He hath murdered sleep again

Barney sat up in bed at 3am and shouted "we have to cancel the debit cards", then he went for his phone and started to call the credit card number. I muttered it was OK and go back to sleep, long drive North next day etc. He phoned the right number and shouted a bit at the incomprehensible Johnny Foreigner before being reassured by some nice woman in Wales. It takes 10 days look you boyo, int worth the trouble now is it?
Next morning I didn't get to my meeting early - after telling everyone else they should because the new venue had few parking spaces... Barney was fine. He also got to Edinburgh fine. I was knackered, after my banana breakfast and banana lunch (too many meetings for eating) I got home then had to go out again at the request of me mam. I didn't have a drink though - would've fallen over.
This sleep murdering lark is getting a bit wearing. Never mind, once I've retired it'll not matter. haha

Rites of passage - the propert market

Ellie's got an offer accepted on a house. I feel such a grown up, having guided her through the property minefield in 1977 terms. She was polite.

It's the house she can afford, rather than of her dreams, that bit hasn't changed at all since 1977. It's an ex-council property and unusually small. (They were supposed to have room in the hall for a pram, according to me mam. It's probably just as well this one hasn't). There are very old carpets and the original windows and a pervading odour of animal vegetable or mineral, whatever it is, it's old and decaying. We reckon around 10K to get it habitable (more to match the manner to which she has become accustomed swanning it around here). It will be a hobby for me in my retirement: project managing. She was going to get a bigger mortgage with the Young Man but his former missed payment on a card and unorthodox dealings with Welcome finance have kind of scuppered that one. So she's on her own, financially, I suppose she'll let him stay there occasionally if he's good.

Meanwhile The Young Man's problems with Welcome Finance have moved to myself and I find I'm chasing them for a duplicated payment they claim not to have received despite Barclays assurances. Carole at Gateshead is trying, she says, but it appears there's almost a thousand pounds in a black hole. That's a new central heating boiler for yer average ex-council terrace house.

The property search has made me wonder... When do new houses become worth around the same as older ones of the same size? I've noticed that 1970's/'80's properties which were more expensive when new, now cost less than 1950's and 1960's, whereas the nineties ones are still quite pricey. It could be to do with running costs - lots of windows giving way to higher insulation standards. I've also learned that people seem to see uPVC windows as preferable to my solid mahogany double glazing (nasty brown windows, acccording to Shazza).

Murder'd Sleep

I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. The bed was shaking. Then I really woke up. It turned out it was Barney – laughing uncontrollably at 4 in the morning.
In his dreams he was remembering the Postman Incident, telling his mates about it and giggling helplessly at his wit. I know because he told me all about it later when I got up to make at cup of tea at 7am. It’s a much better story now ‘he wouldn’t hand over his mailbags in case he lost his job…. there was his enormous bum rising over the pyracantha…’ etc. In the meantime I busied my weary brain with different angles on Supporting Your Child Buying a House. I thought my helicopter days were over, but feel a great urge to hover, maybe at a distance. Anyway since the cash ISAs seems to be paying 0.5% (Yes, but it is tax free! Like equivalent to 0.625% gross), I think it could well be a better investment to get into property on the back of a ftb. That’s trade talk for first time buyer, see. We spent the day looking at shabby houses, then at teeny tiny pokey boxes of new build, then the evening talking shared responsibility and other such stuff in between giving our informed decisions on the X-factor finalists. Then I had to design and print 30 certificates for the following day’s presentation. It was a very long day yesterday.

That Barney, now he hath murder'd sleep I am a tortured soul.

Whizz whizz whizz.

Everything’s happening at once. Work is very busy – the AQA exam board moderators have been spreading gloom inconsistently in the world of GCSE ICT. Keeps me in paid employment.

Nearer home, number one son has returned from Nice with Ms Low looking very twinkly and sparkly around the left hand area. I decided I shouldn’t get a nice shiny 10 month old car since I wouldn’t need it for work for much longer. Lovely Chloe is going Miles Away to Australia. I got wor tickets for Otway and Barratt who were the highlight of my Edinburgh trip in August. They just happened to be next on at the venue where we saw a Wesker play. Great antidote they were too.

They’ve improved the IT at work so I can only do outlook calendars at my desktop shared machine – but it’s a quiet week if I’m in the office more than 2 half days – mostly it’s school to school across the beautiful landscapes. Great really. The New Greatly Improved Wireless only works for corporate strapped down machines too – not my free agent so I can try out stuff for schools one.
Hey! I’m retiring soon.

August Summary

Bah to Festivals. They are all full of Rich Kids who got free tickets cos daddy knows somebody and they’re in very expensive flash wee tents unlike our economy sized hangars and all night they say ‘Yah, Rah’ and ‘yeah yeah yeah’
We went on some serious walks in our wellies though, and heard some good stuff.
But hey to the Hawkwind fan with the labrador who gave us directions, and the lovely people of Ledbury with their tea and eggs and Other Produce.

Edinburgh seemed to have attracted the same plonkers, but there were some good shows. Boo to Pleasance who had no directions to the distant hut over yonder where King of the Gipsies was on, so we were late and wasted 4 full price tickets (unheard of mate).

I crowned my year as The New Mrs Golf by leading my wee girls to a resounding defeat in Lancashire. But we all stayed in a boarding school which was great and Pottery.

They weren't too keen on the Fire Alarm Demo


Then (in total contrast) Barney’s crew finally went out on Nanna Night. A rare sight. I no longer approach Old Age with trepidation, knowing I can be so stylish, ahem.

Which brings me to retirement... I keep refining my plan (not the same as changing my mind, quite). Today I’m going to freeze my pension and go part time, or maybe retire and hope for short contracts. Tomorrow who knows?

Tomorrow we’re at the Sage seeing Old Badly. I hope Barney doesn’t remember Milan and shout ‘Dave’.

Helping Hands

Blimey it's been all go.

Barney's off Crop Circling and I'm taking me team to the Jubilee in Lancashire early tomorrow. On Thursday we're meeting up at thye Big Chill in Eastnor, so that's why it's been all hands to the pump me hearties getting all the festival stuff into his car. That includes me clothes, since I'll be getting the train to Tina's then riding shotgun with her. I've been phoning about cups and plates, provisions and all sorts, until Tina told me about The List. It tells you what to take: " earplugs (if you're a light sleeper), condom's (if you're not)...". That's a relief.

Then I've been cleaning my car inside (a rare treat, but other people have to be in there for quite a long time, so it's a humanitarian act). Barney (possibly in anticipation of scenes of a sexual nature) did the outside with the pressure washer that makes his own car so twinkly sparkly week in week out. With erm.. results anyway. Well, I always say you can tell the extent of a chap's True Love by how meticulously he attends to the cleansing of your wheels.

Then I told him the sleeping bags aren't the same size. One for humans one for giants (scandinavian IKEA). HA HA less of them SOASN at the old chill then.

It’s Nana Night

The lasses from Barney’s work have been busy buying grey wigs and starting some knitting. Charity shops have been stripped of trolley bags. They have their specs and a pair of false teeth between them for beer related dares. Tonight’s the Big Night on the town.
He saw some of their cunning trix yesterday including the Southbound Bustline comprising a pair of tights sewn across the top and stuffed then tied into two lumps with smaller knots for nips. The legs then tie round your neck like a halter and hey presto granny’s own buzzum.

Photos to follow.

Speaking of journeys south….I’m on a train. Should that be I’M ON A TRAIN?

I’ve been to Near Winchester for a day again. It’s a Saturday so this was a hybrid journey. No trains early enough from Newcastle to get to Southampton on time and no flights back home before tomorrow night.

Oh how cheerfully I’ve been informed that a return would only cost another pound… but a return would mean an overnight stay and i’d rather have my own bed. Well, our own bed.

There have been some delays today. No Victoria line for a start, then problems North of King’s X, but you wait around a lot when you fly. As a passenger, the main difference to me has been the level of comfort waiting. There were only 4 visible seats on King’s X Station and they were down platform 1. I hadn’t realised I can no longer stand for long periods. Well, I know sometimes I get dizzy standing still, I think I’m like a shark – need to move to breathe. But this standing around lark was knacking (technical term). At least the meeting was brief – so I should be home by 8pm rather than 11 as predicted.

This week’s triumphs are software related.
Got outlook calendar from one email account to another (via access)
Got Office onto the CD drive-less netbook via a hard drive. Yip.

Bobby’s charity match tomorrow. Yip yip.