Happy birthday Prince Charles...we're going to meet your Dad next week, so I'll check that he gave you a nice pressie.
Commiserations to JFK who fifty years ago had his brains blown out. I'd like to say I know where I was when the deed happened, but truth be told, my memory as a two year old is not what it should have been.
A decade or so, someone I knew from a few skiing holidays asked if I would look after a grandfather clock she and her husband had inherited. They didn't have ceilings high enough in their home. It has stood stopped in the 'library' ever since gathering dust. In the intervening period, we have lost touch and with me changing mobile phones so often I lost anyway of contacting them. Until a month ago, there was a message left on my phone saying 'hi', how was I, and how was the clock. She wanted to talk about the clock so would call me back. I rang her back, but it went to voicemail. Nothing since. Except, The Cat's Mother now thinks we're being taken advantage of, and wants to chuck the damn thing out. She may have a point. But I quite like it.
The Boy returned from his skiing adventure yesterday. Ski Instructing Certificate clasped firmly in hand. It was just fabulous to have him back, even though he was talking ten to the dozen, and obviously he entire contents of his kit bag are spread all over the kitchen floor. From what we can gather, he had the most fantastic adventure, met some love, lovely people, improved his skiing, improved his German, and most importantly improved his confidence. It's a shame he will be heading away again, but that's what happens when they grow up isn't it? Who would be a parent?
I have a small collection of snow globes. I like to think of them as works of art (indeed one of them did come from Tate Modern and another from the Whitechapel Gallery) and none of them are of the jolly, chintzy variety that adorn souvenir shops and christmas departments. We also have some christmas snow globes, and they will no doubt be making an appearance soon. I like the idea of a little world encapsulated in a bubble of glass, and find them quite intriguing. So much so that I decided I would like to make my own. My own little snowy world created just by me, for me. You can buy kits...in fact I found one eventually in the USA. Now putting aside the fact that ParcelForce received it from our American cousins some fortnight ago, and then didn't bother to deliver it, my one issue is the cost. The kit itself was not too expensive really...well $50, so a small indulgence. But then the postage was double that. And then I had to pay £16.22 customs duty. This is already the most precious snow globe in the world, and I've not even started to create it yet.
Once upon a time this was about Me and The Boy. The it was Me, The Boy, The Cat and The Cat's Mother. And now, I'm not sure who it's about. How life changes when you least expect it!
Friday, 15 November 2013
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Summons
It's funny the things people discuss in public.
Yesterday whilst squeezed on a tube train in the rush hour, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the couple who were squashed either side of me. "I think we should get separate beds" she said. He said "OK". I turned the volume up on my music because I thought I shouldn't hear any more.
In the evening I was reading The Standard and was drawn to an article. A judge was expressing his surprise that a convicted rapist was entitled to compensation because he had been detained for too long whilst the Home Office decided whether to deport him back to his own country or not. The Judge had believed that we had opted out of some of the European Human Rights legislation as Tony Blair had declared in 2007, but he now recognised he was wrong. The article annoyed me at so many, many levels.
Last Friday was the annual Old Boys Dinner. From our year there were the usual folk...it's always good to catch up with most of them. But the lad who was a buffoon at school continues to be a buffoon and still irritates. Though you can't deny he's done well for himself as a complete banker. It's either age or drink, but I managed to forget my front door key, meaning that I was left to plead with The Cat's Mother to let me in like a naughty school boy.
The following night we were at Sadlers Wells for a bit of dance. Tango to be exact. The speed and intricacy of their movements was something to behold.
Other than that it's been quite a peaceful few days. If you exclude me issuing county court proceedings for non-payment.I'd rather not have done it, but I did. As soon as I'd filed the claim, they paid, but if I drop it I'll be several hundred pounds out of pocket for the court fees. And they do owe me interest. if it was down to The Cat's Mother I would withdraw, but really I don't see why they should get away with it....
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