Filling jugs, grafitti and skirting

Whilst watching a programme recently about hospitals, I was reminded of a medical test I had to carry out some years ago whilst living in my flat.  To cut a long story short, I was having tests for kidney function and one of the procedures was to carry out monitoring over a weekend of my fluid input and output.  Simple enough to do as I only drink bottled water so the input was easy to calculate, however the output was a little trickier.  Had I been a chap I could simply have re-used the water bottles, however being a girly I needed something, shall we say, a little larger to wee into.  I went out and bought a large Pyrex measuring jug and carried out the monitoring.  Job done, figures noted and given to the GP.  Despite scalding the jug several times after the final use, I could never quite bring myself to use it for foodstuffs.  I had no qualms though about leaving it for the tenants who subsequently rented the property from me when I moved out of the area.  Well the prospectus did say the flat was fully equipped.............

Last weekend I was back at Silverstone for the Classic Car racing event.  It was a great two days, the weather was hot and sunny (cue more sunburn) and the grandstands had plenty of covered space.  As usual, I witnessed many examples of blatant ignorance of basic health and safety sense on the circuit inner roads (being on private roads seems to make people take leave of rationality), some of the ‘best’ being..........three people on a moped (no helmets of course); more people sitting in small sports cars than there were seats for them; and four children stacked one behind the other in a single buggy.  In the evening we watched Adam Ant performing on stage at the event.......since his heyday he has had a range of psychological issues but even allowing for this, his appearance and act were far removed from how I remembered him – he even forgot the words to Prince Charming.  No longer the dandy highwayman we knew back then, such a shame really.

The school holidays have finally kicked in and with it has come a wave of antisocial behaviour from a group of young teens.  Many people one night this week were kept awake by shouting and high jinks well into the early hours, a local shop had an attempted break in and very drunken teens were vomiting, urinating and doing other unmentionables outside my friend’s house during the evening of the final day of term.  A group of teens spent the night sleeping outside the local leisure centre and as for the graffiti that has appeared on the walls of the same building plus on the front wall of an old folks residential flats, well all I can say is these kids should be in summer school to (a) learn how to spell and (b) be reminded that some words are simply unacceptable in society.  Where are the parents of all these children?  What do they think they are doing when out till late?  We were all teenagers once but certainly never got up to anything like we are seeing now.  Once again there is a demonstration that some people have no respect or sense of responsibility.  Fortunately I know many teens that are completely the opposite of these hoodlums and would never consider behaving in such a manner.

Breaking news.................the conservatory is due to be finished this week!!!  Yes, the skirting is being fitted (allegedly) tomorrow.  Bearing in mind this has gone on for four months now, I took on the task of chasing up the works.  I tried over the weekend to send a fax outlining our dissatisfaction but it wouldn’t go through.  On speaking to the company on Monday morning I was advised that they no longer accept incoming faxes.  Oh how helpful and why do they still have the number on business stationary?  It was like trying to raise the dead getting hold of the manager I needed and in fact I never did succeed, however he called my parents to confirm works will happen before the weekend.  It does actually remain to be seen whether this modern day miracle occurs but I have offered to erect bunting around the room in the event of a successful outcome.

As I have been typing, I have received an email from Eurostar advising me of the timetable for the ski train service!!!!! Hello, it is July, the sun is out, it is due to be 27 degrees by noon, what are you playing at??

Offers, Christmas and weeds

The Internet continues to bombard me with ‘unmissable’ offers on a daily basis.  The best so far this week include “Hot Dates In Your Area” (I don’t even like dates, they are always still sitting in the box in mid-January, complete waste of time buying them); “Jaw Dropping Jewellery” (sounds rather painful and unnecessary); “Free Solar Panels” (nothing in this life is free); “Your Free Slimming Plan from Special K” (thanks, but I will pass on that as it is actually a high sugar food) and more offers for credit cards than I could fit in my purse.  Still all these make a change from the usual offers for old age products and residences, although I daresay they will make a return shortly once the advertisers think I have forgotten them.

Tickets for the British Grand Prix next year have been ordered and this time we have gone even more upmarket for only a couple of pounds more than our pit lane grandstand.  I love early bird savings!  We have dedicated on-site parking behind the grandstand (very likely dedicated queuing too), a food marquee with chefs cooking all day and ‘other goodies’.  Now then this bit I am curious about........apparently it means we are given hats and other bits (hopefully better than a children’s party bag), however I am holding out for a meeting with one of two of the drivers, not fussed who, and a photo opportunity with them.  Our seats are in the front row so a good view of the proceedings and a car landing in the kitty litter is assured.

Now that we are in the second half of the year the Christmas adverts have started to appear.  This week I have heard one on the local radio offering bargain van deals with Jingle Bells playing in the background.  On the television the Christmas catalogues are mixed in with adverts for payday loans, bargain furniture offers and back to school uniform offers.  I was in a card shop this week and heard the assistant tell a customer that now they are in larger premises they can put the Christmas cards out this month instead of the end of August. For goodness sake...............the schools haven’t broken up yet for the summer holidays.

I read a posting on a social networking site’s local page this week where somebody was complaining about the weeds along the road outside his premises.  Granted the foliage was higher than the kerb, but in the time it took to take a photo of the offending plants and post it on the site with a comment, he could have pulled them out, job done.  With all the rain we have had over the past few weeks it is no wonder that the weeds are growing, but the local authority have more to do with our council tax than to pay people to pull them out.  Simple answer to this is if you don’t like them then bend your back and remove the green stuff.  In many other countries residents are expected to do just this, plus clear the pathways outside their property when the snow falls.  We are too fond in this country of passing the buck to someone else and failing to take responsibility for anything.  I will be armed with the weed puller once the rain stops for long enough to actually do some outside work.

The sorry saga of my parents’ conservatory rolls on.........bearing in mind the rebuild commenced in mid-March they are still awaiting the skirting to be fitted.  The chap arrived on the appointed day (an hour and a half late) but brought the wrong style of skirting.  He is due to return tomorrow and complete the job.  I am not holding my breath on this for fear of turning blue.  During the period since the work started my Mum has recovered from her hip replacement and was signed off by the surgeon four weeks into the works; I have had a week and a long weekend away; my parents have had two weeks away; the big bang theory has been proved; assorted decorating works have taken place at mine and my parents properties; we have had three family birthdays (April, May and July); and the trees opposite my house have leaves turning autumnal.  Another case of you couldn’t make it up.

Rain, Spain and pain

What a weekend............rain, a little more rain and even more rain.  Yes, this was the British Grand Prix weekend with wet weather, copious amounts of mud, some very wet looking campers and plenty of on-track slipping and sliding.  Two hours to get out of the parking field on day one, which wasn’t too bad considering we were only about five rows in.  Other people were not so fortunate and revved their engines so much they were soon embedded in the muddy ruts.  Thankfully we were able to park for the remainder of the weekend at a friend’s house in the village then take a short stroll to the circuit, making quicker time than the queue of cars and buses lining the service roads.

I stuck to the plan and did not spend any money on merchandise (a modern day miracle in the making).  One of the major teams had a waterproof jacket for sale – actually it was little more than a cagoule from the supermarket value range – at the bargain price of, wait for it, £149.  Thanks but no thanks. By race day the weather had amazingly turned the corner and the sun shone for the race.  This was in total contrast to qualifying day when the monsoon conditions caused the session to be delayed for well over an hour.  To pass the time, several rounds of the Mexican Wave moved along the grandstands and even the pit crews joined in opposite our stand.  This all made for an entertaining afternoon and the onsite presenters were so stuck for what to talk about that they kept referring to a mouse that had been trapped and killed in the Ferrari garage!  The track was so wet that Noah, a large wooden boat and a selection of paired animals floated past en route to some mountain or other.  Good result on the day though, with a clever move by Mark Webber to get past Fernando Alonso.  The crowd erupted into whooping and cheering..................all apart from the two Hispanic ladies next to me who took on very glum expressions.

Bizarrely my location was not all it seemed to be.  Now then, I know I was sitting in the International Pit Straight stand at Silverstone in Northamptonshire.  However, my iPhone has a fancy feature whereby I can log into Facebook and ‘check in’ to where I am and this is posted on my Facebook page.  I thought I might as well give this a go however all the options on the first day were for Valencia in Spain (spookily the previous race was held there).  This theme carried on all weekend, even when Silverstone was given as an option and I used it, the accompanying map showed Silverstone as being in Valencia!  The weather updates on my iPhone were for Valencia (oh if only it was 29 degrees and no rain here) and the time setting reset itself to Spanish time!  All changed each time I left the circuit but the following day reverted back to Spain.  I am presuming that the Spanish HRT Formula 1 team (whose garage was near to our grandstand) had not changed their data from the previous fortnight and it was morphing into the iPhone workings.  This is taking “Mañana, mañana” to a new level.

With all the rain my garden is starting to resemble a jungle and there is much in the way of pruning to be carried out.  Trying to find a dry hour or two is proving to be something of a problem so it looks like it will be autumn before any proper chopping can be carried out.  This of course coincides with my annual fortnight away when the garden is at the mercy of my Dad so I daresay the whole place will look like a starter garden once he has finished clipping a bit here and a bit more here “to even it up”.  I managed to remove a few straggly weeds today to justify putting the garden waste wheelie bin out for collection.  Note to self..............when gardening do not, I repeat not, pull out weeds with bare hands before looking to see what they really are.  Stinging nettles hurt for hours and hours afterwards.

A large fox trotted across my driveway earlier on.  Looks like Noah needs a stronger lock on the loading bay door.

Strange food, wet weather and decorating

During the recent excursion to Belgium, we ate in the hotel restaurant one evening.  On scanning the menu I came across hamburgers, fish and meat dishes then two choices that caught my eye...........”Fillet of Fawn” and “Kangaroo Steak” served with fries and salad. No, no, no, no, no, it is simply not right to snack on Bambi or Skippy.  This reminded me of an eatery we used in Iceland, great buffet choice (even for my selective (i.e. fussy) tastes), plenty of vegetables and hot food choices.  One item was on offer every evening.........Pony.  Yes, real Black Beauty.  Now then, I have no real affection for horses but eating them seems a little unfair.  The owner of the establishment was more philosophical about the situation, commenting “We play with them, then we eat them....”.  I didn’t sample Dobbin and the additional choice of Sheep’s Head Flan on the final evening was left under the heat lamps.

I discovered this week that the local secondary school has a vacancy for a Learning Support Assistant so checked it out online (never hurts to keep an eye on what is around).........the advert described the position in brief detail and unbelievably contained TWO spelling mistakes.  Excellent attention to detail (not) and sufficiently poor to discourage me from looking further at the job specification.

July has landed with another spell of wet weather (oh great) which doesn’t bode well for the British Grand Prix weekend.  Having been caught out many times at Silverstone with extremes of weather, we are prepared this time and have thick plastic sheeting and industrial clips to protect us from the elements as our seats are on the open side of the grandstand.  I need to dig out plenty of warm and waterproof clothing this week and keep repeating this mantra to myself..........I will not buy any merchandise this year, I will not buy any merchandise this year, I will not buy any merchandise this year....... The wet conditions should make qualifying and race day interesting and I daresay there will be a few major spins off the track.  Bring it on!

Well then, the homecoming of the holidaymakers arrived at the weekend and I made sure I was at the house ready to welcome them back via their shiny hallway.  In they came, we went back and forth unpacking the car, had a natter in the hallway, but neither of them noticed the glare which was so strong that sunglasses should really have been called for.  After an hour or so I pointed out my handiwork with the paintbrush and.................no telling off.  How bizarre and totally unexpected!  The decoration went down well and I have painted the newly plastered walls of the rebuilt conservatory this week.  In between all this I have repainted my dining room, walls, woodwork, doors and radiator over the course of about ten hours in total.  See Dad, it doesn’t have to be a major operation to get the brushes and paint pots out...............!!

On my parents return they produced a copy of the local paper from Northumberland which did indeed feature the photograph taken by the local reporter lady as we waited for the Olympic Torch to arrive.  Fame at last and it is a pretty good picture too.  I am in process of obtaining a copy of the original.................signed copy anyone?

This week whilst on the morning school run I passed a ‘private ambulance’ (otherwise known as an undertakers van) parked outside a local house, obviously waiting to remove a newly deceased person from the premises.  A sad sight to see, but I was astonished to see the two waiting undertakers laughing and joking whilst awaiting the go ahead to carry out their work.  Now then, I do realise that in every situation some degree of frivolity can ease the moment, but to be displaying this in full view of the household concerned (to say nothing of passing parents and children) seemed to be a little tactless.  I cannot imagine my late Grandpa behaving in this fashion when he was waiting to start the process of caring for somebody’s deceased loved one.  Perhaps this is just the modern way of doing things?