The Question This Week

Right People, question time.

It’s hot.  So hot it’s difficult to turn the TV over.  The rest of the family have gone out for the day.  An empty house is yours to enjoy.  BUT it’s an absolute tip.  Do you:
a.  Tidy the house in one full blitz, enjoy the fan in the afternoon.
b.  Tidy in small doses, ensuring to hydrate properly.
c.  Say ‘F*** It, it’s too hot.  There’s nothing decomposing, it’s fine’

How did you answer?  I bet most of you would go with C…..

Well, this is the quandry I find myself in for tomorrow’s activities of the day.  I know that there isn’t much on the TV to watch, and whilst I’ve got work to do I’ve had enough of it for one week.  So, makes sense to tidy and clean.

*shrugs shoulders*   Can’t be bothered.

Why is it that they make the most mess just before they leave daddy at home alone?  Knowing full well that he will clear it up ready for them to come home and trash it again.

When did I become so domesticated……

Anyway, I suppose I already know the answer to the question posed.  Muggins here will be sweating profusely as he attempts to hoover with Henry and not tread on anymore of those bloody toys.

Well, to all those daddy’s out there who never get invited out and stay at home.  I hope for your sake that the weather doesn’t get too hot.  You MUST hydrate adequately.  Keep the lager in the fridge, it makes it more watery or something……..

That was the weekend that was:

Dismal.  Productive.  Short.

The weather in this country over the weekend was shocking.  Managed to get a good walk in but that was it. 

We were confined to the house.  But with nothing on the telly, what do you do?  I reliquished my Sky Sports package two weeks before the end of the season so couldn’t even watch the football.

However, I did the productive bit on Saturday morning.

After seven years or so, I finally managed to put all of my boxes up into the loft.  Until now, it had all been stored under the stairs, the one cupboard for storage in the house.  All the stuff from the past moves, all my school books and stuff, and also old toys from my childhood. 

Well it’s all gone.  The cupboard is empty.  A whole box of shredding dealt with (mainly school books and stuff) and a few boxes emptied.  The rest has been safely stored above.

Before you judge me, I can explain.  Seven years is a long time, I agree, but four of those can be accounted for with the reasoning that I didn’t have a big enough ladder.  This past weekend I had to borrow a ladder so that I can get the job done.  The other years I have no excuse (except laziness).

Now, my recent behaviour does beg a question; what is going on?!

In the past couple of weeks, I have tidied the garden, sorted the shed and now sorted the boxes.  I am becoming super domesticated.  Why have I started to become house proud?

Maybe I am doing my stint before I pass on the baton…

Picture courtesy of LaughingSquid.com

England in Sunny Weather: A Disgusting Sight.

Well, it would appear that the British Spring has arrived.  No more ice and snow.

Until next week that is, but obviously there are only a few actions you must follow when the sun comes out. 

If you’re female you must dust off the most revealing and uninspiring wardrobe collection,  find the most intrusive of these garments and parade around town in them.

You think you look like Kate Moss or Cheryl Cole.  We think you look like a deformed pastry product or Miss Piggy.

But that’s ok, its your choice.

Men, yes I haven’t forgotten you.  You must wear the same clothes as you normally would, maybe change the jeans for the 3/4 length combats and add a nice shirt or t-shirt.  Hang on, no this is nice weather so change the t-shirt for a really old, beer stained England Football shirt or if you fancy wearing a proper shirt, don’t do it up.  Hang loose.

Oh, and a must for the older gent, remember to leave your socks on with those sandals.  Looking good.

There you go England, you are ready for the sunny weather.  Don’t worry about sun cream or anything, just keep drinking the chilled beer, does the same job.

One word of caution though, for the mums-to-be out there.  You MUST make sure that when out and about cover up none of your bump.  Yeah, that’s right, wear your mini skirt and boob tube, but just let your belly hang out for all to see.  We all love the sight of new life being harvested before the wonders of childbirth.  There are those that may be offended by the sight of your stretch marks and they may wish you a hideously, painful labour, but they are in the minority.  Maybe.

I think that’s everybody covered.  Nope, I forgot the old dears among you; just keep your coats on loves.  Never had sun during the war did you?  Bless.

And I’ll finish with a tip for the larger man; wear light coloured or well ventilated tops.  Nothing is more unsightly than sweat patches.  Same goes for your trousers too.

I hope you enjoy these pleasant days before England changes its mind and decides to let the snow run the show once more.

Dear Diary: What a week it has been…

The past week has been a write off.  Are you ready for a sob story?

It all started last Thursday evening.  A cold night with the threat of severe snow showers and freezing temperatures.  Of course this would be the perfect night for the heating to stop working!

I live in the sticks and use oil for my heating system.  It’s also rented accommodation so the whole thing is outdated anyway.  This means that if anything goes wrong or needs repairing I can’t just fix it myself (to a certain degree) or phone up someone to come and fix it.  No, I have to phone up the authorities who then send out their approved contractors.  Great.

First off I checked my tank gauge, half full.  Checked that the bloody thing was actually turned on, yes it is.  What the hell is then?  Phoned my boss who lives round the corner for some advice.  He suggests that the pilot could of gone out.

‘That’s nice, I wonder if it’s gone anywhere nice’ I replied.

A moments pause.  Press the big red button on the side of the tank.  Done.  Fires up, happy days.

Two minutes later, I’m still cold.  Go out to the boiler.  It’s not on.  Press the button again, fires up.  Stops. Bollocks.

Phones the authorities, luckily there’s a chap around and he’ll be sent.  Bloody good job, I say.  He has a quick look around, walks up to the tank and knocks on it.

‘It’s empty’ he says.

‘Fuck off is it’ I reply.

I have a look.  By fuck, it is.  No oil, yet the gauge says it’s half full.  I spy a problem.  Is it getting warmer in here, no, that was my blood boiling.  It was him and his mates that had been round and ‘fixed’ the gauge on two separate occasions.  Methinks he didn’t do it properly.

…

After about ten minutes of my shouting, he was allowed to leave.  Now what?  I have a two year old, a six week old and a wife that is moaning (normal) because she’s cold.  I have to make a drastic decision.

A few phone calls later and the path is clear.  Work will have to make do without me for a few days, I’m going to house where it’s warm.  Luckily my mother was willing to put us up, probably reluctantly going on past experiences, and just wait for oil to be delivered.

But wait, didn’t you say that snow was on the way and it was really cold?!

Yes I did.  It would appear that quite a few other people needed oil and the subsequent problems the snow caused on the roads meant that it was Tuesday before we got any delivered.  Great, now we could go home and I could go back to work.  Hurray!

You may not have any interest in my tale of woe and frustration, but if I hadn’t told anybody I would’ve just let this bug me for weeks.  People, if you are in a position, buy a house and don’t rent.  I hate having to rely on other people to get stuff done.  We were lucky this time that it wasn’t drawn out for hours as it has done before.

Oh well, it’s done.  It’s the weekend time to relax.

What did you say?  There’s more snow coming?

Fuck.  Check the tank…

A View.

Winding down…

Work.

One of those places where everybody has to go, but nobody wants to be.

Unless you are one of those rare individuals who enjoys their work, but come on, seriously, do these people exist?  Really??

Anyway, I’m at work.  At my desk and at my computer.  Technically at my phone since I’m writing this on there, but you get my drift.

For the most part, I have pretending to do stuff today.  I have done the same task all day, when usually it would’ve taken me an hour.  And the reason?

Freedom.

No, not in a Braveheart ‘Freeeeeeeeedddoooooooooommmmmm!’ kind of way.  Silly.  More in the fact that next week I’m off on holiday, away from this office.

Hooray!!

It’s only for a week and it’s not out of the country, it’s one of these ‘stay-cations’.  I love that word.

It’s going to be on the seafront.  I’m going with the family.  And so far, the weather forecast looks good.  I’m actually quite excited and looking forward to it.  First holiday for two years.  I might even have a drink.  Whoa, steady there.

Anyway, it’s away from this office.  This group of people I spend all year with.  Some are tolerable.  Some are down right annoying.  But most of all, I won’t be thinking about them or the office at all.  I can guarantee that.

It may be weird to you that we are deciding to go to the seafront in the UK in September, but think about it.  It’s the end of season, the weather could still spring a surprise and the kids are back at school.

Nice.

An alright day.

Today has been hot. Well, it certainly has been for me.

I have spent the day in the local town with the wife and daughter, just looking about and having a mooch.

We had an antenatal appointment this morning, routine check up y’know, but that was done by lunchtime. Leaving the afternoon free.

We decided to grab a sandwich and take a little picnic into the local public gardens.

Now, I’m not usually the one that sits on the grass, it usually takes me a while to get back up, but when your basically dragged to the floor, you don’t have much choice.

It was all very pleasant and it was a good twenty minutes before Sophie asked to play. We give in.

Then a few shops to look around before we give in to the sun’s power.

We head to the I’ve cream van and start to make our way home.

Nothing groundbreaking, or particularly exciting, it was just a nice pleasant day spent with the family.

And that’s what makes nice weather all the better.

Man, I need a holiday….

In the time that I have been away (I haven’t actually been anywhere, I’m just very unorganised) and have not been updating much, I have achieved many things.

I still have not done any decorating however, but that’s not what’s on trial here, but I have done something that is just as important….  I’ve booked a holiday.

“We’re all going on a summer holiday!” (Sung in the best Cliff Richard voice).

Well, let’s not get carried away.  It’s not during the summer months so does not guarantee good weather, nor does it make it a summer holiday.  You may ask, ‘well if you’re going on holiday, go to a sunnier country?!’.

Well yes, you’re quite right, if it weren’t for the fact that it is in fact a ‘staycation’.  I have no idea where that term came from, but now it won’t leave my head, but it means that I will be holidaying in this country.  The United Kingdom. 

No, I’m not mad.

There are many factors as to why we holiday at home.  I have a young daughter, aged 2, who I have yet to get a passport for.  Can’t leave the country.  I don’t much like the hot sun, not a real concern in England.  I’m skint, always a good reason.

We are set to spend a week, in a caravan, on the east coast of Norfolk, in Great Yarmouth.  A place, I’ve been told, that I’ve been to several times.  I don’t remember any of them.

I’ve only stayed in a caravan once before and that was two years ago, another week in Clacton.  Being a caravan virgin, I’ll admit I was unsure, but I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that they are remarkably comfortable.  However, as neither I nor my wife drive we were kind of marooned and destined to enjoy the entertainment that was immediately around us.  Still, it was good week.

Now, over the years I have been told and learnt that you should never actually opt to go on holiday with family members.  I do not listen to people.  We are going this time with my brother-in-law and his family, which I must admit; I’m actually looking forward to.  No, really.  I think it’s going to be a load of fun.  Being the oldest however, I hope I’m not going to be appointed the responsible individual who makes the decisions, etc.  It puts you right off your pint if you have to be responsible….

Anyway, it’s not until September, so everybody please; join me in wishing positive mental thoughts for some nice weather in that week.  Pretty please?

Another excuse…

Dear readers, I apologise once again for the lack of activity on this blog over the last couple of days.  This is mainly because:

1.  I get distracted by a hyperactive child wanting to play all the time; and
2.  I have had intermittent internet connectivity.

Not exactly groundbreaking, but relevant, I feel.  Every time I went to write something I either got within 2 foot of the computer and was dragged away into the garden, or I sat there and it didn’t work.  Not my fault, ‘onest guv’!

Anyway, what a lovely weekend we have had.  If you’re not in the UK then I’m afraid I couldn’t comment on your weather, but over here we have experienced some unseasonal high temperatures.  This has led to every man, woman and dog being dragged outside into the blazing hot sun, just so that they can ressemble a cooked lobster, generally with millions of other people on one strip of beach.

(You may gather here that I am not a sun worshipper.  Being in the position where I no longer require shampoo, I have to take extra precautions leading to me staying indoors)

Nevertheless, Sophie loved being outside and interacted with pretty much the only thing I can do, and that is kick a ball.  I don’t really get into the spirit of ‘tea parties on the lawn’ but I had an excuse that there was sport on the TV.  Dad excuse No 2.

Wherever you were or are, I hope that the weather is good and that you have all had a peaceful weekend.  And if you piled to the seaside in all the traffic, all I can say is;

Baa.

The View

A back garden, somewhere in Essex.