A little bit of dust

Today I have tweeted, Facebooked, blogged, cooked, cleaned, washed and had a little rest and read. I have to tell you that some serious cobwebbing has been going on in this house. I blame the medical profession.

We are only the second people to live in our house. The first people had it built in 1952 when building rationing was still in effect. But he was a doctor with a surgery in his home so was allowed a bit more of everything meaning the ceilings in our house are quite high. Too high. Otherwise I would dust there regularly of course.

Birthdays. christenings and food

Thanks to Stu for thinking of me with this photo!

Diet has gone to pot this week.

Son-in-law's 40th birthday on Wednesday meant creamy pavlova followed by feta and spinach pie. Yes, I know that's the wrong way around but it worked. Daughter celebrates her big birthday next year. I pointed out that she will be forty in 2020 and 20+20=40 but she wasn't impressed.

Then yesterday, as I said I think, I had ice cream with a friend in Verdi's. A big hazelnut basket sundae. 

On Sunday it's Granddaughter3's christening so there will be more food and cake.

This afternoon Husband asked me if I wanted to go on holiday to Fuerteventure in the Canary Islands. I said yes. He said, 'We would leave on 30th March for a week.'
'Wait,' I said. 'Thirtieth March? That's the weekend after this!'

His main concern was that we'll be staying on a half board basis - eat as much as you like breakfast and dinner. 'Will you be okay with that on a diet?'

Seriously? Like I'm going to diet on holiday? Or care? No, I will care. I will agonise over every mouthful. Until I've swallowed it.

Dreaming of a white Christmas

Met Vivien in Verdi's this morning and my good resolutions went out the window, my diet with it. Well, after she'd been so kind as to give me this

it would have been rude not to. 

When we weren't talking about writing or family we were bemoaning the state of the country. If ever there were something to sigh about this is it. And it's hard to see how we're going to get out this mess.

On a brighter note I received an email advertising the production of Irving Berlin's White Christmas in London in December. It's Husband's 70th birthday in December. Wonder if he'd like to go. Code for: I would love to go!

How to change a battery

Buy new Vivofit step tracker.
Use it until batteries run out.
Wait two years before buying new batteries.
Find screwdriver tiny enough to unscrew screws.
Ask Husband to remind you which way you have to turn it to undo.
Unscrew for ages before giving up and shaking the batteries out.
Fit new batteries.
Notice screen hasn't lit up but hope it will do when you tighten screws.
Tighten screws by turning in opposite direction from starting point.
Notice display still not lit up.
Shake vivofit.
Look on internet for instructions on changing batteries.
Undo screws.
Remove new new batteries.
Smear petroleum jelly over both sides using a made-do cotton bud.
Replace batteries.
Retighten screws.
Shake.
Squeeze.
Finish reading instructions. 
Replace Vivofit in strap.
Check display now.
Re-read instructions.
Remove Vivofit from strap.
Check location of little shiny thing (LST).
Replace Vivofit in strap with LST on the other side.
Press button.
Shake ferociously.
Read instructions more carefully.
Wonder if it needs to be connected.
Download app.
Get bored.
Throw Vivofit in bin.
Make cup of tea.
Retrieve Vivofit from bin and remove batteries. 
Store batteries in place so safe you'll never remember.

Who did you say I am?

Microwaving a packet of Uncle Ben's Special Savoury chicken-flavoured Rice has sent my nose into over-drive. Even in the other room I can still smell it. That's the trouble with my nose: I can't tell if something smells bad or if it's my nose. Whatever I'm not going to eat this. I only bought it to try it out as a possible diet lunch.

Husband says it's my granny's fault. I was brought up on home-cooked food and taught to look down on anything ready-made. That's not to say I don't use lots of sauces and other things that make life easier but I do still have standards. Having said that I think we ate packet rice the other week owing to a shortage of real rice and it was perfectly acceptable with curry. It was also very delicious curry that Elder Son made. 

I wonder if you know - or have noticed from the side panel - that I have a number of blogs.
Middle-aged, fat and frumpy is a record of my numerous slimming attempts. As you can see I started it a long while ago, when I could still be considered to be middle-aged. 
This Time Next Year is written by Alison, the heroine of my first novel of the same name. She is currently getting quite excited about a number of things that are happening in her life.
Not another wannabe writer is about my writing experiences, successes failures, plans, and hopes. 

I also have two FaceBook usernames - liz.hinds1 and LizHinds99 - as well as two Twitter names one of which is Liz_Hinds99 (my writing twitter). I'm on Pinterest twice or possibly once (hindsliz) and I think Instagram too.

It's no wonder I:
a) don't have time for writing my novel;
b) don't know what day it is let alone who I am.

But if you'd like to visit me, follow me, like me, buy me chocolate in any of these places I'd be delighted to see you.

I am eating humble pie

Totally in awe after the Welsh team performance against Ireland. Almost managing to hold the Irish side to no score (25-7), it was an amazing team effort. So, yes, Wales did the Grand Slam.

Yesterday they had effectively won quite early on in the game so my elation at the end wasn't high but today it's sinking in. 

Very happy hoppy bunny.

In which I have another brilliant idea

Making cawl (Welsh lamb stew) ready for dinner tonight.

Onions are mad at me for omitting them from photo.

Great for celebrating a Welsh win or comforting.

* * * * * *
I have had another brilliant idea. I have so many it is simply amazing that I am not either a millionaire or a highly-regarded philosopher. So why Husband groans when I utter the words, 'I've had a brilliant idea,' I don't know.

Actually I have been known to groan at my own words. But this one really is brilliant.

I'm writing a sequel to my first novel, This Time Next Year, so ... my idea is ...

via GIPHY 

I do a podcast in which I read book one.

People tell me I'm a good reader, and that I have a good reading voice, and I know exactly what inflections are needed where, and I'm cheap.

The fact that I don't really know what a podcast is, or how to make one, or whether it would work, or whether anyone would listen, or whether it would do anything to help to promote sales, is secondary at this moment.

Just let me enjoy my light-bulb moment. While wondering if I could do a drunk voice.

Leonard's mother wasn't in west wing

Our current evening schedule usually goes something like this.

Eat dinner.
Watch Big Bang Theory.
Watch something longer - Death in Paradise (but that's finished), Cold feet (also finished), Suits (finished), Scorpion. 
Or watch Working Moms/Great News/Grace and Frankie - but we're coming to the end of the series so I'm rationing those episodes.
Watch Big Bang Theory.
Go to bed about 9.00 pm.

What an exciting life we have.

I love Scorpion; Husband tolerates it. Its ridiculously unbelievable plots and near death experiences don't bother me because I love the characters. So we only watch one or two episodes a week. Other nights I disappear on to the computer while Husband watches stuff he likes e.g. Suburra, Medici, Umbrella Academy. Things that may well be good but I just can't be bothered to watch.

Which brings me to the point of this post. Husband and I frequently have this sort of conversation.
'Is that the woman from ...?'
'Might be. Oh no, she's the woman from ..., isn't she?'
'Well, what's she from then?'

The trend to have strong women in leading positions in organisations, while very commendable and right, is also confusing. So in case you have the same problem here's my little summary.

Leonard's mother in Big Bang wasn't CJ in West Wing but Diane in The Good Wife and the follow-up. Josh's assistant in West Wing is called Donna, yes, just like Harvey's assistant in Suits. Although she is also all-knowing she's not ginger.