“Do you mind driving to Stockport?”

Hmmm.  Suspicious mind.  What do you want me to do when I get there?  Delivering leaflets? Canvassing?  Something strenuous and uncomfortable?

“Pick up urgent stationery and drive home.”

Oh, cool.  Yesterday was a gorgeous bright warm day, so I had no problem with a jaunt in the countryside.

So, where’s Stockport, then?

I remembered once they started to explain — I went through there to get to Cheadle. It’s a gorgeous route.  Up high over the hills and through the National Park.  Spectacular views.

So, top down (*), sunnies on, Fountains of Wayne on the CD player,  spend afternoon on the road.  Grab a sandwich in Romily, turn round, come home.
Perfick.

(*) Sunroof on MAX is about as close as I can get

is

mentee

as in a person who is mentored, rather than the herbal drink or sea creature it sounds like it ought to be.
I’m not certain this is a real word, but it came up a lot in a presentation this afternoon.

is

mentee

as in a person who is mentored, rather than the herbal drink or sea creature it sounds like it ought to be.
I’m not certain this is a real word, but it came up a lot in a presentation this afternoon.

I think my chapters for Treasure Island on www.librivox.org are being podcast at the moment — Saturday’s and Monday’s editions are the ones I did.

My Yarr! pirate voice for Long John Silver really made my throat hurt at the time, and one listener has written to me to query whether I pronounced the author’s name correctly.  I’ve always thought he was Robert “Looee” Stevenson, but some others have said Lewis.
I should be recording right now. I’ve signed myself up to a record number of projects, all detailed on my podcasting page (at least they should be).  The enthusiasm is there, if the time a little short.

But the key thing stopping me right now is, erm, phlegm.  I’m bunged up, and you can hear it when I record.  And I have to stop every few minutes to clear my throat.  Urgh. I feel fine otherwise, apart from occasional achey throats.  And on the rare occasion when I have to use my voice extensively (training last weekend, for example) it gets raspy quickly.

Dear Feebdack

I heard with interest your piece on the various different slots available to comedy programmes.

Count Arthur Strong is very welcome in the 6.30 slot, I think he’s a hoot.  Personally, I think the difference is between programmes that raise a wry smile (better suited to 11.30am) and programmes that make you laugh out loud (better suited to the evening.)

So one programme that has no business whatsoever in the evening slot is No Commitments.  It’s well written, well acted, good drama — but it’s never made me laugh. Banish it to the mornings, and leave us with something more entertaining in the evenings.

Some time last week, I put my name and phone number into a double glazing website, and with my permission, they passed my details onto three carefully selected firms in my area.  All three promply phoned up to make an appointment, and all three made a point of asking whether Mrs Foster could be there at the same time.

And all three came at 90 minute intervals this morning.

All the while, the drains people have been frantically finishing the work outside whilst the tarmac guy starts the making good work.

During that, I also took four or five various phonecalls, which is fairly unusual.

It’s been quite a morning!

All three double glazing people have made the same sorts of noises whilst being shown around the house and garden and asked to quote for new windows throughout plus conservatory on the back.  Two of them were prepared to give me a figure before leaving.  It’s a little bit more than I thought and what with the kitchen also being a little bit more than I thought, and the drains also going over budget, it’s making the total house renovation budget a very large sum indeed.  Certainly way more than we can recoup in the shorter term by adding value to the house.
We’re starting to wonder if maybe we should stop renovations entirely, sell up and buy somewhere for the cost of this place plus the renovation budget.

But… but…  We’re here now.  I hate moving.  I haven’t unpacked yet (in fact there are boxes that I haven’t unpacked since before 2000).  This property has a lot going for it in terms of location, and the garden could be amazing, even if the foxes do keep leaving mutilated avian corpses (1) on the lawn.

Do we really need a conservatory?  We definitely need a new kitchen, as the present is driving us mad. Can’t wait too long for a washing machine.  But we wonder what would we use the conservatory for, since the sitting-room and dining room don’t get used that often.  It’s a huge amount of money to spend on a room that would essentially be used for drying washing, starting seedlings and, erm, as a cat bedroom.

(1) “Goodnight Bracknell!  We’ve been Mutilated Avian Corpses, and you’ve been fantastic!”

A text exchange last week.

I’m in Sainsbugs, do you want anything?

Yay! Peanut Butter KitKat. I’ve waited years for this moment.

Peanut butter on list anyway. Crunchy or smooth?

(We have both in stock because crunchy is better on bread/toast, but smooth is better for mixing into icecream)

Yes. And Peanut Butter Kitkat.

You’re kidding me, What’s that?

Kitkat bar with peanut butter in, of course.

Can’t see any. They have kitkats in following variety: milk choc, dark choc, white choc, mint, orange and caramac.

(It’s a V Big Sainsbugs)

Arse. Ask someone!

At which point I say I don’t believe in Peanut Butter KitKat and think he’s setting me up.

oOo

This evening, 17.50

I found Peanut Butter KitKat further down aisle on other side from all the other flavours. Anyway I am about to bite into one. I have waited years for this moment.

17.51

Yes. Oh yes. Better than I could have imagined.

17.52

Warning: may contain nuts

19.47

Oh Lordy. Peanut Chunky Butter Kitkat chocolate doverose. Glaah. Glaah glaaah glaaah .

oOo

I think Glaah is a very good word to use in association with peanut butter.

My new car

Originally uploaded by nilexuk.

A sleek, black Vauxhall Vectral 1.9 diesel, 6 speed gear box, 9000 miles on the clock, 0 to $stupid in the blink of an eye, cockpit a sea of blinking microswitches is mine, all mine… until my M reg Skoda comes back out of exploratory surgery to find out why it’s overheating even since the new thermostat went in. I kinda understand why my insurance company don’t want me driving something like this, and I feel slightly nervous stewarding 12 grandsworth of car through 6 junctions of the M1. I’ve been driving unusually courteously. Must make doubly sure I don’t accidentally get locked in the bingo hall car park tonight. And you know, we might just be making an unnecessary day trip on Sunday!  Ooh, Mothering Sunday!

Someone found a post from last June by googling “help me, I’m starving”

I’m intrigued. You’re starving to death, so what do you do? You google ‘help me I’m starving’ then click through the pages of results until you end up three pages in on link number 21, and you click my review of Midland Mainline catering?!

At least a kind commenter (and one who felt the need to stress hir anonymity) has reassured me about all the hundreds of people questioning my sanity by googling “niles crazy” were looking for the song Crazy, by Gnarls Barkley. I’ve no idea if the song is any good, but the name Gnarls is fantastic.

In writing this, I have just popped along to Wikipedia to see if explains ‘hir’ (It does: hir is here) and it has the wonderful phrase

For example, if you believe in a transgendered deity

I don’t think I’m going to research that one any further.

Today, after nearly a year of working in this office, I discover that the hot tap in the kitchenette works.  For some unknown reason, I’d assumed that because there wasn’t a hot tap in the loo, that the hot tap in the kitchen wouldn’t work either.  I was boiling a kettle for washing up when an orqueuse de vache pointed out this was not necessary.

I regret to say that in the year I have been working here, this was the first abortive attempt at washing up.