Swans, Sherbet and Coathangers

There were open hostilities on the streets of Cardiff last night, but from a slightly unexpected source. The dogs were angry. They weren't proper dogs mind you, more this kind of thing:

This is not a proper dog! If you own one of these, what on earth were you thinking? And please tell me you don't force it to wear vile doggy clothing...

Anyway, I was wandering around my neighbourhood yesterday evening, minding my own business, when I almost tripped over a ball of fur in a coat. To my right, a second lump of hairy silliness was staring off into the middle distance. As I followed the dog's gaze, I could see a lady of late-middle age flapping her arms in a 'poultry' kind of motion. As if this wasn't amusing enough, she was wearing the kind of outfit that went out of fashion in the late 1800s. I can only guess that she was trying to round up her precious mutts, but they were having none of it and I can't really say that I blame them. It was a very strange moment, and I felt caught up in it when both dogs turned to me with emploring eyes: "Please, take us away!" Fat chance. I saw the lady again this morning, and she hadn't changed her clothes. I can only assume that she had spent all night trying to gather together her small canine fraternity.

Yes, it has been far too long since my dear little site last had an update. The reason for this is not wanting it to turn into one long rant about how difficult and time consuming it is to re-decorate a house. There was a real danger, for quite a time, that I would have used it as a forum to vent my copious but largely uninspiring frustrations about anything from thermostats to unhelpful chavs who come in the dead of night to steal your wheelie bin (Why? What are you going to do with it?!)

Fiona and I, plus a small but willing band of helpers, have been slaving away for over two weeks now, and things are really starting to come together, although I am still discovering a multitude of delightful little quirks that need ironing out. Who knew, for example, just how ingrained with 50-year-old urine our bathroom floor would be, once we crowbarred up the old lino to have a good look at it? I think this definitely wins my 'Most Haunting Smell Of The Weekend' award. I need a holiday, I think. And some air freshener.

I am fundamentally in love with a chinese restaurant just round the corner from my house. It's not the food particularly, but the whole package, from the naff pictures on the wall of their food (that bear no resemblance whatsoever to the dishes that arrive at your table) to the pleasing lack of any piped music. Top of the list, though, has to be their set price menus, offering far too much choice, all freshly cooked to order. How often have you been to one of these 'One Price Buffet' establishments, only to discover that all the dishes have been sitting under a heat lamp for at least five weeks already? Chicken chow mein has become 'shoe leather in sludge', and the less said about the egg fu yung the better, really. The last time I was in one of these places, I was with my parents I think, and at one point we went up to re-fill our plates only to discover on our return to the table that they had swiftly removed all our half finished drinks becuase they thought we'd left! That's how quick their table turnaround needs to be!