Here we are again

Good morning, everybody. Happy Monday, if such a thing exists at work.

Y’know, it’s bad enough having to work for a living and doubly so when the train you’re on in a morning is running late (delayed finish to engineering works was today’s excuse), but I could live with that. What made the trip in almost superlatively annoying was the girl sitting next to me applying gallons of dollop to her face (I’d like to say it’s an Essex thing, but it’s not). It wasn’t the fact that she seemed to be determined single-handedly to keep the international cosmetics industry profitable that was the problem, it was her iPod. Partially the fact that it was loud enough to hear as far away as Brighton, but specifically because it seemed to have but one track on it on eternal loop. I had to look the song up on the interwebs when I logged in this morning and now I know that the song I never want to hear ever again in my life is California Gurls by Katy Perry. Specifically the bit about ‘Daisy Duke’s bikini’. Luckily she got off the train at Stratford while I was still mulling over the possibility of cutting the wire to the earphones…

Anyway. I’m here, now and provided that I can get that earworm out of my head, I shall be happy. And to think I was getting fed up with Metal Mickey a week or so ago.

A busy weekend, then. fencingsculptor paid us a visit on Friday evening, crashing overnight full of authentic South Indian Curry (my, but it was spicy) and cider. Saturday was more nattering followed by a trip to HomeBase for shelving and a very nice pair of Lilies, courtesy Mr Sculptor.



There was some gardening and so on done, too.

Yesterday we decided to fiddle with the garden a little more and then hang pictures and mount shelves. We were partially successful: I need to buy screws and hollow-wall mountings for the living room shelving. We were saved from utter failure by the arrival of westernind with a proper mortar bit for the drill, without which the sturdy 1867 bedroom wall would have resisted our attempts to do anything other than chip the plaster work. Of course, by the time we had finished drilling and eaten, it was too late to completely finish the shelves, so there will be a bit of hammering to do tonight before I can deploy the necessary tranquilments above my desk.

The place is beginning to look a lot more homely; next step is to buy a stone Moai for the bottom of the garden, near then place we intend to dig a pool. Placed in the shrubbery at a jaunty angle, within a year or so it will be wrapped in plantish tendrils and a couple of years on from that attract moss. If all goes to plan, we will have a little frog pond, with the air of a lost civilisation, down there. I think I shall call it Innsmouth Pond.

Still no name for the house, sadly.

Here we are again

Good morning, everybody. Happy Monday, if such a thing exists at work.

Y’know, it’s bad enough having to work for a living and doubly so when the train you’re on in a morning is running late (delayed finish to engineering works was today’s excuse), but I could live with that. What made the trip in almost superlatively annoying was the girl sitting next to me applying gallons of dollop to her face (I’d like to say it’s an Essex thing, but it’s not). It wasn’t the fact that she seemed to be determined single-handedly to keep the international cosmetics industry profitable that was the problem, it was her iPod. Partially the fact that it was loud enough to hear as far away as Brighton, but specifically because it seemed to have but one track on it on eternal loop. I had to look the song up on the interwebs when I logged in this morning and now I know that the song I never want to hear ever again in my life is California Gurls by Katy Perry. Specifically the bit about ‘Daisy Duke’s bikini’. Luckily she got off the train at Stratford while I was still mulling over the possibility of cutting the wire to the earphones…

Anyway. I’m here, now and provided that I can get that earworm out of my head, I shall be happy. And to think I was getting fed up with Metal Mickey a week or so ago.

A busy weekend, then. fencingsculptor paid us a visit on Friday evening, crashing overnight full of authentic South Indian Curry (my, but it was spicy) and cider. Saturday was more nattering followed by a trip to HomeBase for shelving and a very nice pair of Lilies, courtesy Mr Sculptor.



There was some gardening and so on done, too.

Yesterday we decided to fiddle with the garden a little more and then hang pictures and mount shelves. We were partially successful: I need to buy screws and hollow-wall mountings for the living room shelving. We were saved from utter failure by the arrival of westernind with a proper mortar bit for the drill, without which the sturdy 1867 bedroom wall would have resisted our attempts to do anything other than chip the plaster work. Of course, by the time we had finished drilling and eaten, it was too late to completely finish the shelves, so there will be a bit of hammering to do tonight before I can deploy the necessary tranquilments above my desk.

The place is beginning to look a lot more homely; next step is to buy a stone Moai for the bottom of the garden, near then place we intend to dig a pool. Placed in the shrubbery at a jaunty angle, within a year or so it will be wrapped in plantish tendrils and a couple of years on from that attract moss. If all goes to plan, we will have a little frog pond, with the air of a lost civilisation, down there. I think I shall call it Innsmouth Pond.

Still no name for the house, sadly.