Walking in the Shadows

Random musings from Warwickshire on life in general... Things that make me laugh, make me cry, things that wind me up beyond all endurance - and everything in between.

Guess things must be making an impact...

To get a comment about my blog was unexpected, but to be told that the writer of the comment doesn't like what he / she / it reads is just up to them. Simple solution - if you don't like what I write, don't read my blog.

Now that's sorted out, I can get on with the rest of my blog. As you may or may not know, one of my hobbies is horse riding. And I will admit, I've had my share of scares / accidents / injuries over the past few years. Well, it wasn't my turn to go splat.

It was Rachel's turn. Her horse shied at something, and that was it - she was out the back door, and fell back first onto a boulder. Thankfully, she was wearing body armour, but it didn't prevent her being badly injured.

So, I spent a happy time (take that with a very LARGE pinch of salt) at the A&E - in the same room / area where Dad had died. Needless to say, I came very close to freaking out. But freaking out was not an option for me, as I needed to make sure that her sister (who's little girl I am God-mum to) was ok.

Rachel is, as I type this, in hospital recovering from surgery to pin her shoulder back together, and will be in hospital for the New Year. (Much to her disgust!)

Her sister has made me promise that I will take her to the saddler that I use, to make sure that she gets the same body armour as I wear. Ok - I admit it probably wouldn't have prevented the injuries, but it may have prevented them being so serious.

Ah well, that's what you get when you decide to take a hobby that involves dealing with something that has a mind / will of it's own.

Suppose I'd better call this quits - I need to make sure that Rach's operation has gone ok...

Back when I get the chance.

Karen.


Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Just a thought..



If this was used here in the UK, I guess that there would be uproar... But it would bring home the danger of using a hand held mobile phone whilst driving...

And yes - I am quite aware that it has now become a 3 point penalty offence. (Just for the record, you're allowed a maximum of 12 points, then it's a mandatory one-year ban.)

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Bird Bath....



Another American gem...

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

South East Asia Earthquake & Tsunami...

I guess I should mention this, as I will admit, this has had me glued to the 24 hour news channel (BBC News 24 - very imaginative name!)

I was heartbroken to hear that Sri Lanka was hit - this was a place that I had planned on returning to, as I'd enjoyed several family holidays there when I was a lot younger (ok - about 12 years old!) And for once in my life, I am going to give to an overseas charity appeal - as I know that the affected countries need all the help that they can get.

Time to call this quits - I'm being yelled for.

Back whenever..

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Politically correct jokes? I don’t think so.

Just another one of my pet hates. Ok – I agree that there should be limits, but when it comes to humour, there are few boundaries I won’t cross. My trouble is, most of the jokes I know are racist, sexist or down right offensive. Or, as a good friend of mine like to point out – if I’m lucky – all three! If you’re easily offended, skip the rest of this post!

I was given the DVD of the self-proclaimed Australian Bard (also known as Kevin “Bloody” Wilson) He of such classic songs / ballads as She’s the kinda Sheila for me, Santa Claus, DILLIGAF (Do I Look Like I Give A F****) and my personal favourite That f*****g cat’s back.

Suffice to say that I was howling with laughter – especially when he came out with the comment about making PC jokes.

’Cause to me, political correctness has always been a contradiction in terms. If it’s political, it’s a real good chance it’s not correct.” (Or words to that effect!) Needless to say, it has had me in fits of giggles.

There were jokes about fun runs. (Now there’s a contradiction in terms!) It turned out to be a 5k run, which took him 3 days, as there were pubs along the way… “And I didn’t know you weren’t allowed to spend all the money every b’stard had given me.”

The best bit is where he takes a swipe at his fellow countrymen. He asks the drunks in the audience to put their hands up… Only a few people stuck their hands up, so Kevin asks people sitting next to a drunk to put their hands up…. “That’s the Australian attitude – dob your mates in.”

The other thing that’s had me in stitches is a book that Mum gave me for Christmas. It’s called A year in the merde by Stephen Clarke. (And yes – I am quite aware of the title’s translation. French was one subject at school I enjoyed!)

Still, where would this world be, without a sense of humour? In my opinion, it would be a poorer place, especially when you get gems like this sent to you…

http://www.gotlaughs.com/funflash/boobs_hang_low.cfm

And I make no apologies – it’s an old ‘un but a classic!

Time to call this entry quits – I can hear my two furry thugs starting a punch-up with the cats next door…

Back tomorrow.

Karen

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?


The day after the day before...

Christmas. You seem to spend about half the year preparing for the big day, and when it finally arrives, it's almost as if it's a case of is this it? All that work / stress / hassle for this?

Ok - maybe I'm getting cynical in my old age. (And before I get comments - I know I'm only 30, but there have been times when I've felt 130! The morning after my department's Christmas do being one of them! More on that in a later post.)

Having said that, it wasn't too bad - Mum and I had a quiet day - which is what the pair of us really wanted (apart from Dad being with us - but that just goes without saying, really.)

Mum was over the moon with the perfume bottle, and said that it was from a maker that she'd never considered collecting in the past. The foot spa was well received, and Mum put it to the test later in the day, and said that it made her feet feel a lot better.

Me? I got Green Day's new album - American Idiot. I'm listening to it now, and some of the songs are really though provoking - especially Boulevard of Broken Dreams. I will admit - that's one of my favorite tracks, but the rest of the album has the normal guitar riffs and good strong vocals.

The one present that really made me smile was given to me by a guy that I met (ok re-phrase that - got to know better as a person!) at the Christmas do. He gave me a little box that was gift wrapped, and insisted that I waited until Christmas day to open the box, and then call him to let him know what I thought...

He'd bought me a pair of Peridot earrings! They're really unusual, and to say I was speechless was an understatement! I called him as soon as I could, and said that I was really touched, and felt a real rat, because I hadn't gotten him anything.

The reply was something that took me by surprise - "Princess, you don't need to get me anything. You're the only thing that I want for Christmas." Normally, I'd be making comments along the lines of - "Where's the vomit bucket / what are you after, etc"

Needless to say, after that, I was struggling to find words - not something that I usually have problems with - as my friends well know!

Ah well - time to call the entry quits - I'm off to Leek Wooten to see Amber & co...

Back whenever.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

I like this one...



Blame this on American friends - it had me howling...

Karen.


Do Spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

‘Twas the night before Christmas…

Not a creature was stirring – not even a mouse. ‘Cause he was pissed like everyone else!

Sorry. Couldn’t resist that. But it does sum up how I feel about Christmas, simply because we finished work at 12:30, and decamped straight to the pub! I couldn’t drink as I was driving, but thankfully, I wasn’t the only one.

OK – you’d got the stupid ones who were determined to drink as much as they could, before they headed for home but they were few and far between.

It was a really good time, with a whole load of friends & workmates, and it was a case of a few of us realising that we’d still got to get food / present for some obscure relative who was going to be coming to the family home on Christmas day.

Thankfully I wasn't one of them, but I did have a visit to make - to my Godsprog! I told the truth - I'd promised I'd see the little munchkin before Father Christmas (or as Amber calls him - Santa) arrived, and there was no dammed way I was going to break that promise.

I wasn't the only one who was leaving at that time - my line manager was also leaving to keep family commitments, and there was much speculation that the pair of us were sloping off together.

He held his car keys up, and said that he’d got his car, and I did the same, as the last thing either us wanted was for our names to be linked at Christmas! I know it would have been done in good fun, but you always get the odd one or two who wouldn’t be able to let it rest.

Admittedly, I did get a kiss – on the cheek! But no more than that, aside from good wishes to the respective families, and “see you on Wednesday”, as the pair of us are working.

The drive to Leek Wooten was less traumatic than I’d thought it was going to be, and Amber was bouncing ‘round like Tigger® on acid! She was being a real menace at times, and her mother was at her wits’ end…

I soon sorted the problem – I threatened to light the open fire in the living room, and give Father Christmas a hot backside. The poor little mite was running ‘round crying “no hot Santa, no hot Santa!” That made everyone laugh, and her mother murmured that she wished she’d thought of that!

Still, I left the presents for Amber and her little sister (no – not the cymbal set – thankfully, Granddad Peter has taken care of that – he’s taken the drum and cymbal set off the two of us (Amber’s aunt and myself!), so he’ll be the one to get earache, not us!)

I found out that Amber is really into the play kitchen set that her Mum & Dad bought for her birthday, and there were several additional sets that would compliment the original set up. I bought one of the sets, and made sure that Amber was too engrossed to see me hand it over to her Dad.

Elian, (Amber's baby sister) I bought one of the Fisher Price® play sets that goes over the floor mat, and has dangling things that she can hit / spin / chew / annoy the cat with.

I made my excuses and left a couple of hours later - ok they weren't really excuses - I'd still got to wrap Mum's present up, and put the ribbons on the foot spa box.

That and the fact that I knew damned well I’d have Fred trying to play with the ribbon and the sellotape, before he finally ends up with it entangled in his fur!

Ah well, nearly time to call it quits – I can hear Mum’s car pulling up on the drive…


Karen. Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

PS - MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL!!!!

Dealing with Christmas cards

Well, I'm just about finished the Christmas cards. I've sent the e-card to my late father's friends in the USA, and all I've got to do now is post the other three cards (yes - I know I've left it late to post them - but some of us have been busy!)

The hardest bit has been putting the letter inside the card, to let people know what has happened. I will admit, the return cards have reduced Mum & myself to tears on more than one occasion.

Suppose I'd better bring this blog up to date a bit... It's just been a case of trying to find the time and place to put this down onto a keyboard - without getting skinned!

I went on the office Christmas do on Wednesday night - good food, good drink and good company - and a minor hangover the following morning!

Despite that, it was a good night out, and I'm not going to say any more than that, as I don't really want to reveal anything. Well, not yet anyway! *Grin*

I've also been promising a friend of mine, White Wolf, that I would publish a poetry website he publishes on... http://www.allpoetry.com/

He's written some good stuff, and hopefully, I'll be able to talk him into starting his own blog - his outlook on life is very refreshing, and frequently has me howling with laughter when we're on the phone.

Time to call it quits - got stuff around the house to do today.

Back when I get time & peace & quiet!

Karen


Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

A sight we'll be lucky to see again.....

Getting ready to leave...


On the ramp at Brimingham


What a sight! This was taken by a friend of my late father's on the ramp at Birimgham Airport

Another view of Concorde


Farewell old friend

Underside of THAT nose


A ground crew's eye view of the nose...

Side view of the world famous nose


Concorde's world famous nose in the upright position

Nearly down...


Nose down - the only way that the crew can see where they're going!

Welcome to Birmingham International Airport!


Comming into land - welcome to Birmingham old girl!

Here she comes!


Here she comes... Concorde's arrival at Birmingham International Airport on her farewell flight.

Shots of Concorde on her farewell tour - Birmingham International Airport - 20/10/2003


Concorde on the ground at Birmingham Airport

A few pictures that I found digging around my hard drive... Forgot I had these shots! I'll publish more as I track them down..

For more images & tech spec, etc on this beautiful aircraft, please see http://www.concordesst.com/home.html

Karen

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Getting into the Christmas spirit? I think not.

I'm starting to dread the annual ritual of writing the Christmas cards to people. The family are ok, as they obviously know what's happened, but it's people that we (Mum & I) haven't seen / spoken to since last year that are worrying me.

Why? Because Mum & I are going to have to compose a letter to enclose with the cards, and let people know what has happened - and then wait for the 'phone calls, which I know damned well will upset Mum, as well as me... But I've already had one freak out episode in this so-called season of goodwill already....

I know this will sound crazy, but I had a minor crack up episode on Friday (after I'd posted to my blog.) I wasn't feeling very sociable at lunch-time, and rather than face having to try and make small talk with colleagues over sandwiches / soup and other lunches, I made a choice, that with hindsight, probably wasn't the smartest thing I could have done.

I went to the Crem and "spoke" to Dad. I was ok, until I read one of the Christmas cards that had been left in the Chapel of Remembrance. It was to a Beloved Father, and spoke of how the sender may not have seemed appreciative of his / her father, but that they always knew that they could rely on them when they needed support.

That was it. I burst into tears, and God knows how I managed to drive back to the office. I think that someone must have been looking after me on that drive, and when I got back into the office, my colleagues were concerned, as I looked a wreck.

My mascara had run (I wasn't wearing the waterproof mascara that I'd bought for Dad's funeral - brilliant stuff by Bourjois - it's called Plump up the Volume Waterproof in Brun Solis), and my eyes were all red and puffy.

Thankfully, I was left alone, but I'll say one thing for my colleagues - they all made sure I was ok - including my boss, who was worried about me driving home Friday night.

Admittedly, I wasn't going straight home - as Friday was my Godsprog's birthday, I had to make an appearance. But, I will admit, I was really glad that I did make the effort and go.

The look of delight on Amber's face when she saw the space hopper was something that really made me feel a lot brighter. Not to mention the glee with which she took to the space hopper - and started chasing the family cat!

So, I got home and saw that Mum had left me a note as she was working the late shift... We'd ordered a mower back in September.... Only for the company whom we'd ordered it from to say that they couldn't get the mower, and neither could Mountfield themselves!

So, Mum had the money refunded to her, and the note asked if I could go into Stratford to the mower place on Western Road (Simms) to sort one out - she's already reserved it, and all I needed to do was take the payment into them, and sort out the delivery.

Thanks. I was trying to avoid going out at the weekend, as I've done all my Christmas shopping (smug grin). Ok - I've still got to get one thing - my Secret Santa gift.

For those people (un)lucky enough to avoid this ritual, it basically involves everyone in the office writing their name on a piece of paper, and then someone else drawing it out of the bowl and scampering off to celebrate or drown their sorrows - depending on who they managed to get. But, I digress.

Simms was easy to get to, and get parked. The fun came when I had to pull out of Western Road. Those people who know Stratford-Upon-Avon will know the place that I'm talking about - it's just off the main drag up to the Tesco Superstore.

Which means that the only way to get out onto the main road, is take a chance and push your way out. Or, you could always wait for some kind motorist to let you out.

But, at this time of year, they are few and far between, especially when they've realised that Auntie Mavis is comming for pre-christmas drinks, and will only drink Bristol Cream sherry - which is the one drink that isn't kept in the house!

So, it was a case of speak softly - use airhorns - which had I been driving the Toyota, I would have done. But the Peugeot doesn't do too badly - especially not when the horn is followed with verbal abuse and / or appropriate hand gestures!

Once out onto the Birmingham road (the main drag), I tried to get past the hoards heading to Tesco and the Maybird shopping centre (which has a vaiety of stores from B&Q to Next and Halfords.)

For some reason, the great British motorist seems to take offence when they get the impression that someone might be trying to get ahead of them! They were all turning right - all I wanted to do was go straight on! I lost count of the dirty looks that I got, simply because I seemed to be moving through the traffic faster than I should have done.

Ah well, suppose I'd better log off & bog off - I've got to get the rest of my Christmas cards written...

Bah Humbug!

Back later - if I haven't gotten writer's block!

Karen

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

A bit of a rough patch...

Somehow, I've managed to duplicate a couple of orders for a couple of the accounts that I work with. To be honest, I'm somewhat embarrassed about this, as it's the first time that I've made such a mistake. My colleagues have told me not to worry, as it's "just one of those things", but that doesn't make me feel any brighter, as I feel that I've let myself down..

Still, I shouldn't be too downbeat - I'm off out tonight to see an old friend. No - not my ex - but a fella who knows just what to do to cheer me up - and make me smile in the process. Including sending me silly jokes whilst I'm at work - along the lines of:

Vodka & Red Bull Christmas cake
Ingredients:
1 cup water
1 cup brown sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
Nuts
1 bottle vodka
I can Red Bull
2 cups dried fruit

Method: 1. Sample the vodka to check the quality
2. Take a large bowl and sample the vodka again
3. To be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and mix with a little Red Bull and drink
4. Repeat
5. Turn on the electric mixer, beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl
6. Add teaspoon of sugar. Beat again.
7. At this point, it is best to make sure that the vodka is still ok.
8. Flavour with Red Bull to taste.
9. Try another cup just in case, turn off the mixerer.
10. Break to leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the dried fruit.
11. Pick fruit off the floor.
12. Mix on the turner.
13. If the dried fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry it loose with a drewscriver.
14. Shample the vodka for tonsistency, flavour with a little Bed Rull.
15. Next ssiffft two cups of salt. Or something. Who gives a ***t.
16. Throw a pinch of Bed Rull over your shoulder.
17. Pick up can, mop floor.
18. Check the vodka.
19. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
20. Add one table.
21. Add a shpoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.
22. Turn the cake tin 350 degrees and try not to fall over.
23. Don't forget to beat off the turner.
24. Finally, throw the bowl through the window, finish the vodka and kick the dog.
25. Fall into bed.

CHERRY MISTMASS


Ah well, suppose I'd better get on with some work....

Back later - if I get chance.

Karen.
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Short staffed, and short voiced....

We've got a whole load of people off sick / on holiday today, and I'm losing my voice. Still, guess it could be worse - I could still look like Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer!


But, having said that, the weekend was quite good, as I managed to get all of my Christmas shopping done - including getting my Godsprog's birthday and Christmas presents. The little munchkin is getting a space hopper for her birthday - that way, she can chase the family cat to her heart's content...


Christmas.... Me being malevolent, I've bought her the cymbal set to match her drum set that her aunt has bought her for Christmas. Her mother is going to skin the pair of us, but I think she may forgive me.... Eventually. *Grin*


Having said that though, I know that Amber will appreciate the pressies - and will take great delight in driving her family barmy!


Mind you, I picked this little gem up from the company newsletter....


A Christmas Story

It was Christmas Eve, and the excitement and anticipation of the night ahead, was so close you could almost taste it. Kitchens all over were infused with the heady scent of mince pies oozing with brandy butter. Children were hanging their stockings on the chimney breast hoping that tomorrow they would be stuffed beyond their wildest dreams (the stockings, not the children!?!).

So what tragic irony that amidst such seasonal goodwill, Father Christmas, the man who shoulders the burden of all our Christmas expectations should be having such a torrid time.

Mrs Christmas wasn't speaking to him as she'd discovered she was getting perfume for the 10th year running. The Elves were complaining that they had not been paid for the overtime they'd put in while making the toys for the world's children.

The reindeer had found a bottle of cherry brandy at the back of the cupboard and had taken the sleigh out for a spin, crashed it into a tree and were now rolling around laughing hysterically and telling silly jokes.

Poor Father Christmas was at the end of his tether. "I CAN'T believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours from now and my reindeer are drunk, my elves are on strike, the wife's in a strop and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that silly Little Angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he still hasn't come back yet!"

Just then the Little Angel, all aglow with heavenly goodness, opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging an enormous, lush Christmas tree behind him. The little Angel looked up at Father Christmas with shining eyes and spake forth: "Where would you like me to stick this, Father Christmas???"

And thus it came to pass, in homes the whole world over, the tradition of an Angel perching precariously atop the Family Christmas tree. Sure to bring a tear to even the most unfeeling eye!


Suppose I should think about doing some work, instead of blogging..


Back later - if I get the chance...


Karen.
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Why can’t I sleep?

It’s crazy. I’m too wired to sleep, and I will admit, my brain cell has been racing, trying to work out the reasons why. I think the main reason is because I didn’t want to admit to myself how wound up I’d been about my review.

I know this sounds crazy, (and those people who know me will no doubt agree with me) but I was really worried. My boss was really pleased with me, and said that it was one of the easiest reviews that he’d had to do. (Guess I must be doing something right then!)

But, I know that I have no room for complacency, and in a way, I think I was sub-consciously prepping myself for a real kicking.

So, rather than lie in bed, feeling frustrated, as there is bugger all on TV worth watching (I refuse point blank to watch I’m a celebrity – get me out of here! – For those people who haven’t heard of / seen it – believe me, you’re not missing much!) I decided to do some updates for my blog.

I admit that I've not been updating it as much as I would like to, but given that my workload over the past few weeks or so has been horrific, I’ve hardly had chance to think straight, and when I get home, the last thing I want to do, is sit in front of a computer again!

As I type this entry, I must be a real glutton for punishment. I’m listening to a variety of music that I’ve copied onto my computer (ah, the joys of a 120 GB hard disk), and one of the songs is Eurythmics – Thorn in my side.

I will admit, it does remind me an awful lot of the way I’ve ended up feeling about my ex-fiancé. It talks about feeling emotionally overpowered by someone else, and that the only option left to the singer is to get the hell out of the relationship. See what you make of it…

Thorn in my side
Eurythmics
[spoken] You gave me such a bad time
[spoken] Tried to hurt me
[spoken] But now I know

Thorn in my side
You know that’s all you ever were
A bundle of lies
You know that it’s all that it was worth

I should have known better
But I trusted you at first
I should have know better
But I got what I deserved

To run away from you
Was all that I could do
To run away from you
Was all that I could do
To run away from you
Was all that I could do
To run away from you
Was all that I could do

Thorn in my side
You know that’s all you’ll ever be
So don’t think you know better
‘Cause that’s what you mean to me

I was feeling complicated
I was feeling low
Now every time I think of you
I shiver to the bone

To run away from you
Was all that I could do
To run away from you

Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run
Run, run, run, run

To run away from you
Was all that I could do
To run away from you
Was all that I could do


Don’t get me wrong – I don’t regret getting involved with him the first time, but I should have listened to my gut instincts and stayed away when we first split up, instead of allowing myself to be talked into giving the relationship another try. Crazy I know, but again, another song sums up how low I was feeling towards the end of the relationship…

The Rasmus
The One I Love



Haven't slept in a week
My bed has become my coffin
Cannot breath, cannot speak
My head's like a bomb, still waiting
Take my heart and take my soul
I don't need them anymore

The one I love
Is striking me down on my knees
[The one I love] Drowning me in my dreams
[The one I love] Over and over again

Dragging me under

Hypnotized by the night
Silently rising beside me
Emptiness, nothingness
Is burning a hole inside me
Take my faith and take my pride
I don't need them anymore

The one I love
Is striking me down on my knees
Drowning me in my dreams
[The one I love] Over and over again
[The one I love] Dragging me under


This bed has become my chapel of stone
A garden of darkness to where I'm thrown
So take my life, I don't need it anymore

The one I love

Is striking me down on my knees
The one I love

Drowning me in my dreams
The one I love
Over and over again

Dragging me under

All I can say is thank God I got out before I married him – otherwise I would be in a bigger mess than I am now. Admittedly, I’m single and more than happy with that situation (despite what people may think – I don’t need to be arm candy for some fella – been there, done that and got the battle scars thank you very much!)

Ah well, suppose I'd better call this entry quits - I've got to be up and around in a few hours - I'm going Christmas shopping.

Back later - if I'm not too bumped, bruised and battered from the trip!

Karen.


Do spiders scream when they see a bug fat hairy human in the bath?

Getting fed up..

Yes, I'm getting fed up. I'm supposed to have been through my annual review, and as you may have guessed, I'm getting fed up. Ok - I admit that I'm not that desperate to go through this review, but I'd rather get it over and done with, instead of having it hanging over me.

Every time my boss says "Oh, Karen, I'll do your review with you this afternoon" you can guarantee that something will go wrong, or one of us will be called away for a meeting.

Still, at least I know I can't be doing too badly, otherwise I would have been hauled over hot coals by now, or had my ears chewed off. But, despite that, I know that I've got no real room to be complacent....

The other thing that I'm getting fed up with, is the mere fact that I can't drive. No - I've not been banned (frantically looking round for a piece of wood to grab hold of!) I've damaged my shoulder - again.

So, I spent four dratted hours at Warwick Hospital, and have been put back into a sling, and am dosed up to the eyeballs on painkillers... Still - should make having a drink a lot more fun - it'll take me less to get plastered!

Ah well, suppose I'd better get on with some work...

Back when I get the chance...

Karen.
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

I wish!



Wishful thinking at the moment! (Or more to the point, until I get the car run in properly!)

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Another week begins...

And I'm knackered! Add to that, the mere fact that my shoulder feels like there's some little demon sitting inside, carving its initials and other intricate drawings in the joint tissue and you get an idea of the reason why I'm feeling like this.

I must look & sound pretty rough, as my boss asked me if I was ok this morning, as "you're not as chirpy as normal." For him to notice, I must be flat!

But, I'm going to see the doctor tomorrow, and that way, I can make sure that I haven't done anything major to the joint. Still, at least I can still type (and update my blog!)..

The weekend was quiet, and Mum and I went to Bridgemere Garden World near Nantwich. Mum drove, as her car needed to get a proper run, and my shoulder wasn't 100% pain-free. We got parked, only to discover that Santa had arrived just before us, so the place was full of spoilt little brats.

Needless to say, neither of us were very impressed, as the pair of us have very little time for kids. Don't get me wrong - I do have time for kids - but not when they're screeching little b'stards, with no manners.

But, thankfully, the bits that Mum and I were interested in were well away from the screeching hoard. I treated Mum to a double flowered cyclamen, and a couple of amaryllis bulbs, as they're the sort of plants that she grows. Me? I bought myself a fern that will cope with drafts, and needs the compost to be kept wet, so that will survive on my desk (hopefully).

That reminds me - I did promise to keep this blog updated with progress reports on the cuttings... Well, the good news is, that they've all taken and there are now little Tradescantias all over the office - including on the boss's desk!

There have been jokes about me trying to turn the office into a greenhouse, but for me to do that, I really need to get a decent heating / ventilation system installed - then I could grow my real passion - Carnivorous Plants.

Yes - the things that eat meat - along the lines of the infamous Venus Fly-Trap in the classic musical - Little Shop of Horrors. (The plant was called Audrey II - the most memorable line from the plant was "feed me!")

Hmm - suppose I ought to call this entry quits, as it's nearly time to log off & bog off...

Back tomorrow - possibly.

Karen.
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Back to the posts....

Trying to get a little bit of time to post for my blog has been a real nightmare at the moment! I've been on a training course for the earthmover & industrial tyres, and all I've really managed to do is re-affirm my first thought that the tyres tend to be big and expensive.

But, it's also given me another idea about what I would like to specialise in... Aircraft & related tyres. Ok - suppose I'd better explain that leap in logic. Aircraft tyres are considered as industrial tyres, and given my background (I grew up with aircraft as a result of Dad's job. Most kids played with toy spanners - I played with the real thing!) it would be rather interesting...

However, my other great love is motor sport. So, at this moment in time, I'm torn between heading off into the motor sport realm, or going into a similar field as my late father.

But, no doubt the people here will be able to guide me, and I know which ever route I decide to scamper off down, Mum will give me her full support - as she said that the main thing in life, is that I'm happy in my work.

Hmm - suppose I'd better call this entry quits, and get some work done...

Back later - if I get the chance.

Karen.

Do spiders scream if they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

I thought I'd recovered... Mother Nature says I haven't!

And boy, doesn't the old bitch make you suffer for it! I damaged my right shoulder back in April (I managed to rupture the rotor cuff in the shoulder. That's the bit that holds the arm to the body - and when you damage it - it makes life v. painful - not to mention awkward!) and now it's really hurting.

It's almost as if ol' Ma Nature has decided that I've had an easy time of things just recently, and has decided to give me some real pain.

Still, there are such magical things as Wheaties - these are just material sacks with specially treated wheat gains in them, that you can put into the microwave, and heat up. I find it's incredibly beneficial, especially as I can sit at my desk, and enjoy the heat and relief that it provides.

Time to go and heat the wheatie.....

Back later - if workload allows!

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

More warped humour...

Again, this came in from the USA, and was sent to me by an American...

The new Homeland Security Bill has passed. Things will be different now. Internet surfing will be tracked by the FBI with a non-intrusive method. The FBI says you will not notice anything different. Click below for a demonstration.

Unobtrusive?!?!? Find out by clicking the website below:

http://users.chartertn.net/tonytemplin/FBI_eyes

I will admit, I had an awful lot of fun playing with this.................................

Suppose I should get on with some work....

Back later (possibly)

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Scaring myself stupid

Not something that I do very often, but messing around with the seetings on my blog, I managed to wipe out all the formatting! EEK! Thankfully, I was able to restore it, but it's made me a little bit more aware about messing with HTML - and I'm now going to see if I can beg/borrow/copy a decent HTML editor...

Time to call this quits for tonight - I need my ugly sleep.

Back tomorrow.

Karen.


Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Totally addicted to frogs...

No, I haven't lost the plot (although there have been times when I have wondered about this today!) I've signed up to an addictive new game that a friend of mine was good enough to e-mail me about.. It's called Racing Frogs (for more information, see http://www.racingfrogs.org/)

It appeals to my very warped sense of humour, and I've got two frogs entered.. One is called Froghopper, and the other is known as heartoffrog...


Time to call this entry quits - got to train my frogs!

Back tomorrow.

Karen.


Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Presidential elections and other matters of importance

To be honest, I'm heartily sick of the American election. So the incumbent president won. Big deal. Ok - maybe it is a big deal for the Americans, but please, spare those of us who have no interest in American politics whatsoever..

I mean, for the past three days, the news has been overtaken by the election, and all the subsequent analysis that goes with it. If there are people so obsessed with this, put the coverage on a separate channel, and leave the rest of the news for those of us who have no interest in American politics. Ok - that's that particular rant over and done with.

Now onto another rant... I read on BBC on-line that an a fellow blogger - Queen of the Sky (see http://queenofsky.journalspace.com/) has been fired (ok - in the spirit of political correctness - her contract has been terminated) by her employer. (See http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/3974081.stm)

I personally feel that this is taking the matter to an extreme - and yes - I do believe in free speech - so long as you're not causing offence to your employer, and there is nothing in your contract to say that you can't mention what you do for a living. (Especially if you do most of your posting from your desk!!)

I mean, it would be a bit daft if you were working for one of the security agencies, and were blabbing secrets that could cause people to lose their lives or cause real problems for national / international security... I guess that the cautionary tale from Queen of the Sky's unfortunate situation, is avoid mentioning your employers by name...

Those people who know me, know who I work for, but I refuse point blank to name the company, simply because I know that they (the powers that be) are just a little bit sensitive about being shown in a grotty light by a disgruntled employee.

Not that I'm disgruntled - far from it. I enjoy working here, and the mere fact that I get to deal with everything from standard (and not so standard) cars right through to the big 44 tonne wagons is a bonus, as I am, by my own admission, a petrol head.

On to a little bit of world news- there's been a news flash that says "Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat has fallen into a coma at the French hospital where he is under treatment, Palestinian officials confirm." God alone knows what will happen to the Palestinian people when he dies, as he's been in power for as long as most people of my generation can remember.

All that the rest of the world can hope, is that there is minimal infighting,and that the new leader is acceptable to the Israeli government of the time, and that they can resolve their differences - without resorting to bloodshed.

I know that this blog is slightly out of character for me, as I rarely mention world events, but there are some events that need to be commented on - and to Queen of the Sky - I salute you - and wish you all the luck in the world with your fight for unfair dismissal. 'Cause if it happens to one blogger, what's to stop 'Big Brother' tactics being used by other employers against us bloggers?!

Back later - if I get the chance....

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Bringing sprogs into the office...

Is not a good idea, as far as I'm concerned. I have all the maternal instincts of a rattlesnake. (If the female meets its offspring, it has the tendency to eat them - sounds pretty good to me!) All the women seem to coo over the sprog, and I'm treated with suspicion, as I make it plain that I have very little time for babies and small children in general.

Don't get me wrong, I do have time for kids - just not in the workplace. Why do I say this? Simple, because muggins here is the one who ends up doing most of the work whilst the others coo over the sprog, who looks terrified, and obviously wishes it was elsewhere! Still - can't blame the kid - I feel the same way sometimes...

Ah well, suppose I'd better look like I'm working - especially as I'm not cooing over the sprog....

Back later, if I get chance.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Getting to grips with the new car...

I never realised just how much fun the Peugeot could be... It handles like a dream, and now that I've got the automatic lights sorted out (I didn't know that you had to activate the dratted things - the Peugeot 307 had them activated at the factory!) the car is perfect.

To be honest, I did wonder if I'd made a mistake when I bought the Yaris, but having spoken to the service manager at Arbury Peugeot, I now realise that the Yaris was the right choice of car for me - at the time when I bought it (2000).

Driving the car to Malvern (I went to the Giant Flea Market at the Three Counties Showground), was a real treat.

I discovered the Pug has a tenancy to oversteer (i.e. it tries to whip the back end 'round on a corner) which is totally the opposite to the Yaris - which was prone to understeer (i.e. it tries to go straight on in a corner.) No wonder I used to knacker my front tyres on that car!

The market itself was really good, and I spent over four hours wandering around, seeing what was what... I will admit, I splashed out on a couple of pieces - one was a sterling silver cross, with 5 peridots in it, and a test piece from Cobridge pottery. Again, that was something that Dad taught me about and as it wasn't wildly expensive, I decided to buy it...

But only after much deliberation on my part, as I was unsure about the colours. But the more I thought about the piece, the more I realised that I wanted it....

All in all, it was a good weekend, and I learnt an awful lot about the car, and I know that it's going to be one hell of a car when it's run in properly!

Suppose I should get on with some work.....

Back later - if I get the chance...

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Feeling slightly guilty...

I know this sounds crazy, especially as I picked my new car up today, but I feel like I've betrayed an old friend. My previous car (a Toyota Yaris) had done 58k miles with me, and had been blasted all over the UK.. And yes, I knew and loved all the quirks - including the transmission whine that I used to get at 56 mph...

Despite that, the 206 is a cracking little car to drive, and I can see me having an awful lot of fun with it, and this time, I'm not going to allow anyone to smoke in my car AT ALL - regardless of whether they're my friend or not.

Simply because the Yaris suffered damage that was smoking related, and caused me no end of grief with my family because I don't smoke, and I was (and still am) unwilling to reveal the person responsible.

Time to call it quits - I've got to give the appetite on legs his worming pill.... Wish me luck, as this may be one hell of a long night!

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Messing with my head

No, I've not been indulging in illegal substances - it's what my ex-fiance is doing to me. He had a song, Hoobastank: - The Reason, dedicated to me.

Hoobastank The Reason

I'm not a perfect person
As many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
And the reason is you

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you


So, you can imagine how I felt, when I heard that! Especially as the message said that the song was dedicated to the only girl he ever really loved! ARRGH! *Moment of panic!*

That's the last thing I need at this moment in time - as life seems to be improving, and I'm more than happy on my own for the moment.

If I decide to hook up with someone, I can guarantee that he'll be the last person that I would consider - he made a mess of me the last time, and I'll be damned before I'll let him have another attempt!

I told my best mate what my ex had done, and was told in no uncertain terms that I would be a fool to even consider getting back with him.

I know he's right, and I'm refusing to answer my 'phone when he calls me, and on the odd occasion that he calls me at home, it's amazing how often I'm out!

Still, that's just one advantage of sounding like Mum on the 'phone - I can avoid talking to people that I don't want anything to do with!

Time to call this entry quits - I'm starting to get a bit upset...

Back later.

Possibly.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

More news on Silverstone....

This is what the reports on the BBC (http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/motorsport/default.stm) have to say...

Silverstone eyes unofficial race [21.10.04]

Silverstone bosses say they may be interested in staging a breakaway British Grand Prix next season.

The Northamptonshire circuit faces being axed from the 2005 F1 calendar. Alex Hooton, chief executive of track owners the British Racing Drivers' Club, said he had heard suggestions about a new, non-championship race.

"That would have attractions as we wouldn't have to pay the fees to Formula One, but there is nothing definite," he told BBC Radio Five Live.

It is not clear whether any of the ten teams competing in the F1 championship would enter such a race, or how it would fit into their calendar.

But Hooton said the BRDC is still focused on trying to keep a British Grand Prix on the F1 calendar, despite supremo Bernie Ecclestone announcing discussions to save the race were over.
"We have to admit defeat and end the discussions," Ecclestone said on Wednesday. "It looks certain there will not be a British GP in 2005."



F1 teams to lobby for Silverstone [22.10.04]

Silverstone has been named on the provisional calendar for 2005Formula One team bosses will try to persuade F1 supremo Bernie Ecclestone to keep the British Grand Prix when they meet in Brazil on Friday.

"There's a meeting and I'm sure it will be an issue for discussion," said BAR chief David Richards.

But he added: "The teams do not have the influence of where we race that one might assume we do. We can obviously talk to him and try to persuade him but the reality is it's his decision alone."

Richards, speaking ahead of the Brazilian GP at Interlagos, added: "The commercial rights are completely with Bernie Ecclestone and his companies and he determines where the races take place."

Ecclestone has said he has ended negotiations on the future of the race after talks broke down with the British Racing Drivers' Club, which owns the Silverstone circuit.

The BRDC wants a two-year contract with a five-year extension, while Ecclestone has offered a one-year contract with an option to extend by six years.

BRDC boss Sir Jackie Stewart said the deal Ecclestone had offered featured 10% compounded annual interest "which would double the price after seven years - this is unaffordable".
Britain is one of three races, alongside France and San Marino, given provisional dates for next season pending the resolution of contract issues.

Silverstone has been given a date of 3 July on next year's draft schedule but a commercial deal must be agreed before the race is confirmed.

A final calendar is due to be issued on 10 December.

All I can say is:- "Please Bernie - don't betray the UK petrolheads!"

Back later - possibly.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

More information on the British GP fight...

The British Grand Prix saga is far from over, despite Bernie Ecclestone's claim that it "looks certain" the race will not happen next year.

Ecclestone says he has broken off talks with Silverstone's owner the British Racing Drivers' Club, but with the 2005 calendar not published until 10 December there is still plenty of time for a deal to be made.

So what is behind Ecclestone's latest salvo in one of Formula One's longest-running battles?

WHAT IS ECCLESTONE'S PROBLEM?

He wants there to be a British Grand Prix, but at a track that matches his high standards and at his price.

Unlike the new venues in Malaysia, China and Bahrain, Silverstone is not funded by a government so cannot afford to spend hundreds of millions on lavish facilities.

Nor can the BRDC afford to run the race at a loss, which it says is what would happen if it accepted Ecclestone's current offer.

DOES ECCLESTONE DECIDE THE RACE'S FATE?

Yes. He owns the promotional rights to the race, and in his role as F1's commercial supremo, organises the calendar. If he wants to drop it, he can.

DOES HE HAVE A HIDDEN AGENDA?

Ecclestone is exasperated with the BRDC - but the feeling is mutualAlmost certainly, but no-one knows what it is.

Many believe he wants to end up controlling the British GP at Silverstone, or even owning the track, which he denies.

The issue is not helped by a long-held antagonism between Ecclestone and the BRDC, the roots of which are lost in the mists of motor racing history.

Ecclestone and BRDC president Jackie Stewart have also had a difficult relationship for at least three decades.

WHEN IS THE DEADLINE FOR A RESOLUTION?

The official 2005 F1 calendar is published on 10 December, but even if Silverstone is not on that list, its fate is not necessarily sealed - last year the French Grand Prix was not confirmed until January.

HOW CAN SILVERSTONE SECURE ITS GRAND PRIX?

The BRDC needs to seal a deal for the promotional rights to the race, which are owned by Ecclestone following the decision of US company Interpublic to extricate itself from its loss-making motorsport business.

The issues holding up progress boil down to the length and price of the contract. Ecclestone will want any deal to include provision for the improvement of the Silverstone site.

Some say the BRDC could help itself a bit more by developing its massive grounds, either with a new track, or into a multi-use area generating income, rather than just as a racetrack and driving school.

This is an approach favoured by the Nigel Mansell-backed Brand Synergy consortium, to which the BRDC has given a cool response so far.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ECCLESTONE'S OFFER?

The BRDC wants a two-year deal followed by talks over the next five seasons, while Ecclestone is offering a one-year deal with an option on the following six.

Silverstone's large crowds are not enough to cover Ecclestone's fee. The BRDC says Ecclestone's offer does not give it the security it needs to embark on a major redevelopment of Silverstone; Ecclestone says it is non-negotiable.

Another major sticking point is Ecclestone's asking price for the race.

Although he has reduced the fee for 2005, the deal calls for 10% compounded interest over the next seven years, which the BRDC says it cannot afford.

The only revenue a host track can generate is through ticket sales. All other monies from the staging of an F1 Grand Prix are trousered by Ecclestone.

Ecclestone is offering the BRDC the cheapest contract in F1, but even at this price the club says it cannot afford to pay without risking bankrupting itself.

SHOULD THE GOVERNMENT HELP FINANCIALLY?

Depends on your point of view.

The "No" camp would say a shortfall of a couple of million seems like small beer but that is just the thin end of the wedge - fork out this year and next year Ecclestone increases the price a bit more and so on.

Governments in places like China, Malaysia and Bahrain are funding Grands Prix as a promotional tool, but for how long? Britain doesn't need to do that and critics would argue that the money would be better spent elsewhere.

The "Yes" camp would say the race is a vital cog in the future of the British motor industry and the sport's heritage, not to mention the UK's credibility for hosting events such as the Olympics.

And if the government can back a multi-million-pound 2012 Olympic bid for a two-week event, why not a race that happens every year?

But the government says it has already pumped £16m into the motor industry and £8m into the circuit to improve access and facilities.

COULD THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX GO ANYWHERE ELSE?

Not really. Donington Park in Leicestershire is the closest in terms of facilities but is still a long way off.

A race around the streets of London would take several years to be finalised, even if the anticipated mass protest over traffic, cost and noise pollution it would spark from residents of the capital could be overcome.

WHY SHOULD BRITAIN HOLD A GRAND PRIX?

It's an image and heritage thing.

Britain is the centre of the world's motorsport industry - although it is highly unlikely that the F1 teams based in the south-east would leave the UK if the country lost its race.

And the race's supporters argue that a major political and economic power and a proud sporting nation should be able to stage a Grand Prix once a year.

Britain is also one of only two countries to have held a Grand Prix every year since the inception of the F1 world championship - the other being Italy.

Fans say losing Silverstone, one of the last remaining classic tracks, along with Spa, Monza, Suzuka and Monaco, would render the sport soulless.

These older tracks, they say, often produce better racing than the modern computer-designed autodromes. And if all races are held on similar tracks with the same team and driver winning, the argument is that viewers will eventually switch off.

IS THIS TO DO WITH A TOBACCO AD BAN?

Probably not. There is likely to be a worldwide ban at some stage and teams will have to find the money in other ways.

They already use liveries which resemble cigarette brands without actually stating what they are and even are looking into developing this idea further when a tobacco ban does come into force.

Getting to grips with being 30.....

Isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. OK - I get the occasional crack about my age, but on the whole, I don't feel any different. Admittedly, I do miss Dad, and I guess that it will take a while for that to subside, but on the whole, my family have been very supportive.

The samosas went down a storm, and within an hour, all that was left were a few crumbs! So, I guess that they must have been good! Me? I munched a couple of them, and as they were a good size, decided to skip the lunch at the pub, as I would be too full to contemplate working this afternoon. Mind you, I very often don't feel like working on a Friday afternoon anyway!

On a different note, I've had some really good news. I've got a date to collect my new car! It's going to be next Friday, and I've been able to book the afternoon off, in order to collect it! I will admit, that I'll be sorry to see my little green flyer, but I know that I can't keep hearking back to the past, as I'll never be able to move on with my life.

Time to call it quits - got paperwork that needs attending to...

Back later.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Another year, another birthday..

From all the fuss that is made about turning 30, you would expect to wake up feeling totally different - more mature somehow. But, the only thing that I feel this morning, is knackered! Simply because I got a 'phone call at 05:00 from some horrible person who shall remain nameless (you know who you are, as you read my blog!)

But, despite that, it has been a good start to the day, as I got to my desk, only to have found that my colleagues had decorated my desk with banners proclaiming my age! Thanks - as if I needed reminding. But, despite that, it was done in good humour and it's a nice touch.

There's also the tradition of bringing munchies into the office... I've obliged by a small box of Thorntons toffee, but as one of the girls is leaving tomorrow, we both said that it was pointless bringing in two lots of munchies on two consecutive days. So we're doing a double munch tomorrow - we're going to order 100 vegetable samosas from a local shop that will deliver to the office.

Time to call it quits - got 'phone calls to make.

Back later...

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Tired - and I don't know why!

It's not as if I've pulled many late nights recently. If anything, I was flat out last night, before the end of Mastermind! I seem to recall waking about 23:30, squinting at my alarm clock, and then going back to sleep.

But, I had a slight lie-in this morning (I was up at about 07:30, instead of 06:30), so I guess that could explain the reason why I'm tired -too much sleep instead of too little! The reason why I managed the lie in, was because for three days this week, I'm working from 09:30 to 17:30.. The other two days, I work (or rather attend) between 09:00 and 17:00...

As I promised in a previous post, the cuttings that I took from my Tradescantia are thriving, as are the other plants. The only one that seems to refuse to do as I want, is the gloxinia - the damned thing just won't die down - even though I'm refusing to water it!

Having said that though, the other plants are thriving, even if my Sinderpuss did look a bit sorry for itself when I brought it in to the office... But, once I'd given it a damned good drink, it perked up no end!

Rats - being summoned to a meeting..

Back later.

Karen.
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

There's something about Sundays...

That seem to bring out the worst in British drivers. Take for instance, the idiot that insists on breaking at the slightest kink in the road - and it's not even what I would call a slight bend! Then when you get a spot where you can safely overtake, the idiot puts the power on, and accelerates!

As you can tell, I had one of those in front of me this morning, as I had to nip out to get some bits (milk, cat food, a paper, etc) and I wasn't speeding for once - I was traveling at about 55mph... (The speed limit on the road I was traveling along is 60mph). But, unfortunately for me, I got the classical Thou shalt not pass - 40 mph is my limit.

So, I waited patiently, until I got to the point on the road where I knew I could overtake. I put the indicator on, and accelerated past, only for the prat to accelerate! That annoyed me, and I made sure that he got a dose of symphony in airhorn minor, as well as a soaking - amazing how well my car can produce rooster tails in the wet! (For your information, rooster tails are the twin trails of water that the rear tyres produce whilst traveling.)

The supermarket was mayhem - screaming / squealing little brats, demanding sweets, and generally being very annoying (including the kid that refused to move so I could get at the cat food, and screamed blue murder because I gave it a slight nudge with my shopping basket!)

So, as soon as I was able to escape that nut house, I headed for home. The return journey was ok, until I came up behind some silly cow in a Nissan Micra, who pulled out on me, causing me to stand on the brakes (she'd badly underestimated my speed!) and then tried to brake test me, when I was getting into position for an overtake.

That wasn't the end of the games with her though - I got level, and the stupid bitch accelerated. That really annoyed me, as that put me into a more dangerous position than was really necessary. Thankfully, I was able to use the power of my car to out accelerate her, and then, when I got to the 30mph speed limit, the silly bitch was crawling all over the back end of my car!

If I'd stood on the brakes, she'd have been straight into the back end of me, and would have screamed blue murder that it was my fault. Err excuse me - the highway code states that you must allow adequate stopping distance.

If I remember rightly, the distance (in dry weather, with good road conditions and good tyres (which are correctly inflated)) is 23m (75ft). (For more info, see http:///www.highwaycode.gov.uk/) In wet weather, again with decent tyres, you should allow at least double the normal stopping distance.

I know that this makes me sound like I'm trying to teach the world to drive safely - I'm not. All I'm asking for is a little common sense, and I'm the first to admit that I drive too fast. But, I do have one thing slightly in my favor - I've done some advanced driver training, so in theory, I'm just a better qualified idiot.

Time to call it quits - I've got to give the cats their annual flea bath... Fred's no problem, but I've still got to try and catch Ponto!


Back later - if Ponto hasn't ripped me to shreds!

Karen.
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Songs for sad times

There are some songs that just seem to sum up a relationship... The Vangelis & Anderson song - I'll find my way home sums up the relationship between myself and a good friend of mine. He's really sweet, and has always been there to support me (and give me a swift kick up the backside if he though I was being a bloody fool!)

You ask me where to begin,
Am I so lost in my sin?

You ask me where did I fall,
I'll say I can't tell you when.
But if my spirit is lost,
How will I find what is near?

Don't question I'm not alone,
Somehow I'll find my way home.


My sun shall rise in the east,
So shall my heart be at peace.
And if you're asking me when,
II'll say it starts at the end.

You know your will to be free,
Is matched with love secretly.
And talk will alter your prayer,
Somehow you'll find you are there.


Your friend is close by your side,
And speaks in far ancient tongue
A seasons wish will come true,
All seasons begin with you.

One world we all come from,

One world we melt into one.

Just hold my hand and we're there,
Somehow we're going somewhere,
Somehow we're going somewhere.


You ask me where to begin,
Am I so lost in my sin?
You ask me where did I fall,
I'll say I can't tell you when.

But if my spirit is strong,
I know it can't be long.

No questions I'm not alone,
Somehow I'll find my way home.
Somehow I'll find my way home.


Despite this, we've been through an awful lot together, and when I have felt at my lowest points, and been unable to turn to my best friend for whatever reason, he's always been there, with a box of tissues if necessary!

Time to call it quits - I think the appetite on legs is going to cough a hairball up on my bed!

Revolting moggy!

Back later - if I've caught him in time, otherwise it will be tomorrow...

Karen
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Talking about a funeral service (goodbye Daddy)

There's nothing more emotive for me at the moment, than JMJ's Oxygene - part 1. Simply because this was part of the music that I chose for Dad's funeral. As it was a non-religious service (I think the correct term is Humanist), there were no hymns, or sermons. Just tributes from myself, my cousin (who was Dad's Godson) and one of his work colleagues.

I know I keep mentioning Dad, and I guess that now is as good a time as any, to elaborate a bit more about the funeral. It was held at Oakley Wood Crematorium - without a church service first. OK - I know that some people will be horrified at that, but Dad was not a church going person.

So, rather than do was people in the community expected us to do, and hold the funeral at the local church, then go on to the Crem, Mum and I opted for the simple ceremony, where we could remember Dad.

We met the undertakers at the Crem, instead of following the hearse from the family home to the crem, as both Mum and I were of the opinion that Dad would have hated being gawped at by people he had little or no time for.

The music that I chose to enter the chapel to was Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells - Part 1. I was quite aware that it was the theme to the Exorcist movies, but it was a piece of music that both Dad and I liked, even if we did fight over the CD. It was his, but I kept swiping it!

We entered the chapel, and as I was giving a tribute, I had to sit one the end of the bench. That was ok - apart from one thing - I got so close to the end of the bench that I nearly fell off! The only thing that stopped me was Mum grabbing hold of my elbow. Still, Dad would have had a damned good laugh at that!

The minister (for want a better term) did a reading, and then asked me to step up to the lectern. All I could see was the coffin on my right, and I will admit, I was scared witless, until I remembered what a good friend of mine (who was at the funeral with his partner) told me:

"Just look at it like you're telling your Dad what you feel - that will make it easier for you kiddo. People will find the way you react during your tribute to your Dad more telling than anything that you may say."

I will admit, that it made it slightly easier than I'd realised, but it still didn't seem real to me. The other two tributes were lovely - my cousin reminding us all of Dad's sense of humour - one of his comments was "the only time this family seems to get together is for hatch, match and despatch" which unfortunately, turned out to be horribly accurate.

The tribute from Dad’s workmates had us all laughing – especially when it was said that “we practically had to nail Dave’s feet to the floor, to give the rest of us chance to get a look in on the job – he was so eager to get on with it!

That is, I guess where I get a lot of my characteristics from. People who met me for the first time at the funeral said that I looked like Mum, but my manner was similar to Dad. That made me really proud, and I said to more than one person, that if I was half as successful in my chosen career as Dad, I would be more than happy.

The music for the committal (where the coffin is removed from the chapel – we asked for the curtains to be drawn, as neither Mum nor myself could have coped with seeing that!) was JMJ’s Oxygene - part 1 – which I was told was a warped choice, given that it was a cremation!

I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. All that I care about is the fact that Dad had a good send off, and was surrounded by people who loved and admired him. As we left the chapel, the exit music was Barber’s Adagio for Strings, which was the theme music to Platoon – a film that I knew Dad liked.

It was also on a CD of mine – the very best of Classical Chillout – and I ended up having to burn a copy for Dad, as he kept trying to get his own back, and swipe my CD for once!

Time to call it quits for now – opening up my psyche hasn’t really done me much harm, but it has stirred up feelings that had been quiet for a while…

Back later - possibly. It all depends on how I'm feeling.

Karen


Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

This posting stuff's getting scary....

I never realised just how addictive posting could be, until I was browsing through several pages on Ceefax (the BBC's text based TV information service) and thought - I could use that information as a post for my blog.

But, I guess this just gives me somewhere to vent my feelings - and those people who know me, know that I used to do a similar thing when I was at university, with an online diary of sorts, on an external account. It was just something to help me pass the time away, but unfortunately, I kept it updated, instead of updating my notes!

Despite that, I think I got the better end of the deal, as all the people I knew at university, very few have been able to utilise the degree that they got in their job - unless it was computer related!

However, that doesn't stop the regrets, as I left quite a few friends behind when I quit. I also left quite a few a*holes, but that's something I have no regrets about, whatsoever!

Time to call it quits - got stuff to do 'round the house.

Back later.

Karen.


Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Shell shock...

I didn't get chance to post this blog yesterday, as I got asked to attend a meeting with my immediate supervisor and line manager. I thought that I was for the high jump about my blogging activities, but nothing could have been further from the truth!

It transpires that I'm to be given an additional field of responsibility within the department - earthmover tyres! As I've said in the past, all I know about them is the fact that they are big and expensive, and the machine tends to be yellow.

But, as my line manager admitted, when he knew that one of the earthmover specialists was leaving, he knew that as I'm such a petrol head, I would relish the chance to get my fangs into the role.

Damned right. Car tyres I can talk about 'till the cows come home, but it guess it's a legacy of my upbringing. I mean, I was brought up with cars, motorbikes, tractors and aircraft. So I guess that the next logical step is for me to start on the earthmover stuff.

Thankfully, I'm not getting slung in at the deep end (with the concrete waders!) As I'm going to be trained up on all the various requirements, and will hopefully be set loose before the start of the race season. Guess I'd better explain that bit....

There's also the chance for me to get the training that I would have cheerfully sold the appetite on legs to get - the motorsport side! The only downside is that I won't be let loose on the real stuff that I want to work with - the Formula 1 stuff!

I guess I'll have to start small, and see if I can get to that goal. But, at least I'll learn something about bike tyres, so I can talk to my best mate on a more technical level than I can at the moment.

Sure, I can talk about the general set up of a bike, but as I'm not a rider (yet - something else to aim for - and something else that Mum would skin me for if she knew what I was up to!) I can't comment on the handling of a bike running xyz tyres.

However, I'm going to keep that as an additional goal - at the moment, my main priority (aside from making sure that Mum's ok, and sorting out the reminents of Dad's estate) is getting to grips with the earthmover stuff.

Time to call it quits - got places to go, and people to annoy...

Back later.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

Wondering what will hapen to Silverstone...

As Silverstone is the home of British motorsport, I just hope that Bernie Ecclestone (the head honcho of F1) will allow this circuit to stage the British F1 GP next July... I've been to the last four British GPs (2000 - 2004 inclusive) and have thoroughly enjoyed myself each time...

SILVERSTONE ROW HISTORY:

June 1998 - Bernie Ecclestone sells rights to British GP to US company Octagon

December 2000 - Octagon agrees 15-year lease of Silverstone to run British GP

March 2003 - Octagon pulls out of its motorsport business because of debts, leaving race needing new promoter

Sep 2004 - Britain omitted from provisional 2005 calendar because of lack of agreement on promoter

Oct 2004 British GP named on draft 2005 F1 calendar

This is what BBC on-line (http://www.bbc.co.uk) has to say about the affair:

Silverstone's owners say a deal must be in place by the end of October if the 2005 British Grand Prix is to go ahead. The dispute between the British Racing Drivers' Club and F1 chief Bernie Ecclestone rests on contract details.

BRDC chairman Ray Bellm told BBC Five Live: "The main bone of contention is that Bernie wants a one-year contract with a six-year extension.

"We want two years with a five-year extension. Our crunch point is the end of October."

The World Motor Sport Council meets on 10 December to finalise the 2005 calendar, but Bellm wants to finds a solution well before then to allow the BRDC the planning time required to stage the race.

The British GP has been given a date of 3 July on next year's draft schedule but a commercial deal must be agreed before the race is confirmed.

Ecclestone, however, has already warned the BRDC that his offer to save the race is not open to negotiation. "We can't negotiate any more on this," Ecclestone told the Daily Express.

"They are on the calendar for the moment but we have to have a decision on this soon."

Ecclestone prefers a one-year deal, with a six-year extension dependent on the progress of improvements made to the track and its surroundings.

The current negotiations are not thought to involve Brand Synergy, the company which includes Nigel Mansell as one of its backers. However, the group is still hopeful of persuading the BRDC to join forces to safeguard the future of the British Grand Prix.

France and San Marino were also given provisional dates by F1's governing body the FIA on Wednesday. Ecclestone is limited to 17 Grands Prix a year by contract with the teams and must trim his draft calendar of 19 if he is to avoid a costly pay-out.

This year he had a multi-million pound bill for paying the teams to participate in an 18th race.

I just hope that this is sorted out, otherwise British petrol heads will have to travel overseas to see what I personally consider to be the pinnacle of four-wheel motor sport.

Time to call it quits - I need to grab a bite for lunch.

Back later.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?

More jokes from America

Again, I know people will think that I'm taking a swipe at Americans - nothing could be further from the truth. The jokes I tend to post on my blog have all been sent to me by Americans - to whom I am indebted for their kindness, and more to the point, all the jokes!

Law Enforcement

The LAPD, The FBI, and the CIA are all trying to prove that they are the best at apprehending criminals. The President decides to give them a test. He releases a rabbit into a forest and each of them has to catch it.

The CIA goes in. They place animal informants throughout the forest. They question all plant and mineral witnesses. After three months of extensive investigations they conclude that rabbits do not exist.

The FBI goes in. After two weeks with no leads they burn the forest, killing everything in it, including the rabbit, and they make no apologies. The rabbit had it coming.

The LAPD goes in. Two hours later they come out with a badly-beaten bear who's yelling, "OK, OK! I'm a rabbit......"


 
Here's another gem from America:-

A Letter from a hillbilly dad to his son

Dear Son,

I'm writing this slow 'cause I know you can't read fast. We don't live where we did when you left. Your Mom read in the paper where most accidents happen closer than 20 miles to home, so we moved. I won't be able to give you the address 'cause the last family that lived here took the numbers with them for their next house so they wouldn't have to change their address.

This place has a washing machine. The first day, I put four shirts in it, pulled the chain, and haven't seen them since. It only rained twice this week... Three days the first time and four days the second.

The coat you wanted me to send you... Your Aunt Sue said it would be a little too heavy to send in the mail with them heavy buttons, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

We got a bill from the funeral home. It said if we didn't make the last payment on Grandma's funeral, up she comes. About your Mother... She has a lovely job. She has over 500 men under her - she is cutting grass at the cemetery.

About your sister... She had a baby this morning. I haven't found out whether it is a boy or a girl, so don't know if you are an aunt or and uncle.

Three of your friends went off the bridge in a pickup. One was driving, the other two were in the back. The driver got out... He rolled down the window and swam to safety. The other two drowned. They couldn't get the tail gate down.

Your uncle Bo fell in the whiskey vat. Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off. Even got out twice to pee. He drowned. We cremated him ... He burned for three days.

Not much news this time ... Nothing much happened.

Write more often.

Love,

Dad.


But, with this joke, I'm taking a swipe at the way we're living our lives - and I admit - I'm guilty of at least 90% of this!

You know you're living in 2004 when...

1.You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.

2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards years.

3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.

4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.

5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends is that they don't have e-mail addresses.

6. When you go home after a long day at work you still answer the phone in a business manner.

7. When you make phone calls from home, you accidentally dial "9" to get an outside line.

8. You've sat at the same desk for four years and worked for three different companies.

10. If you don't have your mobile on you, you have no idea what your huband's / wife's / girlfriend's / boyfriend's phone number is.

11. You learn about your redundancy on the 11 o'clock news.

12. Your boss doesn't have the ability to do your job.

13. Contractors out number permanent staff and are more likely to get long-service awards.

AND..............

14. You read this entire list, and kept nodding and smiling.

15. As you read this list, you think about forwarding it to your friends.

16. You are too busy to notice there was no #9

17. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 AND NOW YOU'RE LAUGHING at yourself.


 
One final thought...

Life explained...

On the first day God created the dog. God said, "Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. I will give you a life span of twenty years." The dog said, "That's too long to be barking. Give me ten years and I'll give you back the other ten." So God agreed.

On the second day God created the monkey. God said, "Entertain people, do monkey tricks, make them laugh. I'll give you a twenty-year life span." The monkey said, "How boring, monkey tricks for twenty years? I don't think so. Dog gave you back ten, so that's what I'll do too, okay?" And God agreed.

On the third day God created the cow. God said, "You must go to the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer. I will give you a life span of sixty years." The cow said, "That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. Let me have twenty and I'll give back the other forty." And God agreed again.

On the forth day God created man. God said, "Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. I'll give you twenty years." Man said, "What? Only twenty years! Tell you what, I'll take my twenty, and the forty the cow gave back and the ten the monkey gave back and the ten the dog gave back, that makes eighty, okay?"

"Okay," said God, "You've got a deal."

So that is why the first twenty years we eat, sleep, play, and enjoy ourselves; for the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family; for the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren; and for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.

Life has now been explained to you.


 
Hopefully, this explains just a little bit about my sense of humour. Those who know me, will know that this is only just a small sample of the jokes that I have a tendency to send to people.. The rest tend to be stored in my head, and I rarely get the chance to post them, but I promise I'll do my best....

Time to call it quits - I'm supposed to be working!

Back later.

Karen.

Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?