Three little pigs...

An new twist on an old tail perhaps?

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

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

The Three Little Pigs

Three Little Pigs went out to dinner one night.

The waiter came and took their drink order.

"I would like a Sprite," said the first little piggy.

"I would like a Coke," said the second little piggy.

"I want beer, lots, and lots of beer," said the third little piggy.

The drinks were brought out and the waiter took their orders for dinner.

"I want a nice big steak," said the first piggy.

"I would like the salad plate," said the second piggy.

"I want beer, lots, and lots of beer," said the third little piggy.

The meals were brought out and a while later the waiter approached the table and asked if the piggies would like any dessert.

"I want a banana split," said the first piggy.

"I want a cheesecake," said the second piggy.

"I want beer, lots, and lots of beer," exclaimed the third little piggy.

"Pardon me for asking," said the waiter to the third little piggy, "but why have you only ordered beer all evening?"

You're gonna LOVE me for this....


The third piggy says -


"Well, somebody has to go 'Wee, wee, wee, all the way home!

I wonder.....

Nescafe manages to arrange a meeting with the Pope at the Vatican.

After receiving the papal blessing, the Nescafe official whispers, "Your Eminence, we have an offer for you. Nescafe is prepared to donate £100 million to the church if you change the Lord's Prayer from 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily coffee'."

The Pope responds, "That is impossible. The Prayer is the word of the Lord, It must not be changed."

Well," says the Nescafe man, "We anticipated your reluctance. For this reason, we will increase our offer to £300 million. All we require is that you change the Lord's Prayer from 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily coffee'."

Again, the Pope replies, "That, my son is impossible. For the prayer is the word of the Lord and it must not be changed."

Finally, the Nescafe guy says, "Your Holiness, we at Nescafe respect your adherence to your faith, but we do have one final offer. We will donate £500 million - that's half a billion quid - to the great Catholic church if you would only change the Lord's Prayer from 'Give us this day our daily bread' to 'Give us this day our daily coffee'. Please consider it." And he leaves.

The next day the Pope convenes the College of Cardinals. "There is some Good news," he announces, "and some bad news..... The good news is that the Church will come into £500 million.”

“And the bad news, your Holiness?" asks a Cardinal.





"We're losing the Hovis Account."



Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

Another hospital visit and more physio? You bet.

There are times when I wonder why I bother going to see the saw-bones at Warwick hospital.

Why? Because I feel that I’m being fobbed off every damned time I see him. This time, it’s a case of go to the physio, and I’ll see you in three months time for another jab in the shoulder joint.

Thanks a bunch. I still don’t know what the problem with my shoulder is – what I do know is that I’m getting fed up with the lack of progress (not to mention the lack of information.)

Add into this, I will now have to spend even more time at a hospital I don’t feel comfortable going to, and more to the point, I feel like I’m wasting time – both the physio’s time and mine.

Guess I should call this quits – I need to get bits and pieces sorted out…

Back later.

Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Fun and games flying from Funchal...

Monday morning arrived, and as Mum and I weren't leaving for the Airport until 11:00, we had plenty of time to walk into Funchal and get our last minute purchases - which in our case meant buying corms and seeds, as well as wicker-work. I got a replica of the Monte toboggan which I thought would be perfect to keep my car keys and security pass in, whilst I'm in the office.

Once we'd gotten what we wanted, and had packed it was off to the airport. And that was where the fun started. We were told the the flight was delayed for a couple of hours - and that it was due to adverse weather conditions in Birmingham. Great - just what Mum and I needed to be told - rotten weather back home.

So, we killed time by wandering around the very small duty free area, and watching the antics of the terminal maintenance crew, who were trying (unsuccessfully at first) to deal with a blocked drain line on one of the big overhead air-conditioning units.

Mum got tired, so I did my normal trick and left her with the hand-baggage, whilst I scampered off into Duty Free. I was under instruction to get a decent bottle of whisky for one of my neighbours, and I wanted to see if I could get a particular aftershave I'd been after (Boss Selection).

Given the size of the Duty Free area, it was almost as good as the ones at Heathrow (and much better than the one at Birmingham!) I not only managed to get a bottle of single malt, but I managed to get the aftershave and some of my perfume - Cartier - Declaration (I think that's how you spell it!)

We finally got onto the flight, and it was almost as bad as the in-bound trip. We also found out why we'd had the delay... The aircraft had a technical fault at Birmingham, thus delaying the outbound flight, which had a knock-on effect on the return flight that Mum and I were on.

This time, I was lucky enough to be seated by the window, whilst poor Mum was stuck in the middle seat, and was tremendously uncomfortable.

But, once we'd landed back in Birmingham, we knew that it wasn't going to be too long before we were home.

If anything, this trip has made me more determined to go back to Maderia, as the people are really friendly, and the scenery? Well, that's just spectacular, and deserves a longer trip to do the island justice.

Would I recommend going there? YES.

If you're into gardening, walking and good food, it's a real must see place, and one that I have every intention of going back to, as a week just wasn't long enough to see and do everything that I wanted to.

Ah well, guess I should call this quits - I've got bits and pieces to sort out before I go back to the playpen that I call an office, next week. (Boo, hiss.)

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

Cable cars and a toboggan ride....?

Sunday was a day for Mum and myself to get the last bits and pieces sorted out, and think about packing, ready to leave for Birmingham on the Monday morning.

Mum and I decided that we would head up on the cable car to Monte, so we could have a look around, and possibly go around Monte Palace Gardens.

Again, the pictures that I took were the ones that my dratted camera wiped off, and it annoys me intensely, knowing what a spectacular view it was, going up to Monte. We'd only bought a one way ticket, as I was hoping that I was going to be able to talk Mum into going down the hill with me.

That had to be put on hold, as Mum wasn't fit enough to endure the bumping that the trip was going to involve. So, we opted for a drink at the cable car station, and talked about the things that we needed to sort out before we flew home.

It wasn't that much, as we agreed that we would pick up the last little bits and pieces at the airport if necessary, and that the rest of the day, we were going to spend by the pool!

Time to call this quits - my eyes are getting heavy.

Back tomorrow.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

Central Maderia - cherries and chestnuts

Saturday was another early start for Mum and myself. This time, it was because we were going to see the central part of Madeira.

Again, I noticed the changes in the vegetation as we travelled towards the first stop towards the northern edge of Funchal. It gave both Mum and myself to see the city in all its glory (including the unforgettable sight that is Reid’s Palace – the only reason that I mention this, is because it’s painted pink!)

Yet again, the photos that I took were wiped off the memory card – all I can say is –thank god for having two cameras – Mum’s card wasn’t wiped when I tried to transfer the images to the computer.

We travelled in-land to the Nun’s Valley, and our guide explained the reason behind the naming of this area. Apparently, in the 15th century, Madeira was regularly attacked by pirates who used to steal the riches from the churches and other religious places in Funchal.

One group of nuns found this intolerable, and so decided that they would find a safe area to hide their wealth from the nunnery, and used this one particular levada – a walk of about 5 hours.

Because of this particular valley being so remote, it was a perfect hiding place for the island’s wealth, and so became known as the Nuns Valley. From what our guide was telling us (and I’ll be only too happy to accept corrections from Madeirans) the valley was hardly accessible by road until the late 1970s / early 1980s.

The valley itself was quite beautiful, and whilst the rest of the tour party went to try the chestnut cake and the cherry brandy that the valley is renowned for,I opted to go and see the local church.

Why? Simple. I loathe cherries, and I'm allergic to nuts, so both of those "treats" were out of the question for me. I re-joined the party, and we headed back towards Funchal - via Camara de

Lobos (I think the translation is Place of Wolves - something to do with the seals that are there.)

Apparently, it was Winston Churchill's favourite place to go and paint whilst he was on holiday in Maderia (he stayed at Reid's Palace). It may have been beautiful in the 1930s, but I'm afraid that it has been spoilt by an ugly exapnse of concrete that goes right up to the sea wall.

The rest of the day was spent quietly by the hotel swimming pool, with Mum and myself planning our final trip before getting ready to fly back to Birmingham..

Guess I should call this quits - it's my turn to feed Fred, and he's not patient when he's hungry!

Back tomorrow.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

Timeshare and Maderia Wine...

Friday, Mum and I went to have a look at a time-share that our hotel group was pushing. So, the pair of us got the bus that was sent and went to have a look. To be honest, neither of us were really that interested, but the bribe (ok – I mean incentive) was worth it – a beautiful book on Madeira that was worth about £35.

The guy who met us was no salesman at all – and when he took Mum and me to one of the so-called apartments, he sat in a chair and made no effort to ensure that Mum and I were making the right decision as far as he was concerned – i.e. saying “yes” to taking a 10 year timeshare.

There were a number of things that put the pair of us off, one of them being the lack of privacy. The balcony appeared to be overlooked on three sides and also shared facilities with the five-star hotel on the site. Add into that, you would be up in the hotel zone (meaning that if we had wanted to go into Funchal, we would have needed to get the courtesy bus) and the financial side also didn’t add up either.

So, it was an easy decision for the pair of us – thanks, but no thanks – simply because it just wasn’t the sort if place that we were interested in.

Or next point of call was the Old Blandy Wine Lodge. (See http://www.blandys.com/) Neither Mum nor I had any idea about Madeira wine (I always thought it was disgustingly sweet. Boy – was I about to be proven wrong!)

The best bit was, apart from being able to go on the tour of the winery (Mum and I didn’t do that, simply because Mum didn’t feel up to going) was the try before you buy bar.

The bar itself was nicely done – the tables and chairs were made from old barrels. Whilst Mum got comfortable on the seat, I went to the bar…

To my surprise (and delight) there was more than just the very sweet dessert wine available – there was a choice of super sweet to dry. Mum opted to try the Verdehlo variety (a medium dry) and I opted for the Sercial variety (a dry wine.)

Needless to day, bottles were bought, and up the corner of the bar, was a group of tourists (I’m still not sure if they were German or Scandinavian – I do know that they were very drunk!)

The rest of the afternoon was spent lazing by the pool (yes – I managed to get sunburnt – my fault for being daft and not putting waterproof sunscreen on!)

Ah well, suppose I should log off and bog off - Mum's just called to say that we've got visitors and I'm supposed to be making an appearance - worst luck!

Back when I can escape!

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

The Gardens Tour

Thursday, Mum and I went on a half day tour, as the pair of us wanted to have a bit of time to relax – we were both of the opinion that a holiday was supposed to be a time for the pair of us to kick back and relax (as well as the fact that Mum was getting tired – her hip was playing her up quite a bit and she was finding walking painful and slow!)

The tour was advertised as being a chance to see two of Madeira’s most famous gardens – Blandys and the botanical gardens.

In theory, this was a good trip, as the guide was supposed to be a trained botanist (emphasis on supposed) and was going to be helpful and informative.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. The guide was surly and her knowledge (and helpfulness) left an awful lot to be desired. She didn’t seem too impressed with the fact that Mum was on a walking stick, and when we got to Blandy’s gardens, that was when the fun started.

The path (ok – cobbled walkway) was a very steep gradient and was not exactly very friendly to someone who is non-too steady on their feet.

So, Mum asked what time we were to meet back at the coach, and said that she would make her own way around the gardens, and that I could get pictures of the things that she missed and vice versa.

The guide wasn’t very keen on that idea, but given the strength of Mum’s personality (and the fact that she was determined to do that anyway!) she didn’t really have much option!

In hindsight, I wish I’d gone with Mum as well, simply because she saw things that I missed – including an 8ft tall dahlia! Instead, our so-called botanist guide pointed out boring things such as delphiniums. Excuse me – if I’d wanted to see delphiniums, I’d have looked in the back garden at home!

We stopped for a coffee (it turned out to be a 3/4hr stop, during which time our illustrious guide spent most of the time yapping on her mobile phone) and so, left the group to do some exploring…

The last stop was to the Botanical Gardens. This was much more to mine and Mum’s liking, as there were plenty of native Madeiran plants – most of which Mum and I had only seen in glasshouses at Kew Gardens! In fact, we spent less time at the botanical gardens than we did having a coffee at Blandy’s! However, Mum and I were able to get some lovely photographs (again – mine were on the card that got wiped – learnt my lesson from that!)

In hindsight, I wish that Mum and I had gone to the Botanic gardens on our own, and missed the Blandy’s garden bit out. But, if we hadn’t gone, we would have always wondered what we had missed out on.

We got back to the hotel and had lunch, and decided that we wanted to go to one of the orchid nurseries that we’d both been reading about. So, we decided to get a taxi up to the one that we had chosen…

Thankfully, the taxi driver said that he would wait for us, as there were no taxis in the area... We were a bit dubious, but we agreed and it was a good thing, as the nursery was off a track, off a back street in the upper end of Funchal!

The exhibits however, were well worth the trip... Both Mum and I were salivating over the blooms, and not for the first time I was wishing that we had the right conditions to grow such beautiful blooms.

There were some that I recognised, but most of them, I didn’t and I just enjoyed taking photographs of them:

Guess I should call this quits – I need to get some sleep – got a busy day tomorrow!

Back when I get the chance…

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Western Maderia

Wednesday, Mum and I were up quite early (as in 06:30 - not a nice experience when you're supposed to be on holiday!) and the pair of us were amazed that it was still dark!

So, we headed down to breakfast, and then walked to the meeting point, by the cable car station. It was a nice walk, and Mum and I were hoping that it was going to be a good day weather wise, as we'd been warned that the weather could change rather rapidly when you were up in the mountains

The mini-bus arrived, and we duly hopped on board, to complete the rest of the pick ups... There was a slight technical hitch with the microphone, but that was soon resolved and we were on our way.

One of the things that I did notice was that every spare piece of land seemed to have bananas and sugar cane growing on it up to 2,000 feet, and then it changed to grapevines. The guide explained that this was due to the climate of the island and that and sugar cane had played an important part in the island's economy in the past, but was unable to compete with the cheaper imports.

The first stop was at a viewpoint – and what a view it was! It was the top of one of the highest sea-cliffs in the world (the exact height escapes me – all I know was that it was very scary looking down!)

The next point of call was a small village (this was one of the pictures that my damned camera managed to lose!) where we had a walk around, and looked out over the beach. Bad choice of phrase really – there are no beaches on Madeira – the coast line tends to be a straight drop into the Atlantic ocean.

Lunch was taken at the most westerly point of the island – where there are some of the most spectacular sea cliffs I have ever seen.

The food was really good – I chose the eschpada (black scabbard fish). It wouldn’t win any beauty awards, but it was certainly tasty – one of those things that you miss when you return to the UK!

We then headed across the central plateau of the island – where the clouds can be a fair distance away and then 10 minutes later, you’re enclosed in cloud and it’s raining!

The rest of the trip was quiet – both Mum and I were too busy admiring the scenery on the way back (and I will admit I was dozing in a couple of places - that was when I wasn’t flinching at the near misses that seemed to occur around every bend!)

Time to call this quits – I’ve still got to finish my un-packing!

Back when I get chance.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

First full day in Madeira

Tuesday was a gentle day, which started with the welcome meeting from the tour rep. She was a nice lass and told us (Mum, myself and the rest of the group that had arrived on the same day / flight as us) about the island and some of the trips, as well as some of the things to try…

One of the things that she suggested that people try, was Poncha – made from firewater (ok – local rum or rhum as the Portuguese spell it) honey and lemon.

Apparently, it’s a real cure-all – three of them and what ever was wrong with you has been cured. (I put that down to the fact that it’s due to the fact that you’re so pissed, you can’t remember what was wrong with you in the first place!)

Mum and I decided that there were a couple of trips that we did want to do – i.e. the Western Madeira trip on the Wednesday, the half day gardens tour on Thursday and the Nuns Valley tour on the Saturday. The theory being that the rest of the week, Mum and I could spend relaxing by the pool or shopping in Funchal.

So, Tuesday after the meeting, Mum and I took an gentle walk to the Madeira story centre, which was just up the road from our hotel. It was really good - a great way to start the holiday, and had some superb exhibits - including the wax models illustrating various people from Maderian history.

The pirates were raiders of the islands during the late 15th century, and Mum made me laugh by saying that the one pirate didn't look too enthusiastic at all...!

There were other models - including this one of Napoleon:

Much as I hate to say it, Napoleon looks hungover in this pose, and there were several comments along the lines of "not tonight Joseph" But there was one display that did make my eyes light up...

It's one of the famous sledges that run from Monte and Mum said that she would see how she felt before saying that she would go down in it with me...

Then, it was a gentle stroll to the market (more on that later in my blog) and a stop off for a bite to eat, before heading back to the hotel to get changed for dinner, and grabbing an early night, as we'd got to be up super early the following day...

Time to call this quits - my eyes are getting tired.

Back when I get the chance...

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

Back from Madeira

This is the first time that I’ve had chance to put finger to keyboard and has become my normal trick – I’ve got loads of pictures from my holiday – even if my damned camera decided to wipe out all of the images off one memory card!

But, despite that setback, I’ve got loads of pictures – some of which I will publish – others that will remain in the collection for personal reasons.

As with past trips, I think the best way is for me do treat each day as a separate post, so that it doesn’t just become a blur, and get confusing. This first post will deal with the trials and tribulations of travel on the outbound leg…

The flight out would have been fine – apart from the fact that I felt like I’d been crammed into a veal pen. I should have guessed that things were not going to go very smoothly, when the snotty cow on the check-in desk decided to give Mum and myself a hard time over the hand baggage weight.

She said that you were only allowed 5kg, and that Mum’s flight bag was overweight and would have to have some bits put into the case as my own case was on the weight limit as well. (I couldn’t find any information on the weight allowances on the tickets, but I was too pissed off to argue with the cow.)

I resorted to taking the one guide book out and putting it into my pocket (I got glared at) and then we were allowed to check in. I swear the miserable female decided to get her own back on the pair of us – she gave us our boarding passes – no problem. The problem arose when we realised where we were seated – Right at the back of the aircraft – the last row of seats, meaning that we couldn’t recline the seats if we wanted!

Add into that it was a bloody long walk to the gate (a rugby scrum is more organised than that plane’s boarding system!) and you get the general idea.

The flight itself was uneventful (and bloody boring – thank god for having a decent book to read – Trudi Canavan’s Black Magician trilogy – book 1 – the Magician’s Guild)

Once in the air, I lost count of the number of times that the trolleys went up and down the aisle (and as the galley was at the back – right behind the seats that Mum and I had been assigned (we were the poor mugs right by the aisle!)) we soon got fed up with them barging past us the whole time.

Thankfully, the weather in Madeira made up for it, and the transfer was relatively smooth to our hotel. We were staying in the old part of town – away from the so-called hotel zone in the west of Funchal.

The hotel itself (the Porto Santa Maria) was very nice (see http://www.portostamaria.com/index/pb/portosantamaria.html) and proved to be a perfect base to start our exploration of the island.

Time to call this quits – we’ve got visitors.

Back later…

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

When I've sat by the window, and gazed at the rain...

I’m a little calmer today, but not that much. Mum and I went shopping today, to get the last minute bits and pieces that we need four our holiday to Madeira (we fly out from Birmingham airport at 08:00 on Monday morning).

I will admit to being reluctant to go out, as all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, and cry my heart out; because it was the first night I’d spent without Ponto snoring contentedly in my room.

Ok – I know I’ve had weekends away, but since I found out just how ill he was, I stayed at home as much as my job would allow and spend the nights with him snuggled up next to me in my bed.

But, over the past week or so, he seemed to be struggling to breathe, so I got an old pillow, folded it up, and made sure that he had his head resting on it, so that he could breathe.

Even now, as I sit typing my blog up, I miss the furry little fiend, as he used to lie on top of my computer (or printer – depending on how annoying he wanted to be) and snore – just enough to drown out whatever music I was foolish enough to try and listen to on my computer.

I know there will be people calling me a bloody fool because I’m so cut up about Ponto. Yes, he was just a cat, but he was with me for a good part of my life – 13 years – and took great delight in disapproving of practically all the people I decided to see. (I almost wish that I’d listened to him at times – I might have saved myself an awful lot of heartache!)

So, I guess this is my requiem for a cat:

Farewell my furry fiend
May there be things for you to terrorise and chase
And a welcoming pair of arms to cuddle you when you want them

May there be a warm bed waiting for you
And a plate of something nice to eat
Complete with a pint of Channel Islands milk to wash it all down with

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Goodbye my pussy cat

I can hardly see through my tears as I type this. Ponto has been put to sleep, and died quietly in my arms this evening.

I’m sorry – I can’t type anymore.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Reaching the end of the road?

This evening has been one of the most emotionally draining I’ve ever had the misfortune to experience.

John (the vet who deals with Fred and Ponto) made a house call tonight, to see how Ponto is, as he agreed that it would be less stressful to all concerned if Ponto wasn’t put into the cat carrier, and came out like a furry atom bomb – complete with the teeth and claws of a small Siberian tiger!

But that doesn’t mean that Ponto doesn’t get things all his own way. John might be daft enough to agree to a home visit, but he still brings the little muzzle and booties for the cat.

He examined Ponto, and then broke the news. He wants to see him again on Friday night, and has said that Ponto is fast approaching the end, and that he will start suffering.

I will admit to being in denial (and still am as I type this entry) as Ponto was double teaming with Fred yesterday – they were playing tag and generally terrorising the life out of one of the local dogs – it was quite funny to watch the pair of them and you would not have thought that there was anything wrong with Ponto at all.

So, until Friday arrives, all I can do is cuddle Ponto and make sure that he is spoilt rotten, and hopefully, make him realise that he means the world to me.

Time to call this quits – I need to get some sleep tonight – as I can see that the next couple of days will fly past – especially as I’ve got to make sure that my understudy knows what the hell he has to do, when it comes to dealing with my OTR work…

Back tomorrow if I get the chance.

Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Starting the day with a smile or two….

Ok – I apologise in advance if people have seen these jokes before, but they made me grin!

Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

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

The Koala and the Little Lizard




A koala is sitting up in a gum tree smoking a joint when a little lizard walks past and looks up and says

"Hey Koala! What are you doing?"
The koala says: "Smoking a joint, come up and have some."



So the little lizard climbs up and sits next to the koala and they have a few joints.

After a while, the little lizard says his mouth is 'dry' and is going to get a drink from the river.

But the little lizard is so stoned that he leans too far over and falls into the river.
A crocodile sees this and swims over to the little lizard and helps him to the side, then asks the little lizard: "What's the matter with you?"

The little lizard explains to the crocodile that he was sitting smoking a joint with the koala in the tree, got too stoned, and then fell into the river while taking a drink.

The crocodile says he has to check this out and walks into the rain forest, finds the tree where the koala is sitting finishing a joint, and he looks up and says

"Hey you!"




So the koala looks down at him and says:



"Fuckin’ hell dude.......how much water did you drink?!!"

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

Two Scots, Angus and Jock, are sitting in the pub discussing Jock's forthcoming wedding.


"Ach, it's all going grand," says Jock. "I've got everything organised already: the flowers, the church, the cars, the reception, the rings, the minister, even ma stag night...


Angus nods approvingly. "Havens, I've even bought a kilt to be married in!" continues Jock.


"A kilt?" exclaims Angus, "That's braw, you'll look pure smart in that! "And what's the tartan?" Angus then enquires.


"Och," says Jock, "I'd imagine she'll be in white..."

Getting dragged shopping...

Is a real pain in the behind. But, when it's Julian doing the dragging, it's even worse.

He's a major pain in the butt when it comes to shopping, and can make my life absolutely hell, as he knows damned well that I am most comfortable in jeans and a top.

But, because I've got my cousin's weeding (sorry - wedding) he's decided to "assist" (read for that bully) me into changing my wardrobe into something a little more suitable.

OK - in theory, maybe that's not such a bad thing, but he seems intent on winding me up, as he knows damned well that there are certain styles / colours I will not even consider, so he makes a beeline for them!

Equally, I was a bit miffed when he vetoed a shirt that I'd been eyeing up for absolutely ages - because he said that the colour wasn't right for me!

I will admit to grumping, but when I held it up to myself, I saw what he meant - the only thing that it would go with in my wardrobe was my black work trousers! So I grudgingly admitted that he was correct, and continued shopping.

He also said that there were a couple of things I need to get for a weekend away at the end of November.

What I got shall remain hidden until the weekend in question, simply because the person whom I am going with reads my blog, and I want it to be a surprise... The only thing that I will reveal is that the colour is listed as Gold...


Guess I should call this quits - I've still got stuff do today - including mowing the lawn...

Back tomorrow I guess.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don't have wings

Repeating a scare?

Ever had a feeling of déjà vu? Well, my best friend had that horrible feeling today.

How do I know? Simple. He sent me the following e-mail:

Sorry Kaz

Something’s come up I gotta go
My Mum’s been taken back into hospital this morning I’ll contact you later when I can ok and I’ll let you know what’s going on

Not the sort of e-mail I wanted to receive, and I will admit to wondering how he was… or at least I did until I spoke to him whilst I was on my lunch break.

I sent him a message saying that I was on lunch and that if he wanted to talk, then I was around.

No sooner had I sent the message, I got reply saying that he wanted to talk… He’d been unable to see his Mum in the hospital but had spoken to his Dad who said that this problem seemed to have started last Thursday night.

My friend was (and still is) less than impressed but agreed with me when I said that his Mum was in the best place if (God forbid) anything did happen.

As I type this, I will admit that my thoughts and prayers are with him and his family, as I know only too well the pain that losing a parent can cause.

Ah well, guess I should call this quits – I’ve got work to do – not that I’ve got any interest at the moment…

Back when I get the chance.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Laying a ghost to rest

Well, I’ve seen my ex-fiancé and I refrained from laying him out in the middle of Oxford. I will admit that I was somewhat apprehensive about meeting him, but I will admit to being glad that Julian was with me, as it made things a little easier for me.

My ex wasn’t too keen on the fact that Julian was there, and even asked if we could talk somewhere on our own. Not a chance of that, as I was unwilling to give him the option of sweet-talking me into getting back with him – which he had managed to do in the past.

I should have known better
But I trusted you at first
I should have know better
But I got what I deserved
 
So, he seemed to sulk a bit, and then started saying how much he missed me, and how much he wanted us to get back together and that things would be better for the pair of us.

A little late for all the things you didn't say
I'm not sad for you
But I'm sad for all the time I had to waste
'Cause I learned the truth

Don’t ask me how I managed to stop myself exploding – but I think that Julian’s hand squeezing my elbow had something to do with it… I politely pointed out that he was the one who had forced my hand by insisting within a matter of days of Dad’s death, that I leave my job and move down south.

No warning of such a sad song
Of broken hearts My dreams of fairy tales and fantasy, oh
Were torn apart

That seemed to go down like a lead balloon, and I made sure that he realised there was no hope of us getting back together, as I reminded him that my life had changed for the better since I’d split up with him – and I was (and am) so much happier without him interfering with my life.

I lost my peace of mind
Somewhere along the way
I knew there's come a time
You'd hear me say I'm sick and tired
Of always being sick and tired

When I left, he looked like a puppy that had been kicked, but I knew damned well that if I’d shown the slightest bit of sympathy, then I was done for as he would just sucker me back into seeing him again – and this time – I want nothing more to do with him.

But, for now, I'm an awful lot happier than I was before I saw him, and I'm beginning to wonder why I let the b'stard wind me up so much.

More to the point, I've come to the conclusion that I am 100% better off without him in my life, and if he tries to contact me again... Well I might just have to resort to my original choice - laying him out cold!

Your heart is in a place I no longer wanna be
I knew there'd come a day I'd set you free

Guess I should call this quits – I’ve got stuff to sort out around the house…

Back later if I get the chance.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Tired of being kicked

Why is it, that whenever I try to help someone out, I end up being kicked in the guts?

Simply because a colleague was away, I was doing the lion’s share of her work, and hadn’t been given the relevant information about some spreadsheet or other that was supposed to be filled in on a daily basis. Not that the spreadsheet in question was anything to do with me – someone else was ‘supposed’ to be responsible for that.

'Cause I'm too proud, I'm too strong
Live by the quote that you gotta move on
Feeling sorry for yourselfAin’t got nobody nowhere

 However, the person in question failed to tell me what he needed, so muggings here is the one who gets the kicking. Because if I tell the truth (as in the other person is a bone-idle b’stard who lumbered me with nearly all the damned work) it will look like I’m trying to lump all the blame onto this other person.

Took so long to get me here
But I won't live in fear
You try to steal my shine
But first they wanna build you up
Then they tear you down
It's a struggle, you try to bubble

So, all I can do is swallow my pride and take the grumping that is coming my way, and all because someone failed to give me all the information that I required… But, from the sounds of things, at least I didn’t screw the spreadsheet up – that was someone else’s screw up – and not that I’m gloating. Much.

Ah well, suppose I should think about doing some work, but I’m suffering from TNFI…

Back when I get the chance.

Karen

Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings

Being scared, and put off dinner!

I guess the title says it all. I went to see Snakes on a Plane last night with Julian – and yes – it was just as I expected – a ‘leave your brain at the cinema door’ type of film.

However, despite that, it was a really good film and a couple of times I did jump – and I was more than impressed with the special effects – to the extent that I've decided to get this film on DVD.

I thought Julian was scared by the film in a couple of places (well if the bruises on my left arm are anything to go by) even thought he denied it afterwards…

We had planned to go to Frankie & Bennies afterwards, but neither of us could face eating – it probably had something to do with a couple of scenes in the film…

Ah well, guess I should get on with some work, but I’m really suffering from a case of TNFI…

Back when I get the chance.

Karen
Learning to fly, but I don’t have wings