Swans, Sherbet and Coathangers

I find it amusing that this country's education and families secretary is called Ed Balls. There, I said it. I snigger every time I hear it on the news. Right, I'm glad I got that out of my system...

One of the things we do here at my office is produce books and DVDs on general marriage and parenting issues. Our latest titles are re-vamped, re-filmed versions of material that we've had out for years already. The new releases are called 21st Century Marriage, and 21st Century Parent.

Yesterday, it was decided that someone might like to write some spoof articles for our staff intranet called 19th Century Marriage and 19th Century Parent. I bravely stepped up to the plate, but it seems that the resulting articles have been deemed too inappropriate to put on an official work site. Quel Surprise. The parenting one didn't get finished, but In order to preserve the marriage one for prosperity, just in case it never gets published anywhere else, I thought I'd stick it up here:

19th Century Marriage

For over 20 years, Robert Parsonage has been a money lender in Cleethorpes. Now, for the first time, he humbly presents some of his ideas on paper to you, the man of the house, and trusts that you will find them informative and insightful.

For an additional fee, Robert would be delighted to come and read a selection of extracts from his book in your own drawing room. Please note though that crying children will not be welcome in the room, and you are politely requested to ensure a turnout of at least 200 gentlemen. The cost of this service will be 20 guineas, which cannot be refunded.

The village where I work, Taffs Well, is full of lovely people, but they all seem to be chain-smoking alcoholics.

This is my impression, based on daily observations down at the local Co-Op store (other supermarkets are available). There they will all be, in the queue ahead of me, with perhaps a dozen or so items in their basket (apple, pork chop, shampoo etc), and just as it comes to the point of payment they will suddenly say, "Oh yes, and 3 bottles of your cheapest Scotch please, and 400 Rothmans." I imagine there's a community centre where they all go and sit around, getting legless while trying to perfect 'the cough'.

I'm only guessing of course, but there does seem to be a very specific breed of local resident around these here parts. You can normally spot them a mile off. Their eyes have a kind of soupy detachment which speak of long nights trying to cook dinner whilst half cut on whisky.

As I said, they're all very friendly. The local shop is the only place I know where all the staff have bothered to remember all their customers' names, mine included. I just find it mildly puzzling, the sheer quantity of booze and fags that seems to be leaving that place on a daily basis. Certainly, the smoking ban is never going to lead to the demise of cigarettes while we still have places like Taffs Well. They will keep on flying the flag for tobacco. If they can stand up.

For the first time since moving in to my current house, I have had to queue for the shower. This wasn't particularly helpful, because my time keeping is spectacularly bad, and my entire morning routine revolves around split second timing. Eventually I scrubbed the dirt from myself and returned, gleaming, to my room. Standing there, pretty much with no clothes on, I looked down to find the dog staring back up at me with a cheeky grin on his face. "Good morning!", he didn't say. "Aaaaaargh!", said I. I think that the dog was jealous. His reproductive bits were removed many years ago.

I don't believe it. I'm living with a celebrity dog.

About a week ago I came home to find that all was not well. I crossed the threshold, and straight away I felt a throbbing in my right leg. What could the problem be? Was this the onset of Deep Vein Thrombosis? Nope... looking down, I discovered that an enthusistic chocolate coloured dog was thwacking his tail repeatedly against my calf. I took this to mean "Hello!" To be honest, a firm handshake would have been preferable.

This dog is nuts. He clearly suffers from some kind of insecurity complex, as he loves to take cover under tables or chairs if it feels anxious. Mind you, that doesn't stop him from having a good sniff round my room if I leave the bedroom door open.

Last night, we were all sat around chewing the fat (literally in my case - I was working my way thorugh a lamb curry), when Helen casually dropped into the conversation that the dog used to belong to this person:

Yes, it's the posh English one form Buffy. Or the prime minister from Little Britian. Or 'that bloke from the coffee ads'. However you know him.

I thought this was quite a cool claim to fame, but Helen took it in her stride. "Yes, I have an ex celebrity dog. But I still have to take him out to do a crap every evening."

The dog's only with us for one more week. I must get it's autograph at some point.

Yesterday, I discovered that I should be encouraged to blog at all times. Hurrah! I was at an all day workshop that was looking at the topic of 'factor X', and mine is anything involving words, it would seem. I also have a very keen interest in music, but I think that just manifests itself in having to have the radio on while I work. I couldn't cope with silence!

So, I think I'm possibly in the wrong job. It's not that I can't administrate, it's just that it doesn't fire me up particularly. I also need a job where I can think creatively, and plan. I also have a tendency (apparently) to ask 'why' a lot. I'm like a pig hunting for truffles. I need to get to the earthy but delicious heart of an issue before I can engage with it properly.

Also, I don't just do stuff (this has frustrated my mum for years and years, and will also annoy the hell out of Fiona I expect). I have to take my time and think before doing anything at all. Cries of "Just make a decision, will you!" fall on deaf ears.

Over the weekend it was with great pleasure, and more than a little trepidation, that Fiona and I asked Hannah and Naomi to be bridesmaids at our wedding. I say trepidation because they're both very young (6 and 3 respectively), and madder than a bag of spanners on acid, so we hope we've done the right thing! I'm sure when it comes to their big moment they will do us proud, but there's always the slimmest of chances that they might decide instead to look up Fiona's dress, or play hide-and-seek around the altar. Meanwhile, their mum will be conducting the service and thus will not be in a position to stop the service while she disciplines the sprogs.

http://www.freewebs.com/swanssherbetcoathangers/index.htm
...now with brand new video of a snake 'throwing up' a hippo. Strong stomachs may be required.

Mortgages.
What can you say about them that hasn't been said before? Well, my current experience is a bit of a miserable one, and not because I have a large crippling mortgage, but because I don't have one. The lovely people at Nationwide won't give me one at the moment, because after one look at the house they got cold feet, bless their cotton socks. I'm going to have to debate carefully with them just to get our case reviewed. It's a bit of a difficult situation, becuase they are reluctant to grant the mortgage until money is spent on certain parts of the house to bring it up to scratch. Well funnily enough, Fiona and I have that money, and are planning to spend it on bringing certain parts of the house up to scratch. But we can't get in and get started until... we have a mortgage! You see the problem.

http://www.freewebs.com/swanssherbetcoathangers/index.htm

Go on! You know you want to take a look. Go on...

I will be over here on this one just a little while longer...

Why can't professionals manage to do the job they say they're going to? I'm thinking in particular of my useless estate agent, who told our surveyor to go away the other day because they didn't know who they were.

Wrong!

You DID know who they were. The surveyor had an appointment. But whoever dealt with it completely failed to make a note, or let anyone else in the office know. Well done indeed. *slow hand clap*

Fiona's been having problems too. Her opticians have lost her prescription no fewer than three times, and send her comletely the wrong contact lenses a similar number of times. Bravo. Fiona will now be switching opticians, and quite right too. Major companies who provide a public service don't seem to take any care or pride in their work any more. (Is that a bit too much of a sweeping statement?!)

As I was speaking to my surveyor earlier, I apologised for all the extra hassle and inconvenience that had been caused. "Don't be ridiculous", she said "you're the customer." Good for you, I thought.

This morning, I was awoken by a persistent knocking at the front door. I stumbled out of my bedroom to discover that a double bed was being delivered, and my housemate Nick was attempting to haul it upstairs and assemble it. I’ve heard of making your bed in the morning, but this was ridiculous.

I’m 27 today! I wonder if I’ll find that something has been delivered for me when I return home? Probably not a double bed, sadly. This is the first year I’ll be sharing a birthday with someone, and it’s very apt that it will be my Fiancée Fiona! I’ll never have my birthday all to myself ever again, which feels both very odd and very exciting.

Okay, so, why the huge pause in the writing of the blog entries? Many of you thought I was just being lazy! No no no. I've been doing some research during my lunch breaks, and am very pleased to announce that Swans, Sherbet and Coathangers is moving. Again! These things need to keep moving and changing to stay fresh, and I'm really, really pleased with the new one. It's just about ready to go now:

http://www.freewebs.com/swanssherbetcoathangers/index.htm

You need to type in the whole lot, even the .htm
Then, please bookmark the site to be able to find it easily in future. I hope you like it, because it's much, much more than just a blog. It's far more... interactive!

For the rest of the week, I'll stick blog entries both here and on the new site, and then this one will shut. Hope it's been worth the wait...

Blackle Update: I had an interesting comment from a Mr. Paul Holstein yesterday, telling me that Blackle saves no energy whatsoever if you're using an LCD screen. In fact, it will use more! He said I should watch a video he had posted, where he has proved this using a watt meter. At first I thought he was just trying to sell me a watt meter, but yes, if you click on the 'more info' tab below the product specification, there is the video, and there is the evidence! And if you want the watt meter as well, that'll be $95.95

I have finally returned, after what appears to be a three month break, to start scribbling garbage on these pages once again. Sorry!

So... what's new? Well, the last time I was writing here I was newly(ish) engaged, and now I am a proud member of the Society for the Appreciation of All Things Wedding Planning Related (SAATWPR). At least, I would be if the thing existed. If anyone is planning on setting it up, then please try to come up with a catchier acronym! I am officially an expert on caterers and photographers in the south Wales area. Go on, ask me anything.

I am also a very proud member of the Trying To Buy a House For The First Time Society (TBHFTFTS). This makes me, I guess, an expert on mortgages, surveys and valuation fees - but please, don't ask me anything about those. They suck.

It's looking like it will be a 'four weddings and a funeral' year for me in 2007. Sadly, my grandmother lost her battle with old age just over two weeks ago (and she really was battling - hanging in there fantastically, despite what must have been an obviously depressing quality of life for her). The funeral was very dignified and peaceful. On a happier note, I've really enjoyed touring the country and demolishing many a buffet dinner over the last few months. I particularly enjoyed the setting for Mel and Robin's wedding reception, munching roast beef while staring out over the Cotswolds. Could Saturday nights get any better than that?

Do you Blackle? I've only just come across this. It's a web search engine powered by Google, the key feature being that the screen is mostly black. The claim is that having a black screen in preference to a white one will actually save energy. I don't know exactly how credible the theory is, what the science behind it is, or how much energy gets saved, but I'm willing to give it a try. Every little helps.