Another one bites the dust

Well, that's another pair of shoes down. I really should learn and buy ones that cost more than 15 quid, it just goes against all my instincts (that are yelling oi, mush, you could be spending that cash in a book shop...). Bought a nice pair of boots before Christmas, and discovered at the end of last week that I had actually walked holes right through the soles. I can stick my fingers through the bottom of both of them. Let your fingers do the walking indeed...Anyway, the heel of another pair has nearly peeled off today. At this rate I shall be going to work in my wellies...

Open wide now...your wallet, that is.

Dentist today. £5.60 for around 90 seconds in the actual chair. I think I'm in the wrong business....

Nine years asleep

Well, I appear to have made it to age 28, do I count as a grown-up yet? According to the 'aging' spreadsheet someone sent me the other day I've spent nine years of my life asleep so far. So - still time for a lie-in of a year or so then, jolly good.

Good crop pf presents, many tending to the sharp and shiny - including a knife sharpener from my gran, a tree saw with a rather manic crocodile grin from my mum and a gardener's knife with a leather sheath from my step-father. It's good when your family knows you so well...

Chris also got a present (Collins, you stop sniggering right now) - with a dvd I'd ordered him for Christmas finally arriving - always good to have amounts dropping from your bank account at random intervals. Which reminds me of another whinge - ordered a book from an American site, was charged for it, then got an email saying it was no longer available and I'd be credited back - but was actually given back less. I assume this is due to fluctuating conversion rates rather than a scam involving an employee skimming off around 40p from millions of accounts, although I'd actually be less annoyed if it was the latter. Enterprise counts for a lot.

A salt and batter-ry

Talking of jumbo sized, the large lady behind me in the chippy this evening ordered seven battered sausages. I'd like to think they were all for her...

Jan 24

Just realised that today is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. And the checkout lady in Sainsburys that served me earlier might well be forgiven for thinking that it was certainly mine, having rung through two bottles of wine, two Cadbury's Creme Eggs, a tin of biscuits and a monster* sized bar of chocolate. This was, however, just an eminently sensible reaction to having missed a bus by a minute, leading to missing my train by three minutes, and facing a possible further hour and a half before getting home. The day itself was rather sunny and fine, and if this was the worst then the rest proves to be rather jolly.

*Monster sized is bigger than "jumbo sized" but smaller than "hoofing-great", for those of an enquiring mind.

JAM 31

At least that's what I thought the huge advert in the Times said, read at a distance of two inches due to a lying-on-the-floor reading position. Not entirely effective warning page from the tax people then, given that I only turned back to look again through a vague interest in seeing 31 of what they were presumably intending to jam into the pictured Adam Hart Davis.

In The Library With The Lead Pipe

Just read my first Agatha Christie, out of curiosity and following the recent ITV productions. I read The Body In The Libray, as this was the first one on.

Not bad at all, given that a lot of people say that the books are actually awful. Bit annoyingly self-referential though - characters keep saying things like "gosh, I thought things like this only happened in books". Now once you can get away with, but they keep banging on about this all the way through. Also the small boy crime fan collects autographs and allegedly has one by Agatha Christie. Far too smug there, methinks.

Now the thing that drove me to write this, for the benefit of the three of you out there, is that while the dramatisation was very good in that it was very faithful to the book - word for word in many places - they changed who dunnit. I mean what the? Why? Why?

I seem to remember they started doing that with Cadfael too, which was why I stopped watching it (that, and the fact that they got rid of Sean Pertwee, ahem).

Permanent Fixture

Yes! After a quite bizarre twelve months, culminating in having to undergo trial by audio-typing-test and the third interview with the third organisation in four months to enable me to continue sitting in the same chair, doing the same job, I finally have a permanent position again. So, time to book the holiday then...

Pensioner-porth

To the seaside this afternoon, for a quick walk on the beach (freezing wind, big waves, rain) followed by chips. Rather creepy moment as we got up from a bench at the front of the carpark facing the sea and realised that nearly all the cars lined up behind us had a lone, silent, elderly occupant staring out at the beach. Just as well we hadn't been doing anythng suspect. Although probably rather disappointing for the watchers.

Pot Pourri

May have discovered one of the most pointless objects of household ornamentation - was given some pot pourri for Christmas. Now, surely the key point of pot pourri is to sit in a bowl smelling sweetly to itself. And indeed, the label boasts peachy freshness. But this is in a tall, thin, wiggly glass jar. With a wax seal. Which I hacked through, in the belief that I could pour it into a bowl to fulfill its destiny. But it's got a tiny neck, only slightly bigger than some of the pieces. Ain't no way those babies are coming out without a fight. And possibly a pointy hooked stick. So there it sits, looking mildly fancy and sweetening the living room air not one iota. Maybe I'll go back to relying on the smell of fresh coffee instead...

Porcu-pine

Took the decorations down last night, and carried the Christmas tree outside - ended up resembling a cartoon victim of a porcupine, or possibly someone that had been hurled into cactuses - green spikes everywhere. Sometime later that night I actually found one in my ear. I think it was taking its revenge for being consigned to the compost heap...

Bra-vo

In conversation at work with someone complaining she'd put the wrong bra on, which was uncomfortable - "it's one of those push-up ones, well, you've got to, haven't you, when you've not got much" - pause for a beat as she looks me up and down - "well, you'd know what I mean." Er. Thanks then.

Springcleaning vs catfood

Saw our landlord today, for the first time since we moved in (ie nearly two years ago). Now despite the place being quite respectable, this nonetheless prompted an early Spring clean, reaching the bits that the convergence of the parents a few days ago hadn't already pushed us into scrubbing. It suddenly became imperative to remove small marks from the surroundings that we hadn't even noticed were there before. Most of these seemed to be dried on cat food. How do you get cat food in these places, that's what I want to know. I mean, on the curtains. Near the tops of walls. It's not like she's a seven foot tigress (that would be me, yes?). And this stuff sticks. We may have discovered the new wonder-adhesive. No more scrabbling in the toolbox for the superglue, just apply rabbit-flavoured goo and wait for it to dry. Few things short of a small nuclear deveice will get it off again, guaranteed.

Anyway, the visit went well, with me managing to knock over a full cup of tea in the living room only after he'd been gone by several minutes. I find timing is crucial in these events...

Happy New Year, Ramblers

Jack
Originally uploaded by CornishRambler.

OK, so I missed January 1st, deal with it already.

So, 2005 and time to fill in all those birthdays, dentist appointments and other cost-inducing dates on the new calendar(s). I appear to have two of these, and three diaries. Heck.

Mind you, one advantage of a partner in the printing business is getting your own, tailor-made calendar. So here's Cap'n Jack for you, January's pin-up pirate.