Early Morning Worrying

When a young dog needs to pee it's best not to ignore the warnings, so when Murphy started 'telling' me at 6.30am that he wanted to go in the garden I gave up all hope of a lie in and went down to the kitchen to let him out.  

Now if this was winter time, I would have stumbled down the stairs, let the dogs out, called them back in, suggested that they might like to go back to sleep for a while before dragging my weary bones back up stairs to my warm bed. But this is Spring time and the sun is shining and the birds and singing and we still have lots to do before the Estate Agent comes on Monday to take his pictures, so I decided to torment myself with BBC Breakfast News (you know how much I love a good rant in the morning) and then  make myself a cup of tea before starting another day of packing away some of the 'stuff' that apparently potential house buyers don't want to see when they are looking around your home (damn those pesky property shows)

But what do I pack away, that is the question?  should I cull some of my pretty collection of jugs that line the shelves of the conservatory - probably; and will I need to pack away the embarrassing pictures I had taken of the kids when they were little, the ones where they had to dress up in Victorian ragamuffin costumes - I love them , they hate them but what would a potential buyer make of them - probably report me to Social Services for child abuse. 

So you see my dilemma, there I am standing in my kitchen with Murphy tugging at my dressing gown while Bella is running around with a blanket in her mouth singing good morning to me (long story but suffice it to say, she's a retriever who thinks that it's her life's mission to bring you a present every time you walk in the room) all the time worrying about what I've got to do today.  

What's a girl to do other than make a cup of coffee, ignore the growing list of jobs and log on for a quiet 10 minutes while the dogs are happily chasing squirrels and drinking their own body weight in pond water. After quick moan on Twitter that I have a busy day ahead, I spot that one of my favourite bloggers has a new post and this is where the power of this interwebby thing really comes into it's own.

http://anexplorers.blogspot.com/2009/04/exhausted-and-befuddled-but-with-plan.html is the blog of a gentleman I have mentioned before.  He tells stories of his life in Canada, walks with his dog, pictures around his town and occasionally short stories that he's written.  He is erudite, charming and in a strange way, that is only possible because of the Internet, I consider him a 'virtual' friend.  But this morning I read that my friend has just been advised of his treatment plan of the chemo and radiotherapy for the cancerous growth in his esophagus's - sure puts my worrying about a silly jug collection into perspective.

Good luck with the treatment Barry, there are people all over the world rooting for you, people who because of a blog consider you a friend - as I've said before, this interwebby can be a powerful thing.

Sorry....

I'm sorry that it's been so long since I last blogged but we have been very busy bees since Dave finished his last contract.

Earlier this month while we were down in Kent on a 'fact finding mission' we put in an offer on a house down there.  Why Kent. I hear you ask, when our old plans had involved either Cornwall or Anglesea, well the truth of it is that Dave and I feel that we are both far too young to retire and live the quite life.  We still fancy living by the coast but had decided that we should be within striking distance a potential source of contract work for Dave (I'm lucky I can write anywhere) So out came the map and Kent seemed the ideal county, it has lots of coast line and with the promised introduction of a high speed rail link from Ashford, an easy trip to Central London.

So fingers crossed that the solicitors get their fingers out and the Land Searches don't throw up some awful history of unstoppable coastal erosion and that we can be down there to enjoy some, if not all, of the summer on the south coast.

The past few weeks have been manic with trying to arrange a HIP on this house and get things started on the purchase but (without wishing to tempt fate) things seem to be moving along.  We haven't decided yet whether we want to sell our house yet or if we should wait for the inevitable rise in the housing market and just rent it out for a few years.  Either way we have been clearing out some of the stuff that we've accumulated over the past 18 years, so it's been trips to the charity shop and even more trips to the tip.  Where does all the stuff come from, I could have sworn that I did all this two years ago, the only explanation I can think of is that it breeds, if you leave two old towels in the garage to wipe down wet dogs with and go back to them 3 weeks later there will be 4 of the buggers sitting there laughing at you!(and yes G, we do still have the hang glider suspended from the rafters)

So that's it, the Big Move is back on, so if you fancy a fab house with fab neighbours in a quiet cul de sac close to the station and an excellent primary school - watch this space.  As the government in it's wisdom has decided that the housing market isn't fucked enough at the moment that it should insist that all houses need to have a full HIP in place BEFORE they can go on the market, it be a few weeks before you see a board outside the house, but when it's up I'll let you know.

I thought you might to see some photos of our trip

Last Monday we set off bright and early, first stop the kennels so that Murphy and Bella could enjoy a few days of pampering and then off down the M6 heading south.  It was such a lovely day that we had a long lunch stop in Somerset along the way and it was at that point that we discovered a) Murphy's pain killers had fallen out of his bag and were sitting accusingly in the boot of the car and b) my camera was sitting on the kitchen table at home! A frantic call from the kennels sorted the medicine issue (they arranged with our lovely Vet to collect a new prescription that afternoon) and I set off to buy a disposable camera to record the trip.

This was our cabin on the lake - and very pretty it was too

If you peer very closely you might just spot Dave's friends calling for their breakfast (remember these pics were taken with a disposable camera!)

Afternoon tea on the beach at Lyme Regis - I told you the weather was great

There was a lovely pub on the quayside at Weymouth harbour and it would have been rude not to stop for a drink.

Fossil hunting on Chesil Beach - didn't find any, hey, I could have lied and said that we'd discovered a new dinosaur bone never before seen by man! (I'm too honest for my own good sometimes)

Two Go Daft in Dorset

To celebrate Dave finishing his contract in London, we took ourselves away for a few days down to Dorset.  

We had been considering booking a cheap flight out to the Canary Islands to spend the days lying around on the beach to get some colour back into our pale Celtic skin, but quite honestly I couldn't stand the thought of paying out good money to stay in an apartment complex where the kitchen is a two ring Belling cooker with a dodgy plug and a frayed lead. OK I know that times have changed and standards have improved over the years but when funds were limited and the kids were still young enough to want an early dinner and a nap before their wicked parents dragged them back out to a rustic traditional eaterie that welcomed little munchkins who thought that taramasalata should be worn as well as eaten, we stayed in some pretty ropey apartements.  Not that this spoilt our fun, we had some brilliant holidays when they were babies but there did come a time when we realised that if we took them camping in Europe then we could get a lot more for our money and they would have far more freedom then they ever would have in a small apartment with very little outside space.

Now we might be a bit older (just a little bit!) and the chicks have flown the nest but Dave and I still enjoy the freedom that camping gives you, the only problem is, the weather in March is so changable, you have to be pretty hardy (or fool hardy) to go camping even as far south as Dorset at this time of the year.  As it happens we had brilliant weather last week, the sun shone every day and, out of the wind, it was positivly balmy but being the wimps we are, rather than risk gales and heavy rain ruining our trip we decided to leave the camper van at home and rent a cabin down by the coast. 

We stayed on a holiday park (think Centre Parks without the subtropical swimming paradise) and had found that we were staying in log cabin on a little island set in the middle of a lake. There was only one other cabin on the island and we rarely saw our neighbours but Dave was adopted by some very confident wild fowl who came tapping on the kitchen door each morning and wouldn't go away until he gave them a breakfast of wholemeal bread loving torn into bite sized chucks by his own fair hands. 

Our days were spent exploring the villages and coast line of Dorset and in the evening we ate good food, drank lots of wine and snuggled down in front of the fire (only a flame effect electric jobby but who's complaining) where Dave tried to teach me how to do a cryptic crossword rather than the usual general knowledge take a wild guess at it type that I usually choose to do.

So no wild parties or late nights propping up a Spanish bar but for us it was the perfect break and now we are home, batteries charged and ready to face the next chapter....

I've had visitors bearing gifts

True to their word, our local Fire Brigade (are they still called a Brigade, or should we be calling them a Service?) sent two Fire Fighters to check out our fire safety awareness and fire alarms this morning.  

Well I'm not sure if they were Fire Fighters,  they could have been ex-Fighters who now have the dubious pleasure of going house to house fitting fire alarms for those of us who lost their temper with the last smoke alarm because the bloody thing used to deafen any one walking within a five mile radius of our kitchen  if I so much as boiled a kettle!

Suitably chastened and now the proud owner of two spanking new fire alarms that don't even need batteries (how does that work?) I am now trying to find a way of fitting the child gate across the kitchen door in such a  way that I can close the door while I'm cooking so the bloody things don't go off when I'm cooking dinner tonight.  

(The poor Fire Fighter (ex or otherwise) looked very confused when I tried to explain to her that the gate wasn't to keep children out of the kitchen rather to keep the dogs in - she didn't say a word, she just smiled sweetly and hurriedly made her escape)

Galaxy Zoo 2 ( 2)

I have just finished reading Dr Chris Lintott's very good article about Galaxy Zoo in the September Issue of Physics World  and was struck by some of the testimonials from the contributors to the original survey.  They are intelligent, erudite and informed, just what you would expect from people who are so enthused by astrophysics that they were prepared to spend hours in front of the computers classifying distant galaxies, or is it?  

I think that the scientists might be missing a trick, after all here we have 10's of thousands of people all involved in one gigantic research project and nobody is asking who they are or why there are there.  With a small well worded 'give us a few details about yourself' intro for new classifiers, scientists could have a potential database of information about people who are prepared to spend time on this fascinating project.  

OK I hear you ask, why would a Physicist be remotely interested in the kinds of people doing the classifying?  Well for a start, the data could be used to influence how Physics is taught in schools.  I'm sure that I'm not the only classifier whose experience of Physics in school was a lesson in total bafflement - though in my defence our Physics teacher did run off with a girl in the Lower Sixth the year I was due to sit my O level and the supply teacher our school managed to find at short notice was worse than useless.

I would be fascinated to know who is doing all this classifying, are the majority scientists?  Or are they people who really enjoyed science in school but never had the opportunity to take their interest any further than buying a cheap telescope for their kids? Or are they one of the hundreds of amateur astronomists around the country for whom an interest has become a passion? Or are they like me? 

My son is a Physicist, my daughter a Mathematician and my husband is a Banker while I am just a dreamer.  I look at the galaxies presented to me and stare in awe and wonder at them.  I'm blown away by the colours and shapes and get foolishly excited when I see something that I don't expect to see.  I don't have a telescope or know the name of the constellations (apart from Orion's Belt) and I've literally fallen out of my chair trying to spot shooting stars (we were camping in France and Dave and the kids were getting excited watching a meteor shower but by the time they had shouted  'look at that Mum' the damn thing had passed over and I had to crane  my neck so far back I fell out of the chair)

The only astronomy I do is when I'm walking the dogs. I once got  so excited when I spotted Venus that I fell up the kerb!  But I love being a part of Galaxy Zoo 2 and take my role very seriously. I honestly believe that us dreamers have something to give to the scientific community even if it is only enthusiasm and not a thirst for greater knowledge or understanding of the solar systems.  I just want to keep looking at the sky and dreaming and what's so wrong with that?

Margaret Thatcher

I have an admission to make, last night I watched the BBC2 programme Margaret, there I've said it and would you believe it the world hasn't imploded.  

Why am I sharing this terrible secret with you? Well for those of you who didn't live through, or were having too much fun at the time and can't remember the Thatcher years, it may seem a strange thing to be so secretive about. But just try something for me - the next time you are talking to your parents/grandparents or any one over 50 that you know reasonably well, ask them if they ever voted for Maggie Thatcher's government.  I can guarantee that the answer will be a resounding NO.  I have never met a soul who will admit to be a Conservative supporter in the 80's and 90's - strange, when she was Prime Minister for almost 11 years.  But it's just something that nobody will admit to.

Did I ever vote for Maggie? Honestly the answer is no. 

As a card carrying member of the then Liberal Party I would never have dreamt of voting Conservative but, and this is a big but, I was tempted.  After all she was running to be the first ever woman Prime Minister of this country.  I, along with many of my friends, thought that this would be the turning point for women in this country.  No longer would Westminster be dominated by the old guard, the men in suits who ran the country as if it was their own private club.  I really believed that the doors of boardrooms throughout the land would be opened up to talented professional woman for the first time.  I imagine we felt much like Barack Obama's supports felt, this could be our time and believe me like America in 2008, this country in the 1970's was ready for change.

With hindsight though I can't believe how naive we were.  Maggie didn't open up doors for woman, she made sure that they were firmly shut in our faces.  Her hectoring and that incessant bullying tone of hers were legendary and the worst insult any young woman in business could be called was a Thatcherite (or possibly a raving feminist, but that's an other story).  The problem was that dear Mrs Thatcher didn't believe in sexual equality, she believed that she was better than any man. She ran the country as she ran her Cabinet, there could be no dissension, no discussion, no exchange of ideas, it was her way or noway.  She was a tyrant with a perm.

She was personally responsible for the emasculation of the Trade Union movement in this country, she shut the coal mines, destroyed the steel industry and decimated the docks and because of her actions in deregulating the City she is inadvertently partly responsible for the mess the banking system is in now.

During the 70's and 80's I was working in the City of London and saw first hand the effects of that Conservative government.  The Fat Cats were getting fatter and the 'boys' in the City were spending money like it was going out of fashion.  And all this was going on in a country where whole communities were being destroyed through unemployment.  In some of the old coal mining towns the despair was palpable.  Grown men were crying themselves to sleep because they couldn't see a way of ever getting back into work.  Many woman were working very long hours in degrading low paid jobs just to pay the rent and put food on the table while young City Dealers and Traders were drinking Bubbly at lunch time while arguing for a good deal on their latest new Porsche on their new fangled mobile phones.

Last night's drama concentrated on the eleven days leading up to Maggie's spectacular fall from power. Watching it brought back many memories for me of those days; from working in the City to getting married and eventually becoming a parent, all to the backdrop of Poll Tax riots, mass unemployment and the rise of a 'New Home Owning Democracy'.  It was a strange time to live through if you had any kind of social conscience and the one memory I will hold of the Drama is that of a defeated Thatcher sitting at the kitchen table in Number 10 sobbing.  I would like to believe that happened but somehow I doubt it, after all the woman who wasn't for turning certainly wasn't human.

If you missed the programme you catch it for the next 6 days on the BBCiplayer

 

Galaxy Zoo 2

Welcome to Galaxy Zoo, where you can help astronomers explore the Universe

For the past week I have found a brilliant excuse not to get on with the  novel, I have been classifying galaxies, and before you think that I have gone totally gaga let me explain. On the news the other morning I heard a chap explaining how Oxford University wanted 'ordinary' people to look at images of distant galaxies and classify them using a relatively simple set of criteria.  

Apparently this only the second time that this sort of thing has been done on such a large scale - the last project which was called just Galaxy Zoo, had 150,000 volunteer classifiers and the Oxford team were so impressed by the results that they have just launched the sequel, Galaxy Zoo 2.

Now I'm not particularly scientifically inclined (just ask my son!) nor am I a techie whizz (again ask said son) but when Dr Chris Lintott ( a Postdoctoral Researcher in Astrophysics) said that while Astrophysicists seem to have problems following the instructions for new classifiers on the website, the average 6 year old didn't, so it looked like I might be OK.  In fact the only problem I have had so far (apart from spending far too much time on the site and not enough time writing the novel) is that I made a right fool of myself yesterday when I tried to post a message onto one of the forums and couldn't attach an image to it.  (You use the forums to show something odd/strange in a Galaxy you have been classifying)

Now rather than bore you all to death with pictures of my favourite Galaxies and yes I am building quite a little portfolio of favourites, I will just say that while there has been much discussion on the forums about 'muffins' I feel that I might be the first to report a 'chili'.

You might need to squint to see it in the top right hand corner of the picture - I have taken to squinting at all the images - note to self; I really must get better lighting around the computer!

I will let you know if anyone comes back to me on my ground breaking discovery - so far the only messages I've had on the forum are those trying to explain to me how to attach an image - duhh, I don't think that I'm impressing them with my limited grasp of technology...

 

Have you been wondering what 'Fat Cats' get paid?

Bosses' pay in 2007 at UK banks now receiving government support pay at UK banks receiving government  pay at UK banks receiving g

RBS

upport

Sir Fred Goodwin

Group chief executive

£4,190,000

HBOS

Peter Cummings

Chief executive, corporate division

£2,606,000

Lloyds TSB

J Eric Daniels

Group chief executive

£2,884,000

Bradford & Bingley

Steven Crawshaw

Group chief executive

£1,112,548

Northern Rock

Adam Applegarth

Chief executive

£785,000

Infact if you take all the Bosses' salaries for 2007, in just the banks that are now taking Government handouts, it comes to an eye-watering £22,651,120 and remember this is JUST the big bosses - the top 12 men in these companies.  This figure doesn't include any other Directors or staff, just these 12 men (no women you will notice).  

And what's so special about 2007?  well apart from the fact that these banks were going to hell in a handcart because of their involvement in the sub-prime market, this is the last year of accounts available.  

The 2008 accounts are now being reported with Barclays leading the way with a profit of £6.1 bn and what will they be paying out in salaries and bonuses? Well accouring to Forbes, Barclays are slashing the bonuses they'll pay out by 50%.  Gosh that sounds good I hear you say, Barclays are taking this situation seriously but wait, earlier this year the Guardian reported that the Chief Executive of Barclays Capital, Bob Diamond, was in line for a bonus of £14.8m and no that's not a typing error - he was expected to receive a wopping £14,800,000 but now we hear that Barclays will not be paying any Bonuses to their Executive Directors. Don't feel too sorry for Bob though, I'm sure that he has some cash left out of the £22m he was paid in 2006.  It is being reported in the Australian newspaper, The Age, that Barclays Capital are line to payout nearly £600m in bonuses for 2008 so maybe Bob will be lucky after all. 

Do you think  that's what Barclays Chief Executive John Varley means when he says that banks need to be "sensitive to the mood of the times."

Well if that's their idea of sensitivity I don't want to be around when they start playing hardball.  

Dear Diary

I've never kept a diary, I've written numerous holiday journals and for the past couple of years I've rabbited away on this blog but I've never written in a proper diary.  I was about to say that I'm not sure why, but the real reason is that if I starting writing one then I would have to be honest about everything, feelings, emotions, relationships, everything and I don't think that I could do that.

No that's not true, I could do it, but then I would be terrified that somebody might read it.  After all what would people think of me if they knew that instead of being the kind of person who always believes that the cup is half full, they suddenly realised that sometimes I could scream about life not being fair and regret that I didn't have the courage to do things that might now have me living on the lap of luxury on a Caribbean island.

I couldn't cope with laying myself out to such scrutiny when the times I spend navel gazing are so infrequent.  Most of the time my cup really is half full, it's just now and again, usually after a disturbed night or bad news, that I could put my head in my hands and weep about how shitty life is.   Introspection would give me an ulcer, so I think that I am far better off looking on the bright side, keeping my chin up and occasionally topping up the half full glass.

There is a diarist I particularly admire though.  Alright Tit is the diary of a young woman who has been having treatment for breast cancer.  She writes with passion and humour about a subject that most of us, if we are honest, would prefer not to think about.  

The funny thing is that I only found her blog because of Twitter - Steven Fry again - 

I think it's fabulous that potentially millions of people all over the world can now read such an inspirational story just because they can access a computer.  

As I've said many times before, this interwebby thingy is a very strange place....

Murphy gets comfortable

It's cold outside and you've been playing in the snow since 7am so now it's time for a nap (is it any wonder my settee is looking it's age!) 

It's been snowing

Since Friday the Met Office has been telling us that we would have snow by Monday - guess what it's Monday and it's been snowing.  

To those of you living through the heatwave in Australia this might not sound a big deal but when I tell you that London has had its heaviest snowfall in 18 years you might just realise why the BBC thinks that it's such a big deal - you see all their journos live in London so without the expense and inconvenience of travelling outside the capital they can now report on how Britain is being effected by 'these extreme weather conditions'

All I'm waiting for now is for one little Henrietta at the Daily Mail who is a) too young to remember 6'' of snow in London and b) has never ventured any further north than Hampstead, to start moaning that this country is going down the pan because the buses in London haven't been running 'when in Sweden they have snow every winter and they don't loose a days productivity because of 6'' of the white stuff'  and without a doubt it's all going to be the fault of this Labour government and Gordon Brown in particular...

Well Henrietta, let me tell you that the reason that our continental neighbours don't grind to a halt each winter is because they know that it is going to snow  - they have snow ploughs and glugwein and chains for their tyres . Norwegians  are resigned to the fact that from November to March they will probably have to dig their cars out every morning.  We, on the other hand, have to wait 18 years for 6'' of snow in London , so what does Henrietta think that this government should do,  have snow ploughs parked up along the Embankment every winter just in case it snows in London? Does she even know that in Scotland has a thriving skiing scene? probably not, after all if it doesn't happen in London it doesn't count!

(Dave had an early meeting in London this morning  and rather than risk being stuck in Manchester airport at 5am this morning waiting for them to defrost the planes, he travelled down yesterday by train - guess what - he is the ONLY bugger who has managed to get to the meeting when all the others had only to travel across the capital)

I feel a real twit

I'm in a quandary

Many moons ago I signed up to Friends Reunite. What fun I thought, you can look up your old school friends and see what they have been up to over the years. Then dear FR started charging for emails and frankly I was miffed - this wasn't what I signed up for but reluctantly I paid my £7 (?) and mailed a few old school mates. Now of course the service is free and you can mail away to your heart's content and believe me some people are doing just that.

This week I had a message from somebody I don't know, never heard of them, can't remember them for toffee and I don't know what to do about it- should I mail this woman back and explain that the ravages of time and a misspent youth have addled my brain and I can't remember going to school with her? or should I just ignore her message and leave it sitting in my inbox as a permanent reminder that I am a bad person who doesn't deserve friends? I did ask an old friend who has a wonderful memory for all things scholastic (I can't even remember the name of my favourite teacher - how bad is that!) but even she didn't know the name. I feel so guilty, this woman obviously knew me and even mentioned that I used to have long red hair - shit, what ever I do will feel wrong. I don't want to upset her by telling her that she is truly unmemorable but on the hand it seems rude not to reply, but on the third hand I tried searching for her in my old schools and couldn't find her, so maybe she isn't who she says she is - maybe she is a stalker - maybe she isn't a she at all - maybe I'm being groomed!! But probably I'm just being neurotic and should get on with some work.

While I'm rabbiting about this social networking stuff I have a confession to make - I have joined Twitter - and what a strange phenomenon that is. If I'm honest I only signed up because of an interview I saw/heard with Steven Fry who was raving about it, shallow I know but at least I'm honest.

The trouble is I don't know what to do on there. I am 'following' mainly news based and current affairs type stuff ( as well of course as Steven Fry) and it was very strange that half an hour after I started 'following' Barrack Obama (how cool is that) I had message to say that he was following me.....Do you think that means that some poor sod in the Pentagon or the White House is logging onto to Twitter each day to see what Barry's 'followers' are twittering about? I wonder how much they get paid? I wonder if they have ever considered employing a remote worker for the job? Just think they could be paying me for doing something that is a bigger waste of time than being a mystery shopper (don't ever believe that customer service is important in this country - that way lies madness!) after all what do they expect Barry's followers to be twittering about? world domination and the collapse of capitalism?? As far as I can see the only things being talked about are either breaking news from Channel 4 or random twitters telling you what they had for breakfast - as I've said many times before the web is a very strange place!

The hidden dangers in a visit to the Dentist

Last week my dental hygienist sneezed and two days later I came down with a horrible cough and cold.  

I can't be sure that one discreet sneeze, which if I'm honest,  was behind my back and her mouth was covered by a mask, was responsible, but I'm still going to blame her - why? because I'm shallow and pathetic and feeling very sorry for myself - I've had my winter cold already - I don't deserve another one - it's not fair - why didn't she save her sneeze for the next patient who probably hasn't had a cold this winter and is due a snotty bug.

I should be enjoying the winter sunshine walking the dogs across the fields so Murphy can chase imaginary rabbits (bless!) and Bella can catch a ball and hide it for me to find (I think she might be a little confused about who is exercising who here!) - but instead I'm sitting here swaddled in woolly layers sipping hot fruit juice and popping paracetamol!

A little footnote to this rant - last night at 9pm Dave phoned me - we had a chat and were about to hang up when I realised that I couldn't remember what day it was, seriously I couldn't work out when I had seen him last and when he was due home next - can a mixture of a temperature, paracetamol, ibuprofen and a lack of sleep addle the brain or am I just loosing it?  It was about 10 minutes after our chat that I remembered that it was Monday and I had taken him to the airport that morning and he is due home on Friday - I don't know which upset me more, realising that I had forgotten, or it taking me so long to remember.

Daily

When ever I log on I always check out the Blog of Note for the day. These are, in the words of Google 'Interesting and noteworthy logger-powered blogs, compiled by the Blogger Team'

I'm not sure what criteria they use to choose the Blogs in question but sometime they find a real gem. One I am following at the moment is An Explorer's View of Life.  This chap writes gentle tales of his life and family and it's not so much what he says that I find so fascinating but the way that he says it.  He writes so eloquently it is a joy to read.

Twelfth Night

It's Twelfth Night tonight so all our decorations are now down and the house is back to normal.  No more Christmas trees with their twinkling lights, no more holly wreaths and baubles but we do still  have lots of chocolates and fancy biscuits to tempt the weak-willed away from their New Year diets - or maybe that's just me.

We had a lovely Christmas, lots to eat and drink and Santa was particularly generous as Dave was in such a hurry to get home that he left my presents in London and had to rush out on Christmas Eve with Lesley and buy replacements! Well done Lel - I love the bag and the digital photo frame!

For New Years Eve we all went our separate ways, James went back to Aber, Lesley travelled down to Somerset for a party and I travelled down to London to stay with Dave.  We had a fab meal in the most retro Italian restaurant in London.  It was like travelling back to the 70's, posters of Sorento on the walls and empty Chianti bottles hanging from the fake beams on the ceiling but best of all were the temperamental Italian waiters straight out of central casting - it was totally unreal! We then went to see Blood Brothers along with an audience of mainly foreign tourists.  Quite what they made of the references to Liverpool in the 1960's is any body's guess but if the standing ovation they gave the cast at the end of the show is anything to go by they enjoyed the night as much as we did. On New Years Day we braved the cold and went back up into town to watch the New Year Parade through Westminster and then walked through to Hyde Park to warm up with glugwein at the Winter Wonderland Fair

As we were travelling home on Saturday we had a whole extra day to ourselves on the Friday 2 Jan so we made the most of it and had a bracing walk along the Thames Path from Canary Wharf to the Tower of London, stopping along the way at various hostelries for alcoholic refreshment, before meeting up with Janis and Graham in the evening for dinner - smashing way to end the holidays even if it did mean that we were a bit bleary eyed on the 7.20am flight out of London City the next morning!

Merry Christmas

Not long now - only 2 days 'till Christmas.  The decorations are up, the turkey is defrosting  - I love Christmas!!

The birds have their own wreath full of nuts and seeds ( and clementines for colour)

There are snowflakes in the conservatory

And a trendy chilli wreath on the drive

Just the cake to ice and the last of the presents to wrap all we need now is Dave to come home and we'll be complete

Hydrotherapy

As part of Murphy's on-going treatment for his hip dysplasia I take him swimming once a week. His muscle tone has really improved and over the weeks his stamina has improved so much that he now wears me out on our daily walks.

On a cold day like today it is lovely and warm in the water and he gets a good work out, especially now he doesn't have to wear a life jacket. He does get over enthusiastic sometimes and poor John the hydrotherapist has to make sure that he keeps his fingers tucked in when Murphy is chasing the toy. So far he hasn't managed to eat any of John's fingers - though it has been close - the poor man deserves danger money!!

I Blame the Early Start

Couldn't understand why I was getting colder and colder this morning until that is I looked at the central heating control panel and discovered that I had switched it off rather than putting it on - on the coldest day of the year - duhhh

The poor boy

Sometimes I think that Bella just uses me

'I  dare you to break the ice on the pond' she said

Then she ran off and ate it!

and she didn't leave any for me

the poor boy but it's a lesson well learnt - you can't outwit a bitch 

Do you think she'll want seconds?