Saturday Photohunt - Birds

The great tit.

And my favourite, the long-tailed tit.
To take part in Photohunters, visit tnchick.

Rites of passage

I'm in the middle of emptying the kitchen but I've run out of boxes. Why on earth do people ever move 'just for fun'? I'm worn out already.

The kitchen bits arrive tomorrow and the fitter moves in on Monday.

Daughter's baby is due tomorrow.

It still doesn't seem real. I can't really imagine it happening: a new kitchen after all these years. No, I'm joking. Well, I'm not; the kitchen has been a long time coming. But really I meant I can't believe that any day now - or almost certainly in the next two weeks - there'll be a new baby in the family. Daughter, my child, will have a child of her own. Another rite of passage.

I must start taking my phone with me when I go out. ('Which is what you were supposed to do from the day it was given you!' Husband points out.)

Things I found in the kitchen

1 nit comb;
1 bullet;
13 bottles of sun cream;
Harvey's lead.

And these are just the things I'm NOT throwing away.

Special women

Zac's has been good for the last three weeks. Well, I wasn't there last week as I was in Devon but I heard it was good. Sean's been in Australia and while he's been away we've been hearing stories each week from a couple of regulars about their lives and Bible verses that have been important to them.

Before we got started last night Gerry showed me his feet. Living rough in the weather we've had over the past few weeks has been especially hard on his feet, the skin of which was cracked and raw. He had some new boots and he was rummaging in the Zac's store for socks. His feet were in a really dreadful condition but, oh my, they ponged to high heaven.

There's a lady, a nurse, who's volunteered with the homeless for years, tending their feet, cuts and colds. I have enormous respect for her, a fact that was brought home to me again last night: there was absolutely no way I could have touched - or even gone near - Gerry's feet. My stomach would have turned.

Another lady who was there last night was telling me about her job working with 'difficult' teenagers and when she said difficult, she meant violent, foul-mouthed, obnoxious young people. She is another whom I admire tremendously. She and others like her fill a vital need and get paid, in some cases, little more than the minimum wage.

When we hear of bankers getting huge bonuses, we surely have to ask: where is fairness in this world? These women don't do what they do for the money; their motives are selfless. Which makes them all the more worthy of respect.

Black or black

For the last 3 months we've been preparing for the fitting date for our kitchen. At the start we decided we'd have granite worktops and we got a couple of samples from the granite suppliers. They said we didn't have to make a definite choice until fitting time. So we brought the samples home and sought opinions. Everyone i.e. Husband and children, opted for the Angola black (left); I preferred South African black (right).

So next week I'm ordering South African black.

It's MY KITCHEN! And I'm in assertive mode.

Little Miss Assertive

Yesterday the man from B&Q phoned me. 'We're coming to fit your kitchen next week.'
'Yes, I know.'
'Well,' he took a we-have-a-problem breath, 'we have a problem with your cooker.'

They couldn't get the one I'd ordered - my guess is that they forgot. Rangemaster, the manufacturers, don't have any in stock as they build more or less to order, especially in these recession days. He offered me another Rangemaster, almost exactly the same except it didn't have a lid. 'But it does have a wok stand and griddle.'
'But I want the one I ordered with a lid.'
'This one's got a child-proof lock.'
'I want a lid.'
'It's more expensive, but obviously, we wouldn't charge you the extra.'
'I'll think about it.'

I thought and came to the conclusion I wanted the one I'd ordered. It took us long enough to choose it and I've waited years for my new kitchen: if we have to delay fitting the kitchen for a few more weeks it won't hurt.

I called them back and told them.

Today the man from B&Q phoned me again. 'My boss has said we'll go ahead with fitting your kitchen and we'll lend you a cooker until yours is ready.'

Yay! Hooray for the assertive me!!

Take a deep breath

I needed some sea air in my lungs today. The face of a beach changes depending on the season, the weather and the tide. The autumnal high tides and the strong winds have left exposed a section of the old stone drainage pipe in Brandy Cove.

The wind was still gusting as we scrambled over the rocks. George was struggling to keep his balance.

In Caswell at low tide a large expanse of beach is revealed but why is it that other dogs never run the whole breadth to come and see George? He's always the one who has to go and pay his respects. I guess he's just a sociable little soul.

George and Willit

Willit is only 6 months old and George just about still has the upper hand when they go for walks together but here George looks decidedly unsure when Willit starts to chew on his stick.

Monochrome Maniacs

Pwll Du pebbles.

To take part in Monochrome Maniacs, go here.

Husband missed me

Husband hugged me and whispered, 'I missed you.'

Now regular readers will know that this is where Husband should have stopped but lemming-like he continued. 'I've been really busy in work AND I had to do the things you usually do.'
'Such as?'
'Walk George.'
'I thought Younger Son took him out.'
'Well, yes, he did but I had to cook dinner.'
'You had leftover cold meat and salad one night and YS cooked fajitas the second night, so all you had to do was "cook" Sainsburys pizzas.'
'Well, I had to do the dishes!'

So what Husband meant was, 'I missed you ... doing the dishes.'

We are having a dishwasher fitted in our new kitchen so I guess he won't miss me at all after that.

Saturday Photohunt - Music

A bit late and a bit of a cheat as it's a short video.

Rugby games are always preceded by singing led by an army band and a male voice choir. Here we joined in with a well-known Welsh favourite, Delilah.

To take part in Saturday Photohunt, visit tnchick

Just like the Queen

I've decided, while hoovering, to be like the Queen and have two birthdays. Tomorrow will be my unofficial birthday and Husband and Younger Son can decide what we'll eat, shop for and cook it and I'll do nothing.

Going to Old Orleans restaurant for chicken and chips before the rugby does not count as a birthday meal.

I shall remind Husband it's his birthday in a few weeks; he's hoping for some whisky ...

And it's due on

A letter came this morning telling us that our kitchen will be delivered on Friday (same day as Daughter's due date). Fitting starts the following Monday.

Which means I need to begin emptying the kitchen. I haven't really thought much about it as my mind has been elsewhere ...

A good excuse for a clear-out. Maybe.

And the rugby

We went to the Wales Samoa game at the Millennium Stadium last night. The best thing you can say about it is that Wales won.

No, it was okay. I just love going there because there is such anticipation and a feeling of comradeship. We took Younger Son and his Italian girlfriend who'd never been to a rugby game before. She was a delight as she was so excited by everything, and exclaimed in Italian as Samoa came close to scoring a winning try.

But Wales made loads of mistakes and will have to seriously improve before taking on Argentina next week and Australia the week after.

A little inconvenience

I came home from Devon to find the upstairs toilet door missing.

Last weekend, after it had been hanging off its hinges for two years, Husband repaired it. He obviously did a brilliant job as it then fell apart.

This morning I sat on the downstairs toilet and the seat broke.

I'm thinking of going back to Devon ...

My husband, my birthday and the divorce

Why Amazon would think a fat measurer and hair-puller-outer would make good presents 'for the lady in your life' beats me but it convinced Husband.

The epilator (which, in case like me you didn't know, pulls out hairs) had very good reviews apparently. 'And because you can use it in the shower, it doesn't hurt so much,' he said.

The weighing machine not only tells you your exact weight but what percentage of your body is fat, how much fat you have wrapped around your internal organs, your BMI and loads of other things that a woman doesn't want to know on her birthday as she's just about to eat a box of Maltesers.

Other men buy their wives roses.

I will forgive him soon. I expect ...

Oh, yes, and I nearly forgot: my birthday fell on one of our Thrive (circuit training) days. I was driving home from Devon in the afternoon and I told Husband, 'I'm not going to Thrive.'
He said, 'Why not?'
'Because it's my birthday!'
'I'm going. I'll get us fish and chips on the way home if you like.'

Good job Daughter had spoiled me with a lovely breakfast of croissants and home-made jam.

Other men buy their wives roses and take them out for meals.

Home again

In fact I've been home since Thursday evening but I've been too busy to blog. (Too busy to blog? Is that possible?!)I had a lovely few days with Daughter including a trip to the midwife when I heard Baby's heartbeat! The rest of the time I started my Christmas shopping, had a head massage and walked Holly Dog - we had some great adventures in the grounds of the National Trust's Killerton House.

I've discovered I have one leg shorter than the other. It's probably because of circuit training: Jules forgets to tell us we're halfway through and should change legs so, because I always start with the same leg, one of my legs gets exercised more than the other. Hence one is, if not shorter, then certainly stronger.

Which is why I am so good at walking round in circles.

'I'm sure we've seen that tree before, Holly.'

'Isn't that the same tree we just saw?'

'Now this is just getting silly, Holly ...'

Off adventuring

Alun popped in to work this morning. It was just like old times: we drank tea and talked about rugby.

No, actually it wasn't like old times: Alun offered to make tea for me instead of sending me to make it. Mustn't get too sentimental about this!

And now I'm home and eating lunch before heading off on my adventure. I don't usually drive long distances so this (two and three-quarter hours approximately) journey to Daughter's in Devon will be quite a challenge but I have a plan: I will talk to myself to ensure I stay awake.

And I'm going well-prepared for any emergency, so much so that I can hardly lift my bag.

Until the next time, cheerio!