well as gorgeous. Lucky Hadleigh
The evening was beginning to lose its impetus now & the only person keen to go on to a club was Derv who was showing commendable stamina. And so in ones & twos we drifted off home, the only certainty being that we’ll all meet up to do it again soon. I’ve missed them.
‘And make sure you wear something old …’
During the curry night I had told Milky that the best thing he could possibly do to stop him dwelling on work was to accompany me on a day out neddy-pestering. As you will know by now, I think there is no problem that cannot be remedied by fresh air, beautiful surroundings & hugging neddies. As we said goodbye we arranged to meet at the stables the next day. I could not stress highly enough to Milky that he should avoid at all costs wearing anything clean or new.
It was a clean & pristine Milky who got out of his car at the yard the next day & it was with dismay that I noted the immaculate jeans, biscuit coloured fleece & WHITE trainers.
Oh dear Milky. Still, at least he remembered his hat & gloves. Bless.
I, by contrast, was clad in blue jods, brown chaps & boots & a mud-coloured full-length riding coat.
We set off, headed for Givons Grove & Mickleham Gallops. I, mounted on Hannah & Milky on his trusty steed ; his mountain bike.
I was determined to cure Milky of his nocturnal ways & by God, I had a good go at it. We must have covered 6 miles & at least 1 of those was a 1 in 3 hill which Milky surprised me by getting half way up before losing traction & resorting to pushing his mud-spattered bike.
To say the ride was muddy does not begin to describe the conditions. Several times Milky had to dismount his bike & de-cake the wheels as they had stopped turning.
Towards the end of the ride, I advised Milky to head straight on, whilst I turned right at a woodland crossroads. I was heading for Mickleham Gallops & told him that his track would bisect the one I was due to canter along. ‘Just remember, whatever you do, as I canter towards you, stand clear of the bushes & don’t lurk or the horse’ll spook & I’ll get dumped on my arse.’
Perhaps I should have said more explicitly ‘And don’t take a flash photo as we canter past’.
At the point that the flash activated, Hannah’s hitherto collected canter became something altogether different. I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to pull her up before reaching the yard. Milky was gallant enough to say he didn’t notice the slightly out-of-control gallop.
The end of the day saw us ensconced in the tack room, relishing hot soup & chattering away nineteen to the dozen whilst cleaning tack. To be accurate, I cleaned tack & talked, Milky said ‘mmm’ every now & then & read the paper.
We decided our industry merited a pub meal & headed off in the torrential rain to one of my favourite pubs, The Running Horses in Mickleham. If you like Sky TV, pool tables, homogenous décor and a uniform menu, this pub’s not for you. I was utterly in my elephant, counting 6 dogs including a chow, 3 spaniels, an Airedale and a very dignified old Golden Retriever.
After only half a pint of delicious bitter in the very warm pub I was decidedly blurry & so we bade each other goodnight at a very responsible 2030. By 2130 I was tucked in bed & feeling for the 1st time since I started at Casualty Bureau that I wasn’t too tired to go to work the next day.
‘Back to life, back to reality …’
Casualty Bureau has downscaled a little now & our office is due to start 8 hour days which is my cue to return to VK. Lots of the collators are staying on, either because it’s a break from jobs they’re not keen on, or because the travelling is easier for them to get to Hendon than where they usually work. As neither is the case for me I said my goodbyes on Sunday night. We said the usual farewells …
‘See you at the next disaster’
When I’m a little less tired, remind me to tell you about the wind-up which Ray successfully pulled off on the whole office.
I have one more day off tomorrow (neddy pestering) & then I return to VK for early turn Wednesday, Thursday & Friday.
You’re always learning.
Last night I was due to do something that I wasn’t particularly relishing. A friend offered to help. I really wanted to say yes to the help but this is how my inward dialogue went.
‘I can’t say yes to the offer, because they might be hoping I’ll say no. On the other hand, if I have to do it alone, it will upset me. I’ll wait to see
In the end I simply said ‘That offer of help still on ?’ they said yes & a potentially upsetting incident was still difficult but much easier than it would have been had I done it alone.
When I said thank you for the help, I voiced my earlier worry that they may have offered hoping I would say no.
The answer was ‘If I hadn’t wanted to do it, I wouldn’t have offered. You’re welcome’
The moral of the story for me is
1) I analyse things too much &
2) I should stop being so very stubborn & accept help every now & then.
Goodnight all,
Cx
Hang in there to the person who isn’t being treated as well as they deserve at the moment. Everything comes to he who waits.
I’m going to begin with a rant whilst it’s fresh in my mind.
This evening, as I navigated the North Circular, a road for which familiarity has certainly bred contempt during the last 4 weeks, I gave way to a police car which had indicated its intent to swap lanes ahead of me.
There was no gesture of thanks from the driver.
A couple of minutes later the blue lights of the vehicle started flashing & the driver began a u-turn. The driver could only get half way through the manoeuvre & she had to then reverse into my lane of traffic to complete the arc.
Again, I gave way to her & waited for the nod of acknowledgement. Which never came. The female driver took off without so much as a look towards any of the three vehicles she had expected to stop for her.
I know I sound like Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells, but I took a note of the index & seriously considered ringing her nick to complain. If someone as pro as me is thinking that, what the hell is the general public thinking ?
Yesterday’s headline in The Express newspaper was ‘Police drivers kill 30 people a year’. I’m not going to begin commenting on that kind of sensationalist journalism. What I will say is that with the public perception of police driving at a low ebb, the very least that police drivers can do is acknowledge other drivers who facilitate their rapid progress whilst they try to get to that emergency call within 12 minutes.
I will never deliberately obstruct an emergency services vehicle & I put today’s experience down to an immature, thoughtless officer. Other motorists may not see it the same way. So come on boys & girls … a quick thank – you to the motorist who let you through takes no time & does your image a world of good.
Whilst I’m in this vein … ‘Dear BBC why oh why oh why …. ?’ Only joking.
You already know that my Monday & Tuesday were spent at Casualty Bureau so I’ll tell you about the rest of the week, commencing with curry night.
‘And when they presented us with the bill, the tallest waiter stood near the exit’
Against all my expectations everyone was only 30 minutes late for our 1830 table booking & that was probably my fault to some extent as I was so engrossed in chatting to Creaky that it was difficult to leave my local & make the rvp. I was able to complete my mission & discover Creaky’s Tavistiock address, as well as gleaning the information that he is moving to a 4 bedroomed house (loads of room for visitors) & that Mrs Creaky likes Barley Marleys. Excellent, 1 summer walking break organised.
I was almost the last to arrive at the curry house & my punishment was in the usual form, I was seated next to Derv (only joking Derv). I tried to remind Derv that he had promised (during our last soiree) not only to loan me his bike for the day but to have me put on his insurance too. Needless to say, he was having none of it, despite me calling numerous & upstanding character witnesses who agreed with my version of events.
I had resolved to control my alcohol intake for three reasons.
(break in typing Sunday evening, remainder typed Monday evening)
Mostly because I wanted to observe Milky & Al & see how they were but also because after my 270 units in 1 night (at the aforementioned soiree when I NEEDED a drink) I suspected Darren thought I had a drink problem. The final reason for my abstinence was that the guv’nor has kept such a close eye on me since Casualty Bureau that I figured Milky had reported me as a possible welfare case. Milky’s giggling denial did little to allay my suspicions.
Watching the team interact I felt like an over-anxious gardener checking seedlings for frost damage. The good news is that, unsurprisingly after the night-duty they had just shared ; there was a palpable feeling of communal care. It was directed mostly at Al & Milky but everyone just seemed more tactile, friendly and warm. The only upside of everyone getting such a nasty shock, I suppose.
The benefit of being sober was watching people (ok then, Julie) descend into the type of behaviour I’m usually happily engrossed in. At the point that the hot towels were being flung, I was hastily collecting & hiding them & worrying what the other diners were thinking of our group.
When the huge bill was placed on the table, I noticed they positioned the largest of their waiters at the door.
After the meal, some people headed off home & the rest of us made our way to The Saucy Kettle in Surbiton. It was dead, with the complete lack of atmosphere I associate with trendy bar cum pubs. I wouldn’t go there again. I got to talk to Hadleigh & Frances for the 1st time & it was lovely to finally meet the girl I’ve heard so much about. Everything I’d heard was true & Frances is funny as well as gorgeous. Lucky Hadleigh
The evening was beginning to lose its impetus now & the only person keen to go on to a club was Derv who was showing commendable stamina. And so in ones & twos we drifted off home, the only certainty being that we’ll all meet up to do it again soon. I’ve missed them.
‘And make sure you wear something old …’
During the curry night I had told Milky that the best thing he could possibly do to stop him dwelling on work was to accompany me on a day out neddy-pestering. As you will know by now, I think there is no problem that cannot be remedied by fresh air, beautiful surroundings & hugging neddies. As we said goodbye we arranged to meet at the stables the next day. I could not stress highly enough to Milky that he should avoid at all costs wearing anything clean or new.
It was a clean & pristine Milky who got out of his car at the yard the next day & it was with dismay that I noted the immaculate jeans, biscuit coloured fleece & WHITE trainers.
Oh dear Milky. Still, at least he remembered his hat & gloves. Bless.
I, by contrast, was clad in blue jods, brown chaps & boots & a mud-coloured full-length riding coat.
We set off, headed for Givons Grove & Mickleham Gallops. I, mounted on Hannah & Milky on his trusty steed ; his mountain bike.
I was determined to cure Milky of his nocturnal ways & by God, I had a good go at it. We must have covered 6 miles & at least 1 of those was a 1 in 3 hill which Milky surprised me by getting half way up before losing traction & resorting to pushing his mud-spattered bike.
To say the ride was muddy does not begin to describe the conditions. Several times Milky had to dismount his bike & de-cake the wheels as they had stopped turning.
Towards the end of the ride, I advised Milky to head straight on, whilst I turned right at a woodland crossroads. I was heading for Mickleham Gallops & told him that his track would bisect the one I was due to canter along. ‘Just remember, whatever you do, as I canter towards you, stand clear of the bushes & don’t lurk or the horse’ll spook & I’ll get dumped on my arse.’
Perhaps I should have said more explicitly ‘And don’t take a flash photo as we canter past’.
At the point that the flash activated, Hannah’s hitherto collected canter became something altogether different. I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to pull her up before reaching the yard. Milky was gallant enough to say he didn’t notice the slightly out-of-control gallop.
The end of the day saw us ensconced in the tack room, relishing hot soup & chattering away nineteen to the dozen whilst cleaning tack. To be accurate, I cleaned tack & talked, Milky said ‘mmm’ every now & then & read the paper.
We decided our industry merited a pub meal & headed off in the torrential rain to one of my favourite pubs, The Running Horses in Mickleham. If you like Sky TV, pool tables, homogenous décor and a uniform menu, this pub’s not for you. I was utterly in my elephant, counting 6 dogs including a chow, 3 spaniels, an Airedale and a very dignified old Golden Retriever.
After only half a pint of delicious bitter in the very warm pub I was decidedly blurry & so we bade each other goodnight at a very responsible 2030. By 2130 I was tucked in bed & feeling for the 1st time since I started at Casualty Bureau that I wasn’t too tired to go to work the next day.
‘Back to life, back to reality …’
Casualty Bureau has downscaled a little now & our office is due to start 8 hour days which is my cue to return to VK. Lots of the collators are staying on, either because it’s a break from jobs they’re not keen on, or because the travelling is easier for them to get to Hendon than where they usually work. As neither is the case for me I said my goodbyes on Sunday night. We said the usual farewells …
‘See you at the next disaster’
When I’m a little less tired, remind me to tell you about the wind-up which Ray successfully pulled off on the whole office.
I have one more day off tomorrow (neddy pestering) & then I return to VK for early turn Wednesday, Thursday & Friday.
You’re always learning.
Last night I was due to do something that I wasn’t particularly relishing. A friend offered to help. I really wanted to say yes to the help but this is how my inward dialogue went.
‘I can’t say yes to the offer, because they might be hoping I’ll say no. On the other hand, if I have to do it alone, it will upset me. I’ll wait to see
In the end I simply said ‘That offer of help still on ?’ they said yes & a potentially upsetting incident was still difficult but much easier than it would have been had I done it alone.
When I said thank you for the help, I voiced my earlier worry that they may have offered hoping I would say no.
The answer was ‘If I hadn’t wanted to do it, I wouldn’t have offered. You’re welcome’
The moral of the story for me is
1) I analyse things too much &
2) I should stop being so very stubborn & accept help every now & then.
Goodnight all,
Cx
Hang in there to the person who isn’t being treated as well as they deserve at the moment. Everything comes to he who waits.
Friday, January 28, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Galvanize
This may be a bit disjointed as I'm speed-blogging in an internet cafe.
Today is a day off, I've been outside, man it's bright.
I am meeting Ian aka Creaky in a couple of hours, he retired after 30 years in the Police on New Years Eve & he's moving to Tavistock to enjoy his retirement. I have to get him drunk & get his forwarding address from him so that I can invite myself to stay. Wonder if he likes Barley-Marleys ?
Later on I meet the team for a curry & a drink. Julie, our social secretary has made a basic beginner's error in booking the table for 1830. I forsee 2 problems. Firstly, getting a bunch of cops out of a pub after only an hour's drinking. Secondly, who the hell eats curry sober ? Me neither.
I went into Kingston this morning to buy 'gurl' clothes for tonight & saved so much (bargains Hx, bargains, oh I just remembered you won't be reading, there's no photos, you'll have skipped this bit) that I had enough to buy 'Push the Button' by The Chemical Brothers as well as the obligatory cufflinks. I love buying cufflinks almost as much as greetings cards.
When I did my mammoth drive from Wellington to Matamata in a little over 5 hours, 'Galvanize' was an epiphany. I had just loaded up on Red Bull & was listening to the radio loud when the DJ introduced the single.
I was blown away & couldn't wait to hear it again. Since being in England I've hardly heard it until Sunday night when I was driving home from Hendon & heard it was No1 on the Kiss chart. I defy you to hear this on your car radio & not dance behind the wheel. Imagine a record by the Prodigy & S-Express and you're getting there.
It's the most hynotic blend of slightly off key strings and crashing bass line with just a hint of 'the light bulb dance' Go buy it now, I cannot urge you strongly enough, your life will be better for it.
Casualty Bureau
I texted a friend the other day, the gist of that text was ...
'I drive to work in the dark. I drive home in the dark. I have no view. I see nothing of natural beauty. And I deal in death daily'
You can imagine how I've been, I don't need to tell you. Music has been my comfort ; that & the daily run I force myself to go on.
A very weird sense of humour has built up in our office. I make no apologies for the things I am about to repeat. If you've ever worked for the emer services you'll understand. If you find it offensive, go read another Blog.
It doesn't reflect how I feel about what I've been doing, it's just light relief.
The other day Lolly was trying to match 2 records together to see if they were the same person. To do this he had to ring an injured person's mother & discuss her son's injuries.
'Can I ask if your son has leg injuries ?' was what we heard Lolly say.
'He does ? Two broken legs ? That's marvellous, thank you so much'
We knew what he meant, it just kinda came out wrong.
The next day Carol (not me, but another Carol who likes neddies, they have re-named our bit of the office 'Stables Corner' ) had to ring someone to clarify something. Carol is so unlucky with her phone calls that we have christened her the Angel of Death.
Her 1st call went like this ...
'Hello there PC such-and-such from Casualty Bureau, I know your brother has returned safe & well, I just need to ... sorry, what's that ? ... oh.... that's terrible, I'm really sorry, can I just take a few details then ? mmmmhmmm mmmhmmm mmmhmmm ok, bye then & once again, I'm sorry'
Turns out the man's brother had survived the tsunami only to die 4 days later, 300 miles away from a heart attack.
Carol's 2nd call went like this
'Hello there PC such-and-such from Casualty Bureau, I know your family has returned safe & well, I just need to ... sorry, what's that ? ...oh ... that's terrible, I'm really sorry, can I just take a few details then ? mmmmhmmm mmmmhmmmm mmmmhmmm ok, bye then & once again, I'm sorry.'
Needless to say, we were all looking at her questioningly when she came off the fone.
Turns out, the brother on the family had told the police at Heathrow when he got off his flight that he & his family were all safe, well & accounted for. He neglected to mention that each & every one of them had been injured in some way and that his sister was still, in fact, missing. Poor Carol.
Her 3rd phone call went like this
'.. anyway, thank you so much for your help with my enquiries, I'm really glad to hear you returned safe & well, although, come to mention it, you don't sound particularly well. What's that ? Oh. I'm really sorry to hear that. Goodbye'
As she put the phone down, she was scarlet & as her head dropped to her hands, by way of our questions she simply said 'Please don't ask me, I can't tell you, I'm so embarrassed.'
Finally, she confessed that in answer to her query of 'You don't sound particularly well ?' the caller had informed her that she had a tracheotomy following a car accident some 10 years previously which made her speech laboured.
Poor Carol, you just had to feel for her. And then take the pi55 mercilessly of course for the rest of the day. She refuses to make follow up enquiry telephone calls now.
One day Ray was on the phone (more of Ray later) ...
he was trying to explain to an elderly gentleman why it was imperative that he be told the gentleman's wife's surname. The only information the chap had divulged about his wife was her first name of 'Nellie'. I am only naming her because it's relevant to the story & because she returned safe & well.
Patiently, Ray explained again & again why he needed to know Nellie's surname all to no avail. In the end he said the the man 'The thing is sir, we are working with over 50, 000 records and there are many Nellies on the system.'
At this point Lindy & I exchanged glanes. It was fatal.
It is to Ray's eternal credit that he turned his back on our collapsed, mirthful forms, crammed his left hand in his ear & continued to explain patiently & professionaly why he needed Nellie's surname. During this time Lindy & I would only pull ourselves together until the next time we looked at each other & then we'd be off again.
Pathetic, truly pathetic, but like I said, if you worked there, you'd understand.
Yesterday, I met Robbie.
He was absolutely gorgeous & just my type ; very, very clever with huge brown eyes.
I was instantly smitten & he seemed to think I was pretty cool too.
The only drawback ?
He was 16 weeks old & a Springer Spaniel training to be an expo dog. They are the ones who sniff out explosives. I could hardly bear to be parted from him & when I returned to my running laps it was clear he felt the same as he tried to follow me onto the track.
'Come on Robbie, good boy, GOOOOOD boy' came the shout, & Robbie turned, saw his dad & wiggled off into the distance.
The high point of my day.
Cx
FAQ'S
1) Still can't get into Yahoo on my own pooter, after payday man will come, man will fix. Hopefully. I can start downloading photos again then.
2) How much longer with the 12 hour days at Casualty Bureau ?
Not sure. Looks like they may be down-scaling. I could be back at VK as soon as next Monday. I could be there for another 4 weeks. We'll see.
3) Why haven't you answered my e-mails/telephone calls/letters
See 3)
This may be a bit disjointed as I'm speed-blogging in an internet cafe.
Today is a day off, I've been outside, man it's bright.
I am meeting Ian aka Creaky in a couple of hours, he retired after 30 years in the Police on New Years Eve & he's moving to Tavistock to enjoy his retirement. I have to get him drunk & get his forwarding address from him so that I can invite myself to stay. Wonder if he likes Barley-Marleys ?
Later on I meet the team for a curry & a drink. Julie, our social secretary has made a basic beginner's error in booking the table for 1830. I forsee 2 problems. Firstly, getting a bunch of cops out of a pub after only an hour's drinking. Secondly, who the hell eats curry sober ? Me neither.
I went into Kingston this morning to buy 'gurl' clothes for tonight & saved so much (bargains Hx, bargains, oh I just remembered you won't be reading, there's no photos, you'll have skipped this bit) that I had enough to buy 'Push the Button' by The Chemical Brothers as well as the obligatory cufflinks. I love buying cufflinks almost as much as greetings cards.
When I did my mammoth drive from Wellington to Matamata in a little over 5 hours, 'Galvanize' was an epiphany. I had just loaded up on Red Bull & was listening to the radio loud when the DJ introduced the single.
I was blown away & couldn't wait to hear it again. Since being in England I've hardly heard it until Sunday night when I was driving home from Hendon & heard it was No1 on the Kiss chart. I defy you to hear this on your car radio & not dance behind the wheel. Imagine a record by the Prodigy & S-Express and you're getting there.
It's the most hynotic blend of slightly off key strings and crashing bass line with just a hint of 'the light bulb dance' Go buy it now, I cannot urge you strongly enough, your life will be better for it.
Casualty Bureau
I texted a friend the other day, the gist of that text was ...
'I drive to work in the dark. I drive home in the dark. I have no view. I see nothing of natural beauty. And I deal in death daily'
You can imagine how I've been, I don't need to tell you. Music has been my comfort ; that & the daily run I force myself to go on.
A very weird sense of humour has built up in our office. I make no apologies for the things I am about to repeat. If you've ever worked for the emer services you'll understand. If you find it offensive, go read another Blog.
It doesn't reflect how I feel about what I've been doing, it's just light relief.
The other day Lolly was trying to match 2 records together to see if they were the same person. To do this he had to ring an injured person's mother & discuss her son's injuries.
'Can I ask if your son has leg injuries ?' was what we heard Lolly say.
'He does ? Two broken legs ? That's marvellous, thank you so much'
We knew what he meant, it just kinda came out wrong.
The next day Carol (not me, but another Carol who likes neddies, they have re-named our bit of the office 'Stables Corner' ) had to ring someone to clarify something. Carol is so unlucky with her phone calls that we have christened her the Angel of Death.
Her 1st call went like this ...
'Hello there PC such-and-such from Casualty Bureau, I know your brother has returned safe & well, I just need to ... sorry, what's that ? ... oh.... that's terrible, I'm really sorry, can I just take a few details then ? mmmmhmmm mmmhmmm mmmhmmm ok, bye then & once again, I'm sorry'
Turns out the man's brother had survived the tsunami only to die 4 days later, 300 miles away from a heart attack.
Carol's 2nd call went like this
'Hello there PC such-and-such from Casualty Bureau, I know your family has returned safe & well, I just need to ... sorry, what's that ? ...oh ... that's terrible, I'm really sorry, can I just take a few details then ? mmmmhmmm mmmmhmmmm mmmmhmmm ok, bye then & once again, I'm sorry.'
Needless to say, we were all looking at her questioningly when she came off the fone.
Turns out, the brother on the family had told the police at Heathrow when he got off his flight that he & his family were all safe, well & accounted for. He neglected to mention that each & every one of them had been injured in some way and that his sister was still, in fact, missing. Poor Carol.
Her 3rd phone call went like this
'.. anyway, thank you so much for your help with my enquiries, I'm really glad to hear you returned safe & well, although, come to mention it, you don't sound particularly well. What's that ? Oh. I'm really sorry to hear that. Goodbye'
As she put the phone down, she was scarlet & as her head dropped to her hands, by way of our questions she simply said 'Please don't ask me, I can't tell you, I'm so embarrassed.'
Finally, she confessed that in answer to her query of 'You don't sound particularly well ?' the caller had informed her that she had a tracheotomy following a car accident some 10 years previously which made her speech laboured.
Poor Carol, you just had to feel for her. And then take the pi55 mercilessly of course for the rest of the day. She refuses to make follow up enquiry telephone calls now.
One day Ray was on the phone (more of Ray later) ...
he was trying to explain to an elderly gentleman why it was imperative that he be told the gentleman's wife's surname. The only information the chap had divulged about his wife was her first name of 'Nellie'. I am only naming her because it's relevant to the story & because she returned safe & well.
Patiently, Ray explained again & again why he needed to know Nellie's surname all to no avail. In the end he said the the man 'The thing is sir, we are working with over 50, 000 records and there are many Nellies on the system.'
At this point Lindy & I exchanged glanes. It was fatal.
It is to Ray's eternal credit that he turned his back on our collapsed, mirthful forms, crammed his left hand in his ear & continued to explain patiently & professionaly why he needed Nellie's surname. During this time Lindy & I would only pull ourselves together until the next time we looked at each other & then we'd be off again.
Pathetic, truly pathetic, but like I said, if you worked there, you'd understand.
Yesterday, I met Robbie.
He was absolutely gorgeous & just my type ; very, very clever with huge brown eyes.
I was instantly smitten & he seemed to think I was pretty cool too.
The only drawback ?
He was 16 weeks old & a Springer Spaniel training to be an expo dog. They are the ones who sniff out explosives. I could hardly bear to be parted from him & when I returned to my running laps it was clear he felt the same as he tried to follow me onto the track.
'Come on Robbie, good boy, GOOOOOD boy' came the shout, & Robbie turned, saw his dad & wiggled off into the distance.
The high point of my day.
Cx
FAQ'S
1) Still can't get into Yahoo on my own pooter, after payday man will come, man will fix. Hopefully. I can start downloading photos again then.
2) How much longer with the 12 hour days at Casualty Bureau ?
Not sure. Looks like they may be down-scaling. I could be back at VK as soon as next Monday. I could be there for another 4 weeks. We'll see.
3) Why haven't you answered my e-mails/telephone calls/letters
See 3)
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
‘I am breathing & conscious …’
I was awoken by a text from Andy this morning asking if I’d heard from Milky.
Thinking it unusual that he hadn’t awoken me in the wee small hours (he is nights at the moment & finds it amusing to do so, come to think of it, he wakes me when he’s not nights due to the nocturnal lifestyle I told you of previously). I told Andy that I hadn’t heard from him.
Andy then rang to tell me that Milky & Al (one of our female officers) had been attacked by a man with a Stanley knife. Al had been stabbed in the chest (a fact she wasn’t aware of until she found the slash mark in her Metvest) It is thanks to her vest that she was uninjured but she is understandably very shaken up.
Milky didn’t get off so lightly & in the struggle was slashed across the forehead & stabbed in the upper arm, requiring 30 stitches in all.
The reason they were attacked ? They stopped & questioned a man & asked him why he was pushing along a motorbike at 0100 in the morning. When his answers didn’t add up they told him he was under arrest.
Words fail me in describing the low-life that did this, I can’t even begin to tell you how I would like him to die. Despite the fact that an armed response unit was with Milky 40 seconds after he was attacked, the man got away. How I wish he had stared down the barrel of an MP5.
Poor Andy sounded very shaken up, I know from experience how horrible it is to hear your team-mates shouting for help on a radio & there is absolutely nothing you can do. He will be hearing the incident in his mind for days to come.
Night duty has been very busy for the team this week, this being the 3rd knife incident.
I know it’s no-one’s fault that I’m not there, but I am fiercely protective of ‘my’ team, hence my nagging the ones who don’t do things safely.
Last Friday night as I went to sleep, I heard 2-tones & felt very odd knowing it was my team out & about without my being there to keep an eye on them.
The one bit of light-relief (this is Milky after all) was the fact that Milky did his own ambulance message.
An ambulance message is the details an officer passes over the radio when asking us to call an ambulance for a member of the public. They describe the injuries, give the age & gender of the person & always end with whether or not the patient is breathing & conscious.
I wish I had been there to hear Milky describe his injuries to the control room & end with ‘…and I’m breathing & conscious’. Even in adversity he can’t help being funny.
I’m going to see him this evening & will hopefully be eating the chocolate I’ll buy him. I’ll pass on your best wishes, along with mine for a speedy recovery.
Cx
I was awoken by a text from Andy this morning asking if I’d heard from Milky.
Thinking it unusual that he hadn’t awoken me in the wee small hours (he is nights at the moment & finds it amusing to do so, come to think of it, he wakes me when he’s not nights due to the nocturnal lifestyle I told you of previously). I told Andy that I hadn’t heard from him.
Andy then rang to tell me that Milky & Al (one of our female officers) had been attacked by a man with a Stanley knife. Al had been stabbed in the chest (a fact she wasn’t aware of until she found the slash mark in her Metvest) It is thanks to her vest that she was uninjured but she is understandably very shaken up.
Milky didn’t get off so lightly & in the struggle was slashed across the forehead & stabbed in the upper arm, requiring 30 stitches in all.
The reason they were attacked ? They stopped & questioned a man & asked him why he was pushing along a motorbike at 0100 in the morning. When his answers didn’t add up they told him he was under arrest.
Words fail me in describing the low-life that did this, I can’t even begin to tell you how I would like him to die. Despite the fact that an armed response unit was with Milky 40 seconds after he was attacked, the man got away. How I wish he had stared down the barrel of an MP5.
Poor Andy sounded very shaken up, I know from experience how horrible it is to hear your team-mates shouting for help on a radio & there is absolutely nothing you can do. He will be hearing the incident in his mind for days to come.
Night duty has been very busy for the team this week, this being the 3rd knife incident.
I know it’s no-one’s fault that I’m not there, but I am fiercely protective of ‘my’ team, hence my nagging the ones who don’t do things safely.
Last Friday night as I went to sleep, I heard 2-tones & felt very odd knowing it was my team out & about without my being there to keep an eye on them.
The one bit of light-relief (this is Milky after all) was the fact that Milky did his own ambulance message.
An ambulance message is the details an officer passes over the radio when asking us to call an ambulance for a member of the public. They describe the injuries, give the age & gender of the person & always end with whether or not the patient is breathing & conscious.
I wish I had been there to hear Milky describe his injuries to the control room & end with ‘…and I’m breathing & conscious’. Even in adversity he can’t help being funny.
I’m going to see him this evening & will hopefully be eating the chocolate I’ll buy him. I’ll pass on your best wishes, along with mine for a speedy recovery.
Cx
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Today a report came through our office ...
which detailed a family who had survived the tsunami to return home to Carlisle.
For those overseas readers, Carlisle is in Northern England & 10 days ago was battered by the most ferocious floods & storms in 10 years.
Lots of people lots their homes & livestock. Several areas are still without electricity.
I still haven't decided if those survivors are lucky or unlucky.
CX
which detailed a family who had survived the tsunami to return home to Carlisle.
For those overseas readers, Carlisle is in Northern England & 10 days ago was battered by the most ferocious floods & storms in 10 years.
Lots of people lots their homes & livestock. Several areas are still without electricity.
I still haven't decided if those survivors are lucky or unlucky.
CX
Sunday, January 09, 2005
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