Doing what is probably best for you, never feels like the right thing to do.
Not impressed with myself right now.
As many of you will know, I'm not afraid to try different things in the kitchen. Tonight for example, I mashed together Swede and Potato to make "Swash". And very nice it was too.
Previously, I have tried different things in my mash including:
Onion, English Mustard, Wholegrain Mustard, Peppers, herbs, and cheese.
Tonight, however, and new idea for a potential addition to mash popped into my head; Peanut.
Before you all recoil in disgust and horror, think for a second: Peanuts have been used in cooking by various cultures for centuries, so there must be some merit in their use? In my head I am genuinely not getting the notion that it wouldn't work, so will definitely give it a try - maybe Peanut Butter in mash would work better? I'll try both.....separately (the mash might taste too peanutty otherwise)
I've had a pain in my right knee today. I get this pain every now and then, and then it goes away again.
What I don't understand is why the pain I get comes and goes at random it would appear. I assume this pain is in my joint (that's what it feels like), but I'm not straining the joint by throwing my leg around one day and then walking normally the next. As far as I can tell, I'm using my legs in the same way each and every day - so why should this knee hurt one day but not the next?
I thought pain was the body's way of telling us to stop, or that something is wrong. All that is well and good, but random pain is just our body buggering about surely....
Me: Ow! My Knee!
My Body: Sorry, that's me. I'm just telling you to stop whatever you are doing.
Me: Okay, I'll stop.
My Body: Stop what?
Me: stop what I am doing that is making my knee hurt.
My Body: But the knee doesn't hurt?
Me: Well it was.
My Body: Was it? When?
Me: Just now!
My Body: What?
Now, I'm not an expert on the subject, but I believe that part of the magic of a relationship is the fact that it is a blend of each parties individual lifestyles, forged together to form a new 'best of both worlds' combined lifestyle (or "Combyle" as I like to name the copywritten title for it). This Combyle does not happen overnight - it is created by both people in the relationship finding out what they like and don't like about each other, and then through communication and understanding whittling away removing the worst elements and revealing the best of each of them. Much like a Sculptor erm....sculpting.
Is Sculptor spelt correctly? Or should it be Sculpter? Both look wrong to me....
Anyway, I am aware that I have developed certain habits during my time on board HMS Microwave Dinner for One, that might not necessarily show me in the best light.
I'm not talking anything of a "personal" nature here - all of that is in good condition and like that new stereo you bought a month ago: permanently on standby.
No, I'm talking about other little habits I've picked up living by myself.
For example: My waste not attitude to cooking. If I am having say, Soup and a sandwich, any crumbs etc. left on the chopping board after making the sandwich gets tipped into the soup as it is heated up.
I'm sure you will agree that in these hard times we must all do what we can to make things stretch a little further.
Another habit of mine is to "bulk wash" my clothes. I can generally get through an entire weeks worth of washing in three loads - those loads being titled 'whites and anything lighter than grey', 'greys, blacks, dark blues, and anything that won't run', and finally 'coloureds and stuff that doesn't matter if it is ruined'. Whilst this suits me, it might not go down to well with any potential partner.
But perhaps my worst habit can be seen when I make toast and marmalade. You see, I have developed what could be called a 'tick' - an almost involuntary movement - that I don't even realise I am doing:
I lick the knife.
That's not so bad, you might say - but it is.
Because I lick the knife between buttering the toast, and spreading the marmalade on. Once finished, I lick the knife again.
But I leave it out incase I want to make more.
The same knife!
Licked! By me!
It is these sorts of habits that must be left behind in singleville, should I ever take a trip to relationship town in the future.
Some people don't like dogs because they jump up. Some people don't like dogs because they bite. And some people don't like dogs because they smell.
Those people are wrong. All animals smell. People smell. Dogs give more love than people.
That is all I have to say.
My car is possessed by a ghost that cannot make up its mind.
At least that is what it feels like when I have the radio on. I used to listen to "Wave 105" a local radio station - but I found that on the journeys I was doing, I wasn't getting good reception. In the end I found a radio station that came through much clearer - "Midwest Radio" - and have been listening to that.
However, a strange phenomenon keeps occurring: at certain points on some journeys the signal from Midwest Radio is suddenly replaced by the signal from another radio station. The result is that the music I hear changes back and forth as if someone was tuning it to and fro. Yesterday for about a mile I was listening to "I will always love you" by Whitney Houston being regularly interspersed with "Firestarter" by the Prodigy. Although only temporary, it makes for interesting.listening!
Is there an unwritten rule that says washing must be Hung neatly on the washing line? I only ask because I put some washing out today as it was a windy day (I'm not saying that the weather dictates how clean my clothes are, just that today was a good day for drying), and although I Hung everything neatly, the wind made a complete mess of it. It was folded over the line or scrunched up together, it was a mess!
So can we just hang our washing any old way on windy days - or is there snobbery and elitism amongst washers of clothes, and having your washing Hung incorrectly could result in you being shunned? I don't know, but I know that rushing out every two minutes to re-straighten the washing is not fun.
Life is a constant learning curve; we learn new stuff all the time. A few days ago I learnt something new about coffee granules. Did you know that if you add the boiling water to the coffee before you add the milk, the water burns the coffee slightly and gives it a different taste, than if you add the milk first.
I had no idea about that until someone told me a few days ago. Try it for yourself and see....
I have established my new bird feeder in my garden (see picture below). I had to spend £27 on feeders, and nuts and seeds, but it is all ready. I must admit I stood for long periods today staring at it through my kitchen window waiting for signs of any interest from our feathered friends, but without success. Perhaps the local birds have seen it but don't trust what it is. I guess I have to give them time. Watch this space!
I was going to write more, but have left it too late. So all I am going to say is.....
In Welsh (the Welsh language) there has to be an even number of syllables in every sentence.
No I can't get my head round that either.
Oh, and there is no Welsh word for.trousers - they say 'trousers'
As I type this, I am fighting the urge to leap out of bed and run downstairs. No, I don't need the toilet - the urge I fight is a mental one, not a physical one.
You see, part me (namely, the paranoid, constantly worrying part) isn't totally sure that I switched the cooker off 3 hours ago when my dinner was finished cooking, and now wonders if I should check. I don't want to go and check, but the paranoia has seeped into the recall section of my memory, and I can't be totally certain that I did switch the cooker off.
What isn't helping me is the fact that I can still smell my dinner on my breath (dinner involved onion and is repeating on me), but my brain is convincing itself that what I am actually smelling is spilt ingredients from tonight's dinner steadily cooking away on one of the hob rings that I've left on.
It's no good - I'm going to have to go check....
As I thought; I hadn't left the cooker on. When I walked into the kitchen I immediately knew the cooker was off, because the light on the socket that comes on when I turn the cooker on at the socket was off. However, I still had to turn on the kitchen light to "double check", with the frightened part of me saying 'the socket light could be faulty, best to check'.
I hate how I seem to be having these self doubts more and more. On almost a daily basis, when I leave for work in the morning I lock my front door, walk down my garden, turn out of my gate and say 'did I lock the door?'
I am aware that part of this worrying stems from previous experiences such as when I flooded an entire ground floor because I forgot to put the drainage hose from the washing machine in the sink.
What worries me is whether as I get older, will these instances of self doubt increase to the point that as an old man I will end up double checking every other action I do all day, everyday. Will I check that I have put my pants on, moments after pulling them on? Will I cook two meals every night only to remember three mouthfulls in to the second meal that I have eaten already?
I guess soon I will have to decide which is worse: the fear of not bothering to do something that could lead to disaster, or the feeling of constant self doubt.
Or I could just stop worrying and get on with life!
I'm not usually a subscriber to conspiracy theories, but I'm pretty sure that the makers of kitchen knives and pots and pans are in league with Hospitals.
Tonight I had pie and mash and veg. I always steam my veg over my potatoes (said the boy scout to the nurse) as it keeps in the goodness etc. I have a three tier metal steamer set - the potatoes boil in the bottom with the veg in the two tiers above them, being steamed.
After dinner I washed up. As I was doing so, I discovered that my small kitchen knife (being the smallest of my knives, and not a knife for a small kitchen) was wedged in the bottom of one of my steamer tiers. There is a little groove running round the tier where it sits inside the other tier, and this knife was from handle to point wedged across the bottom of the tier.
I tried tapping the tier to free the knife, but without success. So then I grabbed the handle and started pulling at it. Initially nothing happened - the knife was stuck fast. Then suddenly WHAM! The knife comes free, flies spinning upwards and the handle hits me in the face just below my left eye. I wasn't hurt, but if it had been the blade, I could have been.
The kitchen knives and the steamer set are made by different companies, and yet the knife managed to get wedged in the tier. As a result, I could have been blinded.
I'm sure there is a standard size for kitchen utensils - probably designed by nurses so that they always know the rough area of damage when details of a kitchen injury comes through. How else can you explain the number of children that get their heads stuck in a saucepan every year?
I think there is something fishy going on.....and I don't mean smoked Salmon.
It is a well known fact that stroking a pet does release endorphins (that might not the correct spelling) and helps relieve stress ( that is the correct spelling). What may be less well known is that viable pets for stroking are really only cats, dogs and rabbits. Extensive studies have found that fish are difficult to stroke in their tank, and flap about too much out of it. After a while they stop moving, but tests found that stroking a dead fish didn't do much for stress levels.
So dogs, cats, and rabbits are the answer. But what if you don't have a pet? For years, this was the question on the lips of scientists studying stress reduction techniques everywhere. Thankfully, an answer presented itself:
Folically over-endowed friends.
All of us know someone in our circle of friends who is too hairy. If you can't think of anyone in your circle of friends, then it's you. In my circle of friends, its me; I'm so hairy that I look like a gorilla mated with a praying mantis and I was the offspring. When I take off my t-shirt, I look like I'm wearing a mohair sweater.
Nonetheless, hairy people are still people, and can offer just as much as the rest of society - if not more.
Human hair is very similar to pet hair, therefore the feel you get from it is virtually identical. Why then, should it not have the same benefits when it comes to stroking it?
There are other benefits than the physical ones; winter is almost upon us, and with the cost of winter fuel going up, think of the money you would save by cuddling up to a six foot hairy person rather than a small cat. The extra body warmth would be literally worth its weight in gold. Hairy folk should be dished out to old people on a weekly basis along with their pension. They can have them for a week, and then get a different one the following week.
Not only would this system benefit the most.vulnerable members of our society, but would help old people too.
So if you are without a pet, or are unable to get one for whatever reason, do the next best thing; get a hairy person into your life, and give their hair a stroke.
You won't regret it...
As many of you who know me will testify, I am a lifeform made out of the clothing of nuns - I am a creature of habit.
One of my habits is this: The first weekend after I get paid, I spoil myself by going to Yeovil, having a Costa, and maybe buying myself a Blu-ray film or a Cd.
Last payday, this was precisely what I did, and the CD I purchased was a U2 greatest hits album. I played it on the drive back home, and left it in the car for future audio entertainment.
However, the next time I came to drive my car sufficient distance to warrant playing a CD, the disc and case were nowhere to be found. I have searched that car thoroughly since then, and have found no trace of that album. It is just like it evaporated into thin air.
By the way, if we can have thin air, what does thick air look like?
Maybe this is the future of music. Perhaps in an effort to get in line with the environmentalists, all CD's that are produced will evaporate after a fixed period of time. Not only would this reduce the landfills (a little), but would encourage people to buy more CD's (provided they did not have the ability to download music).
I honestly do not know where that CD went - either I ate it (unlikely), dropped it outside the car (improbable), or I dreamt the whole thing (could be!)
Whatever happened, It's weird.....
The human brain, whilst being the most sophisticated computer ever created, isn't half weird at times.
Yesterday I caught about three minutes of the film "Four Lions", which is a comedy drama about four British Muslims to turn to extremism.
On the basis of those three minutes, my brain decided to create a dream for me - a dream in which I befriend four Muslim lads, and end up getting duped into letting one of them swap the photo in my passport so they can go on a terrorism attack - leaving me unable to go on holiday.
What I don't understand is why my brain chose to take details from that particular film as a basis for my dream, as opposed to any other program I had watched that day? I could have had a dream about playing up front for Arsenal, or about being a stand up comedian, or any of a hundred different topics. What part of the brain controls what goes into our brain? And who's running that part, cos it is messed up!
Also, why is there always weird stuff going on in dreams? There is no way that someone could use my passport just by swapping the photo? All the other information - my name, address etc. - is the same, so it would never work. At least not in reality. In a dream however, where talking giant underpants, houses that change shape at random, and a table lamp eating a rhino are all perfectly normal, misusing a passport in that way is totally acceptable.
Maybe the weird stuff is there so we can tell it is a dream. If dreams were just like normal everyday life, some people in society would never know when they were awake. If ever someone was able to record a dream and make a movie based on it, it would be the strangest movie ever made.
I think of the brain as two brothers; the brain that controls the physical side of things - breathing, motor skills, circulation etc. - is a normal, sensible child that is well behaved.
The brain that deals with the subconscious, dreams, fears, and imagination etc. is running round with his pants round his ankles pretending to be a combine harvester, whilst drooling with a crayon up his nose.
My clippers lie.
I use them without guards to shave my head, and to also thin my beard and on occasions, my eyebrows (bushy eyebrows are a family trait - in the men, anyway).
However, the word thin does not accurately describe the process. A more accurate description would be "yank out with as much force and as little mercy as possible" because this is what happens.
To be fair, a set of slippers with the words "trim" and "yank out with as much force and as little mercy as possible" would be about a foot wide, and just not feasible - so I suppose that "trim" will have to stay.
But believe me, they do not thin. They rip.
What a night I've had. Got invited out for a pint by the incredible Alyn Williams and Emma Weeks, got to cuddle their gorgeous daughter Fern, and got to see such wonderful people as Jill Oliver and James Quick, and Jill's daughter Lauren. I also saw Pip Anderson and her sort of bloke.
I've had an amazing night, thanks to these people.
Whatever happened to common sense? What happened to such phrases as 'you've only got yourself to blame', and 'watch where you are going!' ?
In the good old days (about 20 years ago) if there was a hole in the road, it was our responsibility to see that hole, and take appropriate action i.e. walk around it. Today apparently, that is not good enough; people cannot be trusted to think for themselves, and we have to have bollards and cones and barricades and huge yellow signs that say "Watch Out! There's a Hole in The Road Here!
Why must we now legislate for the moronic? Why do we, society, have to compensate for the mental short comings of our members? If a person walking along the street not paying attention to where they are going or what they are doing, accidentally trips over something lying in plain view, why should they get compensation?
Instead of putting up the price of petrol, why not introduce an "Common Sense Tax"? Let's start penalising people for not using their common sense - the government would make a fortune! And would save another fortune because less Health & Safety paraphernalia would be needed.
When I was a child, if I tripped over a kerb and skinned my knee, not only did I get told off for not looking where I was going, I also got a rollocking for putting a hole in my trousers! The thought of blaming someone else didn't exist.
The world is terrified of 'what if' and we are all treated like children because somehow it became easier to say 'that's your fault' than it was to say 'I'm such a clumsy sod!'
I don't have children, I don't know if I ever will - but if I do, I will raise them to be responsible for their own actions. I will install in them the notion that any action of theirs that comes under the category of "Should Know Better" will automatically void the warranty on any sympathy or support of their explanations afterwards, should something unfortunate occur as a direct result of said action.
Why have we abandoned the learning process? It's got us from caveman to modern man okay, so why not stick with the formula? We learn from our mistakes, but if you remove the ability to make mistakes, by making the world idiot proof, are you not making us less intelligent?
The world is a dangerous place - but not THAT dangerous if you apply a little common sense. Roads should not be played near; knives are sharp; hot things can burn you; holes can be fallen into; electric cabling should not be chewed. Little things like these will go along way to keeping yourself and your loved ones safe. You don't have to wrap them in cotton wool 'just in case'.
So parents, grab your kids and push them over. Then rub their face in the dirt and make sure they swallow some. Then let them juggle the rolling pin and drop it on their foot. Make a cup of tea, and after stirring it, put the teaspoon on their arm. They may cry, and they may complain, but you will have taken monstrous steps towards making the rest of their lives better and more enjoyable.
I never realised just how incredible I am, until now.
That may sound like an outlandish statement, but bear with me. You see, I seem to have been endowed with superpower of some kind, and this superpower allows me to do what others cannot, apparently.
You may be wondering what this superpower is - well, its not X-ray vision, and its not the ability to climb buildings and swing from a thread like Spiderman. I don't turn into a huge green monster when I am angry, nor can I fly, run faster than a speeding bullet, or leap tall buildings in a single bound like Superman.
So what is this apparent superpower I possess? From what I can tell, it is simply the ability to do things for others A) without complaining, or B) without expecting anything in return.
It seems to me that the general concensous is, that if there isn't something to be gained by doing it, then there is no point helping people, or I only help people on my terms.
That's not how I work. I will help anyone out if they need my help, and I expect nothing in return. That being said, I will not do something for others just because "they don't want to". I don't ask anyone to do anything that I wouldn't be prepared to do myself, and therefore only ask in real need.
I don't know if this is an indictment of the world we live in today, but it seems too easy to not help, to walk away and leave others to sort it out these days, than it is to put ourselves out and help somebody else out.
Everytime I do something for somebody else, I do it in the hope that one day, should I need, someone will be there to help me.
I understand that helping others is difficult; it actually takes effort - you physically have to move to grab that item from the top shelf, carry that old ladies bag, hold that door open, or whatever form the help may take. Not helping on the other hand, takes no effort at all - ignoring somebody burns zero calories; pretending not to hear will shed zero pounds. You will never break a sweat not helping somebody.
I can only guess that it must boil down to each persons individual outlook. It seems a lot of people are just out to get what they can from life, and are just looking out for themselves. Oh yes, they will get away with what they can, sweet talking their way into situations advantageous to themselves, but when it comes to helping somebody else? Sorry - no can do.
Others will also try to get what they want from life - but at the same time are willing to give a little back to others. They will help out - sometimes to gain an advantage, but not always. And quite often, for no advantage at all.
Maybe I'm an idealist. Maybe I don't live in the real world. Have you seen the real world lately? It's not all sunshine and flowers you know. If you give it a chance, it can grind you down.
I prefer to live the way I do. I might have given you the impression that I am a saint - I'm not, and I don't do impressions. But I will help others when I can, which is a lot of the time.
Tomorrow, I'm picking up my ex-girlfriends daughter from work. I don't have to, as she could get home by other means. However, these other means would not get her home until later. I have my car, I have the time, and it does not inconvenience me at all - so why should I refuse? Because she is the daughter of an Ex? Is that the best reason anyone can come up with? Please......
The way I see things, if it costs you nothing in the grand scheme of things to help someone, what have you got to lose?
WI'm still having trouble you know.
I decided to have pie, mash and vegetables for dinner tonight. It was very tasty and enjoyable, but there was a familiar problem: I'd made way too much. It would appear that my portion calculating software had got a virus somehow, because it was allowing me to use far too much ingredients.
Tonight I peeled and chopped six carrots, two parsnips, and a cauliflower - all for my dinner. As you can see from the picture below. There was loads. In addition to this, I had enough mash potato to feed three people.
Of course, this didn't stop me eating it all. Or getting indigestion afterwards.
However, none of that matters, as this evening. I have brought a bag of Galaxy Minstrels up to bed with me.......
This is a short post, as I am tired. I've had another long day today - started at 5am, and finished at 7:45pm. It was dark when I got to work, and dark when I left work. And even though I was in the warehouse with the shutter door open, I didn't notice the daylight.
I'm sure I'll end up with rickets, or a lazy eye - or whatever happens if you don't get enough Sun.
I'm in at 6am tomorrow, because the transport company we use are rubbish.
At least tonight I get the luxury of setting the alarm for 5am instead of 4am.
Bouquet, Asparagus, Rugby, and Kebab...
Saturday was a busy day. Firstly I had to go shopping for food, petrol, and flowers. I needed the food, my car needed some petrol, and I needed to buy flowers for a friend whose birthday I had forgotten.
With all three purchased, I dropped the flowers off at my friends, had a cup of tea and went on.
The afternoon was boring, but I went out a 6pm to some friends who I was going out to Sherborne with. I had never been to Sherborne socially before, and was looking forward to it.
The first pub in Sherborne we went into was a Rugby pub. You've never seen so many ruddy faced, middle classed, cauliflower eared, rugby shirt wearing folk in all your life. I went to the bar, and got two things: a round of drinks, and a hard time from the barmaid.
<p>For some reason, she had an issue with tall people because she gave both me and my mate Steve who is 6ft + grief. Her people skills were shocking, and she had something green stuck in between her teeth, and whilst her low cut top was very appealing, the asparagus display in her mouth was Somewhat off putting.
We had a few pints in that pub before moving on. Over the course of the night I would be mistaken for a Hells Angel, would find the most pointless Fruit Machine in existence, and by the biggest kebab known to man.
It was a great night!
Firstly, my apologies - I haven't written my blog since Thursday, so tonight I am writing a trio of blogs to catch up.
So, Friday: another long day - 14 hours long in terms of work. I started at 5am and finished at 7pm - largely due to the fact that the lorry I booked to collect 26 pallet from us at midday, didn't arrive until 5pm.
Because of this, I couldn't do the work in the warehouse I wanted to do, so I have to go in early tomorrow (Monday) to catch up.
So I ended the week as I started it - exhausted.
Little did I know how good my weekend would be...
I had a "wobble" today. I've been doing long hours at work, and what I am doing at work presently is fairly soul destroying. I was getting more and more fed up, and really wasn't in a good place. I stopped to have a coffee, and hopped on Facebook and simply put "I hate my life." as my Status update - because that was how I felt at that moment.
Within minutes, messages of concern were coming through on Facebook and my Mobile, and it showed me that I'm actually very lucky because a lot of people do care about me.
And for that, I will be eternally grateful.
I had to go back to the Hospital today for another Visual Fields Test. That is the test to check my peripheral vision. If you remember, this whole saga with my eyes has been going on for about two years now, all because I had one of these Visual Fields Test at the opticians when I got new glasses. To cut a long story short, they are trying to determine whether I am suffering from, or be likely to suffer from Glaucoma, which is caused by high pressure in the eyes.
So I have this test, which is just as difficult as the last time I had it. I'm convinced that I miss more of the lights I am meant to watch out for than I should be. One day I expect to get a letter from the DVLA telling me that based on medical advice they have received about me from my doctor, I would need to have a windscreen six feet thick in order to be able to see to drive. Furthermore (the letter would say), such a windscreen would be a hazard because if I was driving at night, the light from oncoming traffic would be concentrated through the windscreen into a laser beam with the temperature of the sun that would incinerate me, and any traffic up to half a mile behind me.
The nurse then asks me if I am still taking my eye drops that were prescribed to me at my last visit back in September. I say no, because to my knowledge, they weren't a repeat prescription. This appeared to be a wrong answer, as the nurse said that usually, those sorts of medications are repeat prescriptions because often there is a long time between the next appointments and if you didn't keep taking the medication, their benefit might run out before you see a doctor again.
So I have to ring my GP tomorrow, and find out if the eye drops I was prescribed to lower the pressure in my eyes were a repeat prescription type of deal.
I didn't think they were - but what do I know.......
Some might say, that I am easily pleased - and if they did, I'd be happy with that. But I'd also prefer the phrase "Appreciative, and Handsome!". I will concede that I take pleasure from the littlest things - as they are easy to bully, and can't jump up and snatch it back.
I have seen one of my Christmas presents today - it is a Bird Feeder stand with a built in bird table and Bird box, and it is being hand made (by hand) by my good friend Peter. This is a thank you from him for me lending him my car earlier in the year. Although it is not finished, it is looking very good, and I can't wait to watch the birds use it in my garden. I know it will give me great pleasure watching the variety of birds feed from it.
Recently, I appear to be having trouble remembering how a door lock works. Today I tried to unlock my car door by turning the key clockwise TOWARDS the front of the car instead of anti-clockwise. Just before my brain kicked in and remembered what I already knew, I definitely thought that the logical way to unlock a car door with the key is to turn the key towards the engine because that is what makes the car go, and that is what I want to do. For a millisecond, that made perfect sense.
Similarly, when I got home tonight I tried to unlock my door by turning my key even more in the direction that locked it in the first place. My reasoning behind this? I'm am idiot.
I'd like to recommend a film for you to watch: "Unstoppable". I won't tell you what it is about, but will say that it stars Denzel Washington, and the actor who played the young James Kirk in the most recent "Star Trek" film. For the first time in quite a while, I really enjoyed this film.
My beard no longer irritates me! It turns out that it just had to grow to a certain length in order to settle down. I guess that all that soreness and irritation was just the beard equivalent of Teenage years - it was angry, painful and I couldn't do anything with it. Thankfully, now my goatee and I enjoy a much better relationship.
And finally: I love my bed. It's big, comfy, warm, I'm in it, and I don't have to wake up until 7am tomorrow!
Tonight was possibly a waste of time.
As you all undoubtedly know, Monday nights are my Sign Language night, and I go down to Hamworthy near Poole for my two hour class.
This week however, it was looking like I wouldn't be able to go as my car was at the doctors having eye surgery. I was so sure in fact, that I sent my tutor a text saying that I wouldn't be there.
In truth, I was glad - we had two containers booked to arrive today, and I knew it would be a long day. I knew that, because my alarm went off at 4am this morning so I could get dressed and be in work for 5am.
So the plan was not to go to Sign Language class. There have been many great plans throughout the ages, and many plans that looked good, but were ultimately flawed. My plan fell into the second category - along with the plans of Hedey Lamarr (that's Hedley!) to get the good people of Rock Ridge to leave town, so that the railroad could go through it, and the plans for the Death Star - which included that seemingly innocuous exhaust port and trench.
You see, I hadn't bargained on my car being fixed so soon. But as I left work at 5pm - 12 hours after starting - the bloke from the garage told me the car had been fixed, and I could take it home.
As soon as I heard those words, I thought "Sign Language" - I was secretly beginning to feel a bit guilty about not going to Sign Language - I didn't want to miss out on anything, and our group was beginning to bond nicely.
Anyway, I drove home had a bite to eat, and set off to Sign Language.
Well, I needn't have bothered. I was so tired after long hours at work, that I didn't take anything in that was taught. Besides today we covered signs to describe clothing and personal features - most of which were aimed at women, so I wouldn't use them that often. We are off for a week (no class next week) so I have plenty of time to practice.
My eyes are heavy as I type this, so I will stop.
There you go.
I have been genuinely amazed at how lovely the weather has been today. Although it has not been massively warm (it is November), it has been a crisp, bright and just beautiful day.
I haven't done much today - I went for a walk, did my washing, and spent a fair amount of time feeling a wound on the top of my head that I got last night when I cracked my head on the door frame of the pub as I was leaving. Although I was expecting to have a sore head by the end of last night, I didn't expect to get it like that.
I also had a brief moment of loneliness today. These happen to me every now and then. It was this afternoon - I was having a great day, was feeling good, the house was clean and one of my favourite programmes was on TV. Everything had seemed to click together, but there was no-one with me to share it.
I threw away my last relationship, but I know that I am a good bloke and am too good to be alone. I think it would be a good idea if you take all the learning you do from each failed relationship (because we do learn - about others and ourselves), and do it all in one big lump early in life so that you don't mess them up.
I also think there should be an injection that makes you experience all the fear you will ever feel in your lifetime in one go, so that you get it out the way and don't let it hold you back.
My loneliness was only temporary, and I am back to my handsome, attractive self.
I'm about to tuck into my tea - another slow cooker spectacular - so I will bid you farewell.
Thanks for reading.
In the past, its fair to say that I have not been house proud, and my standard of living has not been very high.
However thanks to my last relationship, and certainly since I have been living alone in my current abode, I have taken more pride in the cleanliness and tidyness of my home.
That being said, I was appalled this morning when I was preparing to start my housework and assessed the task at hand. My house was a mess, and I found it hard to believe that I was solely responsible. Considering the amount of time that I have spent at work recently, somebody MUST have been breaking in and messing up the place.
Nonetheless, I gritted my teeth and got cracking.
When I was cleaning the bathroom, I had a small accident. Whilst vigorously cleaning the sink, the chain that the plug was attached to came away from the sink. The small metal triangle that hooks into the sink end came off and was laying precariously in the plughole. As I tried to pick it up, I knocked it down the plughole. Well, it was tiny and wet and I have big fingers.
I decided that I had to fix it there and then, so I popped down to my local hardware store and bought just a plug (no chain) with the same triangle attachment.
I got home, and set about fixing the plug chain. Phase 1 was easy - remove the triangle bit from the plug just purchased. My tool of choice was a pair of secetures (that might not be spelt right - apologies to any gardeners reading this), as that was the only tool available. I soon had the triangle off and on the chain of my old plug. I put the triangle through the bit attached to the sink and tried to close the triangle. This proved disastrous, as the triangle bit pinged off and fell down the plughole.
It was as if the plughole was magnetic. I'm surprised my head doesn't get pulled downwards everytime I brush my teeth by the magnetic pull on my fillings.
So, I had to go back to the hardware shop. This time however, I bought a new chain with an "s" shaped hook attachment, and put it on the plug I had bought on my first attempt. It all fitted together beautifully, with no loss of fixings.
I threw my old plug and chain out. I'm not sentimental.
I got home at 6:45pm tonight, after 13.5 hours at work to find that when I left the house at 4:45am this morning, I didn't bother to lock my door.
Anyone could have walked in, smashed my plates and cups, smeared food all over my kitchen,and left a great big poo on my coffee table, before robbing the place.
Mind you, if they didn't rob me, I might never notice that anyone had been in.
But that is beside the point! I know that I am a trusting person, but leaving my door unlocked for all and sundry to waltz through is taking things a bit far, don't you think?
Tonights and the next couple of days blogs are likely to be like my romantic history - short and boring.
The reason for this is simple: I am, and will be Knackered after a long days work. I was in at 5:50am this morning, and will be starting at 5am tomorrow and possibly Friday. Things are very hectic at the moment, and I need to put the hours in to make my life as comfortable as possible.
I am sorry that I am unable to entertain you with outrageous tales of misfortune, or give you my particular insight into a variety of topics.
I will say this though - after a long time in the romantic wilderness, I may have stumbled upon what looks like a faint path to civilisation.........
Don't you just hate it, when you big yourself up, and then don't achieve what you boasted about?
I had an appointment to give blood today. I am very proud of the fact that I give blood, and make no bones about telling everyone when I am doing it. I had crowed loudly this morning on Facebook, and due to the fact that all my friends are amazing, I got lots of nice comments.
So I'm in Blandford (look it up on Google Maps) waiting to be called. I had to fill in the health questionnaire, and for the first time in ages had to answer "yes" to a couple of questions. Not questions about sexual relations - that car still has no engine. I basically said I had been to the hospital for an examination, and that I was waiting to see a doctor. Both of these related to the ongoing investigations into my suspiciously high pressured eyes, but couldn't affect me giving blood.
Well, that's what I thought. However, when the nurse called my name to run through the questionnaire and then test my blood, it transpired that because I didn't know for definite that I didn't have Glaucoma, they couldn't risk taking my blood.
So I couldn't donate. I was really disappointed.
As I walked back to my car I checked my phone. A reminder had popped up titled "Russell Birthday" for tomorrow. Russell is my Brother in Law, and I had forgotten it was his Birthday tomorrow.
I drove round to Tesco's and perused their selection of cards. I couldn't find one suitable so - knowing that I had to find a card, write it, address it, put a stamp on it AND get it in the postbox before the 4pm last collection - I made an alternative choice.
I cannot say more than that, but I have apologised to my Sister in advance. I will explain all tomorrow.
I was late getting out of work tonight, as yet again I had to wait for a lorry. When I eventually made my way home, I popped into my local Co-op in search of something for tea. Technically I still had the vegetables and gravy/stock from my casserole - but I was a bit tired of that.
Luckily, my luck was in tonight as I found two pork chops reduced to £1.09. They had to be eaten today, and that suited me cos I had them for tea with the veg from my casserole. The purchase of the chops was a spur of the moment thing - as might be my trips to the loo tonight if they are actually past their best.
I'm not looking forward to the rest of this week. I've got a container tomorrow and Friday, and a big delivery Thursday. That means early starts (I'm in at 6am tomorrow) and long days. The thing is, it needs to be done, so although I'm not relishing the idea, I won't shy away from it.
But that is tomorrow - tonight I'm watching Arsenal on Telly.
COME ON YOU ARSENAL!