1937 I’m in my free points, upgraded, !smoking! room in the Churchill Hyatt with a free bottle of Drappier champagne on ice, and the worm in the apple is that Mark’s not here so smoking is almost irrelevant (honest injun, I don’t have a problem not being able to smoke in hotel rooms), the technology nightmare continues so I can get on my company internet but not anywhere else so I’m drinking a rather expensive half bottle of red wine from the minibar and hoping my scribbled note from the office will get me from here to Fenchurch Street. I can’t quite bring myself to open the champagne since I know I won’t drink it all, and feel a bit of a billy-no-mates since I can’t think of anyone I’d want to, who might want to, share my room except Mark, or Paula, who’s incommunicado, or my sister, who’s in a different country. Ought to be going orf to the London munch since that was my plan. SUCH a long time since I was there and I hope they haven’t changed the venue as I can’t get on tinternet to check! Ssssssssake! I carted my CG laptop in my suitcase AND the other one today on the basis I can get to the net using my mobile broadband and it won’t complain. So much for that! There’s obviously some new draconian rule been applied or I’ve done something kinda stupid. I tend to the latter. Maybe I shouldn’t have done the official VPN thing, but it works fine at home!
Alongside, I’m kinda cool. I deserve this, I deserve to make use of the accumulated points from months working away from home. One thing, I didn’t have ST high on my list so I have nothing suitable to wear, the thought of the theatre appeals despite not having anything suitable to wear there either but no-one will know me in a theatre so that’s OK too.
BAH! Again, I can’t check what’s on cos I can’t get to the net! Rugby on the telly now – seems Wales got further on but half the team clearly don’t know the words to their chosen anthem. Bit sad that. I should take myself to Paris too, not for rugby but just to visit - ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that supersexy French chap is on the screen; I so want to corrupt his apparent blond innocence, he’d probably corrupt ME if I was the right age, but I can do the daydream thing. Tempting to watch it, I could have shared this with Pam if I’d ever got to a proper match rather than university ones. It’s not nearly as cool on a hotel TV as on a pub big screen though.
2002 off to see the elephant. Bit of slap to show I made an effort and this won’t get blogged till Sunday night or Monday unless I figure out what idiocy I’ve perpetrated on the machine.
Friday 27 February 2009
Thursday 26 February 2009
losing the plot here
Today was technology hate day, some of my friends are in purgatory with collapsed relationships, I broke yet another fine wine glass for the imbibing of scotch and coke last night (bare feet as usual, dodgy eyesight and shards of fine crystal waiting to ambush me in the kitchen) so I decided to go back to the vine and am feeling half-trashed after ermm, is it one, or two? The backup nice big wine glasses have been targeted for line-of-fire but I'm slumming it with a boring normal-size glass for the moment.
Mostly, I'm in the happy state of "who gives a flying" which is pleasant but not useful. I OUGHT to be sorting out the work I should have done today instead of playing 2-second tag with the wireless connection for work, but it holds no appeal. Yes, I know I'll suffer for it tomorrow, but that's a cue for a Vivienne Leigh (Scarlett O'Hara)quote.
Tomorrow, I need to get up at silly o'clock and get myself and suitcase to London for a dismal day in a dismal office trying to catch up with the impossibility of reading and assimilating a medium size library to reflect it in the document I have to issue. (Still on Scarlett O'Hara here)
However!!!!!! Assuming I get the suitcase together, or convince myself that clothes-shopping on Saturday is justified, I can swan off to the posh(?) hotel that I've booked for Fri/Sat and just chill or venture off to Fenchurch Street for a bit of a gal get-together alongside a visit to the Elephant to see Goth and whoever else is there.
Really looking forward to the weekend, will sort it all out tomorrow - probably....
Mostly, I'm in the happy state of "who gives a flying" which is pleasant but not useful. I OUGHT to be sorting out the work I should have done today instead of playing 2-second tag with the wireless connection for work, but it holds no appeal. Yes, I know I'll suffer for it tomorrow, but that's a cue for a Vivienne Leigh (Scarlett O'Hara)quote.
Tomorrow, I need to get up at silly o'clock and get myself and suitcase to London for a dismal day in a dismal office trying to catch up with the impossibility of reading and assimilating a medium size library to reflect it in the document I have to issue. (Still on Scarlett O'Hara here)
However!!!!!! Assuming I get the suitcase together, or convince myself that clothes-shopping on Saturday is justified, I can swan off to the posh(?) hotel that I've booked for Fri/Sat and just chill or venture off to Fenchurch Street for a bit of a gal get-together alongside a visit to the Elephant to see Goth and whoever else is there.
Really looking forward to the weekend, will sort it all out tomorrow - probably....
Friday 20 February 2009
the fox escaped me
Missed this Doris Lindner fox :( I thought £55 was maybe enough and it wasn't. I feel surprisingly disappointed.
Wednesday 18 February 2009
Vinegar
Music is good, I haven't been listening to enough of it lately but restocked the CD player tonight to listen to Vinegar Joe at wall-rattling volume, now moved on to the Everly brothers and considering getting stuff ready for another early morning tour first thing tomorrow.
I hate going places for the first time, I almost always get lost, and arrive in a fret which spoils whatever it is I am meant to be doing when I get there. Wish me luck, mutimap directions are get to the M3, drive 14 miles, arrive at your destination. wtf kind of directions are those? My boss was there yesterday and tells me his lift told him it's "easier from the motorway", hmmmppphhhhh
Blair has been on the phone, all cool and casual about setting off for New Zealand for a month; wish I'd done something as exciting when I was 21!
Catch-up, garage has collected the broken Mazda, the hire people have graciously declared they'll get off my back now and follow it up themselves; undoubtedly it will be written off as an uneconomical repair. Replacing the headlight on an ancient wagon would be uneconomical for any proper lot who prefer dealing with company lease cars which have never had to suffer an MOT or replace a tyre.
Kitchen stuff is slowly moving back into the cupboards from various bags and boxes strewn around the house, it's weird how my mind pictures the kitchen the way it was so I know where things are, except they're not. Another 2 cubic feet of clothes were evicted and sent over to Rachel's fill-a-classroom PTA project, mysteriously there still isn't any room in the wardrobes, or drawers, and not much on the furniture or the floor either.
Work schedule for the next week looks just as evil as the last couple of weeks (Fleet tomorrow, possibly London -again- on Friday, Telford Monday, Southend Tuesday, anybody's guess for the rest of the week!) Light at the end of the tunnel is that I should be done with this project in a couple of weeks and hopefully get one that lasts longer and doesn't jink about as much.
The calendar is full of arrangements but I managed to book the London Hyatt for a couple of nights at the end of the month AND to remember I have Marriott points too which I will use for an early March birthday instead of paying for a Travel Lodge or having to stay sober so I can drive.
Right, that's it: totally boring, nothing exciting or amusing, I must be getting old.
I hate going places for the first time, I almost always get lost, and arrive in a fret which spoils whatever it is I am meant to be doing when I get there. Wish me luck, mutimap directions are get to the M3, drive 14 miles, arrive at your destination. wtf kind of directions are those? My boss was there yesterday and tells me his lift told him it's "easier from the motorway", hmmmppphhhhh
Blair has been on the phone, all cool and casual about setting off for New Zealand for a month; wish I'd done something as exciting when I was 21!
Catch-up, garage has collected the broken Mazda, the hire people have graciously declared they'll get off my back now and follow it up themselves; undoubtedly it will be written off as an uneconomical repair. Replacing the headlight on an ancient wagon would be uneconomical for any proper lot who prefer dealing with company lease cars which have never had to suffer an MOT or replace a tyre.
Kitchen stuff is slowly moving back into the cupboards from various bags and boxes strewn around the house, it's weird how my mind pictures the kitchen the way it was so I know where things are, except they're not. Another 2 cubic feet of clothes were evicted and sent over to Rachel's fill-a-classroom PTA project, mysteriously there still isn't any room in the wardrobes, or drawers, and not much on the furniture or the floor either.
Work schedule for the next week looks just as evil as the last couple of weeks (Fleet tomorrow, possibly London -again- on Friday, Telford Monday, Southend Tuesday, anybody's guess for the rest of the week!) Light at the end of the tunnel is that I should be done with this project in a couple of weeks and hopefully get one that lasts longer and doesn't jink about as much.
The calendar is full of arrangements but I managed to book the London Hyatt for a couple of nights at the end of the month AND to remember I have Marriott points too which I will use for an early March birthday instead of paying for a Travel Lodge or having to stay sober so I can drive.
Right, that's it: totally boring, nothing exciting or amusing, I must be getting old.
Monday 16 February 2009
morning is broken
I so detest morning. First cup of coffee is finished and I don't feel awake and alive but I still have to go to work.
The weekend was wonderful (I'll write it up later) and I have a fabulous new red hat; star fishing was amazing, I managed to dance past all sorts of disasters in waiting
The weekend was wonderful (I'll write it up later) and I have a fabulous new red hat; star fishing was amazing, I managed to dance past all sorts of disasters in waiting
tired
It's morning and ~ I am so not in the mood to go to work. Nearly at the end of the first cup of coffee and it's not working.
Weekend was wonderful, kitchen is looking better all the time, and I have a fabulous new red hat. I'll post about it later, including the grins on the faces of the train manager chaps who retrieved the bag I'd left on the train: contents, one relegated black fedora with sophisticated red hatpin, one pair of stockings with red ribbon on the tops, one black and red six string suspender belt. Think it made their day. Getting it back made mine.
Weekend was wonderful, kitchen is looking better all the time, and I have a fabulous new red hat. I'll post about it later, including the grins on the faces of the train manager chaps who retrieved the bag I'd left on the train: contents, one relegated black fedora with sophisticated red hatpin, one pair of stockings with red ribbon on the tops, one black and red six string suspender belt. Think it made their day. Getting it back made mine.
St Raphael
090216 0100 Wonderful weekend J
Friday was incredibly long and mostly boring, Telford isn’t exactly across the road, and traffic coming back was very snarly. The big dent in the front wing of the red devil wasn’t making me happy either.
However, Friday seems like a long, long time ago now. My brother had reappeared in the early hours, the work he went home to do having dematerialised, and tonight the kitchen is looking quite splendid with all the cupboard doors attached, not a handle in sight except for the three drawers, in part because first thing Friday morning included a high-level discussion on cupboard door-opening design and it has all worked perfectly. I will gloss over the interminable drive to Telford and the heady bliss of finding that the person who was meant to be meeting me there was out sick. At least I got the new laptop and, finally, access to information I need to be able to do my job.
Birmingham is hardly the first pick for a romantic weekend, but it proved to be possible, rugby games included. I decided to take the train instead of driving, in part because I found out a supersaver return is only £3 more than overnight parking at the hotel, a bit of a classic time trip (up) was rescued when Gordon drove me to the station for the connection to Birmingham rather than the lost cause of catching the train I should have got from Aylesbury. All sweet, a good book to read and a text from Mark to say he was on his, and would get there an hour after I did, time to check in and relax a bit instead of the niggling twitch that he’d catch me on the back foot again, checked in and been out for a wander before I even arrived. (He confessed later that he didn’t even wake up till he got MY text saying I was on the train!) Shortly after, another text to say he might have to turn back to deal with a family emergency gloom. I did the decent thing and said it was OK then got back into my book and ignored the internal weather till I got to Brum.
I even WALKED from the station to the hotel, it all looked terribly familiar having worked there for nearly eight months last year, and there was a lovely sense of freedom in knowing I absolutely didn’t have to go into the office. All that time in corporate heaven did, however, gain me four free nights which I have to use or lose before the end of the month.
The porters on the concierge desk remembered me, and were all smiles and hellos, as was Amy on the front desk who made a good effort to get me to change my mind about cancelling the Sunday night (poker on his part and having to be in London first thing Monday on mine)and also made absolutely sure I had my superstar status free bottle of vino sent up. I’d decided Mark probably wasn't coming, so I read the spa menu carefully and decided I deserved the most expensive massage option for a properly sybaritic interlude if I was on my own. Only after that did I call to find out which direction he was heading. Hurrah! emergency downgraded and still on the train heading north, so I celebrated by walking over to meet him at the station. WTF is all this walking business? I’m allergic to exercise!
We got to the hotel, had already established that the Scotland/France match started at 3 and the first I knew we weren’t staying in to watch it was an incredulous ‘what are you doing with your coat?’ So I stopped taking it off and we went watching rugby, drinking (the chap in the England rugby shirt fending off the French foray to take my bar stool by telling them a Scot would be back any second) We won the bar stool but Scotland lost the match. The all-afternoon and early evening drinking seemed quite decorous really, with some more walking about before going to an Irish pub to watch the England/Wales match (England lost), so we were both a bit cross-eyed by the time we got back to the hotel. I spent the spa money on a couple of Johnny Blues for us before we retired to the room to hit the Johnny Black. We did order room service to soak some of it up, but everything had got a bit very fuzzy by then. We played an interesting variation of blind, man, and buff before heading for z's in the huge and comfortable bed.
Not having got a room on the the right floor to use the Regency Lounge for free breakfast, we managed not to use the card to order one. No milk for tea and naff coffee, but we slept for a properly long time in the morning before checking out about one second before we had to. Next on the menu was a liquid lunch on the way to the station in a nice, peaceful, ordinary pub. The poker king was delayed further by taking me to a hat shop where a bright red fedora was duly purchased before he got on the train back to London and I got on the shopping trail.
~ edit/update to follow, probably: maybe
Friday was incredibly long and mostly boring, Telford isn’t exactly across the road, and traffic coming back was very snarly. The big dent in the front wing of the red devil wasn’t making me happy either.
However, Friday seems like a long, long time ago now. My brother had reappeared in the early hours, the work he went home to do having dematerialised, and tonight the kitchen is looking quite splendid with all the cupboard doors attached, not a handle in sight except for the three drawers, in part because first thing Friday morning included a high-level discussion on cupboard door-opening design and it has all worked perfectly. I will gloss over the interminable drive to Telford and the heady bliss of finding that the person who was meant to be meeting me there was out sick. At least I got the new laptop and, finally, access to information I need to be able to do my job.
Birmingham is hardly the first pick for a romantic weekend, but it proved to be possible, rugby games included. I decided to take the train instead of driving, in part because I found out a supersaver return is only £3 more than overnight parking at the hotel, a bit of a classic time trip (up) was rescued when Gordon drove me to the station for the connection to Birmingham rather than the lost cause of catching the train I should have got from Aylesbury. All sweet, a good book to read and a text from Mark to say he was on his, and would get there an hour after I did, time to check in and relax a bit instead of the niggling twitch that he’d catch me on the back foot again, checked in and been out for a wander before I even arrived. (He confessed later that he didn’t even wake up till he got MY text saying I was on the train!) Shortly after, another text to say he might have to turn back to deal with a family emergency gloom. I did the decent thing and said it was OK then got back into my book and ignored the internal weather till I got to Brum.
I even WALKED from the station to the hotel, it all looked terribly familiar having worked there for nearly eight months last year, and there was a lovely sense of freedom in knowing I absolutely didn’t have to go into the office. All that time in corporate heaven did, however, gain me four free nights which I have to use or lose before the end of the month.
The porters on the concierge desk remembered me, and were all smiles and hellos, as was Amy on the front desk who made a good effort to get me to change my mind about cancelling the Sunday night (poker on his part and having to be in London first thing Monday on mine)and also made absolutely sure I had my superstar status free bottle of vino sent up. I’d decided Mark probably wasn't coming, so I read the spa menu carefully and decided I deserved the most expensive massage option for a properly sybaritic interlude if I was on my own. Only after that did I call to find out which direction he was heading. Hurrah! emergency downgraded and still on the train heading north, so I celebrated by walking over to meet him at the station. WTF is all this walking business? I’m allergic to exercise!
We got to the hotel, had already established that the Scotland/France match started at 3 and the first I knew we weren’t staying in to watch it was an incredulous ‘what are you doing with your coat?’ So I stopped taking it off and we went watching rugby, drinking (the chap in the England rugby shirt fending off the French foray to take my bar stool by telling them a Scot would be back any second) We won the bar stool but Scotland lost the match. The all-afternoon and early evening drinking seemed quite decorous really, with some more walking about before going to an Irish pub to watch the England/Wales match (England lost), so we were both a bit cross-eyed by the time we got back to the hotel. I spent the spa money on a couple of Johnny Blues for us before we retired to the room to hit the Johnny Black. We did order room service to soak some of it up, but everything had got a bit very fuzzy by then. We played an interesting variation of blind, man, and buff before heading for z's in the huge and comfortable bed.
Not having got a room on the the right floor to use the Regency Lounge for free breakfast, we managed not to use the card to order one. No milk for tea and naff coffee, but we slept for a properly long time in the morning before checking out about one second before we had to. Next on the menu was a liquid lunch on the way to the station in a nice, peaceful, ordinary pub. The poker king was delayed further by taking me to a hat shop where a bright red fedora was duly purchased before he got on the train back to London and I got on the shopping trail.
~ edit/update to follow, probably: maybe
Thursday 12 February 2009
travelling
Having done the super-sensible thing and arranged to stay overnight near Southend on Tuesday ready for a meeting yesterday morning, I got caught in the office and didn't leave till 5pm, not really a good time to go driving but traffic was moving nicely and I had plenty of time to do the 40 miles to get to St Pauls. Argued with myself all the way to the M25 if I was going to go adventuring in London traffic to get to the LLM or just go home. Two hours to home, hour and a half to St Pauls, said multimap.
Adventuring won on the basis that I'd be really teed off if I missed it, and I was unfairly punished by an hour long crawl on the A12 because of an accident in the Blackwall tunnel, which I didn't want or need to use. Crawling might have been faster than sitting in the car, but the music was good. Maybe I should get myself a satnav that works, memorising the easy bits and following signs for the rest isn't the most effective form of navigation.
In my inimitable style I'd managed to get lost about a mile from St Pauls; causing another long internal debate about whether it was worth it, especially since, by then, I was in a filthy temper. Sheer cussedness won the day and I got my are-you-coming-tonight call from Paula just as I drove past the front of the wine bar. Another ten minutes at least to figure out where I could park and to find a place to turn round and go back; kerbing the bloody wheel on the way. Kerbs are NOT supposed to be a foot high!
Three hours. THREE hours!!! sssssssssssssssssake!
Peace and good cheer ensued when I did finally arrive, turned down the wine since I don't seem to have any gap between getting and being drunk with wine, and treated myself to a double Balvenie and coke for measured solace. LLM was really good, lot of laughs including Nikki losing the plot and spluttering the ice back in her drink when someone airily mentioned sex. OK, so there was rather more to it than that but you had to have been there.
Anyone used to driving in London knows that crossing Waterloo Bridge is entirely unnecessary either to get to St Pauls from Southend, or to get back to Aylesbury from there, but I did. Four times in all. At least I finally found one of the few routes I do know but then got an itchy head about Mark and called him; it would have been rude to be within half a mile and not see if he was in. It's all *his* fault. The drink waiting for me on the coffee table was most welcome, hot, and non-alcoholic, as planned. Plans to go home went a bit awry and a fair amount of scotch and coke followed it, so I was bushbaby zinged till silly o'clock. Doubtless he blames *me*.
He made me cry! Well, watching "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" had me in tears, despite having been warned and seeing it coming.
Past tired now I'm home; forgot I set the first alarm for 7:30 and got up then instead of having the extra half hour before racing the traffic warden to my car; Boris Johnson is welcome to his £8, it was worth the extra 90 minutes even if it is entirely extortionate for a half mile escape from the congestion zone. But NOW I've discovered I have to go to Telford tomorrow - deep joy, not. I could go this afternoon but I'd probably fall asleep on the motorway.
"Love is" - sticking to your Valentine arrangements even when you find out Six Nations is on the box. Dinner will be en suite or very late.
ahhhhhhhhh, and Mark sent me these
1
2
*edited once I remembered how to do links properly
Adventuring won on the basis that I'd be really teed off if I missed it, and I was unfairly punished by an hour long crawl on the A12 because of an accident in the Blackwall tunnel, which I didn't want or need to use. Crawling might have been faster than sitting in the car, but the music was good. Maybe I should get myself a satnav that works, memorising the easy bits and following signs for the rest isn't the most effective form of navigation.
In my inimitable style I'd managed to get lost about a mile from St Pauls; causing another long internal debate about whether it was worth it, especially since, by then, I was in a filthy temper. Sheer cussedness won the day and I got my are-you-coming-tonight call from Paula just as I drove past the front of the wine bar. Another ten minutes at least to figure out where I could park and to find a place to turn round and go back; kerbing the bloody wheel on the way. Kerbs are NOT supposed to be a foot high!
Three hours. THREE hours!!! sssssssssssssssssake!
Peace and good cheer ensued when I did finally arrive, turned down the wine since I don't seem to have any gap between getting and being drunk with wine, and treated myself to a double Balvenie and coke for measured solace. LLM was really good, lot of laughs including Nikki losing the plot and spluttering the ice back in her drink when someone airily mentioned sex. OK, so there was rather more to it than that but you had to have been there.
Anyone used to driving in London knows that crossing Waterloo Bridge is entirely unnecessary either to get to St Pauls from Southend, or to get back to Aylesbury from there, but I did. Four times in all. At least I finally found one of the few routes I do know but then got an itchy head about Mark and called him; it would have been rude to be within half a mile and not see if he was in. It's all *his* fault. The drink waiting for me on the coffee table was most welcome, hot, and non-alcoholic, as planned. Plans to go home went a bit awry and a fair amount of scotch and coke followed it, so I was bushbaby zinged till silly o'clock. Doubtless he blames *me*.
He made me cry! Well, watching "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" had me in tears, despite having been warned and seeing it coming.
Past tired now I'm home; forgot I set the first alarm for 7:30 and got up then instead of having the extra half hour before racing the traffic warden to my car; Boris Johnson is welcome to his £8, it was worth the extra 90 minutes even if it is entirely extortionate for a half mile escape from the congestion zone. But NOW I've discovered I have to go to Telford tomorrow - deep joy, not. I could go this afternoon but I'd probably fall asleep on the motorway.
"Love is" - sticking to your Valentine arrangements even when you find out Six Nations is on the box. Dinner will be en suite or very late.
ahhhhhhhhh, and Mark sent me these
1
2
*edited once I remembered how to do links properly
Tuesday 10 February 2009
happiness is ~
Finding out that the release mechanism for the bonnet on the red devil is not broken. Better than that, finding out it didn't need oil and being able to refill the screen washer.
No, I'm not usually that easily pleased.
No, I'm not usually that easily pleased.
humdrum
Something I forgot about the Sunday afternoon we all went to the park with Alex, there is a basketball ring there and I managed, for the first time since my teens I think, to net a ball first go. No-one was more amazed than I. Alex had a theory that, since it was very high, he should climb up the hill behind it so he was on the same level. We could see the logic, but it didn't work for him.
Not at all impressed with my boss who made me change a meeting in Southend from today to tomorrow so he could attend, messing up my personal plans to be in London for the LLM (he thinks driving into and parking in London is a trivial thing), then sending me an email at 5:30 last night saying he can't make it now. Still, I have the opportunity to spend the night with a very nice lady who has promised to cook me dinner so it can't be all bad.
Work is really truly boring right now, I've sorted out some training courses, updated various bits of internal admin stuff, and am looking forward to the next project, whatever it might be. Next month should spell freedom from this particular information-starved hamster cage.
Not at all impressed with my boss who made me change a meeting in Southend from today to tomorrow so he could attend, messing up my personal plans to be in London for the LLM (he thinks driving into and parking in London is a trivial thing), then sending me an email at 5:30 last night saying he can't make it now. Still, I have the opportunity to spend the night with a very nice lady who has promised to cook me dinner so it can't be all bad.
Work is really truly boring right now, I've sorted out some training courses, updated various bits of internal admin stuff, and am looking forward to the next project, whatever it might be. Next month should spell freedom from this particular information-starved hamster cage.
Friday 6 February 2009
s'no day for work
Raving insomnia meant I woke up at about 4 and I've been up since 5am. Various radio reports about blizzards and whiteouts in Devon caused me to check the Chiltern rail site to find a series of "This train has been cancelled due to poor weather conditions". Emailed my project manager to tell him 10am in London may be a bust.
It's snowing again, big soft flakes carpeting the path that was clear half an hour ago. Ho hum, trains seem to be running through Wycombe OK, guess it's the underground line connection that's shot again.
Should I talk about rabid responses to olive branches? Maybe not.
It's snowing again, big soft flakes carpeting the path that was clear half an hour ago. Ho hum, trains seem to be running through Wycombe OK, guess it's the underground line connection that's shot again.
Should I talk about rabid responses to olive branches? Maybe not.
Tuesday 3 February 2009
relaxed
Not having to get up at some silly hour this morning was wonderful, I still had to work, but from the dining table, not hunting a desk after a two hour trek to London.
Just spent an hour talking to my son, standing in the new kitchen, using the binkie as a focal point. Content. It soothed the strange bereft feeling I had from yesterday when G B & K all took off. I itch a bit when people are living with me (apart maybe from Paul) but I gain so much from it. Not much good at goodbye's, never was, and my sister crying nearly started me off, but all of them will be back, variously, in the next couple of months, so I have something else to look forward to.
He sends his apologies to the Rammy crew for not being there, but has too much going on right now to have been able to cope with major socialising. Next year. At least I now know he got a B&B and didn't sleep in the car as I thought he had.
Sid called last night to say he would be able to take Kath to the airport, most surprised to find there was no need but it was a lovely thought and much appreciated. They got home at 3am, 11 hours is pretty good for 500 miles, especially when my bro is a much more sensible driver than I am.
I feel more ~confident~ about this new project having found public domain information which covers everything I need to know for background and is a bit startling in respect of how much detail there is online about stuff that is usually hard to identify when you are a newbie inside an organisation. Shared the key link with my latest boss and know he will see it as I do; that we should have been given this info on day 1, not had to find it ourselves.
More good news on the cash front, the kitchen novation will be mostly replaced by the tax rebate I will get in April, having just calculated the extra tax I've been paying all year on a ground-level tax code hangover from incap benefit: 40% of 4 grand will be a noticeable boost. No worries on what I will spend it on, the options are horizon wide.
Mark told me last night that he'd kept the Fred Astaire outfit on when he went to the pub in the afternoon for the match, and for the poker in the evening, getting some seriously impressed looks and politely accepting a photo request from some tourists on his way home close to midnight. They probably think London is always full of chaps in white tie and top hats on a Sunday night *smothered laughter* He also said he was mostly glad no-one used the top hat for snowball practice.
So, that was today. Tomorrow is a phone-check that the person I need to see at Somerset house to do the endless security forms will actually BE there, and the weekend is already imminent. 'However the sky grows dark with invitation-cards", I promise I'll catch up with all of them if I can.
Just spent an hour talking to my son, standing in the new kitchen, using the binkie as a focal point. Content. It soothed the strange bereft feeling I had from yesterday when G B & K all took off. I itch a bit when people are living with me (apart maybe from Paul) but I gain so much from it. Not much good at goodbye's, never was, and my sister crying nearly started me off, but all of them will be back, variously, in the next couple of months, so I have something else to look forward to.
He sends his apologies to the Rammy crew for not being there, but has too much going on right now to have been able to cope with major socialising. Next year. At least I now know he got a B&B and didn't sleep in the car as I thought he had.
Sid called last night to say he would be able to take Kath to the airport, most surprised to find there was no need but it was a lovely thought and much appreciated. They got home at 3am, 11 hours is pretty good for 500 miles, especially when my bro is a much more sensible driver than I am.
I feel more ~confident~ about this new project having found public domain information which covers everything I need to know for background and is a bit startling in respect of how much detail there is online about stuff that is usually hard to identify when you are a newbie inside an organisation. Shared the key link with my latest boss and know he will see it as I do; that we should have been given this info on day 1, not had to find it ourselves.
More good news on the cash front, the kitchen novation will be mostly replaced by the tax rebate I will get in April, having just calculated the extra tax I've been paying all year on a ground-level tax code hangover from incap benefit: 40% of 4 grand will be a noticeable boost. No worries on what I will spend it on, the options are horizon wide.
Mark told me last night that he'd kept the Fred Astaire outfit on when he went to the pub in the afternoon for the match, and for the poker in the evening, getting some seriously impressed looks and politely accepting a photo request from some tourists on his way home close to midnight. They probably think London is always full of chaps in white tie and top hats on a Sunday night *smothered laughter* He also said he was mostly glad no-one used the top hat for snowball practice.
So, that was today. Tomorrow is a phone-check that the person I need to see at Somerset house to do the endless security forms will actually BE there, and the weekend is already imminent. 'However the sky grows dark with invitation-cards", I promise I'll catch up with all of them if I can.
Monday 2 February 2009
relief and worry
As the last echo of the working day's final bell fades to silence, they have cancelled the course so I don't need to get up at 6 tomorrow to check the net for the odds on being able to get to London for a 9am start.
Lets hope there is no lunacy about going to Telford or Worthing instead.
Worrying about Gordon, Barbara and Kathleen in a transit transiting by road to Aberdeen since mid-afternoon, and about Paul out there somewhere in the car, working, cos he's a newbie 'Business Development Manager' and has to show willing : if anything happens to him, I will hunt down his bosses and kill them very slowly.
Lets hope there is no lunacy about going to Telford or Worthing instead.
Worrying about Gordon, Barbara and Kathleen in a transit transiting by road to Aberdeen since mid-afternoon, and about Paul out there somewhere in the car, working, cos he's a newbie 'Business Development Manager' and has to show willing : if anything happens to him, I will hunt down his bosses and kill them very slowly.
should I go or should I stay?
Trying to get some sensible information from the net about how to get to Hatton Garden for the training course I'm booked on today till Wednesday: if the BBC has it right, there are no buses running and only the Victoria line is running properly.
I'd love to have an extra day with my sister, but if other people can get there so should I. BAH!
Rammy was great even if I did surpass myself on not being ready on time. Much champagne was drunk, and it took most of yesterday for my hangover to dissipate.
Should have stayed home! I spent three hours playing with the trains this morning, three escape attempts to London, three phone calls each to two of my colleagues who were meant to be on the same course as I was; one of whom is now stuck in London and can't get home, and they cancelled the course at 10am quoting 'low fill', despite the fact that they had given all of us the wrong address!!!!! So, I have managed to cancel my hotel for tonight, just before the expiry time at midday, and have to wait till tonight to find out if they are going to run a condensed course for the next two days or cancel it altogether.
AND; due to the vagaries of airports and the difficulties of getting my sister to Luton tomorrow night, she's going back to Aberdeen with my brother and his wife today so now we need to work out a weekend she can come back down on the sleazyjet cheap fares before July and change the date on her ticket for tomorrow. *glum*
The kitchen novation is continuing, I'll post more of the pics later, and my brother has promised to make sure the hob works before he leaves today. The cooking appliances are currently involved in a metal version of the hokey-cokey but I have faith they will settle down soon
I'd love to have an extra day with my sister, but if other people can get there so should I. BAH!
Rammy was great even if I did surpass myself on not being ready on time. Much champagne was drunk, and it took most of yesterday for my hangover to dissipate.
Should have stayed home! I spent three hours playing with the trains this morning, three escape attempts to London, three phone calls each to two of my colleagues who were meant to be on the same course as I was; one of whom is now stuck in London and can't get home, and they cancelled the course at 10am quoting 'low fill', despite the fact that they had given all of us the wrong address!!!!! So, I have managed to cancel my hotel for tonight, just before the expiry time at midday, and have to wait till tonight to find out if they are going to run a condensed course for the next two days or cancel it altogether.
AND; due to the vagaries of airports and the difficulties of getting my sister to Luton tomorrow night, she's going back to Aberdeen with my brother and his wife today so now we need to work out a weekend she can come back down on the sleazyjet cheap fares before July and change the date on her ticket for tomorrow. *glum*
The kitchen novation is continuing, I'll post more of the pics later, and my brother has promised to make sure the hob works before he leaves today. The cooking appliances are currently involved in a metal version of the hokey-cokey but I have faith they will settle down soon
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