There has been a general outpouring of disbelief that we should even entertain the idea of going camping in December/January.
However, having invested a sizeable amount of hard-earned cash in a campervan, it makes complete sense to use it all year round, rather than just May -September, and it is actually really good fun camping in winter.
Yes really.
Our van, though small, is perfectly formed and has proper central heating, a full kitchen with oven, hob, fridge, and drinks cabinet. It has a compact shower room with shower, WC and washbasin. We can seat 6 adults in comfort for a full 4 course meal. Not for us the normal camping fare of beans on toast or spam fritters. We cook proper dinners using fresh ingredients, complete with chilled wines, romantic candles, twinkly lights, music, conversation, general hilarity and at the end of the evening, when our fellow campers have staggered back to their vans, we fall asleep looking at the stars though the Heki rooflight.
Winter campers are a breed apart. There is real sense of camaraderie and fellow feeling. The campsite we're going to is fully booked over the holiday period and EVERYONE will be fully entering into the spirit of the season.
I cannot understand why people spend thousands of pounds on state of the art caravans/motorhomes then winterise and store them away from the end of October when the seasonal campsites close, through to Easter when they all open again.
OK, so you can't sit outside in the winter, and BBQs, although not impossible, somewhat lose their lustre in sub-freezing temperatures. The daylight hours are short but that just leaves more time to cosy up inside and while away the evening hours talking, playing games, eating/drinking and generally having fun, freed from the tyranny of the internet and TV.
Actually, we do have a TV in the van, but it is monochrome, has a 4" screen and only works properly when one of us is standing on one leg with our head out of the Heki at an angle of 45 degrees precisely.
So we don't use it.
Similarly, we don't close all our blinds as soon as the sun sets. One of the joys of camping is doing the evening dog walk around the site, which is an opportunity to peer into other people's vans and extemporise their life stories.
There's the young family who have just bought their first caravan. The two kids are leaping from one bunk bed to the other, totally hyper, while their harassed mum struggles to put a meal on the table from a kitchen which consists of a three-ring hob and dad is outside under the van with a torch trying to work out why the bathroom sink isn't draining properly.
There's the retired couple who love caravanning but have lost the knack of communicating. He sits glued to the football match on the flat screen TV while wifey, having cooked dinner and done the washing up, knocks back the rest of the bottle of generic Vin Rouge and tries to concentrate on her book.
There's the group of friends, all sat round the table, eating, chatting, laughing.........ah,wait.... hang on a minute. That's us.
Seriously though, most winter campers are sociable animals. Dog walkers (who are generally quite sociable anyway) will stop to pass the time of day, or night. A stroll around the campsite will almost never be complete without a chat with several other campers en route. And why do the washing up in your van when you can put all the dirty dishes in a bucket and trot over to the communal washing up area where the seasonal fun continues en masse. If you haven't washed up under the stars with snow falling softly all around then you simply haven't lived.
Similarly, a trip to fill up the aquaroll, or empty the water waste or chemical toilet can bring you into contact with all sorts of interesting people. Actually, to be honest, not many women ever empty the chemical toilet so the few intrepid women who do achieve mythical status.
*ahem*
So I am anticipating a few days of fun and frolics. We will spend far more time in the great outdoors than we would otherwise. We will eat/drink and talk/laugh ourselves hoarse.
I wish everyone a very, very Happy New Year, and let's all hope that 2010 is a better year all round.
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
Monday, 28 December 2009
Winter displacement activity......
I've suddenly remembered that the Winter Olympics will be held in 2010.
A quick google has revealed that they will take place in and around Vancouver, which as we are 8 hours ahead will make watching most live events a nocturnal exercise.
No matter.
I like watching winter sports so I'm wondering if I can set up a portable TV in the workroom to keep an eye on while I work as there will no doubt be wall-to-wall coverage during the day.
They run from 13 through to 28 February, so in conjunction with my SAD lamp I now have the perfect antidote to the winter blues.
Edit: just been browsing the alpine skiing portion of the website and THIS rather puts our paltry couple of inches of snow last week into perspective.......
A quick google has revealed that they will take place in and around Vancouver, which as we are 8 hours ahead will make watching most live events a nocturnal exercise.
No matter.
I like watching winter sports so I'm wondering if I can set up a portable TV in the workroom to keep an eye on while I work as there will no doubt be wall-to-wall coverage during the day.
They run from 13 through to 28 February, so in conjunction with my SAD lamp I now have the perfect antidote to the winter blues.
Edit: just been browsing the alpine skiing portion of the website and THIS rather puts our paltry couple of inches of snow last week into perspective.......
Sunday, 27 December 2009
Twixmas limbo............
Right.
That's it.
I've had enough of Christmas now and am keen to move on to pastures new.
The week between Christmas and New Year is traditionally the one week in the year when I get to work on my own miniature projects unhindered but this year is different primarily as we are going camping with friends for New Year.
Yes.
Camping.
I've just checked the forecast and it will apparently, after the windchill factor is taken into account, feel like -9 degrees.
So a bit on the nippy side.
Before we go we will have to get some red-bottled calor gas which doesn't freeze. We learnt the hard way a few years ago, when camping in sub-zero temperatures and our blue-bottled gas froze solid, and so we had no heating. We won't be making THAT mistake again.
No by no nonny no.
Small Dog, who is always up for a spot of camping, has already started on her packing, which consists of all of her fleecy jumpers, her coat and her all-in-one pyjamas. Not to mention BOTH of her fleecy blankys and her little hot water bottle.
I am lobbying to take a spare duvet and will be scouring the sales tomorrow for some thermal pyjamas and bed socks.
However, despite the prospect of freezing to death, I am sure that we will have a good time. The campsite is fully booked, which means that there will be dozens of little impromptu parties breaking out in caravans and motorhomes all over the place, and we will even be hosting a few ourselves. Our little campervan will be decked out with twinkly, sparkling lights and made as warm, cosy and welcoming as possible.
As a boney fido Scot I will of course, be observing the traditional Hogmanay rituals. We will be taking a piece of coal, not to mention a bottle of excellent single malt and will be going 'first footing' in the wee small hours of New Year's Day.
All in all, the whole endeavour sounds like an excellent antidote to Twixmas limbo..........
That's it.
I've had enough of Christmas now and am keen to move on to pastures new.
The week between Christmas and New Year is traditionally the one week in the year when I get to work on my own miniature projects unhindered but this year is different primarily as we are going camping with friends for New Year.
Yes.
Camping.
I've just checked the forecast and it will apparently, after the windchill factor is taken into account, feel like -9 degrees.
So a bit on the nippy side.
Before we go we will have to get some red-bottled calor gas which doesn't freeze. We learnt the hard way a few years ago, when camping in sub-zero temperatures and our blue-bottled gas froze solid, and so we had no heating. We won't be making THAT mistake again.
No by no nonny no.
Small Dog, who is always up for a spot of camping, has already started on her packing, which consists of all of her fleecy jumpers, her coat and her all-in-one pyjamas. Not to mention BOTH of her fleecy blankys and her little hot water bottle.
I am lobbying to take a spare duvet and will be scouring the sales tomorrow for some thermal pyjamas and bed socks.
However, despite the prospect of freezing to death, I am sure that we will have a good time. The campsite is fully booked, which means that there will be dozens of little impromptu parties breaking out in caravans and motorhomes all over the place, and we will even be hosting a few ourselves. Our little campervan will be decked out with twinkly, sparkling lights and made as warm, cosy and welcoming as possible.
As a boney fido Scot I will of course, be observing the traditional Hogmanay rituals. We will be taking a piece of coal, not to mention a bottle of excellent single malt and will be going 'first footing' in the wee small hours of New Year's Day.
All in all, the whole endeavour sounds like an excellent antidote to Twixmas limbo..........
Saturday, 26 December 2009
Boxing Day sloth..........
The last of the family left this morning.
So that's another Christmas survived, although it was a close run thing at various points.
Actually the whole thing has been a bit of a blur, and that blur had nothing to do with over-indulgence in any form.
Last week Prodigal Son announced that instead of coming home for Christmas he was going to take a job at a ski resort in France for 4 months and would be leaving on Christmas Eve.
However, the polar weather conditions at the beginning of this week resulted in airports being closed and an enormous backlog of delayed and cancelled flights. This in turn meant that he couldn't get a flight till today and was therefore able to get home for a few days over Christmas.
So far so good.
However, the ad hoc decision to go and work abroad for the ski season brought with it the necessity to get fully kitted out, plus organise all travel arrangements etc in the short, stressful period of just three days before Christmas, which in themselves are normally chock-a-block with 'stuff to do' pushed already high stress levels through the roof for all concerned.
Not to mention losing his wallet containing all his cash/Euros/bank cards etc between paying the driver then getting out of a taxi in the early hours of Christmas morning, and walking the short distance from the kerb to the front door.
All searches proved fruitless so the most likely scenario is that the wallet was dropped inside the taxi, and by the time its loss was realised not long afterwards and reported, driver had already picked up another fare, who most likely thought Christmas had come early.
Great start to Christmas Day but we all managed to successfully avoid recriminations and other family members rallied round to rummage down the back of their sofas and come up with enough Euros to keep Prodigal Son solvent for at least the first day or two in France. Of course with no cash cards he had no access to cash until new cards arrive here, probably sometime in the New Year, and are then forwarded to him. Luckily his job includes bed and board so at least he won't starve.
Then there was the problem of getting to Gatwick Airport in the early hours of Boxing Day morning for a flight at 6.30 am. Obviously public transport was out of the question because there wasn't any.
Fortunately, Artistic Daughter, who had already selflessly travelled up to London to collect her brother on Tuesday, was still well enough disposed toward him to offer to take him to the airport, thereby volunteering herself for no alcohol on Christmas Day and no sleep last night.
At 2.00 am this morning, Prodigal Son was still preparing for the trip, and after we waved him off at 2.30 am we fell into bed exhausted. Even Small Dog was unusually sleepy, although that may have been due to the hot buttered rum she surreptitiously snaffled from my glass when I wasn't looking.
We have heard that Prodigal Son has arrived safely in Grenoble and was en route to the ski resort where the temperature today is not expected to rise above -14 and there is a predicted snowfall of 10 cm tonight. He will have had no sleep either and will probably be expected to start work tonight.
And so today, with the departure of Gorgeous Daughter, we are alone at last, I have planned a day of indulgent sloth, after the frenetic activity of the past week. Small Dog has just wandered into the sitting room and settled down beside me after making a cosy nest in her fleecy blanky.
Sounds like a plan........
So that's another Christmas survived, although it was a close run thing at various points.
Actually the whole thing has been a bit of a blur, and that blur had nothing to do with over-indulgence in any form.
Last week Prodigal Son announced that instead of coming home for Christmas he was going to take a job at a ski resort in France for 4 months and would be leaving on Christmas Eve.
However, the polar weather conditions at the beginning of this week resulted in airports being closed and an enormous backlog of delayed and cancelled flights. This in turn meant that he couldn't get a flight till today and was therefore able to get home for a few days over Christmas.
So far so good.
However, the ad hoc decision to go and work abroad for the ski season brought with it the necessity to get fully kitted out, plus organise all travel arrangements etc in the short, stressful period of just three days before Christmas, which in themselves are normally chock-a-block with 'stuff to do' pushed already high stress levels through the roof for all concerned.
Not to mention losing his wallet containing all his cash/Euros/bank cards etc between paying the driver then getting out of a taxi in the early hours of Christmas morning, and walking the short distance from the kerb to the front door.
All searches proved fruitless so the most likely scenario is that the wallet was dropped inside the taxi, and by the time its loss was realised not long afterwards and reported, driver had already picked up another fare, who most likely thought Christmas had come early.
Great start to Christmas Day but we all managed to successfully avoid recriminations and other family members rallied round to rummage down the back of their sofas and come up with enough Euros to keep Prodigal Son solvent for at least the first day or two in France. Of course with no cash cards he had no access to cash until new cards arrive here, probably sometime in the New Year, and are then forwarded to him. Luckily his job includes bed and board so at least he won't starve.
Then there was the problem of getting to Gatwick Airport in the early hours of Boxing Day morning for a flight at 6.30 am. Obviously public transport was out of the question because there wasn't any.
Fortunately, Artistic Daughter, who had already selflessly travelled up to London to collect her brother on Tuesday, was still well enough disposed toward him to offer to take him to the airport, thereby volunteering herself for no alcohol on Christmas Day and no sleep last night.
At 2.00 am this morning, Prodigal Son was still preparing for the trip, and after we waved him off at 2.30 am we fell into bed exhausted. Even Small Dog was unusually sleepy, although that may have been due to the hot buttered rum she surreptitiously snaffled from my glass when I wasn't looking.
We have heard that Prodigal Son has arrived safely in Grenoble and was en route to the ski resort where the temperature today is not expected to rise above -14 and there is a predicted snowfall of 10 cm tonight. He will have had no sleep either and will probably be expected to start work tonight.
And so today, with the departure of Gorgeous Daughter, we are alone at last, I have planned a day of indulgent sloth, after the frenetic activity of the past week. Small Dog has just wandered into the sitting room and settled down beside me after making a cosy nest in her fleecy blanky.
Sounds like a plan........
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
The Real Good Life.....
I'm just listening to a radio programme where people are panicking about not having any 'Christmas'.
D'you remember that 'Good Life' Christmas special where Margo had ordered 'Christmas' to be delivered and it all went base over apex.
Well that scenario is apparently being played out for real across swathes of the country, as people who have ordered their entire Christmas shop online, have seen their delivery slots come and go with no delivery and the backlog means that perhaps thousands of people will have no Christmas.
How awful.
No, really.
Don't snigger.
D'you remember that 'Good Life' Christmas special where Margo had ordered 'Christmas' to be delivered and it all went base over apex.
Well that scenario is apparently being played out for real across swathes of the country, as people who have ordered their entire Christmas shop online, have seen their delivery slots come and go with no delivery and the backlog means that perhaps thousands of people will have no Christmas.
How awful.
No, really.
Don't snigger.
Monday, 21 December 2009
Sheer purgatory...........
We're finally back home following a marathon trip into Hastings during which icy rain, driven horizontal by a cutting north-easterly wind, successfully managed to flush away most of the ice and snow, save for a few renegade pockets up our road.
As predicted, Hastings town centre resembled nothing so much as all of Dante's 9 levels of hell rolled into one, which is the closest to classical allusion the place is ever likely to get.
Every shop was packed to capacity, labyrinthine queues snaked round every aisle, and a full contingent of lethal baby buggies waited round each corner to knee-cap the unwary.
On our peregrinations I noted that the most salubrious level of hell was most definitely Debenhams, where there reigned an air of quiet desperation amongst the better-heeled customers, which the store tends to attract.
Predictably, the lowest level of hell was reserved for Poundland, where the great unwashed jostled cheek by unshaven jowl to snap up the bounteous wares on sale. I lasted just 10 seconds before I had to beat a hasty retreat in order to avoid being swallowed up and lost forever in the milling, heaving mob.
After a few hours we had more or less lost the will to live so headed back to the car where we heaved a mutual sigh of relief at being safely out of the madness.
However, an even deeper, hitherto uncharted region of hell awaited us at our next stop.
Deeper than all the Stygian depths of Hades and containing tortures so diabolical that people were falling horror-stricken by the wayside even on the approaches.
The Tesco Extra Superstore.
We should have turned back right at the outset, when we registered that the enormous car park was full almost to capacity.
We should have turned back when the keening howls and screams of dozens of hyperactive children reached our ears.
We should have turned back when the lift doors opened to reveal a scene not unlike the chariot race from Ben-Hur.
However we girded our loins, stiffened our resolve, and set off into the maelstrom, heedless of the dangers which awaited us.
It seemed as if the entire population of Hastings and St. Leonards was of one (probably unhinged) mind, and alerted to the possibility of further inclement weather hampering their conspicuous consumption, decided to do their big Christmas food shop today at 3.30pm.
We had to queue 15 minutes purely to glimpse the parsnips, and the fresh sprouts were housed in a mythical Shangri-La section, accessible only to those who had achieved nirvana. Mere mortals could only sigh and pass on.
However, the Armageddon Scenario was being played out for real in the fresh turkey aisle, at which a free-for-all was in progress over the remaining carcases which didn't need funding from the International Monetary Fund to make them affordable.
I mean. £35 for a turkey!
Has the world gone mad?!
We raised our eyes heavenwards and smiled our secret smiles, secure in the knowledge that a frozen bird at a fraction of the price of fresh was our achievable aim.
I'll gloss over the unseemly fracas we encountered at the stuffing and cranberry sauce promotional area.
Similarly I won't give the oxygen of publicity to the scuffles which broke out periodically by the mince pies display.
Not to mention the wailing and gnashing of teeth over the fact that the only salt in the whole store was hugely overpriced Maldon Sea Salt. So deep was the general despair that there was a member of staff permanently stationed by the empty shelves to explain that the stock situation was due to profligate panic buying by frail old ladies attempting to stave off the potential for broken hips by slipping on icy paths.
Undaunted, we ploughed on, tenaciously sticking to our list, unswayed even by BOGOF Pringles and Half Price silverskin pickled onions.
Then we came to an aisle eerily deserted and silent, as if it existed in a temporal dimension outside of the frenzy of activity elsewhere.
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
They had sold out of frozen turkeys.
SOLD OUT OF FROZEN TURKEYS!!!
Our anguished cries rent the air and our shuddering sobs eventually alerted a member of staff to our distress.
"HO yus" he said. "We 'ad loads but they're all sold aht. Youse should've got one wen we 'ad 'em. Nah, dunno if we're gettin' em back in."
Broken and defeated we headed back to the fresh turkey aisle, where a few plucky survivors were tending their wounds, and surveyed the shelves. Aside from the possibly gold-plated birds at £35 upwards, only a few sorry specimens remained.
Some with only one leg. One with two necks. These were probably the results of genetic engineering experiments gone wrong but needs must, and we sorted through the flaccid bags, our spirits sinking ever deeper.
We did eventually manage to find one which bore an approximate physical resemblance to a turkey and shuffled away from the carnage to join one of the 36 queues at the checkouts, where all the staff were wearing comedy Christmas hats, or reindeer deely boppers in an effort to jolly shoppers out of their catatonic trances.
It didn't work.
So after forking out the equivalent of the Gross National Project of a small third-world country we are now back home safely.
Poorer and wiser.
The fridge is straining at the seams and we have had to set up an overflow coolbox outside the back door, which is hopefully cat and fox proof. Although I suspect no self-respecting fox would risk all for several boxes of fresh vegetables and a few cartons of clementine juice.
Just why this mayhem transpires year after year amazes me. Everyone appears to be laying in for a siege. The shops will only be closed for 24 hours on Christmas Day, so the chances of anyone actually starving to death within that time, especially in Hastings, is remote.
I need a drink and a lie-down. Not necessarily in that order......
As predicted, Hastings town centre resembled nothing so much as all of Dante's 9 levels of hell rolled into one, which is the closest to classical allusion the place is ever likely to get.
Every shop was packed to capacity, labyrinthine queues snaked round every aisle, and a full contingent of lethal baby buggies waited round each corner to knee-cap the unwary.
On our peregrinations I noted that the most salubrious level of hell was most definitely Debenhams, where there reigned an air of quiet desperation amongst the better-heeled customers, which the store tends to attract.
Predictably, the lowest level of hell was reserved for Poundland, where the great unwashed jostled cheek by unshaven jowl to snap up the bounteous wares on sale. I lasted just 10 seconds before I had to beat a hasty retreat in order to avoid being swallowed up and lost forever in the milling, heaving mob.
After a few hours we had more or less lost the will to live so headed back to the car where we heaved a mutual sigh of relief at being safely out of the madness.
However, an even deeper, hitherto uncharted region of hell awaited us at our next stop.
Deeper than all the Stygian depths of Hades and containing tortures so diabolical that people were falling horror-stricken by the wayside even on the approaches.
The Tesco Extra Superstore.
We should have turned back right at the outset, when we registered that the enormous car park was full almost to capacity.
We should have turned back when the keening howls and screams of dozens of hyperactive children reached our ears.
We should have turned back when the lift doors opened to reveal a scene not unlike the chariot race from Ben-Hur.
However we girded our loins, stiffened our resolve, and set off into the maelstrom, heedless of the dangers which awaited us.
It seemed as if the entire population of Hastings and St. Leonards was of one (probably unhinged) mind, and alerted to the possibility of further inclement weather hampering their conspicuous consumption, decided to do their big Christmas food shop today at 3.30pm.
We had to queue 15 minutes purely to glimpse the parsnips, and the fresh sprouts were housed in a mythical Shangri-La section, accessible only to those who had achieved nirvana. Mere mortals could only sigh and pass on.
However, the Armageddon Scenario was being played out for real in the fresh turkey aisle, at which a free-for-all was in progress over the remaining carcases which didn't need funding from the International Monetary Fund to make them affordable.
I mean. £35 for a turkey!
Has the world gone mad?!
We raised our eyes heavenwards and smiled our secret smiles, secure in the knowledge that a frozen bird at a fraction of the price of fresh was our achievable aim.
I'll gloss over the unseemly fracas we encountered at the stuffing and cranberry sauce promotional area.
Similarly I won't give the oxygen of publicity to the scuffles which broke out periodically by the mince pies display.
Not to mention the wailing and gnashing of teeth over the fact that the only salt in the whole store was hugely overpriced Maldon Sea Salt. So deep was the general despair that there was a member of staff permanently stationed by the empty shelves to explain that the stock situation was due to profligate panic buying by frail old ladies attempting to stave off the potential for broken hips by slipping on icy paths.
Undaunted, we ploughed on, tenaciously sticking to our list, unswayed even by BOGOF Pringles and Half Price silverskin pickled onions.
Then we came to an aisle eerily deserted and silent, as if it existed in a temporal dimension outside of the frenzy of activity elsewhere.
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
They had sold out of frozen turkeys.
SOLD OUT OF FROZEN TURKEYS!!!
Our anguished cries rent the air and our shuddering sobs eventually alerted a member of staff to our distress.
"HO yus" he said. "We 'ad loads but they're all sold aht. Youse should've got one wen we 'ad 'em. Nah, dunno if we're gettin' em back in."
Broken and defeated we headed back to the fresh turkey aisle, where a few plucky survivors were tending their wounds, and surveyed the shelves. Aside from the possibly gold-plated birds at £35 upwards, only a few sorry specimens remained.
Some with only one leg. One with two necks. These were probably the results of genetic engineering experiments gone wrong but needs must, and we sorted through the flaccid bags, our spirits sinking ever deeper.
We did eventually manage to find one which bore an approximate physical resemblance to a turkey and shuffled away from the carnage to join one of the 36 queues at the checkouts, where all the staff were wearing comedy Christmas hats, or reindeer deely boppers in an effort to jolly shoppers out of their catatonic trances.
It didn't work.
So after forking out the equivalent of the Gross National Project of a small third-world country we are now back home safely.
Poorer and wiser.
The fridge is straining at the seams and we have had to set up an overflow coolbox outside the back door, which is hopefully cat and fox proof. Although I suspect no self-respecting fox would risk all for several boxes of fresh vegetables and a few cartons of clementine juice.
Just why this mayhem transpires year after year amazes me. Everyone appears to be laying in for a siege. The shops will only be closed for 24 hours on Christmas Day, so the chances of anyone actually starving to death within that time, especially in Hastings, is remote.
I need a drink and a lie-down. Not necessarily in that order......
Snowed in..........
Another light dusting of snow overnight has rendered our road practically impassible. Even the monster 4x4s who live at the top of the hill have been crawling gingerly up and down.
Mostly down.
Our road is very steep, and a few areas never get direct sunlight during the winter months, so a combination of ice and snow can quickly make it into ski run.
However, we have important shopping to do, including our Christmas food shop, so we really need to get out if at all possible.
We may be gone for some time.........
Mostly down.
Our road is very steep, and a few areas never get direct sunlight during the winter months, so a combination of ice and snow can quickly make it into ski run.
However, we have important shopping to do, including our Christmas food shop, so we really need to get out if at all possible.
We may be gone for some time.........
Sunday, 20 December 2009
What did I just say..........?
Yes.
Plans have been changed yet again.
Prodigal Son is not now coming for Christmas after all but may put in an impromptu visit 'sometime this week'.
Apparently.
In other news, our road is like a skating rink. On our way home today the car in front of us was really struggling to get up the hill, slipping and sliding all over the place. People had come out of their houses to help and advise.
Primarily the advice seemed to consist of "don't you dare hit my *car/van!" (*delete as appropriate)
Eventually, when three of us were stuck partway up the hill and couldn't get any traction at all, someone from the top of the hill came down in his 4-wheel drive Range Rover Discovery with a bag of sand, which he kindly scattered all over the black ice. By this point, the car in front of us had chickened out and managed to reverse into a side road, leaving us to act as reconnaissance guinea pigs on the newly sanded ice.
Thankfully we managed to reach the top safely, and tucked our car neatly off the road to avoid it acting as a 'brake' to cars skidding down.
Tomorrow, IF we can get down the road again, we intend to go and get a bag of sand to keep in the car for emergencies. As well as salt for our drive, paths and outside steps, all of which are treacherous in the extreme.
But for now I'm going to go and snuggle up cosily with Small Dog in front of the TV.
Sounds like a plan...
Plans have been changed yet again.
Prodigal Son is not now coming for Christmas after all but may put in an impromptu visit 'sometime this week'.
Apparently.
In other news, our road is like a skating rink. On our way home today the car in front of us was really struggling to get up the hill, slipping and sliding all over the place. People had come out of their houses to help and advise.
Primarily the advice seemed to consist of "don't you dare hit my *car/van!" (*delete as appropriate)
Eventually, when three of us were stuck partway up the hill and couldn't get any traction at all, someone from the top of the hill came down in his 4-wheel drive Range Rover Discovery with a bag of sand, which he kindly scattered all over the black ice. By this point, the car in front of us had chickened out and managed to reverse into a side road, leaving us to act as reconnaissance guinea pigs on the newly sanded ice.
Thankfully we managed to reach the top safely, and tucked our car neatly off the road to avoid it acting as a 'brake' to cars skidding down.
Tomorrow, IF we can get down the road again, we intend to go and get a bag of sand to keep in the car for emergencies. As well as salt for our drive, paths and outside steps, all of which are treacherous in the extreme.
But for now I'm going to go and snuggle up cosily with Small Dog in front of the TV.
Sounds like a plan...
Saturday, 19 December 2009
6 days and counting.........
Families.
Donchya just love 'em?
Or not.
As the case may be.
Let me take you back a few weeks, when PP and I were trying to ascertain from various offspring what constituted their plans for the festive period.
Specifically Christmas Day.
"Ho Yus". (they all said, bar one^)
"We will deffo be with yous for Chrimbo".
Or words to that effect.
Since then plans have apparently become somewhat 'fluid'.
At various points we have been anticipating the following numbers for catering/sleeping purposes:
With mixed results.
At this rate, some of them might end up out in the campervan.
And good luck to them.
Gorgeous Daughter, who was intending to travel down from Essex to Mordor* today is snowed in. Not to mention being embroiled in moving home again..... the fifth time this year.
Prodigal Son has changed his plans umpteem times over the past few weeks and should be arriving tomorrow but when he will actually appear is anybody's guess.
Artistic Daughter and her partner were going to be with us on Christmas Day, but instead will be going to her partner's father's house. However they will be with us on Christmas Eve and staying over.
Probably.
I am sure it will all turn out alright in the end with minimal blood loss.
*Mordor is the 'affectionate' term I coined for her father's house. I have no idea if he reads this blog, but if he does, what happened to the regular updates I was supposed to get about ^Recalcitrant Son......?
Is he still alive?
As you all can see, I am fully entering into the seasonal spirit of goodwill to all men.
*memo to self* - late night blogs after a few glasses of wine are perhaps.....inadvisable.
Donchya just love 'em?
Or not.
As the case may be.
Let me take you back a few weeks, when PP and I were trying to ascertain from various offspring what constituted their plans for the festive period.
Specifically Christmas Day.
"Ho Yus". (they all said, bar one^)
"We will deffo be with yous for Chrimbo".
Or words to that effect.
Since then plans have apparently become somewhat 'fluid'.
At various points we have been anticipating the following numbers for catering/sleeping purposes:
- Christmas Eve 6
- Christmas Day 7
- Christmas Eve 3
- Christmas Day 4
- Christmas Eve 4
- Christmas Day 3
With mixed results.
At this rate, some of them might end up out in the campervan.
And good luck to them.
Gorgeous Daughter, who was intending to travel down from Essex to Mordor* today is snowed in. Not to mention being embroiled in moving home again..... the fifth time this year.
Prodigal Son has changed his plans umpteem times over the past few weeks and should be arriving tomorrow but when he will actually appear is anybody's guess.
Artistic Daughter and her partner were going to be with us on Christmas Day, but instead will be going to her partner's father's house. However they will be with us on Christmas Eve and staying over.
Probably.
I am sure it will all turn out alright in the end with minimal blood loss.
*Mordor is the 'affectionate' term I coined for her father's house. I have no idea if he reads this blog, but if he does, what happened to the regular updates I was supposed to get about ^Recalcitrant Son......?
Is he still alive?
As you all can see, I am fully entering into the seasonal spirit of goodwill to all men.
*memo to self* - late night blogs after a few glasses of wine are perhaps.....inadvisable.
Friday, 18 December 2009
The Big Freeze.........
Woke this morning to an inch or so of snow and not a frozen wasteland resembling the Siberian Steppes we were warned to expect. Roads were completely clear so we had no problem at all getting back home which was mildly disappointing.
All remaining orders have subsequently been packaged and despatched and I'm now feeling too tired to do anything very much, although there are still two bedrooms to be cleaned and beds made up. Think I'll leave that till tomorrow when I'll hopefully feel a bit more energetic.
More snow forecast for later today though so we need to root around in the shed to dig out the de-icer/car windscreen shield/icy scrapy things. Also need to salt the front drive which was like a skating rink when we got home this morning. Ditto back steps which are a broken hip waiting to happen.
Small Dog was unimpressed by the snow as she suffers from cold paws. V. amusing watching her trying to walk without letting any of her paws come in contact with the ground. She is now snuggled up in her basket catching up on her sleeps and I just might join her shortly.
On the sofa though. NOT in her basket.
All remaining orders have subsequently been packaged and despatched and I'm now feeling too tired to do anything very much, although there are still two bedrooms to be cleaned and beds made up. Think I'll leave that till tomorrow when I'll hopefully feel a bit more energetic.
More snow forecast for later today though so we need to root around in the shed to dig out the de-icer/car windscreen shield/icy scrapy things. Also need to salt the front drive which was like a skating rink when we got home this morning. Ditto back steps which are a broken hip waiting to happen.
Small Dog was unimpressed by the snow as she suffers from cold paws. V. amusing watching her trying to walk without letting any of her paws come in contact with the ground. She is now snuggled up in her basket catching up on her sleeps and I just might join her shortly.
On the sofa though. NOT in her basket.
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Pre-Christmas cheer........
We're off later to spend the evening with a group of friends who live near Rye, for a spot of pre-Christmas cheer in the form of a delicious hog roast, a modicum of wine, some silly party games and much general hilarity.
Thankfully we're staying overnight, which is probably just as well, as we have heavy snow forecast for later this evening. In fact, if it's really bad, we might not be able to get back home tomorrow.
Woohoo!!
Thankfully we're staying overnight, which is probably just as well, as we have heavy snow forecast for later this evening. In fact, if it's really bad, we might not be able to get back home tomorrow.
Woohoo!!
Small Dog blues...........
Small Dog is not a happy bunny.
Over recent days, we have become increasingly concerned about an intermittent limp affecting one of her back legs.
A visit to the vet yesterday confirmed that she does indeed have a luxating patella for which we are trying a conservative treatment of rest (HA!) and anti-inflammatory medicine. She's not allowed to jump, run around, go upstairs or in any way exert the knee joint.
This, of course, is much easier said than done.
Voluntary inactivity is one thing, but enforced inactivity does not sit well with Small Dog so we don't hold out much hope for the resting cure.
The alternative is surgery, which sits even less well with Small Dog. We're not keen on that option either, especially as last time she underwent surgery we had to buy a new kitchen.
Oh, it's a long story.......if you pester me to tell I might relent.
Over recent days, we have become increasingly concerned about an intermittent limp affecting one of her back legs.
A visit to the vet yesterday confirmed that she does indeed have a luxating patella for which we are trying a conservative treatment of rest (HA!) and anti-inflammatory medicine. She's not allowed to jump, run around, go upstairs or in any way exert the knee joint.
This, of course, is much easier said than done.
Voluntary inactivity is one thing, but enforced inactivity does not sit well with Small Dog so we don't hold out much hope for the resting cure.
The alternative is surgery, which sits even less well with Small Dog. We're not keen on that option either, especially as last time she underwent surgery we had to buy a new kitchen.
Oh, it's a long story.......if you pester me to tell I might relent.
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
10 days and counting........
Depending on how you look at it, 10 days is either a very long time or no time at all.
In view of the fact that we have family descending 'en masse' on Christmas Eve, I've decided to bite the bullet and try to get two of our spare rooms ready for guests. This is easier said than done, because during the course of the year, all the 'stuff' we can't decide what to do with, goes into one room or the other.
Fortunately we do have one permanently 'ready' guest room but over the festive period we will have to press the other two into service which means that they will have be tackled.
This is what they looked like.....
Yes.
Yes I know.
Even I am shocked and I live here.
In our defence, they probably look worse than they actually are. I spent an hour in the smallest bedroom today and have succeeded in clearing most of the 'stuff' out. Of course, as a consequence, there is now a pile of clothes and several boxes of departed offspring's belongings in two of the previously tidy rooms.
However, the pile of clothes is destined for the charity shop tomorrow, and later this week departed offspring will be commandeered to decide what of their stuff is to be kept and what is to be recycled/binned. At the same time they will be cajoled into boxing up stuff to be kept and lugging it up to the loft.
Two birds with one stone.
Other than that, the dining room is still full of the Christmas decorations empty boxes which need to be stored back in the small loft, before I can decorate the table.
So I'm working on the basis that 10 days is more than enough time to restore the house to a tidy, welcoming, cosy and fully festive condition.
Hmm.
I may live to regret that ........
In view of the fact that we have family descending 'en masse' on Christmas Eve, I've decided to bite the bullet and try to get two of our spare rooms ready for guests. This is easier said than done, because during the course of the year, all the 'stuff' we can't decide what to do with, goes into one room or the other.
Fortunately we do have one permanently 'ready' guest room but over the festive period we will have to press the other two into service which means that they will have be tackled.
This is what they looked like.....
Yes.
Yes I know.
Even I am shocked and I live here.
In our defence, they probably look worse than they actually are. I spent an hour in the smallest bedroom today and have succeeded in clearing most of the 'stuff' out. Of course, as a consequence, there is now a pile of clothes and several boxes of departed offspring's belongings in two of the previously tidy rooms.
However, the pile of clothes is destined for the charity shop tomorrow, and later this week departed offspring will be commandeered to decide what of their stuff is to be kept and what is to be recycled/binned. At the same time they will be cajoled into boxing up stuff to be kept and lugging it up to the loft.
Two birds with one stone.
Other than that, the dining room is still full of the Christmas decorations empty boxes which need to be stored back in the small loft, before I can decorate the table.
So I'm working on the basis that 10 days is more than enough time to restore the house to a tidy, welcoming, cosy and fully festive condition.
Hmm.
I may live to regret that ........
Monday, 14 December 2009
Christmas preparations continue......
Many thanks to everyone who has sent me 'get well wishes'.
You will (hopefully) be pleased to know that I am now on the mend, and that the swine flu vaccine is most definitely coursing through my veins as I am eating like a pig.
However, I seem to have lost a weekend (which at this time of the year is quite alarming) but the good news is that I have done most of my Christmas shopping online from my sickbed (aka sofa in the sitting room) so it's not all bad.
I have decided to do the present wrapping thing in batches this year, rather than in one huge, 'lose the will to live' wrapathon on Christmas Eve. I actually quite like wrapping presents, but only if they come in boxes.
Square or rectangular I don't mind. So long as there aren't any curves.
Or angles.
Wrapping presents shaped like parallelograms, or trapeziums, or dodecahedrons is a nightmare, as they always end up going pear-shaped.
So this year no-one will receive anything from me which can't be wrapped with hospital corners.
Apropos of nothing at all, I was reminded earlier of a Scottish tradition which my mother developed into a fine art.
I didn't quite manage 100% success rate, but the one time my daughter's letter fell in the fire was NOT MY FAULT. Some eejit closed the back door which I'd carefully left ajar just before the 'up the lum' ceremony. I had to do some quick thinking and came up with a heart-rending story of a poorly elf who couldn't fly properly and had just missed the letter.
Hence the conflagration.
I don't know if my daughter was more traumatised over the burnt letter or the poorly elf, but the following year I didn't leave anything to chance and warned everyone WHO SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER that if they closed any open doors/windows without checking with me first there would be ructions on a grand scale.
You will (hopefully) be pleased to know that I am now on the mend, and that the swine flu vaccine is most definitely coursing through my veins as I am eating like a pig.
However, I seem to have lost a weekend (which at this time of the year is quite alarming) but the good news is that I have done most of my Christmas shopping online from my sickbed (aka sofa in the sitting room) so it's not all bad.
I have decided to do the present wrapping thing in batches this year, rather than in one huge, 'lose the will to live' wrapathon on Christmas Eve. I actually quite like wrapping presents, but only if they come in boxes.
Square or rectangular I don't mind. So long as there aren't any curves.
Or angles.
Wrapping presents shaped like parallelograms, or trapeziums, or dodecahedrons is a nightmare, as they always end up going pear-shaped.
So this year no-one will receive anything from me which can't be wrapped with hospital corners.
Apropos of nothing at all, I was reminded earlier of a Scottish tradition which my mother developed into a fine art.
Each year, as soon as our Christmas decorations were put up (just a few days before Christmas), my brother and I would both laboriously write our letters to Santa, then my mum would send them up the chimney for the elves to catch at the top. If your letter burned up in the fire then you'd obviously been bad and you wouldn't get your Christmas wish.
Harsh but fair.
Miraculously (considering our behaviour over the course of the previous year) our letters never burned up in the fire. They always went straight up the chimney then Tom and I would rush outside and my mum would swear that she had seen the elves snatch our letters and take them straight off to Santa Claus.
Many, many years later, I wanted to revive the tradition for my own children, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance, and although I had my suspicions, I wasn't quite sure how my mum achieved 100% success year after year. So I did some controlled experiments while the children weren't around.
Of course, the secret was to get a really good through draught allied with a blazing fire. I tried several combinations of open doors/windows until I got just the right updraft to whisk each letter swiftly up the chimney without them falling into the fire and burning up fiercely. Talk about the potential for childhood trauma.
I didn't quite manage 100% success rate, but the one time my daughter's letter fell in the fire was NOT MY FAULT. Some eejit closed the back door which I'd carefully left ajar just before the 'up the lum' ceremony. I had to do some quick thinking and came up with a heart-rending story of a poorly elf who couldn't fly properly and had just missed the letter.
Hence the conflagration.
I don't know if my daughter was more traumatised over the burnt letter or the poorly elf, but the following year I didn't leave anything to chance and warned everyone WHO SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER that if they closed any open doors/windows without checking with me first there would be ructions on a grand scale.
Nevertheless, I hope my children remember this yearly rite when/if they have children of their own......
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Pandering to my hypochondria.......
This weekend has been pretty much wiped out.
Thank goodness we had cleared our social calendar otherwise we would have been cancelling events left, right and centre.
I felt absolutely dreadful all day yesterday, and the limit of my endeavours was to lie, Camille-like on the sofa, swathed in fleecy blankets, dozing fitfully while watching wall-to-wall Film 4 all afternoon.
This morning I feel marginally more human, but I have no energy whatsoever and my arms and legs feel as if they're made from boiled spaghetti. So another restful day is in order.
Rampant hypochondria aside, I was really quite worried yesterday, as I've never had such a bad reaction to any seasonal flu jab before, and I (wrongly) assumed that the swine flu vaccination would have no substantial ill effect other than a sore arm for a few days.
HA!!
I checked out the vaccination website, and discovered that each person who has the vaccine, should be given a leaflet to read BEFORE the shot. And I'm not talking about the useless NHS leaflet which extols the virtues of the vaccine but says not a word about the possible side effects.
Anyway, the official Pandemrix vaccine leaflet cites the following potential side effects:
The frequency of possible side effects listed below is defined using the following convention: Very common (affects more than 1 user in 10) Common (affects 1 to 10 users in 100) Uncommon (affects 1 to 10 users in 1,000) Rare (affects 1 to 10 users in 10,000) Very rare (affects less than 1 user in 10,000) The side effects listed below have occurred with Pandemrix in clinical studies in adults, including the elderly and in children aged from 3-9 years:
Very common:
- Headache
- Tiredness
- Pain, redness, swelling or a hard lump at the injection site
- Fever
- Aching muscles, joint pain
Common:
- Warmth, itching or bruising at the injection site
- Increased sweating, shivering, flu-like symptoms
- Swollen glands in the neck, armpit or groin
Uncommon:
- Tingling or numbness of the hands or feet
- Sleepiness
- Dizziness
- Diarrhoea, vomiting, stomach pain, feeling sick
- Itching, rash
- Generally feeling unwell
- Sleeplessness
The leaflet continues....
These side effects usually disappear within 1-2 days without treatment. If they persist, CONSULT YOUR DOCTOR.
The side effects listed below have occurred in the days or weeks after vaccination with vaccines given routinely every year to prevent flu. These side effects may occur with Pandemrix.
Uncommon
- Generalised skin reactions including urticaria (hives)
The keep the best till last, and it is 'comforting' to know that these can occur up to a few weeks following vaccination.
Rare
- Allergic reactions leading to a dangerous decrease of blood pressure, which, if untreated, may lead to shock. Doctors are aware of this possibility and have emergency treatment available for use in such cases.
- Fits
- Severe stabbing or throbbing pain along one or more nerves
- Low blood platelet count which can result in bleeding or bruising
Very rare
- Vasculitis (inflammation of the blood vessels which can cause skin rashes, joint pain and kidney problems)
- Neurological disorders such as encephalomyelitis (inflammation of the central nervous system), neuritis (inflammation of nerves) and a type of paralysis known a Guillain-Barré Syndrome
So, quite an extensive list of possible side effects, a mere 13 of which I have experienced over the past 48 hours. Let's hope it stops at that and another 'duvet day' today will see the rest of the symptoms off.
I'm off now to reclaim my spot on the sofa from Small Dog. I shall make a cosy nest and continue my convalescence with the aid of the TV remote and my laptop.
PP is preparing a restorative home-made soup for lunch.
I might even finish off my Christmas shopping online.
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Yesterday........
.....was not such a good day.
It started off well enough.
Swine flu vaccination first thing in the morning, no problem.
Back home I got the last of the pre-Christmas orders packaged and set off to the Post Office, anticipating a huge long queue. However I was able to walk straight up to the teller's window and quickly dealt with two bagfuls of boxes which were despatched to destinations worldwide.
So far so good.
Back home again and the traditional foraging in the small loft to find the Christmas Decorations. I started decorating at 1pm and finally finished at 5.30, exhausted and starting to feel a bit 'odd'.
PP prepared an absolutely delicious mini Christmas dinner in honour of the festive decorations, after which even Small Dog had to take a bone out of her stays.
By 8pm I was most definitely feeling ropey, so I retired to bed where I tossed and turned, alternately too hot then too cold, aching all over, headache, mild hallucinations......feeling as if I was actually coming down with flu. Hardly slept all night so feeling less than human today, although the worst of the pain has thankfully subsided.
So I'm going to have a supremely lazy day, snuggled on the sofa with Small Dog, watching old films. There's a Margaret Rutherford Miss Marple on shortly so that'll do me.
At least the sitting room looks all festive and cosy.........photos to follow when I'm a bit less lurgiefied, including Small Dog's personal Christmas card to all her loyal followers.
Bet you can't wait!
It started off well enough.
Swine flu vaccination first thing in the morning, no problem.
Back home I got the last of the pre-Christmas orders packaged and set off to the Post Office, anticipating a huge long queue. However I was able to walk straight up to the teller's window and quickly dealt with two bagfuls of boxes which were despatched to destinations worldwide.
So far so good.
Back home again and the traditional foraging in the small loft to find the Christmas Decorations. I started decorating at 1pm and finally finished at 5.30, exhausted and starting to feel a bit 'odd'.
PP prepared an absolutely delicious mini Christmas dinner in honour of the festive decorations, after which even Small Dog had to take a bone out of her stays.
By 8pm I was most definitely feeling ropey, so I retired to bed where I tossed and turned, alternately too hot then too cold, aching all over, headache, mild hallucinations......feeling as if I was actually coming down with flu. Hardly slept all night so feeling less than human today, although the worst of the pain has thankfully subsided.
So I'm going to have a supremely lazy day, snuggled on the sofa with Small Dog, watching old films. There's a Margaret Rutherford Miss Marple on shortly so that'll do me.
At least the sitting room looks all festive and cosy.........photos to follow when I'm a bit less lurgiefied, including Small Dog's personal Christmas card to all her loyal followers.
Bet you can't wait!
Thursday, 10 December 2009
Today has been...........
.........a good day.
I love it, she hates it.
Impasse.
Tonight's episode was Lisa's Pony, and even though it's not in my top 10 favourite ever episodes, it still made me laugh. And let's be honest here, how many 'cartoons' would feature use of the words 'usury' and 'chicanery'.
I rest my case.
Tomorrow may not be such a good day. First thing in the morning I have my swine flu vaccination which I'm not looking forward to. Not the jab itself but the potential grotty ill effects afterwards.
However, things should look up in the afternoon as I shall be decorating our Christmas tree and making the house look cosy and festive. We've even planned to have a mini Christmas dinner in the evening, in honour of which, Small Dog will wear her festive collar.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...........
- Got all but three of our outstanding pre-Christmas orders packaged and ready to go.
- Remaining orders will ready to package and despatch first thing tomorrow morning.
- Pavilion kit arrived
- Have found excellent stone finish spray on interweb (will probably opt for 'Gotham City' grey)
- Ditto verdigris kit for copper roof.
- Did a bit of Christmas shopping
- Cooked lovely dinner while watching 'The Simpsons'
I love it, she hates it.
Impasse.
Tonight's episode was Lisa's Pony, and even though it's not in my top 10 favourite ever episodes, it still made me laugh. And let's be honest here, how many 'cartoons' would feature use of the words 'usury' and 'chicanery'.
I rest my case.
Tomorrow may not be such a good day. First thing in the morning I have my swine flu vaccination which I'm not looking forward to. Not the jab itself but the potential grotty ill effects afterwards.
However, things should look up in the afternoon as I shall be decorating our Christmas tree and making the house look cosy and festive. We've even planned to have a mini Christmas dinner in the evening, in honour of which, Small Dog will wear her festive collar.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...........
Can you guess what it is yet..........?
I couldn't resist it for a moment longer.
It's not my fault. The box was sitting on the workroom floor, all invitingly tempting.
So.
I swept all the stuff off the worktop and did a 'dry build' of the Pavilion kit to see what it looked like and kick start some ideas.
Firstly, the kit itself is absolutely top notch. It's made from MDF with routed slots so that each piece fitted together perfectly. The dry build took approximately 10 minutes, and as a seasoned kit builder I didn't even have recourse to look at the instructions, although admittedly that had more to do with the ease of assembly than any particular skill on my part.
I almost wept with relief when I saw that the 'interesting' roof was already assembled.
As I am congenitally incapable of making up any kit using only the components provided, I am already thinking of 'improvements' which can be implemented during the build proper. I'm not too keen on the rather slab-like staircase sides for a start, and perhaps the balustrade rails could do with some refinements. However, all in all it is a super little buy for only £7.51 and I can't wait to get started on it.
I want to make it look as if it has been in a forgotten corner of a large country estate. I think it was probably a folly built by the squire with the express purpose of luring his paramour somewhere private in order to have a 'dalliance'.
It should look neglected, and overgrown, with lots of critters in cracks and crevices. I have my eye on some very realistic spiders on ebay, and I'm sure I can rustle up a slug or two.
It will form the backdrop to a new project for next year which has been rumbling around in my head for a while, just waiting for the perfect setting.
Et voila, the perfect setting just dropped straight into my lap. I wish more things in life were so serendipitous.
I can feel a trip to the DIY store coming on........I need some 'old stone' coloured paint, and perhaps some moss coloured paint too. Not to mention some of that stuff you use to make verdigris copper. I still have several boxes of ivy etc left over from the toy shop build which can be called into use, as well as various decorative bits and bobs which I hoped would come in useful.
Anyway, here are two quick snaps of the dry build.
You can see what I mean about the roof. All those angles.......a recipe for disaster, or at the very least some experimental expletives.
As always, suggestions and ideas for architectural embellishments, decorative flourishes etc are very welcome.
Happy days.....
It's not my fault. The box was sitting on the workroom floor, all invitingly tempting.
So.
I swept all the stuff off the worktop and did a 'dry build' of the Pavilion kit to see what it looked like and kick start some ideas.
Firstly, the kit itself is absolutely top notch. It's made from MDF with routed slots so that each piece fitted together perfectly. The dry build took approximately 10 minutes, and as a seasoned kit builder I didn't even have recourse to look at the instructions, although admittedly that had more to do with the ease of assembly than any particular skill on my part.
I almost wept with relief when I saw that the 'interesting' roof was already assembled.
As I am congenitally incapable of making up any kit using only the components provided, I am already thinking of 'improvements' which can be implemented during the build proper. I'm not too keen on the rather slab-like staircase sides for a start, and perhaps the balustrade rails could do with some refinements. However, all in all it is a super little buy for only £7.51 and I can't wait to get started on it.
I want to make it look as if it has been in a forgotten corner of a large country estate. I think it was probably a folly built by the squire with the express purpose of luring his paramour somewhere private in order to have a 'dalliance'.
It should look neglected, and overgrown, with lots of critters in cracks and crevices. I have my eye on some very realistic spiders on ebay, and I'm sure I can rustle up a slug or two.
It will form the backdrop to a new project for next year which has been rumbling around in my head for a while, just waiting for the perfect setting.
Et voila, the perfect setting just dropped straight into my lap. I wish more things in life were so serendipitous.
I can feel a trip to the DIY store coming on........I need some 'old stone' coloured paint, and perhaps some moss coloured paint too. Not to mention some of that stuff you use to make verdigris copper. I still have several boxes of ivy etc left over from the toy shop build which can be called into use, as well as various decorative bits and bobs which I hoped would come in useful.
Anyway, here are two quick snaps of the dry build.
You can see what I mean about the roof. All those angles.......a recipe for disaster, or at the very least some experimental expletives.
As always, suggestions and ideas for architectural embellishments, decorative flourishes etc are very welcome.
Happy days.....
Christmas has come early.........
The bargains just keep on coming this week...........
On Tuesday I won one of these kits on Ebay for £7.51. It used to be available from Dolls House Emporium but was discontinued earlier this year. It used to cost around £40. I have a brilliant idea for it which will be revealed in due course when I've done a bit of displacement activity, *ahem* sorry, research.
The lady who was selling it lives in Whitley Bay and wanted it to be picked up so that she didn't have to post it. However she very kindly checked out a price for postage (also a bargain!), I paid yesterday afternoon and it was delivered first thing this morning.
Excellent.
I'm going to have a play with it this afternoon........the roof construction in particular looks 'interesting'.*
Glossary
*interesting = common doll's house parlance which roughly translated means 'infuriatingly impossible'.
On Tuesday I won one of these kits on Ebay for £7.51. It used to be available from Dolls House Emporium but was discontinued earlier this year. It used to cost around £40. I have a brilliant idea for it which will be revealed in due course when I've done a bit of displacement activity, *ahem* sorry, research.
The lady who was selling it lives in Whitley Bay and wanted it to be picked up so that she didn't have to post it. However she very kindly checked out a price for postage (also a bargain!), I paid yesterday afternoon and it was delivered first thing this morning.
Excellent.
I'm going to have a play with it this afternoon........the roof construction in particular looks 'interesting'.*
Glossary
*interesting = common doll's house parlance which roughly translated means 'infuriatingly impossible'.
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
Every little helps........
This must be the bargain of the year........
We've just bought a dozen bottles of one of our very favourite gorgeous New Zealand Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc wine and only paid £2.10.
That's TWO POUNDS AND 10 PENCE for the dozen!
At the normal price of £8.99 a bottle it's a bit pricey for us, especially as the total for 12 bottles would have been an eye-watering £107.88.
However they're on special offer in Tesco at the moment - 3 for £10.
Subtract a further 5% wine discount on 6 or more bottles and the total saving in-store is an unbelievable £73.28.
So our 12 bottles, would have cost £34.60. Still a bargain I think you'll agree. However we had a £10 off wine voucher, plus a further £22.50 of cash vouchers purely for collecting Tesco Clubcard points on all our regular shopping, so the total amount I had to pay at the till was a princely £2.10.
Even the checkout girl couldn't believe it and the news swept back through the queue like a tsunami as people abandoned their shopping to dash down to the wine aisle to see if there were any bottles left.
So that's our Christmas tipples sorted then.
I shall be famine and drought resistant.
Woo, and indeed, hoo.........
We've just bought a dozen bottles of one of our very favourite gorgeous New Zealand Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc wine and only paid £2.10.
That's TWO POUNDS AND 10 PENCE for the dozen!
At the normal price of £8.99 a bottle it's a bit pricey for us, especially as the total for 12 bottles would have been an eye-watering £107.88.
However they're on special offer in Tesco at the moment - 3 for £10.
Subtract a further 5% wine discount on 6 or more bottles and the total saving in-store is an unbelievable £73.28.
So our 12 bottles, would have cost £34.60. Still a bargain I think you'll agree. However we had a £10 off wine voucher, plus a further £22.50 of cash vouchers purely for collecting Tesco Clubcard points on all our regular shopping, so the total amount I had to pay at the till was a princely £2.10.
Even the checkout girl couldn't believe it and the news swept back through the queue like a tsunami as people abandoned their shopping to dash down to the wine aisle to see if there were any bottles left.
So that's our Christmas tipples sorted then.
I shall be famine and drought resistant.
Woo, and indeed, hoo.........
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
A comedy of errors........
Back home today after our 'let's throw caution to the winds and have a night away' farrago yesterday.
It started off OK...despite the pouring rain. We had no problem getting to Canterbury and finding the Park & Ride facility, which whisked us efficiently into the heart of the city without the stress of having to find car parking. The much lauded 'Christmas Market' was a disappointment, consisting of maybe a dozen wooden cabins selling rather expensive hand-crafted items.
Apparently the reindeers don't arrive till Thursday. Ditto the carol singers, gluhwein vendors and other assorted festive attractions.
Undaunted however, we managed to find a cosy little bistro where we wiled away a pleasant hour over a glass of wine and rather delicious lunch, before striking out to find two shops which I particularly wanted to visit, both of which specialise in miniatures.
The first turned out to have been gutted by fire and had subsequently changed hands.
This was disappointing but we trudged on towards Northgate to find the second miniature emporium. Luckily, we were overhead by a chap heading in the same direction who informed us that the shop had closed down some time ago, so we thanked him and turned back towards the city centre having avoided a long and futile, damp trek.
After perusing the delights of the city centre throughout the afternoon, and as it began to grow dark, we headed back to the car and set off to find our hotel.
This proved to be easier said than done as our SatNav was resolute that our route lay by way of Azerbaijan and no amount of inistent button pressing by us could dissuade her. Eventually after several wild goose chases down single track country lanes we finally managed to find our Travelodge and booked in to our £9 Saver Sale room.
Now. I've stayed in many Travelodges in the past in my peregrinations around the country, and I remember them as being basic, but warm and clean.
Our room was most definitely the former, but neither of the latter. In fact I will be shortly composing a letter of complaint to Travelodge Head Office, which will accomplish nothing except allowing me to vent steam.
Nevertheless, we determined to make the best of it, especially as I had researched a particularly fine pub nearby which served exemplary food worthy of a Michelin star.
Apparently.
Off we set at 7pm. Our SatNav had relented, and to make up for her previous intransigence, tried to make amends by taking us via a particularly pretty scenic route. At least we assume it was pretty. All we could discern were pitch-black country lanes, driving rain and a road so twisty and turny it made us feel dizzy.
However, we did manage to find the hostelry, out in the middle of nowhere, which looked warm and welcoming, despite the fact that the car park was eerily empty.
We tried the side door.
Locked.
Round the front, tried the main entrance door.
Locked.
Round the other side. No door.
We repeated this fruitless a few more times just to reassure ourselves that we hadn't inadvertently missed the portal, but we hadn't.
Realisation eventually dawned that it was closed, so we retraced our steps back to the Travelodge and pondered what to do next. We couldn't face the trip back through the rain into the city centre, and as far as we knew, there was only one eatery in the immediate vicinity. By then it was after 8pm and we were tired and hungry. So there was only one thing for it.
Little Chef.
Not quite the gourmand experience I had planned but any port in a storm and all that. It had the advantages that it was only a few feet away, and open.
In an effort to quash our disappointment we reasoned that since Heston Blumenthal had revised the Little Chef menu, it would probably be the closest we'd ever get to eating at the Fat Duck.
Actually, to be fair, it wasn't bad.
PP had steak and ale pie and pronounced it delicious. I had a prawn and warm salmon salad which was passing fair, although it's probably quite difficult to muck up something so simple.
We also had a really quite reasonable bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for the princely sum of £8 which can't be bad.
And as my grannie would have said, "hunger is a good kitchen".
We also consoled ourselves with the fact that had our preferred gastropub been open we would have spent considerably more.
This morning dawned bright and sunny and we set off after breakfast to wend our way home by way of a friends' house to meet their new dog.
It rapidly became apparent that our SatNav had undergone a change of heart in the night, and decided to make reparation by showing us hitherto unexplored tracts of Kent, accessible only by the most intrepid adventurers. We were soon plunging down rutted and potholed single track roads, streaming with rainwater and completely devoid of human habitation, not to mention signposts. Only when we reached the outskirts of Tenterden did it repent probably due to overhearing us muttering about drop-kicking it out the window.
However, we did eventually get home safely. Small Dog, who had been leading her dog-sitters a merry dance in our absence was exuberantly pleased to see us and has barely left our sides all afternoon. She is currently curled up in her basket, keeping a watchful eye lest we disappear off again without her.
Tomorrow is back to work with a vengeance as there is a pile of orders to get through, which I'm determined will be done and dusted by the weekend. Only then can I relax and begin our festive preparations, aided and abetted of course by Small Dog, who just LOVES Christmas......
PS No. That's NOT her.........
It started off OK...despite the pouring rain. We had no problem getting to Canterbury and finding the Park & Ride facility, which whisked us efficiently into the heart of the city without the stress of having to find car parking. The much lauded 'Christmas Market' was a disappointment, consisting of maybe a dozen wooden cabins selling rather expensive hand-crafted items.
Apparently the reindeers don't arrive till Thursday. Ditto the carol singers, gluhwein vendors and other assorted festive attractions.
Undaunted however, we managed to find a cosy little bistro where we wiled away a pleasant hour over a glass of wine and rather delicious lunch, before striking out to find two shops which I particularly wanted to visit, both of which specialise in miniatures.
The first turned out to have been gutted by fire and had subsequently changed hands.
This was disappointing but we trudged on towards Northgate to find the second miniature emporium. Luckily, we were overhead by a chap heading in the same direction who informed us that the shop had closed down some time ago, so we thanked him and turned back towards the city centre having avoided a long and futile, damp trek.
After perusing the delights of the city centre throughout the afternoon, and as it began to grow dark, we headed back to the car and set off to find our hotel.
This proved to be easier said than done as our SatNav was resolute that our route lay by way of Azerbaijan and no amount of inistent button pressing by us could dissuade her. Eventually after several wild goose chases down single track country lanes we finally managed to find our Travelodge and booked in to our £9 Saver Sale room.
Now. I've stayed in many Travelodges in the past in my peregrinations around the country, and I remember them as being basic, but warm and clean.
Our room was most definitely the former, but neither of the latter. In fact I will be shortly composing a letter of complaint to Travelodge Head Office, which will accomplish nothing except allowing me to vent steam.
Nevertheless, we determined to make the best of it, especially as I had researched a particularly fine pub nearby which served exemplary food worthy of a Michelin star.
Apparently.
Off we set at 7pm. Our SatNav had relented, and to make up for her previous intransigence, tried to make amends by taking us via a particularly pretty scenic route. At least we assume it was pretty. All we could discern were pitch-black country lanes, driving rain and a road so twisty and turny it made us feel dizzy.
However, we did manage to find the hostelry, out in the middle of nowhere, which looked warm and welcoming, despite the fact that the car park was eerily empty.
We tried the side door.
Locked.
Round the front, tried the main entrance door.
Locked.
Round the other side. No door.
We repeated this fruitless a few more times just to reassure ourselves that we hadn't inadvertently missed the portal, but we hadn't.
Realisation eventually dawned that it was closed, so we retraced our steps back to the Travelodge and pondered what to do next. We couldn't face the trip back through the rain into the city centre, and as far as we knew, there was only one eatery in the immediate vicinity. By then it was after 8pm and we were tired and hungry. So there was only one thing for it.
Little Chef.
Not quite the gourmand experience I had planned but any port in a storm and all that. It had the advantages that it was only a few feet away, and open.
In an effort to quash our disappointment we reasoned that since Heston Blumenthal had revised the Little Chef menu, it would probably be the closest we'd ever get to eating at the Fat Duck.
Actually, to be fair, it wasn't bad.
PP had steak and ale pie and pronounced it delicious. I had a prawn and warm salmon salad which was passing fair, although it's probably quite difficult to muck up something so simple.
We also had a really quite reasonable bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for the princely sum of £8 which can't be bad.
And as my grannie would have said, "hunger is a good kitchen".
We also consoled ourselves with the fact that had our preferred gastropub been open we would have spent considerably more.
This morning dawned bright and sunny and we set off after breakfast to wend our way home by way of a friends' house to meet their new dog.
It rapidly became apparent that our SatNav had undergone a change of heart in the night, and decided to make reparation by showing us hitherto unexplored tracts of Kent, accessible only by the most intrepid adventurers. We were soon plunging down rutted and potholed single track roads, streaming with rainwater and completely devoid of human habitation, not to mention signposts. Only when we reached the outskirts of Tenterden did it repent probably due to overhearing us muttering about drop-kicking it out the window.
However, we did eventually get home safely. Small Dog, who had been leading her dog-sitters a merry dance in our absence was exuberantly pleased to see us and has barely left our sides all afternoon. She is currently curled up in her basket, keeping a watchful eye lest we disappear off again without her.
Tomorrow is back to work with a vengeance as there is a pile of orders to get through, which I'm determined will be done and dusted by the weekend. Only then can I relax and begin our festive preparations, aided and abetted of course by Small Dog, who just LOVES Christmas......
PS No. That's NOT her.........
Sunday, 6 December 2009
Burning the candle at both ends.....and the middle!
It's been a very busy week.
Aside from our electrical woes and impromptu camping trip, yesterday I had a long-awaited visit from Gorgeous Daughter who I haven't seen since February when she stepped bravely into the breach and accompanied me to the Thame Fair when PP was indisposed.
Also impromptu visit from PP's daughter's partner's electrician buddy who equally valiantly fixed our lighting problem.
Hurrah!
Yesterday evening we went to a big 'family do' for PP's niece, then today we attended a Christmas lunch social gathering with many of our Hastings, Bexhill and beyond friends.
Phew.
No let up tomorrow either, as we're off to experience Canterbury's Christmas Market with a hotel stopover courtesy of Travelodge's 'you'd be mad not to' £9 room deals.
Bargain.
Once we're back home on Tuesday I plan to catch up on my sleeps then crack on with Christmas orders which should hopefully all be despatched by Friday.
If only I can survive this giddy social whirl........
Aside from our electrical woes and impromptu camping trip, yesterday I had a long-awaited visit from Gorgeous Daughter who I haven't seen since February when she stepped bravely into the breach and accompanied me to the Thame Fair when PP was indisposed.
Also impromptu visit from PP's daughter's partner's electrician buddy who equally valiantly fixed our lighting problem.
Hurrah!
Yesterday evening we went to a big 'family do' for PP's niece, then today we attended a Christmas lunch social gathering with many of our Hastings, Bexhill and beyond friends.
Phew.
No let up tomorrow either, as we're off to experience Canterbury's Christmas Market with a hotel stopover courtesy of Travelodge's 'you'd be mad not to' £9 room deals.
Bargain.
Once we're back home on Tuesday I plan to catch up on my sleeps then crack on with Christmas orders which should hopefully all be despatched by Friday.
If only I can survive this giddy social whirl........
Saturday, 5 December 2009
Let there be light.........
Thanks to the help of a knight in shining armour yesterday afternoon, we think we have identified the seat of our lighting problem, and have taped over the offending light switch so that no-one will use it. We still need to have it checked out but at least we now have operational ceiling lights, thank goodness.
In other light related news, my new SAD lamp has been in use, more for illumination than light therapy!
Here it is in action......note the fact that as soon as it arrives the sun is suddenly streaming through the windows fit to bust.
Typical.
And yes, the eagle-eyed among you will no doubt have noticed that big white flat thing which rarely ever sees the light of day.
The uncluttered surface of my workdesk.
*ahem*
In other light related news, my new SAD lamp has been in use, more for illumination than light therapy!
Here it is in action......note the fact that as soon as it arrives the sun is suddenly streaming through the windows fit to bust.
Typical.
And yes, the eagle-eyed among you will no doubt have noticed that big white flat thing which rarely ever sees the light of day.
The uncluttered surface of my workdesk.
*ahem*
Friday, 4 December 2009
We're in the dark.............
We have had no downstairs ceiling lights for the past three days.
We've tried checking all the bulbs one by one but when I flick the trip switch on, it immediately trips back off with a flash and a loud, unnerving bang.
The earliest our electrician can come round is Sunday morning so in the meantime we've been struggling along using table and desk lamps, as the ring main/wall sockets are working OK.
Work has been pretty much out of the question as the workroom is like the black hole of Calcutta without an overhead light.
In the end, we were so fed up that we decided to bail out of the house for the past few days, and instead set off for an impromptu camping trip with friends which was all the more enjoyable for being unplanned and 'last-minute'.
However, we're back in the Stygian gloom again now though, and the house feels very cold, unwelcoming and dismal. It's sobering to realise how much we take for granted, flicking a switch for instant illumination. It's also amazing how the lack of overhead lighting cannot be adequately substituted for by low-level lighting.
We're not even going to attempt cooking tonight and instead will be ordering in a takeaway.
Roll on Sunday when hopefully light will be restored to the darkest recesses of the house......
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