Seriously...

Can people not manage to complete a phone number in the right order?

I would like to let the world know that 5.50am is a highly inappropriate time to dial the wrong number. It's also very bad form to let the phone ring for just long enough to make sure the sleeping person is wide awake before hanging up.

What's even worse is withholding your number so that the poor, suddenly awakened victim isn't able to call the number back and shout viciously at the culprit.

Grrrr.
That's all.

Song Of The Week XXXVII

I remember hearing this on Radio 2 in the morning, whilst listening to Sarah Kennedy and just adoring it.

It's just so funny and tongue in cheek, whilst putting a good word out for the big panty ladies out there!

The Barefoot Man - Big Panty Woman:

The Fly

I used one of those self inking rubber stamps today.
I placed it over the item to be stamped and pressed down firmly.
I lifted the stamp to see the finished image.
Oh.
A fly had apparently climbed inside the stamp.
Now it was flat amongst the design.
It wasn't pretty.
I felt quite nauseous to be honest.

Thing is... Why do I suspect this has never happened to anyone else?!

Self Congratulations

I am very proud of myself.
On Saturday I went to the garden centre and bought a few plants to update the dying ones at the front of the cottage. Whilst not essential, these are sensible purchases.
On top of this I managed to resist the purchase of this bag:
Which showed enormous personal strength for I love this bag. I want it still.
Today I saw Harriet, she was looking for something fancy for an upcoming jaunt to the Big Apple and I found these shoes:Do you see that bargain price of just £18? They're bonkers. I love them. I have no idea who Blythe is, but Harriet informs me that there's a Blythe craze. I'm so behind the times. But, I did not purchase these shoes and I have a little ache inside me, for I want them.
It has to be said that I'm a collector, I collect various things. One of those things is Hippos, although to be honest, much less these days, which made it easier to resist this fellow:
However, my willpower failed me when I found this apron. I had thought I would like a new apron and with the picture and saying I just couldn't resist.
1 out of 4 isn't bad. Is it?
The best things in life DO have fleas. Sometimes.

Square Eyes

I like television. I like being entertained by good quality shows. Sometimes I like being entertained by bad quality shows too.
But I am, along with many others, totally addicted to Strictly Come Dancing.
I watched the results show this evening with my heart in my mouth.
Heather and Don in the dance off.
I really liked both of them, but then it came to the judges decision and I disagreed. When the first vote went to Heather I felt bizarrely incensed, I didn't think I had an opinion until that point. Then she got the second and third vote and Don was out of Strictly.
How do you get so involved in a tv programme?
How do you come to care about the outcome? I don't care enough to actually pick up the phone and vote but enough to become incensed when it's not the result I wanted!

I do have Sky tv, I like having all those channels to choose from, but I never cease to be amazed there are hundreds of channels with nothing on. How is that possible?
But then I love drama mostly. Getting totally absorbed in a storyline and feeling my heart start to race as the adrenaline pumps as tension builds.
It's the same at the end of Strictly as they stand there waiting for their names to be called out. Saved for another week of torture, perspiration and choreography.

Rachael and I watched Arlington Road last night, after Strictly had finished of course. I had to make someone watch it so I could discuss it. The twists and turns the movie make just make your mind reel, never entirely sure where it's heading to. Afterwards I still feel left with questions unanswered and I had to discuss them with someone who had seen it too. They're still unanswered so maybe it's time to hit IMDB!

Song Of The Week XXXVI

This week I've been clever. Well, in my mind I've been clever.
Check me out.

So first of all we have this song, which I love. Adore. Etc.
It's Chris Isaak and, correct me if I'm wrong, you can't be a heterosexual female and not go all goosebumpy at the idea of Chris Isaak. Watch this video, look at those eyes and then tell me you're not goosebumpy.

Goosebumpy, is, by the way, my word of the day.

Chris Isaak - Baby Did A Bad Bad Thing:


Secondly we have this video:

Now this features Adam Rayner. On whom I have a crush. I do. I admit it. Look at him, he's just beautiful. The leather doesn't hurt either. But seriously, he may be one of the most beautiful men in the world.
I've been watching him in Mistresses which I'm loving, and he is just superb.

Spot the clever part? It's the same song. It was meant to be.
My crushes on Chris Isaak and Adam Rayner dealt with in one fell swoop.
I thank you.

Oh and on a last note, just so you can further understand my love of Adam Rayner, you must click here seeing as it won't let me embed it.
Mean BBCWorldwide.

Song Of The Week XXXV

This week is a dedication.

On Monday I met a very cute little black and white cat. It came up to me, it rubbed itself around my ankles purring softly.
I bent down, stroking it from head to tail, whilst quietly making those clucking noises one seems to make around animals and small babies.
For about a minute I stroked the cute cat as it purred happily away.
Then suddenly, with no forewarning and like a ninja, the black cat span round onto its hind legs clasped its front paws and claws around my wrist and attached its mouth to my hand.
Little bastard. To you black cat I dedicate this song.

Presidents of the USA - Kitty:

It's All Good

On Friday I got the call to say I was definitely to collect my Dad from Nottingham. Again. We're of high hopes that this is his last stint in hospital for chest pain, that he is finally sorted. And on a myriad of medication.

Friday also heralded the arrival of the oil tanker. Hundreds of litres of the expensive stuff spilled into my tank. As the tanker left, I went to my boiler and the red 'Lockout' light was shining brightly. I pressed the reset button. The boiler went on and off. Again and again I tried. Keeping the fingers on the other hand crossed that it would roar into life, without the need for an engineer and the hideous call out charge. I started to do the I-need-to-pee dance and decided I would have five more presses of the reset button before I commenced the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash to the loo.
First press. It died again.
Second press. It died again.
Third press. It died again.
Fourth press. It roared into life. Whilst completely the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash I pressed a hand to the radiator. Heat was starting to work its way through. I combined the I-desperately-need-to-pee dash with a Hurrah dance. You can't conceive of how attractive it was. Mifford looked as though she wanted to join in. Possibly.
But. I have heating! It's warm. It's toasty.

That afternoon I rang a man.
"Hello"
"I'm looking for a chimney sweep."
"Are you now?"
"Well I think I am."
"You think you are?"
"Well I lit a fire and instead of the smoke going up the chimney it filled my entire downstairs with a vintage London smog. That can't be good? Right?"
"I bet you've got Jackdaws in your chimney."

Oh good. What worries me is not that they're living there. It's that they might be dead there. I can't even bring myself to look up there in case that's the exact moment the dead thing drops out, because in my world that's just the way things happen. I hope he doesn't charge extra when he discovers that Mifford used to pee in the fireplace. I know. She's nuts. It's why I want a fire. A singed backside will put a stop to that little escapade.

Well, it's almost all good. I should like to tell you about my right arm. It's the one they shot electricity down in an attempt to establish why it hurts. Anyway. It hurts these past few days. Possibly exacerbated by the cold which makes the arthritis in that hand get aggravated. On top of this I managed to swipe my little finger across the serrated blade on the sellotape dispenser. Twice. That smarted. I also have a cut on the back of my hand, I have no idea how it got there. Nor the large bruise that's immediately to the right of the cut. My right arm is in the wars. My left arm? Right as rain.

I cooked last night. Radiatori in a Pumpkin Sauce. I must add it to What's Cooking because it was oh so fine. Delicious. I'm going downstairs soon to reheat the little that's left and wish I had piles of it. Rachael cleaned her plate too so I think she enjoyed it too.

Another good thing. I got new jeans. They fit great in the shop, then after a couple of hours wearing they were loose. In that I didn't need to undo them to remove them, which wasn't so great, but with a belt, they're great again. I love my new jeans. I would like some black ballet pumps. I don't know why, I just feel I need some.

Oh! You know what else is good? I have four avocados sitting in my fruit bowl. I love avocado. See how easy I am to please!