Home again

And with the in-laws' delivery done, it feels like Christmas is starting. In fact I've just realised that Christmas is two weeks tomorrow. Crumbs! That is rather soon.

Thank heavens for Amazon and ebay.

On the way home Husband was grumbling that he was feeling tired: he hadn't slept well the night before. Then he realised that over the course of the last six nights he has slept in five different beds. That can't be good.

Still the journey home was fine - unlike the trip to Derby. It normally takes just under three hours; yesterday it took five and a half.

As we joined the motorway just outside Swansea, we found we were joining a traffic jam. It took us two hours to get to the next junction, where we could come off, turn round, drive back to where we started and take a different route. And there was only a small traffic jam on that one.

Never mind, done now.

A fix of West Wing is called for I believe.

The State Within

Did anyone watch The State Within?

If so, will you please tell me what happened? Has it finished? I watched it, you understand, but I didn't understand. It didn't sound to me as if it were resolved; or was it that the writer couldn't work out how to end it so he left us to make up our own minds?

It would be good to think that the British Ambassador (who must have had less security than anyone in his position should have as he was always popping up somewhere on his own) did the right thing. But if he did that would mean that both the British and the American governments would be shown up for what they were. I think that was what it would mean anyway. Hmmm, a dilemma.

But he was awfully British and decent and brave and honourable. Not the sort of man who will go far these days.

There's even a game here http://www.bbc.co.uk/drama/thestatewithin/game/ where you can be the British Ambassador and save the world!

A bit of a grumble

I've just been to a prayer meeting.

Correction: I just tried to go to a prayer meeting.

For the last few weeks we've had prayer meetings on a Thursday at the church as we've a number of people amongst us who are seriously ill. The last two weeks Husband has come home on Thursday and I've wanted to be here to greet him so I haven't gone. This week he's not home till tomorrow so I went.

I arrived. No cars. No lights. Door locked. This didn't look good. It wasn't as if I were early; I was ten minutes late.

I drove round to my boss's house; her car was missing.

I came home. I'm going to watch Pie in the Sky, which was what I wanted to do anyway. So there.

I'm Church Administrator and I never know what's going on. No-one tells me anything!

And what's more, while I'm in the mood, I'm not happy with Cadburys.

I bought myself - for the first time ever - a chocolate advent calendar. I thought it contained little bits of milk chocolate but it has a variety of fillings. It's the 7th today and I've had two orange bits and two Turkish delight and I like neither of those. So I'm grumbling.

Or is it God's way of telling me I should be on a diet? :)

Santa's Little Helper

For a long time I resisted.

But at last I gave in.

Fed-up with looking like the poor relation when it came to wrapping presents, I started using tasteful paper, matching labels and bows - instead of fat Santa paper, cut-up old card labels and no bows. But somehow, no matter what I do, my sister-in-laws's gifts always look nicer than mine!

It's the added ribbon I suspect. But I am not going to start faffing about with ribbon. Didn't Shirley Conran (Superwoman of my generation) say, 'Life's too short to stuff a mushroom'?

And that reminds me: I watched the Domestic Goddess, Nigella Lawson, last night. Daughter, having the sort of enthusiasm for cooking that I had BeforeChildren, was very excited about it; I was less so having sat through all of Delia's Christmas cooking programmes not that many years ago.

Neither of us had seen Nigella in action before although Daughter uses her recipe book. Haven't found out Daughter's opinion yet but I'm not watching again.

It's not hard to guess what the marketing ploy is. The seductive look up from under the eyelashes, the girlish giggle, the dark tresses falling around her face.

Bring back Delia.

Procrastination

Harvey and I waited for a gap in the weather before we went out today.

Walking next to the river I said to Harvs, 'God is good to stop it raining on us.'

Then I thought:
a) Surely God has something better to do with his time than be my personal meteorologist;
b) Does that mean, when it rains on us - as it often does - that God is mad at me, or that he's in a bad mood?

Naah. So I'll just be grateful that it's dry for now.

Which was just as well as straight after that it poured down on us.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I keep forgetting to mention some good news. Yesterday Younger Son was told that he doesn't have to go to the surgery to have his wound dressed any more as it's better.

I just checked: he had the operation to cut out an abscess at the base of his spine on 30th August! And since then he's had it dressed daily and then every other day.

All he needs now is a job.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Now it can't be put off any longer.

I have to go and wrap some presents.

We're visiting Derby on the weekend delivering the in-laws's Christmas gifts, so I really really have to wrap them now. I've been saying that all week but finding excuses. Sadly, time and excuses have run out.

Unless there's anything you want to ask me ...?

A bit like Harry Potter

A portal has been discovered.

Actually it's been set up, which isn't quite the same, but is almost as exciting. And here's the address http://www.zacsplace.spendandgive.co.uk

What happens if you enter the portal? That's what you're longing to know, I can tell.

You won't go spinning through time or space.
You won't come face to face with Voldemort or Gandalf.
You won't be exterminated by a dalek.
You won't even find a potion that says 'Do not drink'.

But you will help raise money for Zac's Place. At no cost to yourself!

Apparently the portal is a magic little doorway and if you go to another site from it and buy something on that site, it blows fairy dust onto the proprietors who are so happy that they give pennies to Zac's. Or something like that.

And you know what your granny said about pennies. 'Look after the pennies and the pounds will take care of themselves.'

So put the portal in your Favourites and when you're shopping at HMV or Amazon or Marks & Spencers or a whole host of other online retailers, go there from the portal.

And be a fairy this Christmas.

P.S. If you click on the link you'll get some sense about this very excellent scheme.

Donald, where's your trewsers?

My maiden, and my uncle's, name is Williams. Yesterday I ordered - and this morning it arrived - a lambswool scarf in Welsh tartan: the Williams of Wales tartan. No, I didn't know there was one either.

But there is and this is it.

And on a tartan theme, I have to say: I do love a man in a kilt (cilt). I have been known to drool at the sight.

What crappy Christmas gift am I?

You Are Socks!

Cozy and warm... but easily lost.You make a good puppet.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

Make mine a double

Whenever he is asked what he would like for Christmas/his birthday/Father's day, Husband says, 'Whisky.'

He has quite a collection of bottles although he insists that most only have a tiny drop in them - a fact he blames on younger Son, having convinced himself that he couldn't possibly have drunk it all -and that is why he needs more for Christmas. They include his favourites, the smoky, peaty malts from Laphroaig, Lagavulin, Caol Ila and the other Islay distilleries.

As for me, I sit at the other end of the sofa with my glass of water when he drinks them as I can't stand the smell.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

On Shirleen's blog we're discussing words that annoy us or that we mispronounce.

Something that annoys me is modern Bible translations, like The Message, that use unnecessary words. Some things can be more simply stated than in the NIV but with a lot of it, I'm more inclined to the 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it' theory. The language is perfectly clear and beautiful.

Last night, for instance, we were looking at the shepherds in the Christmas story and what did The Message call them? Sheep herders. Now I ask you, who calls them sheep herders? That is change for the sake of change and pointless change at that.

Grumble over.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Astonishment now. I discovered on a website an advert for an essay-writing company. They say, 'Send us the exact question you have to write an essay or dissertation on and we'll guarantee you an essay of 2.1 or first class honours standard.'

Now is it me, or isn't that cheating?

Ten things I'll never do

I was tagged (weeks ago!) by Welshcakes so let's think.

1. Grow old gracefully.

2. Go potholing.

3. Eat a kangaroo's penis (as a contestant on a reality show was challenged to do).

4. Go to a nudist resort.

5. Stop loving my family (that includes Harvey).

6. Get my life organised.

7. Take life or myself too seriously.

8. Go out without eye-liner on.

9. Be able to imagine infinity or eternity.

10. Stop being awed by creation.

I know this month is a really busy time for everybody so I won't pick anyone to tag but say, 'Please, if you'd like to, list ten things you'll never do.'

Today, continued

I want to hug Billy but I am embarrassed. I'm not a hugger. And, also, if I'm honest, there's bit of me that is thinking, 'He's probably not very clean.' And again, I'm a woman and he's a man that I don't know very well, and it wouldn't be appropriate. And, well, I'm not a hugger.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

We had our first card in work today. I would say 'Christmas card' but you'd be hard-pressed to guess its significance. It has an orange and gold picture of The Tree of Life on the front and inside it says, 'Greetings' in eleven languages. I wonder why the Citizen's Advice Bureau bothered.

I am responsible for sending cards from Linden to the various organisations with whom we have links or who use our building; I shall make sure they say very clearly, 'Happy Christmas.' It's what we're celebrating so we shall say so.

One card we receive every year comes from a large (rich) church in the city. And every year it's the same thing: a large, expensive-looking, pre-printed greeting from 'The Pastors and their wives.' I make sure our 'pastors' and their husbands see it.

What it's all about

Billy is an addict.

Drugs certainly and, I guess, alcohol too. A week or so ago he narrowly escaped arrest after the police found him paralytic on the streets. Some girls who knew him slightly told the police he was their dad and they'd look after him.

He doesn't always follow some of the, admittedly surreal, discussions that happen in Zac's, and he makes no bones about it. 'I don't understand; I don't know what the story's about now.' Sean explains it simply, and Billy listens again.

But the thing is: he's got it. The big picture, the little important detail. God's love is for everyone - for every one. He understands that. That's why the shepherds were the first to be told of the birth of Jesus: they weren't important. They didn't have money or education, fame or status. They were ordinary people.

Billy doesn't need to be a theologian to know that. He just knows God loves him.

I tried to photograph the moon tonight

Breakfast, lunch and dinner at Tiffany's

The little black dress, one of three versions made for Audrey Hepburn for her role as Holly Golightly in the classic romantic comedy, Breakfast at Tiffany's, was auctioned today at Christie's. It sold for £410,000.

The money raised will go to the City of Joy Aid charity which helps underprivileged children in India.

It sets a world record for a dress made for a film but the world record for any dress belongs to the white silk evening gown worn by Marilyn Monroe the night she sang "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" to John F. Kennedy in 1962, which fetched $1.27 million at a New York auction in 1999.

Wow! And it's going to a good cause.

A little night exercise

One of the stations on the circuit involves cones set out in a rectangle around the hall. The first side you walk, then jog, then run, and then sprint. Admittedly an onlooker would be hard-pressed to distinguish between my jog, run and sprint, but there is one. Although maybe not on the second circuit.

Anyway there are two of us doing this station and Jules, the trainer, says as I trot past, 'Come on, Liz. Don't let her catch you.'

I surge (push my head further in front) forward and, while slowly expiring, think, 'What am I doing? She's half my age: she should be catching me.'

Pride will be the death of me.

a dilemma

When I was choosing a book for my mother-in-law I just happened to notice that there is a new novel out by one of my favourite frothy writers, Catherine Alliott. I made a mental note to put it on my Christmas list and carried on shopping.

Next stop was the Cancer shop to get my cards and what do I find there - when I just happen to be browsing the books while waiting to be served - but the very same hardback in perfect condition for £2.99 (as opposed to £12.99 new).

Of course I bought it.

The pros:
it saves money;
it helps the cancer charity;
it saves trees.

The cons:
authors (and I would very like to be one) lose out on royalties;
publishers lose money making them meaner and less likely to take on new authors (like me).

Well, what would you have done?

It's not even a good photo!

We all need help

I saw this card in Waterstone's this morning and it made me laugh out loud. I said as much to the man on the pay-desk. He just looked at me.

Christmas comes ...

The first Christmas cards arrived today.

I haven't even bought mine yet.

I'm going to town NOW!

A bit saucy

As we were walking out of prison yesterday morning, Jez, the musician I'd been in with, turned to me and said, 'Do you like dead animals?'
'Um, pardon?'
'Do you like looking at dead animals?'
'Um.'
'Or rather half a dead animal with its guts spilling out.'
I decided that it wasn't me; this conversation wasn't making any sense.

It turned out that a dolphin had been washed up on Pobbles, a local beach.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It's now possible to buy bottles of sauce for dogs. Maybe it's been available in your country for a long time but it's a new thing here. Harvey has dry food and, even though he loved it when he first had it, he's not very keen on it now. We've been mixing it with 'wet' food to encourage him to eat it but with his limited exercise it means we've got to be careful or he'll put on weight.

'No, Harvey, that is the reason .......... No, it's not that we're mean and stingy and trying to starve you .......... You get plenty to eat - without raiding the dustbin!'

Anyway he loves the sauce. It's lip-licking good.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Elder Son, his fiancee and her parents were down for the weekend. The wedding is planned for the spring. Over lunch yesterday, someone asked what we would do with Harvey - the wedding will be in Twickenham - and would we put him in kennels. I said we 'd get someone in to dogsit; Husband said, 'He probably won't be with us by then.'

And Harvey was in the room!

(He's in the hall now so it's all right to whisper this.)

Fortunately Harvs was too busy staring, wide-eyed and hopeful, at fiancee's dad's plate to pick up on this. I'm sure he'd have had something to say otherwise.

I think that he's been much better of late (ignoring his deafness, short-sightedness, persistent barking and incontinence). But the funny turn (mini-stroke?) he had in the early summer came out of the blue so we'll have to wait and see. And just be grateful for each day we have with him.

Even if he does grumble about - well, most things.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

My jigsaw in progress.

Bother, Blogger won't show it. You do wonder where it puts your picture when it says, 'Done', and there's no photo to be seen. Has it appeared on someone else's blog? Is it floating in virtual space waiting for a chance to make its appearance? Has it been swallowed by the Great Picture Eater in the Sky?