Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from January, 2019

Snowflake...

Well I don't know about you, but what a disappointment that was.  Looking out the window this morning, it was more Tate and Lyle than North Pole, and I resigned myself to a normal day (no day is normal at Binland, but you know what I mean).  It was all a bit Bambi on ice first thing this morning, but I drove into Binland at an average speed of 11mph (no real change there if I'm honest), and apart from a little slide on the last corner, arrived safe and sound.
So back to the white stuff.  I love walking the boys in the snow, as I get to see what they sniff each day.  Rabbit paws, fox claws and other woofer prints all get the once over by the boys, and it's almost like seeing things through their eyes.The most exciting thing happened on our walk today.  I saw a White Red Kite in the field next to my walk.  Apparently these are really rare, so I was really chuffed.  Blooming thing wouldn't sit still long enough for me to take a photo of it, but hopefully he'll be back.…

Smart girls...

I got a new Smart phone last week.  
It's pretty much the same as my old one, except for  the super-duper all-singing, all-dancing camera which does some really cool stuff.
I transferred everything over from the old phone to the new, feeling pretty pleased with myself as I sat in the lounge pressing the two phones together while the husband watched with a slightly amused look.  So my phone was now set up and I popped it back into the old phone case to protect it from the various knocks that it's subjected to on a daily basis.
Taking the phone out at the weekend, I took lots of photos on my dog walks, eager to see how much better they were going to be. Looking at the photos on Sunday, I realised that the hole for the camera viewer on my phone cover was, and always has been vertical.  The phone viewfinder (Is it still called that?  Sounds terribly old fashioned) was horizontal, so my first attempt at photos was a complete disaster.  
So I ordered a new case.  This came yesterday mor…

White as snow...

Have you checked your weather report this week?  
According to my favourite weather website, there is a 'Yellow' risk of snow over Tuesday night, with 'accumulations of up to one to three centimeters likely',  I don't know about you, but I've walked through puddles deeper than that, so I shan't start panicking just yet. I mean, one centimeter is shorter than my grass at the moment.  Mind you, if you have the misfortune to live several hundred meters above sea level, then your snow might reach the giddy depth of five centimeters, in which case, I'd pop some thick socks and your wellies on.
Actually, when did they move to centimeters?  I suppose that giving a prediction of a quarter of an inch to three quarters doesn't really have the same impact as the old metric stuff.
I'm not sure why our weather boffins feel the need to get us all revved up with a bit of snow.  Now don't get me wrong, I absolutely love the white stuff, but it's the disapp…

That smell...

I am writing this from my sofa, with every window and door open in the hope that by the time the husband returns from work the offensive all pervading smell might have subsided a little.
I suppose that you want all the details?
It's Reg's fault (it's always Reg's fault).  Coming home from the usual family breakfast, I stopped at the local pet shop for some advice on Reg's teeth.  You see, unlike Percy whose teeth could feature in a Colgate commercial, Reg's are less wholesome.  Having risked life, limb and digits trying to clean his teeth with a bit of textured rubber on the end of my finger, I then tried dental cleaning sticks which he sucked up like a Dyson, preferring to skip the obligatory chewing needed to clean the blooming teeth.
The lady in the pet shop was extremely helpful, suggesting that chewing was the way forward, and she pointed me to the part of the pet shop I hate.  Over the past two years, this area has got more and more grotesque with various an…

Wonderful tonight...

I don't know about you, but I always find that I cook better if I have an alcoholic beverage within reach of the hob.  I have no idea why.  Perhaps the alcohol makes me less stiff-knickered with my culinary attempts, making me more Keith Floyd than Gordon Ramsey.
I am cooking for the husband this evening.  The sight of him with the pathetic cheeseboard earlier in the week has remained planted firmly in my head, and roving around Aldi this afternoon, the guilt got the better of me.  And herein lies the problem.  When the last of the ankle biters vacated the premises, the husband said to me that he no longer wanted me to cook dinner for him every evening, and that he would be quite happy to forage in the fridge. There have been a number of times when I know he has regretted ever saying this (usually when the fridge is empty) but fair play to him, he has stuck to this decision quite stoically.
I used to be a really competent cook, and would host dinner parties often.  When the children…

Dream a little dream...

You'll remember how I was moaning like a ghost at Halloween how awful my week was last Friday.  With all of its cancellations and change of plans, I was truly glad to see the back of it.
This week has been so much better.  Let's face it, any week which starts by being holed up in a metal box for forty eight hours with the one you love has got to be the best of starts.  And after the edible chaos which is December, this week I finally managed to get my head (and fridge) in order with regard to eating the right things.  Perhaps I won't have to adjust the Rocky Horror shorts after all.
I've managed a lot of good walks with even better friends and two sessions of Pilates.  There's been no snacking or loitering around the crisp drawer and the wine bottles remain corked. Actually, the wine bottles are always corked as I am more of a gin drinker, but you know what I mean.
So it's a good end to January for which I am grateful (and slightly relieved as I have to don swimwe…

Cold night...

You'll be pleased to hear that my outfit for the Rocky Horror Picture Show has now all arrived.  I opened the big box first as I knew it was the gold top hat.  Well, this was an extremely pleasant surprise as firstly, it was fairly good quality, and secondly, it actually fit my rather round head.  Mind you, my hair was rather wild when I tried it on, and once I have the skull cap and the wig, it may be a little too big.  It could end up with the brim level with my eyes, and I'll run the risk of looking like a rather camp Freddy 'Parrot-Face' Davies.
So having been rather delighted with my hat, I set to with the other parcels, all of which were rather small.  First one was the shorts (one size fits all apparently, but I'll be the judge of that).  Well these were very wide as befitting a 'one size fits' all item of clothing.  But what they'd gained in width, they'd lost in length, and I held the shorts up wondering how much of my dignity would actually…

Train, train...

Oh but I've had a jolly morning today.
The Binland training which was booked then cancelled, then re-booked and cancelled finally took place this morning at our Depot in Colnbrook.
The talk was about confidential shredding.   The serious matter of disposing of personal information in a responsible manner (not to be confused with the shredding of a tissue in a coat pocket which can also be done in quite a confidential way).  This was a cross depot training session, so the sales teams from a couple of the other depots were there, along with me Master P, Master J and Mr W (my boss, young enough to be my son).  Naturally, I was the oldest one there by around twenty years, but this never seems to stop the boys from including me in their conversations, and I am often expected to join in and proffer up some small crumb of life wisdom over the course of their chats.
Today it was football.  Now this is not one of my stronger topics (I am a Portsmouth supporter, need I say more?) so I held bac…

King of the road...

There was a three way standoff on the country lane I was walking along this afternoon.
Coming from the left was a battered old Land Rover being driven by a little old man.  I'll be honest with you, from where I was standing, I couldn't be 100% sure that it was a man.  However, there was a trilby poking over the top of the steering wheel, so I think it's safe to assume.  Luckily, there were no corgis on the back seat, as I might have been making a completely different assumption...
Coming from the opposite direction were two cars.  The first was a small Nissan Micra with two old ladies in it.  Again, barely visible over the steering wheel to start with, but when the window was wound down and a tiny hand started waving at Land Rover man, you could tell that it was a lady (I should have been a detective).
The third car was a large Mercedes being driven by some executive on his way to somewhere important (that or a taxi, I wasn't quite sure).
The Land Rover and the Micra were …

Hit the road, Jack...

So the travellers have returned.

It's amazing what forty eight hours in the Wobble Box can achieve.  At the end of last week, the husband and I had struggled through a rather trying week involving cancelled plans and something which somebody saw on his new building site, which may or may not have resembled something like a bat.  BatGate brought the husband to a new low, and he was overjoyed to be hitting the open road on Friday without a Bat Lady in sight.
We weren't going far. These weekend jollies have a pre-determined limit of two hours' drive away, so that we're not stuck on some motorway of another with yours truly asking 'are we nearly there yet?' We had settled on a site in the Cotswolds and having eaten only half of our allotted travel sweeties we pulled into the site at around 5.00.  This is a first, as I've usually finished mine before we reach the A34.
Half an hour later, we had walked into town, fallen into the nearest pub, parked the dogs under th…

Picture this...

Thermal vest.....check Thermal socks.....check Thick walking trousers....check Scarf....check Thermal lined gloves....check Bobble hat.....check Christmas present coat which will keep you walk up to -50....check
After ten minutes of layering up, I was finally ready for my half hour walk with the dogs this morning before work.  I don't know whether you got the ten minute Arctic blizzard around 8.00 this morning, but I wasn't taking any chances with my walking apparel as you can tell.
Stepping outside, the dogs gave me that 'where's our cold weather apparel then?' look, and I dragged them across the now white field to do their ablutions.  There's something very special about your footprints being the first ones in snow, and although I am pretty sure that I am always the first dog walker in the field (no one else is that daft) actually seeing them is pretty special.  
It always reminds me of that scene in The Shining where the kids retrace their snowy footsteps to avoid th…

Damn it, Janet...

There is a good chance that I have to don my bikini in five weeks' time.  While you digest that fact, there is in fact, a rather more concerning event on the horizon.  This is more worrying as it's the week before the one where I have to don my bikini, so my legs will still have that mottled blue look like all of us British gals sport between November and April.
Some time ago, I suggested to Mrs S that she and her daughter (my god daughter) go out for the night with me and daughter number two (her god daughter....I hope you're keeping up).  There were a lot of suggestions bandied around such as tea at the Ritz or a day in a spa, but as we've already done those things, we settled on a live showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
'We are dressing up for this, aren't we?'  This was posed as a 'question' from Mrs S.  Having known her for almost thirty years now, I was very aware that this statement (for that is what it was) had no need for a question ma…

Makin' plans...

The last twenty four hours has been a very good example of one of The Father's favourite expressions.
'Order, Counter Order, Disorder'.
Appointments have been scuppered, meetings cancelled, meetings rearranged and then cancelled again and as a result of this, I don't know whether I'm on my derriere or my elbow.  
Last night was my Monday Pilates session.  Reluctantly hauling my leggings and warm coat on, I opened the door to leave, only to find myself face to face with my best friend Mrs S who'd popped in for a chat on her way home from work.  'You've got ten minutes', I said, settling myself down in a chair at the kitchen table.  Well we talked and we talked and generally put the world to rights.  'You better go', said Mrs S looking at her watch.  
Glancing up at the kitchen clock, I said to her, 'Not much point going now.  The class started half an hour ago, and by the time I get down there, it'll all be stretching down and whale music…

Sleepyhead...

The party on Saturday night took quite a toll on the husband.  Having refused me access to the remote control so that I could watch the snooker (I know, don't judge me) the husband dozed on and off all though his programme of choice, a repeat of a repeat of a repeat of Top Gear.  It was then onto Ski Sunday.  He stayed awake long enough to find out where the show was coming from this week, and promptly fell asleep yet again. Finally managing to wrestle the remote control from his vice like grip (this prompted a slurred, 'I'm not asleep'), I switched over to watch Countryfile.  Perfect Sunday viewing when you've had a late night and are looking for some gentle entertainment.
I'll be honest with you, there were a couple of moments on Countryfile when I glanced over to the husband to see whether it was him snorting or the gorillas on the show, but I simply turned the volume up a little to drown him out and watched my programme to the end.
As the credits came on, the…

Dancing queen...

Oh the joys of the menopausal migraine....
Of course, I am blaming the dreaded hormone deficiency, but could it have been down to the consumption of the equivalent of my body weight in Quality Streets?  Or the Prosecco over New Year?  Or maybe the eight square inch piece of remaining Christmas cake which was polished off over four days?
Well whatever it was, it caused quite a ruckus in the Bird House, as I floated through seventy two hours on a pink cloud mainly comprised of Anadin, my special migraine tablets and bed.  The tablets I get from the doctor are pretty hardcore, and leave me with a mouth like the bottom of a parrot's cage.  I did manage to get into work (not sure I actually achieved much, but like Elvis, at least I was in the building) and Master P and Master J kept the fragile fossil in the corner of the Sales Cupboard tanked up with many mugs of tea.  Talking of tea, the husband did raise the possibility that my beverage of choice might actually be the cause of my head…

Cuts both ways...

Percy and Reg were back at the groomers this morning for a 'Wash 'n' Blow. If you remember from blogs gone by, Reg always seems to be rather closely clipped around the undercarriage, leaving me imagining him reversing into the groomer's clippers with a 'Yeah, baby', a la Austin Powers.  Today was no different, although the area of close shave was a lot larger than usual.  
Following the two fuzzy bottoms along the path this afternoon, I took a closer look at Reg's rear end.  It was pink.  Now I'd understand if it was grey or black, but pink?  Checking Percy's rear end which was definitely grey, I glanced back at Reg (he'd stopped for some rabbit hole investigation, so I had a chance for a closer look).  It was definitely pink.
This is what I reckon had happened.  Not content with the 'standard Schnauzer cut' which I had asked for, he had demanded a Grade 1 over his backside.  I would imagine that the conversation (if he could talk) would h…

Patience...

What's that they say about patience paying off?  
People who know me always say that I am the most impatient person they know, but there are some things that are definitely worth waiting for.  If you remember (trawling back to the giddiness of Christmas) the husband went down on one knee and presented me with a beautiful eternity ring, celebrating forty years since we snogged at an under 16's disco.  This was bought from my local jeweller, a chap who I've been going to for over twenty five years.  Over the years, I have bought various items from him, had rings reset and repaired and sometimes (a little bit sneakily) gone in to get my diamonds buffed up.  We are now on first name terms, so you'll understand that I didn't want anyone to mess around with my gorgeous eternity ring other than him.  It was a tad small you see and needed stretching out a bit to fit my sausage fingers.  
As of today, I have been waiting for Christmas to end, waiting for the Bank Holidays to …

Face down...

Today, on my Facebook memories, the video at the end of my ramblings came up.  It involves an ice rink, a polar bear and several re-takes of an advertising shoot.
It reminds me of my lifelong Battle of the Bulge.  I pootle along quite nicely, with the weight dropping off slowly, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, some kind soul draws me away from the straight and narrow with a piece of cake.  But over the last year, for the first time ever I must add, I seem to have managed not to stray too far from the path, and my weight has stayed fairly stable with a two or three pound leeway.  This prompted my New Year's Resolution which I touched on yesterday, not to buy any new clothes for 2019 (other than a dress for the vow renewal in Vegas later this year).  
Over the years, because I have been a yo-yo dieter of epic proportions, with my lightest and heaviest weights sometimes being three stone apart, I have had to go and buy clothes out of necessity.  But I reckon that I should be able…

I'm gonna be strong...

Well after a total of fourteen hours at work this week, I was ready for the weekend.  You should get some kind of medal for turning up in the days after Christmas and New Year, because let's face it, we'll all still running on alcohol, mince pies and Daniel Craig films (or was that just me?) till at least Valentines Day.
I managed to finish the foot square Christmas cake this afternoon.  If this had been an Olympic event, a medal would definitely have been in the offing.  As you probably guess, I make my own cake so am loathe to simply throw it away when Christmas is over.  All that turning and feeding (talking about the cake here) means the cake has to be shown some respect, and as the last bit found its way onto a tea plate this afternoon, I finally admitted to myself that Christmas was definitely over for another year.
But you know when you take all the tinsel and lights down, there is always one decoration which gets left behind.  This usually manages to get a stay of execut…

I fought the law...

Finishing work at lunchtime today, I realised that Christmas and the New Year were now a distant memory.  Unfortunately, what is also a distant memory is my waistline courtesy of all the leftover chocolate, biscuits and cake which has been floating around Binland this week.  In the space of four hours today, I manged to polish off half a chocolate elf, four custard creams and a slice of orange cake.  All this sandwiched between a sensible breakfast and a salad lunch.  Hopefully, by Monday everything that hasn't been eaten will simply be out of date and no longer leading me and my colleagues astray.
I can but hope.
Son number two appeared back at home last night.  He is celebrating a friend's 21st birthday on Saturday so is hanging around here till the weekend.  As you know, he is currently stationed up North studying for a law degree.  Now when I come home on a Friday afternoon, I normally flop down on the sofa with a cup of tea and a bit of Tipping Point, but when he is here, h…

Borderline...

I'd like to talk about something which the husband said over Christmas..
One of my presents from the husband was a week away in our Wobble Box to Scotland, a country I have always wanted to visit.  To date, the nearest I have got is Hadrian's Wall, so this trip is long overdue.
The husband felt that this was a huge sacrifice on his part as he claims to 'dislike Scotland and all Scottish people'.  By now, I hope that you all know the husband well enough to realise that this is never said in malice, and on Christmas Day, a day of peace and goodwill to all men, I asked him why he didn't like this most Northern outpost of our United Kingdom.  As you can imagine, he had  no reason at all, but I wasn't prepared to let this go.  
'Have you ever been to Scotland?'  I asked him. 
'No'.
Well how far north have you actually been then?'
'Well I've been to Leeds'.
After some googling, I ascertained that the nearest he'd got to crossing the borde…