Time to get the electric blanket from the loft

Make a cup of tea, get yourself comfy, this is going to be a long one.

So much for updating twice weekly.

Where were we last time ?

I think I had just been to Yorks to help Mum move at the end of October.

Firstly, with reference to the title, the electric blanket was placed reverentially on the bed a couple of weeks ago. There are some people who claim they like to get into a cold bed & warm it up gradually. There is a name for these people - sick.

In conjunction with the electric blanket the spare duvet was coerced along with the existing one into the duvet cover. The entire thing now has a weighty quality ensuring no movement in bed is possible. Going to bed has now become a religious experience. The best thing about blankie is that I can still leave the bedroom window open because I like the fresh air on my face but the rest of my body resembles a small nuclear explosion.

At the beginning of November, on this man’s recommendation, the MilkMan & I went here



on the shores of Windermere. On Mum's advice I've always favoured the North end of the Lakes for summer visits but Windermere in November makes perfect sense.

We were treating ourselves to a few days r & r to make up for working Christmas & New Years. The place was old, the furnishings exquisite & the service discreet & professional. What bliss to eat a meal in a venue where the staff don’t interrupt every 20 minutes to ask ‘if everthing’s alright ?’ If it’s not – I’ll tell you, how’s that ?

It was marvellous.

We did some of this.



Note MTM, walking pole & compass just to irritate you. Pole, not stick.



Is it lunchtime yet ?

We climbed one of these.





Those of us who didn’t know where we were had to do this.



Those who did, could afford to relax & do this.



All in all, the break in the great outdoors made me feel like this.



Shiny, happy people.

Anticipating a grim return journey on the M6 we stopped at the services & I introduced Milky to one of my passions – talking books. Ian Rankin was the author of choice & the particular book was ‘Blood Hunt’. I really enjoyed it & I know Milky did – he’s never been quiet for that long before.

After a quick turnaround I found myself in Dublin for the weekend, celebrating Cocky’s birthday with her sister Helen & 7 more friends. With some good fortune we found ourselves in the gorgeous Bewleys Hotel, Ballsbridge





Briggsy, Pam, Cocky, Rae.



(I remembered the name Piggy !) We were 10 minutes away from Lansdowne Road on a weekend when Ireland were playing the All Blacks at home. Dublin – a city never short of people looking to enjoy themselves was further enriched by thousands of happy Kiwis.



On the Friday night we headed out to explore & found ourselves at a Cuban restaurant beginning dinner at 1015 pm. I discovered that night that I do like Cuban cuisine but don’t like mango margueritas. I will happily admit to being very pleased to see my bed.



If only all hotels had feather pillows, feather duvets & crisp white cotton bedding the world would be a happier place. I’ve never slept in feather bedding before but have since written to Santa.

This guy travels with me wherever I go, it amused me no end to find the maid had placed him thus.



On Saturday we did what every visitor to Dublin has to do & hopped on a tour bus to go to the Guinness factory. I last visited a couple of years ago for Lovely Angie’s birthday but it’s well worth a second visit. The building itself is lovely, lots of girders & glass,



the exhibits thoughtful & interesting & I had a gorgeous seafood chowder here.



We then went to the stunning Gravity Bar



which offers unrivalled 7th floor, 360 degrees of Dublin but (get this Ang) left after one complimentary pint & headed off to the shops. I can safely say the shops, or at least the ones we found ourselves in) were awful … a seething mass of humanity & clothes in displays which as Helen put it ‘resembled waterfalls’ due to the churning mass of human hands grabbing at them.

Those of us who were exhausted (me) headed back to the hotel for a very quick 20 minute nap. Feeling hugely refreshed I met up with the others in the hotel lobby



Lynn, Helen, Cocky, Rae, Lynn, Avril, Briggsy

& at Avril’s suggestion we headed off for a cocktail at the next door Four Seasons Hotel. (50 million euros to build according to a local cabbie) This happened to be a stroke of genius on Avril’s part for the Ice Bar in the Four Seasons was simply gorgeous. Only the prices & our booking at our Thai restaurant Diep Le Shaker (or the ‘People Shaker’ as Cocky insisted in referring to it all weekend) put us off staying the entire night.



Pam, Avril & Cocky in The People Shaker

After a delicious meal we set off into Dublin looking for fun. I forget the name of the first pub we went to but we knew it was going to be lively when the cabbie said ‘Are you sure ?’ Turns out it was too packed to get inside so we stood freezing outside quizzing the locals & trying to find somewhere to dance until the early hours. After a couple of false starts our guide John turned up trumps & led us to a very swanky club which is allegedly Colin Farrell’s club of choice.

None of the people we spoke to the next day could understand how we had come to be admitted to this very exclusive club. Delving into our alcohol-smudged memory banks we re-called that we had entered by a fire-escape & not the main entrance thereby avoiding the extortionate entry fee. Result.

Easily the best thing about visiting Dublin this time was the total no-smokng ban in public. I didn't realise how much smoke ruined a night out until I woke up on both Saturday & Sunday mornings wondering what felt different. The it occurred to me - no smell of smoke in my hair & on my clothes. I didn't have the hangover I deserved on either morning either, which makes me think smoke must be a contributory factor to feeling rough.

Ireland has very wisely embraced a total no-smoking ban whilst here in England our government has opted for a half-arsed 'no smoking where there's food being served' ban. I speak from first hand experience when I say the pubs & clubs in Ireland are doing a roaring trade, so any of this nonsense about pubs going out of business is just that - nonsense. I also know of several friends who say they only smoke after having a few drinks, if they weren't allowed to, that would help hem too (I'm aware that sounds fascist - never mind.)

I digress, back to the night out, I had a fantastic night cavorting & assume everyone else did too ?

After a good breakfast the next morning we headed off to our respective parts of the world agreeing that next time it would be Prague for Rae’s 40th.

On my next set of rest days I fulfilled a long-held ambition & dragged Milky off here







to the Natural History Museum. I wasn’t disappointed. Emerging from the tube at South Ken had me slack-jawed. I turned to Milky & demanded

‘Have you been here before ?’
‘Yes – why ?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me how utterly gorgeous this building is ?’
‘I was seven’ – he replied calmly.

The inside lived up to the promise of the exterior. I'm with Murray in finding natural objects more fulfilling to photograph than man-made ones. On this occasion though I'm happy to contradict myself. Everything about this building sums up what's laudable about English heritage & culture.



We got there shortly after opening, stayed until closing & still didn’t manage to see everything. My personal favourite was the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. £6 seemed a little steep until I saw the exhibition. Dozens of photos were displayed on wall-mounted back-lit plinths & in a smaller seated hangar-type enclosure a display of the best images from the last 20 years were running on a loop to a background of recorded natural sounds like cicadas & loons. Entrancing.

We left the building at dusk, which was a great time to appreciate the ice-rink. The trees around the rink had been draped in lights & they reflected off the rink like huge strings of shimmering pearls. A lovely day.

Nights is easily my favourite shift, partly because the work is more interesting, partly because the management don’t appear, but mostly because nights is when I have Barley. This means my routine is as follows … Leave work, take Barley for a 20 minute run in the freezing cold, go home, switch on electric blanket, make Weetabix with hot milk, get into toasty bed at 0700, get up at 1300, ride between 1400 & 1600 then back to bed by 1800 for another hour’s sleep. Riding with Barley adds a whole new dimension to the pleasure. The horses exercise Barley in a way I never could & there’s nothing finer than seeing Barley running flat-out alongside the horse. Speaking of which …

Happy Birthday Barley.



7 years young as of 26th November and only today a lady saw her whilst we were out riding & said ‘Ah he’s lovely, how old is your puppy ?’ People always think Barley is a boy ? Barley's present was a chicken dinner - it didn't last long.

Horses make life good.



I have ridden 6 days from the last 10 & each day has been different. Some have been misty & still.





Others have been clear & sharp. This was the sunset I was treated to coming off Mickleham Gallops on my favourite boy CB. This alone was worth getting out of bed for.



Thursday was blustery & dark. I love riding in the Winter, somehow it’s more cleansing & I’d rather wrap up against the cold than try & keep cool. I rode the mercurial Hannah. She has been off work for a while after a nasty fall & I entered her stable today with the warning from Kerry ‘Sorry she’s so wet, I had to hose her off after I found her sweaty from galloping around the field.' Hmmm.

We set off into the dark, oppressive, blowy Surrey woodland & my legs soon ached from hanging on as she spooked at every gremlin, real & perceived, lurking in the hedgerow. Such was her mood that 3 times she spooked at Barley who was dressed in a fluorescent coat.



How she could pretend to be surprised at a dog who could be seen for 5 miles I really don’t know. I found myself singing to her to calm her nerves (& mine). I often sing if I’m nervous whilst riding. Horses are very perceptive & can tell when a rider is holding their breath. Singing forces me to breathe in & out. Today’s chosen classics were ‘Rivers of Babylon’, ‘Silent Night’ and ‘Land of Hope & Glory’. I can’t think of a single compilation CD on which you would find those 3.

I have returned from every ride this week feeling calm, happy & physically & mentally invigorated. A small price to pay for losing a few hours sleep. I cannot urge everyone strongly enough, whatever ails you, go outside, do things with animals. That reads badly. You know what I mean.

5 days off now :)

Cx

Moving on up

I had been telling Mum for the past couple of months that I could definitely help her move on the 28th October and so, amazingly, given all the vagaries of the moving process Mum swung it for that day. Only for my tiny brain to comprehend that if I did it on that day it would be straight after night duty & on no sleep.

Should you ever decide to help someone move on little sleep, please, allow me to save you some time & just repeatedly slam your hand in a car door – it’s easier.

I left a very busy control room at 0200 on Friday morning, handing over to the Silver Fox who was busy guiding a prisoner through the drink drive process in custody. ‘Blow, keep going … keep going …keep going.’

I allowed the sounds of a night time nick in full swing to fade behind me as I piled into Henry & set off towards the M1.

After an impressive performance from Henry we arrived, delay-free in North Yorkshire at 0700. Declining Mum’s offer of tea & breakfast I flopped into bed & was asleep at 0720. Mum knocked on the door at 0815 to inform me the removal men would be arriving at 0830. If you’ve done nights you’ll know how I was feeling, if not, imagine going to work after a 24 hours long haul flight.

After persuading the moggies they would be happier in the bathroom, I started wrapping all the vases & pots in bubble wrap & lashings of packing tape. I thought it showed commendable confidence in me that Mum let me tackle the ‘fragiles’ then it occurred to me that at that stage of the game she didn’t care what I was doing as long as I was doing something. Meanwhile, after initially saying she wouldn’t have time to clean, Mum went from room to room, packing, cleaning & directing operations.

The removal men duly appeared, bluff, cheerful youngsters who worked solidly for the next 11 hours. They even remained on speaking terms whilst manoeuvering a wardrobe down an angled staircase, something which reduces me to a paroxysm of ‘inanimate object’ rage.

With scarcely a backward glance we left Mum’s cosy stone cottage & headed off for pastures new. Mum had described her new house to me on the phone but hadn’t really done it justice. The previous owner had left it in a condition where she could unpack & not have to do a thing.

He had left expensive light fittings, matching lamps, paintings, mirrors & wooden carved kitties. Going one step further there were a row of neatly labelled envelopes on the window sill, containing all the keys for the house & directions for ‘bin day’ as well as the mobile number of the local window cleaner. As if that wasn’t enough, upon entering the kitchen Mum found teabags & milk so that we could get on with the most important ‘moving-in tradition’.

What a gent, & not even gay, as he was moving out to live with a woman. Take a bow Mr. _______

The house is bright & airy & despite being in a less rural location than the last one, makes up for it by having commanding views over the hills towards the city skyline.

As Mum observed, the view is so far-reaching that ‘you can see the weather before it arrives.’

The best thing about the house was it felt like ‘home’ immediately, something evidenced by the cats who, upon being liberated from the bathroom, promptly walked around exploring. If you have cats, you’ll know that the moving process usually reduces them to slinky, nervous, wild creatures who will move from room to room on their bellies. Clancy & Hazel marched around, talking loudly, tails held aloft, checking & approving each new pile of boxes.

At 8pm we headed down to Doreen’s, aware that we were starving & intent on abusing her hospitality.

‘I measured it with ma eyes …’

Mum has often told me about Doreen & I knew I was in for an experience. It’s at times like these I wish my blog came with sound. Doreen is Maltese & has lived in Yorkshire since 16 so her accent is the most startling mix of rolling Mediterranean consonants & flat Yorkshire vowels.

If you’ve seen ‘League of Gentlemen’ Doreen’s speech cadence is very similar to that of Papa Lazarou.

She regaled us with stories from the moment we arrived to our departure & eyes twinkling she would frequently ask us ‘You taking the pee from me or what ?’

In the candle-lit gloom of her front room, she motioned to a piece of furniture & asked Mum if she liked it. ‘I can’t see it’, was Mum’s response, so Doreen put the ‘big light on’. Once we could see the piece in question Doreen explained that she had bought it at auction. She then found she could not fit it in the corner of the room she wished to because her bay window seat was too large. ‘S’ok though, cos I jus sawed through my window seat to make it fit.’

‘But Doreen’ I asked somewhat naively, ‘didn’t you measure it before you bought it ?’

‘Aw yeah’ came the breezy reply ‘I measured it with ma eyes.’

My other favourite was when she told us how, whilst watching tv one evening, she became aware the security light in her back garden was going on & off. Sneaking a look outside, she saw her neighbour cleaning her fence in the dark. She was activating Doreen’s security light by waving her arm in the direction of the sensor.

Using her front door to remain unseen, Doreen crept into her garage & the next time the security light was off she flicked the main power switch off with the explanation …

‘She’s not using ma bloody electricity to do her cleaning.’

Mum & I left, & headed for home, giggling in the dark & occasionally saying to one another …

‘I measured it with ma eyes.’

Excellent.

On Saturday after a good sleep we did some gentle unpacking, made one room box-free & took Barley for a leg stretch around Mum’s local park. It was a memory-fest for both of us ; Mum muttering to herself ‘& that’s where George, David & I used to go’ whilst looking at the shelters around the pond whilst I remembered sulking when being brought home from the circus at the same park because I had lost my beaded purse.

By all accounts I was a thoroughly unpleasant child to take anywhere, sulking because I didn’t want to stop playing to go anywhere in the first place, then sulking on the way home because I didn’t want to leave.

After a non-hassle heated up meal we lit the fire on Saturday evening & had a thoroughly pleasant time re-hashing family history. Or to put it more accurately I read one of Mum’s Everest books whilst Mum talked at me. Only joking Mum, it was a lovely evening. One by one the animals crowded around the fire until they were all prone & gasping & we agreed it was too hot & turned the fire off, much to the their dismay.

Sunday morning saw us moving pots & tubs from Doreen’s garden after another quick leg-stretch at the park & at midday I headed off for home, via Rutland to see Malcolm, Justine & the new arrival.

I arrived in Rutland at 3 & after a swift hello to baby & Malcolm, Justine & I were just in time to catch the end of her horse William’s jumping lesson. William is being exercised by a young girl whose name escapes me but she’s doing a great job with him & William looked a treat, full of energy & going beautifully on the bit.

On the journey back from the stables Justine & I discussed motherhood & everything that Justine said confirmed to me that I’m not ready now, if ever, to have my life disrupted to that extent. I know after 4 weeks of disrupted sleep it’s exhaustion speaking but Justine’s précis that ‘her life has been hi-jacked’ sounds a little too scary to me.

After a quick dog-walk, a cup of tea & a catch up on news, I left them in peace & headed for Surrey.

It says much for our roads that the journey which took me 3.5 hours at night time took me 7 hours in the daytime to get back. I wasn’t happy. It was with relief that I opened the door to the flat & dumped my luggage. Looking around I was amazed by what I saw. The flat which I had left in disarray at 0200 on Thursday was now immaculate at 2100 on Sunday ?

My mind struggled to explain what had happened. Tidy, cleaning burglars ? Seemed unlikely. The truth came out after a chat with Milky. Over the weekend we had talked on the phone & hearing lots of noise at his end I had asked him what he was doing ?

‘Just filling a sink’ came his reply & I envisaged him washing up at his place. ‘Would you mind not doing it until we’ve finished talking ?’ I asked him ‘I’m struggling to hear you.’ I felt like the world’s biggest bitch as it dawned on me that I’d asked him to stop cleaning & tidying my flat & he’d never said a word.

On Tuesday we headed off for some badly-needed outdoors time. Leith Hill was beckoning. I lived there some years ago & feel it’s pull at this time of year when I need to be with trees. Autumn has been spectacular so far & because we haven’t had a frost yet the trees have kept their leaves. Temperatures don’t dip below 16 in the daytime & last Thursday we hit 22 which isn’t bad for June, let alone October.

We walked all around the hill, accompanied by a mad, galloping Barley, or Barley Pie-Thief as she shall henceforth be known after stealing my lunch. It was a wonderful day, I could feel the mental kinks being ironed out & I revelled in happy memories of Gaynor & our walks there.



Trees are good



Do you want that pie ?



Colours to ease the soul.



Secret flat-cleaner & Pie thief


We rounded off the evening with a dinner in a delightful old country pub & then headed off for the M25 to take Barley home.

On Wednesday evening the girls came to mine for food, drinks & a catch up. The whole gang were in attendance, Weeny, Trudes, Cocky & the Lovely Ang aka Artichoke Lady & we calculated the last time we had all been together was 16 months ago last July at the now extinct Barn Dance. Cocky & I also realised that since I moved in, she hadn’t seen the flat, so it made sense for my place to be the venue.

I escaped any responsibility or effort by serving up heated party food. I reasoned that I didn’t want to be in the kitchen whilst they talked, otherwise I might miss something. Serving champagne distracted them from noticing that I hadn’t cooked anything.

We had several reasons to celebrate ; Weeny’s new job & Lovely Angie resigning from her job in which she ‘makes obnoxious French people wealthy’ amongst others.

Lovely Ang has taken the brave step, prompted by health concerns after her very frightening DVT episode to resign from her well-paid but stressful job with ridiculous travel to take up floristry. It says much about her that after only three Saturdays at a florists, they have offered her a full-time job. She cheerfully admits that she will find the huge difference in pay daunting but is adamant that her health comes first. Well done you.

And that’s about everything, Stan’s just texted me to say Murray’s told him to get on my case about not writing, so Murray … this one’s for you hippy.

On the agenda

Hotel in the Lakes early next week,
Dublin for Cocky’s birthday at the end of the week.

Have a great time, whatever your plans are.

Michelle – Get well soon.

Cx

So much for twice-weekly posts ...

Location : Blogging in bed. I'm with Michelle on this, as regarding it as one of the most decadent things you can do. The last time I blogged in bed was in my gorgeous little cottage off Cedar Lodge.

Time : 1700 Awake after my first night duty

Listening to : Radio 4

Sustenance : Just presented with a bacon & egg butty & a cup of tea.


I've been avoiding posting because I've missed so much, so the format of what I've done lately will have to be brief otherwise I'll never get around to it.

In reverse order ...

Thursday 20 Oct : Bob, Colin, Andy & I celebrate the Governor's birthday with a meal at a tapas bar.

We had a whip round & chose vouchers for a dive shop, which he was annoyed about because he said we had spent too much money. I know vouchers sounds unimaginative but as he's an experienced diver I couldn't begin to think what he wouldn't already have. We then foiled his plan to secretly pay for the meal by stuffing the money in his jacket pocket whilst he colluded with the waiter. 'Ba5tards' was what he shouted after feeling the money in his pocket whilst we all beat a hasty retreat into the night. At work we barely get a chance to speak properly to one another and so it was much appreciated to be able to take our time over a meal & tell a few war stories. A lovely evening & a great way to show our respect to a top boss.

Tue 18th Oct : Team do at TGi Fridays : Reason ? To celebrate the end of 4 early shifts.

Evenings out after the 4th early turn are characterised by initial high spirits, quickly becoming inebriated, then an overwhelming & desperate desire for sleep. Even the usually hard-drinking Dom fell asleep with his face in his ribs, whilst Ryan gleefully took advantage of a free meal. We left the hardened drinkers to it & were en route home by 9pm.

Monday 17th Oct : Girls night out at the cinema to see Pride & Prejudice with Trudy, Weeny & Cocky.

Weeny comes to mine, which gives us the chance, during the journey to Cocky's to catch up one her new job as a Scenes of Crime Officer. She gleefully informs me that she has taken her first blood swab that day & that she feels a charlatan at her new station being introduced in her new role. I look forward to the time when she turns up at my nick to 'do a scene'. The rest of us start at Cocky's so that the girls (7 months old now) & the latest work on the house can be oohed & aahed at. Cocky's front room is now decorated, which means the house is almost there. It is gorgeous. We had an excellent evening & it was a wonderful film, not even spoiled by Weeny muttering '...such an ugly dog' every time Keira Knightley smiled. We left feeling buoyed by the film & promising to obey men & curtsey when they entered the room. Right.

Friday 14th Oct : The South Coast

A shopping trip to the beautiful little marina-based development in Port Solent, which was a little too quiet. Followed by a trip to the mecca of all things in candledom - The Range, in Southampton. Michelle you would love this place. I came away with £849 worth of candles, plants & spring bulbs. I spent the following 2 days happily pottering in bulb fibre, pots, broken crocks & plant labels. I find planting spring bulbs wonderfully satisfying & the lack of garden at the flat doesn't put me off planning my potted Spring display. Hopefully, in Spring, there will be photos of narcissus, crocus & tulips. I chose a narcissus called 'Winston Churchill'. Hope they do him justice. I'm still on the look-out for my favourite Spring bulbs - snowdrops. Murray's Spring photos inspired me to make my little patch of town morebeautifull to look at.

Thursday 13th Oct : Spirit of the Horse : Ham Common, Richmond

'Wait til you see the beginning - you'll be transported' was how I lured an unsuspecting Milky into accompanying me to the grandiosely-titled event. I went a couple of years ago with Trudes & The Lovely Ang & was blown away by the opening.

It featured a magnificent grey Arab stallion, with ornate wings attached (sounds ludicrous I know, but I promise it was beautiful) The horse could only be seen in silhouette as he was behind a white silk screen & just for a few, magical seconds you really believed you were looking at the outline of a flying horse.

I had wittered on about the beginning during the whole journey to get there & as we hurriedly took our 'priority' seats, the lights dimmed. I clutched his arm in anticipation. The curtain dropped to a scene from Victorian England, ladies promenaded with parasols aloft, whilst gentlemen doffed their caps. When the horses finally did arrive, all they did was high-step round the outside of the ring in horribly contrived, artificial manner.

I hardly dared look at Milky but when I did he was smiling. Admittedly, he was smiling at my toe-curling discomfort, I just hoped things would get better. Fortunately, they did & by the time the Cossacks had done their stuff, we were both entranced. As one athletic soul hung from the side of his galloping steed by one foot, his head & shoulders bouncing from the sand surface of the arena, I excitedly shouted 'I can do that' thinking of some of my hairier moments with Hannah. Unfortunately, I was not able to recover from that position as he did to shouts of adoration from the audience.

Monday 3rd Oct : Return trip to the Black Mountains.

9 of us reconvened to pay our respects to South Wales on the 3rd October. 18 miles of 'little bit up, little bit down' was hugely rewarding & we treated ourselves to an evening of drunken Pictionary as a reward. Stuart's 'sinister flamingo' (parrot) proved that Pictionary is best when none of the contestants can draw. Did my spring of hill-walking training help me to keep up with my fitter colleagues ? Yes & no. Everyone still beat me to the top of the hills, but at least this time I kept walking up the hills. Slower than everyone else I grant you, but I still. kept. going.




Before the pain ...




'I'm a laydee ...'




The talent.



The Boss. And a hill. There's lots of these in Wales. Hills that is.




Men. Who aren't lost.



Home for one night.



Eager Pictionary contestants (l-r)Deb, Claire, Elaine, George, Dave, Stu (sinister flamingo) author, Guy, Roger.



The next morning. After the pain. Note glassy expressions.



5th October : Libra : Happy Birthday to Mummeh

Mummeh is in the process of moving & spends many an evening dislodging kitties from wonderful hidey holes to pack things into. As things stand the 28th looks like a moving date.
See you soon for our traditional family day of 'moving house'.


In other news, Justine (of Malcolm & Justine in Rutland renown) gave birth to baby Brook on the 3rd October. Despite being only a week overdue, she texted that she felt like performing seal & only wanted 'to go off & squat under a bush & have it' to avoid all the 'Have you had the baby ?' texts.

It gives me great pleasure to report that the person who has been harassing me at work has had a double dose of reality. A failure in a promotion exam has been followed up by an ignominious shift from a high-profile hands-on role to one which is glorified paper-shuffling. Sweet, sweet justice.

On the feeder front, I received a supportive e-mail from my landlord to the effect that he had told the Chairman of Interfering In Other People's Lives that he didn't agree that my feeders were attracting squirrels. He also told him to address any further concerns with me in person & to refrain from ringing me early in the morning on my home number. I was very pleased to receive my landlord's support & things have been quiet recently. Probably too quiet. The feeders to the side of the premises remain. I very much miss the ones on the front of the flat & I am no longer accompanied at breakfast time by colourful airborne guests.

TV Licence - No update, haven't posted my letter yet, primarily because MTM has been too lazy to write it. Nothing received from Michelle Tunstall & the mafia since their last missive.

So I'm doing nights again now - 1 down, 6 to go.

I promise to keep you updated with the stories of the night-time halfwits.

Two incidents vie for supremacy last night. The first concerns a disabled lady who determined to stop her wheelchair in front of a double-decker bus. Rachel & Sam were dispatched to persuade her otherwise. She took a violent dislike to Rachel & we didn't laugh much at all, witnessing, via CCTV, Rachel being dragged through traffic by the very determined lady. Rachel had taken a firm grip of the wheelchair, with the intention of pushing it & the occupant to safety. Rachel didn't find out until she was unceremoniously pulled behind the chair that it was electric. Rachel's request to Sam for 'some help please' was met by Sam laughing over the radio.

The second incident concerns 2 chav kids who decided to avail themselves of 2 bundles of day-old newspapers from outside a newsagents. After separating the bundles & helping themselves to the freebies, they left the papers to blow round, polluting the local area. Whilst Dom & Mark went to find the miscreants, a young fox found the papers. The wind was whipping them into delightful playthings & as fast as he pounced on & 'killed' one paper, another one skittered into life. By the time Dom & Mark returned with the litter-louts to make them tidy up their handiwork, the street resembled the aftermath of an origami convention. I'm sure they wondered how the papers ended up strewn far & wide, as the fox, watched by us on cctv, had made good his escape before their return. Easily the most delightful image in anotherwise frantic first night duty.

Messages

Bloo - 2nd place in the table ? It can't last can it ?

MTM - Apologies I haven't replied yet, it sounds a superb idea, I'm definitely up for it, I love that kind of music, can I bring 2 guests ?

The Lovely Ang - Any idea of a falconry date yet ? There is a Dermologica in VK, fancy a post-Christmas facial ?

Bill - E-mail sent to your work about 10 days ago, hope the move went well ?

Michelle - No reply to mine yet, what can you possibly be doing with your time, now the netball season has ended ?

Have to stop typing now - numb bum.

Cx