Days to Wedding: 4
State of readiness: Not a great deal accomplished in terms of the two-page to-do list, but in the last week I have read three Doctor Who books and five Man From UNCLE books. That's an achievement of sorts isn't it? In prevarication, if nothing else...
Days to Wedding: 5
State of Organisation: Better, having amended reception pasty order to a level that they'll actually deliver, and the beer order now also being safely placed. Incidental Purchases: 1. Well obviously I needed another Clive Cussler book to add to the pile I haven't read yet.
Days to Wedding: 6
Alcohol level: Extremely good - having been presented with 15 bottles of wine as a wedding present from my department.
Days to Wedding: 7
State of organisation: semi.State of mind: would be happier if my mother hadn't suggested that they might commandeer the reception hall for local council elections. They'd have told me by now if they were, right? Right?
The Compost Affair
You'll remember, down the page a-ways, the advent of the new compost bin? Delivered on the 13th April, or possibly the day before. Anyhoo, have just received a letter dated the 21st April thanking me for my order and informing me that "we aim to deliver within 14 days of this letter". That it was 14 days before the date of the letter is quite impressive really. Or Leeds has fallen into some form of timeslip, feasible, certainly.
Bunny Rescue Squad
So there we were, walking out of work, when from under a big wheelie bin skitters this baby rabbit, closely followed by a large ginger cat. Cue surreal Benny Hill moment of bunny zigzagging across a lawn, followed by the moggy, followed by m'colleague, who was wielding a lunchbag and car keys and shouting "no! stop! leave him alone!" and drawing very odd looks from passers by on the other side of the wall who couldn't see what she was chasing. All helped, obviously, by me standing there pissing myself laughing. Eventually the cat was cornered on another wall, and I pulled myself together long enough to pick up the rabbit, sneak it past the cat (under my coat) and deposit it in some distant shrubbery. Our good deed for the day...
Happy Easter everyone, whatever you happen to be up to. For me, gardening season has started, and yesterday I put in seeds/bulbs for sweetpeas, cornflowers, candytuft, anemones, lily of the valley, freesias (plus a couple of random packets of misc). Pots have been tidied and weeded, and the new compost bin is now getting a bit of action. The daffs (picture below) are in fine fettle, and the magnolia we were given last year is flowering for the first time (left). Should be a nicely floral summer...
Now is it me, or is expecting to be able to buy Easter Eggs on the Saturday before Easter Day not wholly unreasonable? I'm sure there are usually huge piles of the things selling off after the event, so why-oh-why-oh-why was there not ONE SINGLE BLASTED EGG to be found in the whole of Falmouth yesterday? I was forced to buy Doctor Who books instead, which won't do a lot for the chocolate consumption levels of my relatives, but at least made me happy. I finally tracked some down in the local shop (adding a certain grrr factor to the whole event, but at least this way I got new and shiney books out of it). And the walk was worthwhile, as I saw a pair of nuthatches on the way home; haven't seen any for years.
Spending of Ill-Gotten Gains
Bought a book with a bit of my lottery haul on Friday, with what has to be one of the most fabulous titles ever - "Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death". I mean, I had to really, with a name like that. Not a complete leap of faith though, it's written by MC Beaton, who wrote the Hamish Macbeth books, which I like a lot (incidentally, another entry in my list of "eh?" in the book : screen adaptation stakes).
As well as aforesaid compost bin, today brought me three different forms of chocolate from the team at work, a beautiful bunch of mixed daffodils (left) courtesy of a friend of a friend at work, and then I won £12 on a scratchcard. Way hey!
Dalek Chases Cornish Cat
...oh alright so it's my new compost bin...
Well, survived my first hen night (being the works one, having another one in two weeks, when my liver's recovered somewhat...). I'm the one in the shiney hat, which I crossly refused to wear right up to the point I was drunk enough not to care...
Cashier of Lethe
Once thou hast battled your way through the crowds of hell through the aisles of doom, thou must contend with the cash register of forgetfullness...
Womanfully struggled round Sainsbury's and rocked up at the fag counter on the way out to buy a Radio Times. Chap in front of me bought a couple of things and a scratch card. After he'd gone, the cashier noticed that he'd left the card on the counter, so we kind of tch'ed and he put it to one side. Paid for my magazine, declined the offer of a bag, carefully put away my 5p change and went home. FORGOT TO PICK UP THE F'ING MAG.
Convinced now the said cashier has a spell of forgetfullness on his till, and he's gradually amassing a fortune in wrongfully obtained cigarette papers and chewing gum under the counter.
"They're gonna kill us?" / "Sacrifice us. It's classier."
Herewith: random picture of Jensen Ackles. Because I can; because I'm loving Supernatural; and because after this week's episode, James' post about apple trees has me worriedly looking round for scarecrows...
Surreal visions at the station yesterday, with First Group taking over Wessex trains and stations. Pillars and arches of balloons, tables of food that was being eyed suspiciously by people shuffling past, and a small jazz band drowning out the announcements. Lots of press people and fat men in suits milling about and getting in the way of the actual passengers, as a train of entirely first class carriages freshly painted in the new livery held things up and then pulled off down the main line with about three people on board.
Wouldn't it have made a bigger and better impression with the people that actually use the train every day to have given us that one on the branch line to go home on instead of the mud spattered, crowded effort we have instead? When that pulled out and ours pulled in, everybody laughed at the contrast.