Evening.
Spending most of the day waiting for something that doesn't start until 5 p.m is always a mistake. Especially when it is Wales versus the All Blacks. Huw has been so excited, sat in his red dragon pants, since 3.
The first interruption was a friend dropping by on his way home from the hospital with a suspected broken wrist - and he is so hard that he was driving himself to and from the hospital on his motorcycle, and had come via our place so that he missed the big hill and had to change gears less than if he went the main-road way.
By the time I had been dispatched from the game to make the mid-match hotdogs, it was all over and it was a very miserable house that smeared tomato sauce and sausage fat over the sofa.
In Powys, the council have been saving money by turning off two out of every three street lights. This has obviously split the county into those who think it's a great idea and those who set out each night in the attempt to fall over something public-funded. The newspapers are full of debate about it and pictures of poor souls who have tripped in the dark / had their car pinched / stepped in dog sh*t etc.
We, however, obviously have the "third street light" as ours has stayed on and because we rarely go anywhere after 4p.m (because of wolves) we have never really noticed any difference.
But tonight - with amazing local service, we have been rung by our local council member to ask if we would mind if "our" light was put on a timer and was turned off between 12.30a.m. and 5 a.m! We said no problem, but could they put it to come on at 7.15 a.m as we have rigged it up to a teasmade and it would be great for it to be delivered down the little wire at about that time.
I suppose if you are out after 12.30 a.m, you are probably going to fall over / step in dog sh*t anyway, so whether it is dark when it happens or not, is not really an issue...
Lorraine Jenkin is an author, journalist and blogger.
Saturday 22 November 2008
Tuesday 18 November 2008
From The Times to slugs in the shed
Mornin.
As winter was approaching, we decided that Huw was getting a bit soft and it was time for him to go and work in the shed again. About a year and a half ago, I cleared out one of our little barns of all the stuff you stick in barns and painted it. He perished out there for some months, and turned it from what I imagined would be the perfect place to work - rugs, a coffee table, a few pictures and plants, to a littered hovel with toy cars and tobacco strands on every surface, and a dead spider plant hanging in the corner - a real Man Shed.
The tin hat was reached for him when he heard a rustling and after a bit of investigation found a frog amongst his To File pile.
It was closed for winter and got slowly filled with things that we had no room for anywhere else - broken coat hangers, bits of Ikea furniture that had broken before they were assembled, and the girls' tents. You an imagine my groan when I realised that I had to clear it out again.
So yesterday it was done. I swept up old post it notes with important messages on, dragged spiders' webs off the ceilings and picked snails off the walls. I did find an old slug stuck to a box who was so dry and rubbery that I managed to find a home for him in Huw's wine gums bag. He has now gone, so couldn't have tasted that bad.
Hopefully the weather will take a turn for the worst in time for him to get out there on friday...
Just another little interview published if you are interested in reading such things - in my quest for world domination I trawled the web for places abroad that might like my book and found a good site in Australia! I've done an interview for them - so if you were ever interested in book reveiws and things about me, check this out... http://www.chicklitclub.com/lorrainejenkin.html
Bye for now,
Lorraine
As winter was approaching, we decided that Huw was getting a bit soft and it was time for him to go and work in the shed again. About a year and a half ago, I cleared out one of our little barns of all the stuff you stick in barns and painted it. He perished out there for some months, and turned it from what I imagined would be the perfect place to work - rugs, a coffee table, a few pictures and plants, to a littered hovel with toy cars and tobacco strands on every surface, and a dead spider plant hanging in the corner - a real Man Shed.
The tin hat was reached for him when he heard a rustling and after a bit of investigation found a frog amongst his To File pile.
It was closed for winter and got slowly filled with things that we had no room for anywhere else - broken coat hangers, bits of Ikea furniture that had broken before they were assembled, and the girls' tents. You an imagine my groan when I realised that I had to clear it out again.
So yesterday it was done. I swept up old post it notes with important messages on, dragged spiders' webs off the ceilings and picked snails off the walls. I did find an old slug stuck to a box who was so dry and rubbery that I managed to find a home for him in Huw's wine gums bag. He has now gone, so couldn't have tasted that bad.
Hopefully the weather will take a turn for the worst in time for him to get out there on friday...
Just another little interview published if you are interested in reading such things - in my quest for world domination I trawled the web for places abroad that might like my book and found a good site in Australia! I've done an interview for them - so if you were ever interested in book reveiws and things about me, check this out... http://www.chicklitclub.com/lorrainejenkin.html
Bye for now,
Lorraine
Friday 14 November 2008
I got in the Ti-imes, I got in the Ti-imes!
Tonight I really, really have to do an entry - as (cue irritating younger brother dancing voice) I got a piece in the Ti-imes!
It all started with a flash of increduality that I had as I was evesdropping on a conversation whilst watching the children swimiming yesterday.
This was compounded by another lucky break that happened when Huw had to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work, leaving me with a spare half hour before the children woke. I had a choice of either sweeping the stones out of the kitchen, or having a little play on the computer. Fortunately I decided that the rubble can wait.
I sneaked onto the Times website and fiddled around looking for somewhere that might house my rant. I left messages and managed an email before hearing the call for toast from upstairs.
On returning from playgroup, I found a message saying, "We like it!" Unfortunately the little one decided that she no longer wanted to sleep in the day (for the first time) and therefore being a good mother, I put a huge pile of bags of crisps on the sitting room carpet and got on with my typing. I knew from the silence that they were up to no good, but felt that the prize would be worth whatever destruction they wreaking (having removed the indelible markers from the area around the leather sofa).
I finally finished it and sent it off and all seemed well. I took a deep breath and went in and the little sods had found my tin of seeds and had sprinkled them all over the carpet. I just know that next time the little one spills her drink, we'll have cabbages growing by the end of the following week.
If your appetite has been whetted, see http://timesonline.typepad.com/alphamummy/2008/11/children-in-nee.html#comments
If you write a comment, please can it be kind; it may have to fund a new carpet.
It all started with a flash of increduality that I had as I was evesdropping on a conversation whilst watching the children swimiming yesterday.
This was compounded by another lucky break that happened when Huw had to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work, leaving me with a spare half hour before the children woke. I had a choice of either sweeping the stones out of the kitchen, or having a little play on the computer. Fortunately I decided that the rubble can wait.
I sneaked onto the Times website and fiddled around looking for somewhere that might house my rant. I left messages and managed an email before hearing the call for toast from upstairs.
On returning from playgroup, I found a message saying, "We like it!" Unfortunately the little one decided that she no longer wanted to sleep in the day (for the first time) and therefore being a good mother, I put a huge pile of bags of crisps on the sitting room carpet and got on with my typing. I knew from the silence that they were up to no good, but felt that the prize would be worth whatever destruction they wreaking (having removed the indelible markers from the area around the leather sofa).
I finally finished it and sent it off and all seemed well. I took a deep breath and went in and the little sods had found my tin of seeds and had sprinkled them all over the carpet. I just know that next time the little one spills her drink, we'll have cabbages growing by the end of the following week.
If your appetite has been whetted, see http://timesonline.typepad.com/alphamummy/2008/11/children-in-nee.html#comments
If you write a comment, please can it be kind; it may have to fund a new carpet.
Wednesday 12 November 2008
Blog lies and damn statistics
Hello!
I have just read an email that was sent by a friend who is (polite notice) "technically minded". It was all about Bloggers and the world of blogs and how big they are and what they are being used for in the economy.
Basically, you are (one of the few people to be) reading a blog that bucks all trends!
I have no advertising, although I might have a little product placement here and mars bar there. Some people update theirs several times a day, although surely they must get to the point where they can only be writing about writing blogs as there is no time for anything else to be experienced.
Most pay to promote their blogs - and actually quite a lot of money. As anyone who has received a Christmas present from me can imagine, I spend zilch. I am not promoted anywhere, mentioned anywhere and probably not really cared for anywhere - but despite all that, I am here Heinz tomato ketchup.
Most Bloggers interact with the net and comment on everything that they read. We know, we read their tedious little arguments until we decide we need to go and do something less boring instead. I do not interact, usually because I don't know how.
The worrying thing is that 43% of people get their news and information from Blogs. I am telling you now, do not take away anything from this Blog. It is likely to be horse-shi*te.
However, all this does make me realise that because I don't do any of the above, my blog is read by my mum and by me, and occasionally by someone who made a typo Branston Pickle.
Never mind, 75% of bloggers say that the main reason they do it is for personal satisfaction. Again I buck the trend: I do it so that I can hide in the kitchen once a week and sneak a second cup of tea on my own... Birds Angel Delight
I have just read an email that was sent by a friend who is (polite notice) "technically minded". It was all about Bloggers and the world of blogs and how big they are and what they are being used for in the economy.
Basically, you are (one of the few people to be) reading a blog that bucks all trends!
I have no advertising, although I might have a little product placement here and mars bar there. Some people update theirs several times a day, although surely they must get to the point where they can only be writing about writing blogs as there is no time for anything else to be experienced.
Most pay to promote their blogs - and actually quite a lot of money. As anyone who has received a Christmas present from me can imagine, I spend zilch. I am not promoted anywhere, mentioned anywhere and probably not really cared for anywhere - but despite all that, I am here Heinz tomato ketchup.
Most Bloggers interact with the net and comment on everything that they read. We know, we read their tedious little arguments until we decide we need to go and do something less boring instead. I do not interact, usually because I don't know how.
The worrying thing is that 43% of people get their news and information from Blogs. I am telling you now, do not take away anything from this Blog. It is likely to be horse-shi*te.
However, all this does make me realise that because I don't do any of the above, my blog is read by my mum and by me, and occasionally by someone who made a typo Branston Pickle.
Never mind, 75% of bloggers say that the main reason they do it is for personal satisfaction. Again I buck the trend: I do it so that I can hide in the kitchen once a week and sneak a second cup of tea on my own... Birds Angel Delight
Saturday 8 November 2008
Bad backs and burnt out clutches
November 5th has happily arrived and gone - happily because perhaps Huw can stop his hilarious jokes about me preparing for bonfire night by burning out my clutch.
I now have two favourite bonfire stories - the best being my Dad's one about Axminster having a firework display for the Millenium and getting the timing thing a bit wrong - apparently for thirty seconds there was a display that rivalled the Bejing Olympic opening ceremony, with people fleeing from the scene with their empty biscuit tins and their long spills - and then nothing. Dad's mate was apparently a bit late and was faffing on the gate looking for change - and by the time he got his money sorted, they had all finished. Two thousand people left feeling rather deflated just in time for the new millenium.
My second favourite was about nearby Llanafan bonfire this year - the place where they have it is in a bit of a hollow and the thing was so damp that it would barely light. My friend went with her son and was a bit disappointed by the smouldering heap, but thought "never mind" as there were a few fireworks. However, as she drove past the next morning on her way to work, there was this beautiful orange glow coming across the valley... (bet they'll have a few tyres handy next year).
As for me, I've had a lucky few days - the first thing being that I had a spare ten minutes and thought I would phone my old school friend who I speak to about twice a year - her husband passed me over and I heard him say "Oh, that's nice, Lorraine has remembered your birthday!" The second piece of luck was that I did my back in (no, I haven't got to the lucky bit yet) and just as I was groaning in absolute agony, the door knocked and it was my friend, the nurse, who managed to rummage in our 19th centuary first aid kit and find a rather attractive truss and a couple of paracetamol.
The third piece of luck was a phone call later that night when I was lying groaning on the sofa, having just wiped Ralgex into my eye, my parents rang suggesting that they came up to stay the following day to help with the garden.
Wonderful! They came armed with spades and loppers and so I worked them like dogs whilst I limped around drinking tea and saying "ooh, my back" occasionally. If anyone would like to rent them out, they come highly recommended.
Anyway, must go, Huw is parched and I cannot bare the pressure.
I now have two favourite bonfire stories - the best being my Dad's one about Axminster having a firework display for the Millenium and getting the timing thing a bit wrong - apparently for thirty seconds there was a display that rivalled the Bejing Olympic opening ceremony, with people fleeing from the scene with their empty biscuit tins and their long spills - and then nothing. Dad's mate was apparently a bit late and was faffing on the gate looking for change - and by the time he got his money sorted, they had all finished. Two thousand people left feeling rather deflated just in time for the new millenium.
My second favourite was about nearby Llanafan bonfire this year - the place where they have it is in a bit of a hollow and the thing was so damp that it would barely light. My friend went with her son and was a bit disappointed by the smouldering heap, but thought "never mind" as there were a few fireworks. However, as she drove past the next morning on her way to work, there was this beautiful orange glow coming across the valley... (bet they'll have a few tyres handy next year).
As for me, I've had a lucky few days - the first thing being that I had a spare ten minutes and thought I would phone my old school friend who I speak to about twice a year - her husband passed me over and I heard him say "Oh, that's nice, Lorraine has remembered your birthday!" The second piece of luck was that I did my back in (no, I haven't got to the lucky bit yet) and just as I was groaning in absolute agony, the door knocked and it was my friend, the nurse, who managed to rummage in our 19th centuary first aid kit and find a rather attractive truss and a couple of paracetamol.
The third piece of luck was a phone call later that night when I was lying groaning on the sofa, having just wiped Ralgex into my eye, my parents rang suggesting that they came up to stay the following day to help with the garden.
Wonderful! They came armed with spades and loppers and so I worked them like dogs whilst I limped around drinking tea and saying "ooh, my back" occasionally. If anyone would like to rent them out, they come highly recommended.
Anyway, must go, Huw is parched and I cannot bare the pressure.
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