Posts

All by myself...

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I bet you've been wondering where I've been the last few days?  To be honest, I'm asking myself much the same question, and here's the reason why.
The husband has been away for the past week, only returning last night on a filthy motorbike with matching Gor-Tex accessories courtesy of a large puddle up a mountain in Portugal.  He's had a whale of a time, and judging by the look of the straining bike wear, much beer was drunk.  He has done this week away for the past three years or so, and every year I imagine all the wonderful things I am going to do without him here.  My needs are small as you know ladies, and the virtual list in my head usually involves:
Good books Early nights A few lost pounds A complete clear out of every cupboard and drawer in the house.
As at 7.00pm last night, I hadn't even scratched the surface and I'm pleased to report that I actually achieved the following:
One good book Not a single early night Two pounds gained One kitchen cupboard and t…

Walking on sunshine...

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I was walking home after yet another walk with the woofers yesterday, when it suddenly hit me...
Schlepping along the road in my short wellies, a dress and an old hand me down quilted jacket (cuffs rolled up as its previous owner was a 6' tall man).  A dog whistle hung round my neck, and poop bags and dog biscuits in every pocket, wet hair crammed into a dubious looking beanie hat from some sporting event and a small black mark just below one eye where a wet branch had thwacked me as I ferreted around in the undergrowth looking for some delightful offering from Reg.
So it's happened.
I have turned into Barbara Woodhouse.  
All I need to complete the image is a knee length kilt and a pair of American Tan tights and I should be really grateful that the clothes buying embargo is still in full force for another two months, two weeks and a day.
The nearer I get to being able to hit the shops, the harder it gets every time I look into my sorry looking wardrobe.  There have been a co…

Spice up your life...

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You'll be impressed to learn that I seem to have finally mastered the new Binland computer system.  I'm not saying it's been easy (hair has been pulled out, alcohol has been imbibed on a Friday afternoon and there has been some abundant and rich swearing from yours truly - this is confined to my car when I leave Binland as I wouldn't want to sully the ears of the little cherubs I work with.  
Now there are three of us in the sales team at Binland, and one of us (not mentioning any names in case the boss is reading) is dragging his feet a little when moving across from handwritten contracts to computerized ones.  So myself and my other colleague decided today that it would be a grand wheeze to hide the old fashioned contracts to dissuade him from using them anymore.  This may sound harsh, but now that I have got the hang of this new system, I do see its benefits, so naturally, I want the whole team working from the same hymn sheet.  
When I left Binland at lunchtime, he w…

Time for Bedlam...

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What a few days I've had.  I'll be honest with you, I've been in my pyjamas since 5.07pm and would imagine that by 9.00pm I'll be heading wearily upstairs.
Yesterday was the annual Schnauzerfest walk.  Last year's was interesting to say the least, and for several weeks afterwards was referred to as Shagfest because of Percy, who, after several years of celibacy discovered he had a sex drive courtesy of a bearded little strumpet whose name escapes me.  So you'll appreciate my trepidation as I pulled up in the car park of Wittenham Clumps with my dogs, daughter number two and best friend Mrs S.  
This year, I had made the brilliant decision to rope in as many helpers as possible and it worked.  The walk went smoothly with thirty seven schnauzers walking together to help raise money for other schnauzers who are rescued from lives of hell.  The money we raise is spent on getting them physically better, and then the wonderful folk at the Diana Brimblecombe Animal Resc…

Sugar, sugar...

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I'd like to say that I am getting my head around the new computer system at Binland.  I'd like to, but unfortunately this could mean some rather extensive Pinocchio-life nose stretching, so I had better keep quiet.  Time is a great healer, they say, but has anyone ever said that time is a great teacher?'  No.  I thought not.  Anyway, I shall persevere, reminding myself every hour of one of the husband's favourites adages...
'How hard can it be?'
There is an answer to that, of course, but as a lady in polite society, I'll keep my gob shut.
But to more positive stuff.  The cakes are now in the building in preparation for my Schnauzerfest walk on Saturday.  Naturally, the weather forecast for the morning is falling somewhere between 'wet' and 'Apocalypse' so I thought that the least I could do was to supply some fairy cakes and flapjacks (like that's going to take your mind off trench foot).  
I have tried to be a little clever this year and ha…

Systematic...

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Have you heard of the phrase involving an old dog and some new tricks?  Of course you have, and this describes the last two weeks of my life quite neatly.
We have a new computer system at Binland you see, and for someone who is a bit of a Luddite where anything IT is concerned, it's been a bit of a struggle for me.  I'm not the only one, I am pleased to say.  Masters P and J, and also Mr W (my 'young enough to be a distant nephew' boss) have also found it a bit of a challenge.  As Master P put it the other day, 'It's a bit like giving a Spitfire to a five year old and saying, 'Off you go then - Kent's that way'.
I'm sure that as time goes by I'll get the hang of it, but at the moment it feels like a two horse race between me learning it and my possible demise.  Hopefully, my brain will outdo my three score and ten...
As I write, I am surrounded by dog biscuits, paper bags and an over sized photo frame.  All in readiness for Saturday's Schna…

Sink or swim...

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The husband has been away from home for the last two nights.  He's been cooped up in daughter number two's flat installing a new bathroom for her, surrounded not only by the usual loo, sink and basin, but several thousand empty bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body moisturizer, fake tan and hair serum.  He had to arrange a skip for the old bathroom, and I am convinced that the skip's contents will be mainly plastic bottles and containers with an old loo perched on top.
I'm not too sure where she got this habit from of being unable to throw anything away.  I myself have to show real self control when my shampoo is less than half full.  Mind you this isn't because of any OCD issue but more the fact that a less than full shampoo bottle refuses to stay on my wonky shower rack.
And here lies my real issue...
I have been waiting for a new bathroom for the best part of seven years.  Daughter number two has had to wait a measly five months before getting her shiny new en-suit…