Thursday, 12 November 2009

Don't laugh.........

This is not in the least bit funny.

We have squirrels in our soffits.

They appear to have moved in lock stock and barrel and from the racket they're making I'm fairly sure they're assembling flat pack furniture.

Initially, a week or so ago, the noises were quite quiet and tentative, so we thought there were mice in the attic.

Subsequently we revised our opinion and upgraded the status of the rodent threat level to that of rat.

However, even a very large, possibly obese rat wearing hobnail boots wouldn't make as much noise as the squirrels running through the soffits. If we stand in the garden we can actually see the little buggers scampering along the guttering then disappearing into the soffit at the corner of the roof.

Whenever one of them jauntily re-emerges onto the gutter, it sits and waves at us.

We think they are able to squeeze through the hole for the water tank overflow pipe and get into the loft. However as there is thick insulation up there, we shouldn't be able to hear the clatter of their paws and claws so clearly.

Squirrels in the loft is a much worse scenario than squirrels in the soffits as they can cause major damage. Aside from my boxes of precious books in the loft, there are also various runs of electric cables and I worry in case a foolhardy squirrel might take it into its head to chew through one. The thought of instant crispy-fried squirrel is bad enough, but the prospect of a fire starting up there is terrifying.

Unfortunately we can't get up to the part of the roof where they're getting in. It's going to need someone to clamber up onto the single storey sloping kitchen roof, then somehow get a ladder up to the roofline. Hopefully, blocking off the hole into the soffit will stop them but we can't find anyone willing (or foolish enough) to do it.

Small Dog has been worse than useless.

Because she can't actually see the squirrels, her hunting instincts seem to be subdued.
She can hear them though, and sits bolt upright and trembling on the bed when they start cavorting through the soffits, (usually round about dawn, aka stupid o'clock) and occasionally emits a low, rumbling growl. However, our efforts to encourage her to break into full-blown staccato barking fall on deaf ears and she remains resolutely (and uncharacteristically) silent.

I've mooted the idea of putting Small Dog up in the loft and letting her have a sniff around. However she abruptly declined. I suspect this is because, being a literary sort of dog, she is keen to avoid the potential fate of Tom Kitten, who was made into a Roly Poly Pudding.



I have assured her that Samuel Whiskers isn't in the loft but she is unconvinced.

I have tried to encourage her instead to take on the 'hero' role of John Joiner, who was undoubtedly a terrier (albeit with his own tool bag).



However, she claims that she is not keen on the notion of hand tools, and equipping her with her stated tool of choice (chainsaw) is only likely to end in mayhem.

So we are between a rock and a hard place. With a scurry of squirrels cavorting through our soffits without so much as a 'by your leave'.

It's going to be a long day........

Wednesday, 11 November 2009

New AIM blog.....!

Launched literally an hour ago, the new AIM blog is now live!

Not only that, you just might possibly recognise who's featured in the very first blog post.....

http://artisansinminiature.blogspot.com/

Fame (and possibly fortune!) at last.........

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

Rant of the day.........

Today started off perfectly well.

I caught up with packaging all outstanding orders, rationalised the stock boxes following the fair, dealt with invoices etc, placed orders for essential supplies and sketched out a plan of campaign for the next 10 days in preparation for KDF.

By late morning we were on our way into town to do a number of errands which should have taken little more than an hour or so.

My good mood wasn't to last long though.

First stop the main Post Office to post the orders. For reasons best known to themselves, the PO recently decided to refurbish the office, which was not in itself a bad thing. However, insanely, they have done away with the two dedicated counters for those wishing to post packages. This means that there is just one (usually monumentally long) queue for everyone, whether they're renewing car tax, asking for Passport Application Forms to be checked, collecting pensions, buying foreign currency, paying bills or posting packages.

Needless to say only 4 of the available 10 cashier points were open, so the wait was long and weary.
I am a seasoned poster of parcels, and my post is always neatly packaged, in strong cardboard boxes, with printed address labels, customs slips correctly completed, and all supporting paperwork present and correct.

However, for some reason, most people seem to think that a paper bag, or black plastic bin liner is sufficient protection when posting a large or bulky item. A few weeks ago I stood in a PO queue while a woman tried to hand over a guitar which was 'wrapped' in a black bin liner (from which the neck of the guitar was sticking out!) with a hand-scrawled scrap of paper to serve as an address label, stuck on with a single piece of sellotape. Naturally the cashier refused to accept it, not on the grounds of the woman's stupidity, but because it posed a health & safety threat to any postal workers who might come into contact with it. He declined to tell her that it would also probably end up in the form of matchsticks, as it had absolutely no protective padding or packaging at all.

Sheesh!

So anyway, finally negotiated the PO queue and successfully dealt with my packages (the entire transaction once I got to a cashier took less than 5 minutes)

On to the bank, where again the queue was epic but only two cashier points were open. By this time, I was losing the will to live but stoically shuffled forward till it was my turn.
Time spent in queue 15 minutes.
Transaction time 30 seconds.

Then waited for PP who had her own bank transaction to perform elsewhere. Watched completely implausible teenage Santa and his chavvy Elf handing out flyers to passers by.

On to opticians to view the frames I like from the weekend newspaper colour supplement. Quickly scanned the display racks and couldn't see them, so I helpfully produced the aforementioned magazine and requested help.

'Helpful' Assistant: Hmmm. No, sorry, we don't stock those.

Me: (Righteously) But it says here in the ad that they're available from you.

HA: Oh right. No we don't stock those.

Me: (Taking a deep breath) Ooookayyyyy. Could you order them for me to try.

HA : Oh yes, no problem. What is the code?

Me: (Slightly taken aback) How should I know? They're your frames.

HA: (Resolutely) Can't do anything without the code.

Me: (Patiently) I checked your website this morning and they're shown clearly. Perhaps if you check your own website you'll be able to find the code.

HA: (Triumphantly) We don't have the internet. Sorry.

ME: (With undisguised incredulity) YOU DON'T HAVE THE INTERNET!!!???

HA: (Slightly abashed) No. If you go round to the library they have internet access there. Get a note of the code, come back and we can order them for you.

Me: (Speechless)

Me: (Regaining the power of speech) So, let me get this straight. You want me to do your job for you?

HA: (Blushingly) Errrmmm. Well. Yeah. If you want those frames.

Exit opticians. Walk just round the corner to the Information Centre which has free internet access. Find website, find code, note code, walk back to opticians, provide code, request phone call to inform me when they arrive in store, provide phone number.

HA: (Chirpily) Ok that's all done for you then Ms Morris.

Me: (Heavy sarcasm dripping from every syllable) Thank you SOOOOOO much. You've been extremely helpful.

Exit opticians(again) and fight the rising urge to kick the barely post-pubescent Santa and his Elf having a crafty cigarette in the doorway opposite. A less believable festive pair it was difficult to imagine and I had already declined their offer of a tatty flyer after earlier witnessing Santa clear his throat loudly then spit on the pavement.

Christmas cheer........I think not.

Monday, 9 November 2009

Making a spectacle of myself......

I need new glasses.

Having been short-sighted all my life, I can barely remember a time when I haven't worn glasses to bring the hazy blur into pin-sharp focus. For many years I alternated contact lenses with glasses, but in recent years, since crossing the line from single vision to varifocal, I have found contact lenses to be impractical. My optician assures me that nowadays there are vastly improved varifocal contact lenses but I am not convinced.

A few weeks ago I had a routine sight test, which confirmed what I already knew. My eyesight has deteriorated further and I need new lenses, which means new frames too. As I wear glasses all day every day...they're the first thing I put on in the morning and the last thing I take off at night so they are subject to a fair amount of wear and tear. Especially as for the past few months I've had to take them off to do any close work. They invariably get lost in the mess on my desk and are subject to all manner of liquid drips and spills, from glue and paint, to white spirit and turps.

So I duly made an appointment at Specsavers, had a very extensive and professional sight test, and emerged blinking, clutching my new prescription to survey the display racks of frames.

Don't get me wrong.

I don't yearn for the days of huge owl-like frames. I had those for several years and looked unnervingly like Deirdre Barlow, complete with poodle perm.
However, as a wearer of varifocals, contemporary frames present a problem as the various fields of vision have to squeezed into a very narrow area, which means that I have to opt for top of the range technologically advanced lenses, which are, of course, frighteningly expensive.

Nevertheless, I browsed the range of frames on offer, enlisting PP's opinion on as many of them as I could until we both lost the will to live and gave up.

Since then I've checked out frames at several other opticians but can't find any I really, really like. And because I wear them day in, day out, I want to have a pair that at least I can live with.

However my need is now pressing, and I'm determined to get organised this week and find something suitable. Fortunately there was an ad in one of the Sunday newspaper colour supplements for frames I quite like in just the right colour so I'm planning a trip to the town tomorrow to try them out and hope my bank balance can cope with the financial hit.

Fair enough..........

Yesterday passed in a bit of a blur, due in no small part to having to get up at 5.30am which really is the middle of the night.

So was Worthing worth it?

I'm pleased to say that it was, thanks in no small part to a very lovely group of miniature club members on a day trip to the fair from the Isle of Wight, who fell in love with several of our key pieces and kept coming back for more. I always feel a special warm glow when keen collectors recognise and appreciate the painstaking attention to detail with which we strive to imbue our miniatures, and they were a really super group of ladies.
So lovely were they that we felt no hesitation in offering to organise a bespoke workshop for them next year, hopefully as part of our 'working holiday mini tours' of various regions of the UK. Having never been to the Isle of Wight before, I'm really looking forward to it!

As Worthing was only my second fair as an exhibitor this year, it was also wonderful to meet and chat to so many of our past students and customers, many of whom I haven't seen for several years. Made me quite feel quite emotional and nostalgic........

I even had the opportunity to wander round the hall and chat with several fellow AIM exhibitors...it was good to put faces to names!

So all in all, an excellent and lucrative day, which made the subsequent overwhelming exhaustion completely worth it.

Thankfully, the fair finished at the sensible and civilised time of 4pm, so we were able to pack down, load the car and depart the venue in daylight...just.
After an uneventful journey we arrived home at 6pm to a rabble-rousing welcome by small dog who jumped up and down like a small furry maniac for a full 15 minutes until we were forced to listen to her breathless monologue on what she'd been up to all day, guarding the house and having to forgo her naps in order to remain alert.

The cherry on the icing on the top of the cake presented itself when I checked emails during the course of the evening, to find a flurry of excellent orders, further boosting our feelings of financial felicitation, and a good end to a hard working but profitable day.

In stark contrast, today will be a day of gentle pottering, leavened with a modicum of displacement activity.

Workwise, I have to sort through all our stock boxes and check what we need to create for Kensington in two weeks time.
Plus the whole of the ground floor of the house looks like it's been ransacked, so some low-key tidying is definitely in order.
Aside from that, I'm taking the day off in order to recharge my batteries.

Not unlike a certain small canine of my acquaintance......


Saturday, 7 November 2009

Organised chaos........

It's 6.00pm and needless to say we're still not completely packed and ready.

This is mainly due to the fact that instead of remaining focused yesterday, I decided to completely redesign the labels which decorate the front of the little boxes for our toy dolls packaging.

What possessed me I have no idea.

This meant re-formatting the image, calculating the size to the nearest nano-millimetre, getting the colours EXACTLY right, doing test prints, printing out the new labels, painstakingly cutting them out, placing them EXACTLY in the correct position on the box lids.........

Needless to say it wasn't a five minute job. It took several hours, which quite possibly could have been better spent. However the boxes do now look absolutely fabulous and I'm very, very pleased with them.

The devil is ALWAYS in the detail.

So, as a result, I've been chasing my tail all day today, and finally, all that remains is going through the extensive checklist to see what we've forgotten.

When that final task is done, I can relax for the rest of the evening, although I must have an early night as we have to get up at stupid o'clock tomorrow morning in order to pack the car (in the dark) and set off in order to get to Worthing for 8 a.m.

Small Dog will blink uncertainly in the pre-dawn gloom and grumpily request that we put the light out before we go. She will then snuggle down cosily in her blanky until her designated 'dog sitter' arrives at a much more civilised hour.

This will be my first fair since February, which I had to do with Gorgeous Daughter as Perfectionist Partner was recovering from her cardiac crisis and wasn't well enough to go.
To think I used to do over 20 fairs a year, plus teach classes/ workshops/courses/club projects! I don't know where I used to find the energy.

So, if any blog readers are visiting the Charmandean Fair tomorrow please do stop and say hello. We could do with all the moral support we can get!

Friday, 6 November 2009

Multi tasking like a maniac..........

Feel like I'm spinning plates while juggling, while riding a unicycle.

On ice.

I really want to get most of the fair prep done and dusted today so that I can take it relatively easy tomorrow. Of course it won't work out like that.

I'll still be working at midnight tonight and tomorrow will be more of the same.

I'm desperately trying to do several things at once........
  • Print copies of our new brochure
  • Replace magenta ink cartridge on new printer
  • Dash out to bank for cash float
  • Set up display on dining room table
  • Hunt for stepped display shelves (subsequently found under bed in the spare room covered with dust and cobwebs)
  • Check lights
  • Hunt for spare bulbs
  • Package remaining items (why are there so many of them?)
  • Price everything
  • Make advertising poster
  • Check fair box to see what we don't have enough of (even though it's way too late to replace stuff anyway)
  • Try in vain to keep track of 'to do' lists
  • Add stuff to 'to do' lists which have already been done, purely to give me the satisfaction of ticking them off
  • Decide on outfit
  • Discover outfit needs to be washed
  • Wash outfit
  • Try really, really hard NOT to fall into panic spiral. It's only a fair after all!
  • Put bottle of something cheering into the fridge for later.
These are only the things I can think of. There are many, many more which I won't remember until I collapse into bed later, just before I fall asleep without making a note of them.

WHY do I choose to put myself through this...............?