Good morning/middle of the night Bill,
Is your "Greetings from the colonies" deliberately ironic, seeing as you've just had Independence Day, or do you secretly wish to be a colony again?
It sounds like you had a great weekend!
You certainly know how to have a good time on your side of the pond. I've been thinking of what we do on our Public Holidays:
Christmas and New Year- a celebration of hedonism when much of the country seems to close down for 8 or 9 days, and not at all a happy time for all the lonely people around. I hate that time in limbo between Christmas and New Year, and can't wait until everything's back to normal.
Easter-can be any time in March or April, becoming increasingly commercialised, and, just like Christmas, less and less connection with Christianity.
May Day- on the nearest Monday to May 1st, weather usually awful and nothing much happens, except maybe in small villages where they might have a little celebrating with the odd fair and Morris dancing.
Whitsun- last Monday in May, was a Church festival but now means nothing to most people. Nothing happens.
August-last Monday in August. Purpose? None. Nothing happens unless you go to the famous Notting Hill Carnival in London. No, never been, can't cope with vast crowds and worrying about my purse all the time.
And that's it!
There was a suggestion of having Trafalgar Day, in memory of Nelson and the defeat of Napoleon, but that might upset the French....
Oh dear, am I going to be in a bad mood today? Not working till the afternoon so maybe I should go to the Over Fifties swimming session for a giggle. There's that portly man who thinks he's Brad Pitt, and the woman who swims on her back and nearly drowns everyone with her flailing arms..
'Bye,
Grumpy Old Woman
Bill
Glad you had a great weekend,yet again it sounds idyllic. Weather here has been truly awful but as we always have a party on Wimbledon Mens Finals day and everyone turned up regardless I was quite a happy bunny. Made buckets of Pimms, OH produced usual lethal punch and a good time was had by all,the tennis helped - amazing match.
As to your query regarding leaving my home - not a hope ! Should we go to Singapore the company provides accommodation, I'd simple shuttle back and forth as the mood takes me.Or should I say when the mood takes him.
Grumpy Old Woman
Well, I'm glad you got that off your chest, no, the word "bodice" hasn't entered my head. If, as you say, you have been researching ,no wonder you're damned miserable,enough to send anyone off in a rant.
Evening Noe (who is actually online at the same time as me),
Is the cloud hanging over all of England today or just over your house?
Christmas, New Years and Easter aren't a whole lot different here. One just has to tune out the negative aspects and celebrate what is truely important. We have Thanksgiving the fourth Thursday in November which affords a four day weekend and traditionally involves families gathering together from all over the country. Fortunately it hasn't become too commercialized. Memorial Day (fourth Monday in May) and Labor Day (first Monday in September) bracket the summer season and have evolved into long weekends with very little public celebration but a lot of partying. And of course St. Patty's Day and Halloween have turned into drunken party nights or as a lot of us older folks refer to them - "Amateurs Night"
Eeeek!
I didn't know he'd been knighted! Or has he been? There was talk of a campaign to make him a knight, but has it happened?
I have heard that his childhood house is due to be demolished by Liverpool Council and there is a campaign to preserve it as a "listed" building, meaning it is of historical or architectural value. Quite right. Humble homes are just as interesting and worth preserving as stately homes.
Bill, sorry I didn't say hello when we were on line together. Most rude of me. I will go and do some ironing as punishment.
A severe weather warning has been given out for rain today, so yes, the cloud is over most of Britain, except perhaps bits of Northern Scotland.They're forecasting a month of wet weather so that's the summer gone.
Enjoyed my swim yesterday. "I think I'm Brad Pitt" and " I own this pool and don't care who I clout with my flailing arms" weren't there! Hooray! Maybe they've gone off together somewhere. Hope so.
Sandra, I live near Wimbledon (and once resided there; in the rough end!) but keep away when the tennis is on. Damn tourists....
Meant to ask-how's the old back now?
See ya!
G.O.W.
Thinking of emigrating.
I usually get reminders from Google that there are posts for me to read but I haven't had one since 4 July. It was a good job I checked in. Two pages of waffle to catch up on. Rain is pouring. Looks like it's in for the day. Wish I was.
Why is it that whenever I spot someone on-line they immediately vanish?
Steve, we need a live chat MSN type thingie!
I must share this with you. Just as I was about to post the above the phone rang. There was the sound of a ship's horn and seagulls, and a robot saying: "This is your captain speaking. You have won a cruise to the Bahamas if you answer the following Public survey questions. Just press the following keys...."
I made a noise reminiscent of the ship's horn and hung up.
Looking at the keypad on my phone the keys to press are: 3, 8,2,5, and then 6,3,3.
Is your keypad the same? On mine 2 is a,b,c, 3 is d,e,f and so on.
I've had 2, 7, 2,7 like that before. BT says these calls come from" abroad" and there's nowt they can do about it.
I'm off
G.O.W.
When I looked Ringo up on Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ringo_Starr to make sure I had the correct spelling of his name I noticed that it referred to MBE and mistakenly thought that was Knighthood. If I had read further down to section 9 I would have seen that he has not achieved that position.
Bill
Posted as you were last night so you may have missed it. Just didn't want you to think I was being rude not replying to your question.
Noe
So you live near the All England Club, may have passed you in the street loads of times as until last year used to go every time. Now that's surreal.
As to the back have been using Devils Claw as directed and feeling decidedly better.May also be due to the fact I haven't been gardening since the beginning of "The Flood".
Absolutely loathe those random calls,how come they know you've just got out of the shower or just sat down to dinner. Bit like the odd socks - a mystery of the universe
I did read your reply. Our weather has been goofy all year. After heavy rains and flooding earlier this season we have now gone about ten days with none. Coupled with the high heat we are now watching our lawn turn brown and have been forced to water our gardens. Due to the large size of our lot and the high cost of water we can only afford to do the gardens.
Noe,
I don't know if it's common over there but in the states a lot of companies have their phone number spell out their name or business or some catch phrase associated with their product such as "1-800-CARPETS" (1-800-227 7387). It's interesting to try and spell out words based on random phone numbers. The best I can do on the call you received (382-5633) is DUBLODE. I know this sounds strange - come on Lisa are you out there? - jump in and help me here!!!
Mr Poyap,
Even we literary types need to be naughty sometimes
Sandra,
Glad the back is feeling better.
Just to clarify; we lived in South Wimbledon(the poor end) about 23 years ago. The area is really Merton, and its main claim to fame is that Horatio Nelson and Emma Hamilton lived there, and was one of Nelson's favourite places. There is the Nelson Hospital and the Emma Hamilton pub! The area has changed quite a lot since his time though (not that I remember, you understand)
We now live about 4 or 5 miles away, and now that our address is Surrey rather than London SW19 our house insurance has gone down.
I often shop in Wimbledon, but never when the tennis is on. Tourists!
Hanging baskets appear on lamp-posts, all the shops are decorated in a tennis theme, and my bus to work is always held up
Guess what the shopping mall is called? Centre Court!!!
Night all
Noe
XXX
PS
Bill,
You have invented another word (you seem to be good at that) DUBLODE.
Next time the weather turns "goofy" or I get a phone call from a robot I will exclaim "Oh DUBLODE!"
An update on the novelette. I must admit I have gained a new respect for the writers of romantic fiction; it's not as easy as I thought, at least, not for me. I haven't had to use my imagination and write fiction since my schooldays, and I can't adopt an appropriate style. Why I'm doing it I do not know, it's not something I ever intend to publish! My therapist would do doubt find a deep-seated need somewhere in my psyche.
Anyway, a diversion is required. A while ago Bill and Sandra told us about when they had some work done on their houses. Here is my tale, the longest I've written so far, about our new windows and doors.
I'm experimenting with font colours, how about a nice green?
Stand by......
Our house is a modest three bedroomed mid- terrace dwelling which was built in 1928, and backs onto school sports fields, giving us a pleasant, open view- for a suburban area.
There was a spot of bother in Europe during the period 1939 to 1945, and at some point a bomb was dropped in the field which left the houses in our terrace “all shook up”. To illustrate that fact, I always show visitors the door frame in our bathroom, which at one end is at a conventional 90 degree right-angle to the ceiling, and at the other, something like a 120 degree angle. This gives the house “character”, but makes decorating and installing new doors and windows something of a challenge.
When we first moved in, back in 1985, the house had double-glazing and patio doors; still in good condition, as were the rest of the fixtures and fittings. Time passed, and 2006 arrived before we had had time to draw breath, and we noticed the house was beginning to need re-generating (like me)
I am a firm believer in “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”; a mistake we have occasionally made, but this time we had to face up to the fact that our windows did not just need fixing, but replacing. Our bedroom window frame was rotting, the handles had broken off at the front downstairs, and the patio doors were steaming up. As for keeping out draughts; those days were but a distant memory
After getting some half a dozen estimates we chose a company recommended by a friend. This company had built him a conservatory with which he was very happy, and they installed windows too.
It was late June 2006, when temperatures in tropical Surrey where we live reached a staggering 37c and there were hosepipe bans in place, and fears of water rationing.
Installation Day arrived and I peered anxiously out of the window in fear that they may not turn up (very pessimistic, me) When they did, I experienced a sinking feeling as I saw the van; chipped, grubby paintwork, dirty windows; not a good sign.
The men, father and son, as it happens, jumped out and grinned at me. “Mornin’ darlin’” said Daddy Window Fitter. Now, I don’t much mind being addressed as “darlin’”, “love” etc, but on this occasion I felt this was another not-very-good sign.
Anyway, to get our relationship off to a good start I offered them a cup of tea in the time- honoured tradition, and they started to unload the dilapidated old van. As our front garden is small, everything had to be taken around the back, where they carefully and tenderly dumped the glass and frames on top of our plants, breaking one of the lights in the border next to the lawn.
First problem; some of the glass panes were broken, they said. Noticed it before they set off, they said. Happened before the delivery was received by them, they said. Have to wait for replacements they said, but in the meantime, they had plenty to be getting on with. Oh, and the front door hadn’t arrived yet.
They started with the back bedroom; a straightforward job; which was done reassuringly well, so I felt a little better.
They then moved on to the bathroom. Now, our bathroom is small, I grant you; only large enough for the toilet, bath and handbasin, but that is no excuse for not using a ladder. I went into the bathroom to offer them a cold drink as I did not want them to faint in the heat, and found to my horror that Window Fitter Junior was balanced with one foot on the window sill, and one on the handbasin; moaning about the size of the bathroom. “Any minute now,” I thought, and that basin is going to come off the wall.” It didn’t thankfully, but only through sheer good luck.
I must mention here that Window Fitter Junior had just returned from his honeymoon in Bali, and his new little wifey missed him terribly and so kept phoning him, making each task he undertook take twice as long as it should, and he was less than enthusiastic about his work. I think he had only just learned to tell the time, judging by the way he kept looking at his watch and calculating when he would be able to go home.
The bathroom and back bedroom windows duly installed, the fitters decided to call it a day. Well, it was 2.30, and it was a very hot day.
The following day they returned to install the kitchen and patio doors. I had to work that day so had to leave the keys with an obliging neighbour and trust Fitters Senior and Junior to work un-supervised.
I arrived home to find that the factory had sent the wrong back door. It was a front door; completely solid with the window placed so high that that it was above my little head, and the glass was cracked. They had not realised this until they had taken out the old door, so had put the new one in; cracked glass and all. “We’ll have to order another door” they said. “In the meantime we’ll put some hardboard over the glass. The new door will take a week to arrive. And because you’ve got wonky walls it’s taken a long time to put the door in, so we won’t do the patio door until tomorrow".
Off they went; junior fitter eager to get home to wifey.
So, at the end of Day Two we had a new bathroom and bedroom window, and a kitchen in shadow. Boy, was it hot.
Day Three dawned. I returned home from work early to find that they had turned our radio on full blast and were using our new dining room chairs to stand on as they didn’t have any ladders! I was very angry; not only because of the chairs but because of disturbing our elderly and good- natured neighbours with ear-splitting pop music, but you dare not say anything to these people as they have you in their power. Upset them and who knows what they will do for revenge.
The patio doors were installed but the entire wall was now devoid of plaster. “We’ve had a terrible job here. Your walls are so out of line we’ve had to strip right back to the brickwork. It’s taken all day just to do these doors. And it’s so hot!” They glared at me as if it was my fault. “This is going to set the job back a day!” So you may have to finish later than 2.30? Shame.
“What about my wall?” I ventured to ask
“We’ll send a plasterer round next week”
They galloped home, leaving me with a naked wall and a dirty carpet where they had dumped their tools. We had, somewhat foolishly, had the room decorated and a new carpet put down the previous year. Take note of this before you next decorate.
So, what happened next? The front windows, which are bay windows, that’s what happened next. And it was hot..
They are tricky things, bay windows. When the surveyor came he made a point of saying:” I must be careful how I measure up here. They’re tricky things, bay windows. Easy to get it wrong.”
I do not know, nor even care, whether the new windows were too big or too small; all I know is that we had to wait a week with holes in the walls where they had started to rip out the old frames before realising the new windows did not fit.
Meanwhile the back door arrived! Hooray! The replacements for the cracked panes arrived! Hooray! The plasterer arrived and did a superb job. Hooray! The front door arrived. Wrong locks and handles. Boo!
Still hot.
A week crawled by with nothing happening at all, and then everything moved into first gear. The bays and door handles arrived and the fitters sprang (well, sauntered) into action. It was incredibly hot and humid. Opening the door was like stepping into a sauna. I spent a fortune on cold drinks for Fitter and Son, and again I was cross with them for switching on my son’s CD player (maximum volume) and using his CDs without asking.
I noticed something about the front windows. We had ordered, in a moment of extravagance, Georgian bars. They weren’t there. That surveyor again. Another week crawled by.
It was SO hot! Fitter and Son by now had lost all interest in the job, and threw the Georgian bars in as fast as they could and galloped home; only to be called back by me as one set of bars were obviously upside down, as was pointed out by numerous well-meaning neighbours who had been kept entertained by the whole show for the last four weeks or so.
Something I forgot to mention; Fitter and Son weren’t too keen on finishing touches, so there were gaps in the fillers here and there, and worst of all, the frame around the front door was little more than dry sand, which crumbled at the touch. We became tired of the “sandcastle” comments from neighbours.
They were clumsy too, were Fitter and Son. They had spilt orange foamy stuff (don’t know what it’s called) all over the window sills, and smudged the walls with it. At the back, they had spilt it on our new, white, metal Victorian-style garden table and chairs which my husband had brought all the way from a garden centre in Cornwall. (No, he didn’t go all the way from Surrey to Cornwall to buy them; he was working there!) I also noticed a very suspicious looking mark on the back door, looking like a burn.
By the way, I had not let all these things pass without comment to the Boss of the firm. I phoned him every day with updates, but rather wish now I had written him a letter or three. I am better at expressing myself in writing than I am at speaking. I don’t have many talents, but believe me, I can write a letter of complaint all right!
We decided to upset Fitter and Son. We have a friend who is a carpenter and joiner. He doesn’t do windows, but he knows a good job when he sees it, so we asked him to inspect the work. His verdict was that the windows were good and solid and secure, but the “finishing off” was appalling, and they had been extremely clumsy. Didn’t like that they didn’t.
Nor did the Boss. I said we wanted someone other than those two to come and tidy the work up, and what about the damage to our garden table? That orange stuff is totally irremovable.
So, he sent around the magnificent and wonderful trouble-shooter, whose name (hope he doesn’t mind) was Andrew Parsons. This paragon of a man was courteous, pleasant and understanding.
It was now July, and the day when temperatures broke all records. This man worked his socks off from 9am to 6pm putting everything right. Nothing was too much trouble. He barely took a break, when everyone else was moving in slow motion and complaining about the heat. All the neighbours came to watch as he performed his little miracles; including removing what he agreed was a cigarette burn from the back door. He quite understood our complaints, said what a nice lady I was, and assured us he would pass them on. I was so enraptured by him that I gave him a glowing letter of recommendation to give to a future employer; not something I undertake lightly.
The boss reluctantly gave us some small recompense for the garden table and broken plants and light, and told us that the job had cost them more money than they had made; what with having to bring in the plasterer and Andrew. He grudgingly admitted that none of it was our fault though. Big of him.
The job should have taken seven days. It took six weeks.
It was SO hot…
A week later we went on holiday, to Berwick on Tweed. It was freezing....
Our bathroom is falling to bits. It needs stripping back to the brickwork and a complete re-furbishment. We have been discussing it from the moment the windows were finished and my husband had re-decorated the dining-room, though the stained carpet remains. Then the hall needs painting and a new carpet, but there is no point in decorating the hall before the bathroom is done.
One day my friends, one day… Oh, and I won’t tell you the name of the company as it’s water under the bridge now, but if you need new windows and want to know who NOT to use, I’ll tell you privately.
Bill,
I nearly went MAD!!!!!! I almost used words like 3825, but I didn't, I promise. Never have. At that time it had never occurred to me that one year later I'd be going you-know-where.
As a man in you-know -where said to us: "Don't worry.You worry, you only get hassle".
How true.
Love
Noe
XXX
or as a lot of us older folks refer to them - "Amateurs Night"
Or has he been? There was talk of a campaign to make him a knight, but has it happened?
I will go and do some ironing as punishment.
