Hob-Nobbing with a Judge!

Friday October 25^th.

Peter and the Wolf.

Well this has to be the best ever disappointment I have been to. I have been going on about the music [by Prokofiev] to this story all week with Angela and Peter [niece and nephew] when I have called them. They have even received my copy of the CD of the music to play before they went so they knew some of it before hand. Good old Amazon!

Imagine my shock [and their surprise] when the show and the music were different! Not to mention my Mum’s surprise!

But I get ahead of myself.

Usual walk and swim this morning, then phoned the Big Bro to see what was a foot. Yes, he did tell me it was twelve inches! If I ask him something he can make a joke from he is better to deal with for some reason. Men, eh?

So the plan: Jane was going to meet Mum at Meadowhall at about 1.00pm with Peter and Angela. They would do some retail at Meadowhall and have a spot of lunch, then Jane would zoom back to Leeds and Mum would rendez-vous with YT and the Lollster at the Montgomery Theatre at about 4.00pm. [We snook off University for the last bit of the arvo. The Kids are on half term!]

Sure enough we met Mum and sprogs as arranged. Mum kept telling them how she had taken me to see this in Norwich when I was a little girl [a sign of dementia? Saying the same thing again and again?]. Reading the programme /flyer thingy I could tell we weren’t getting Sergei P after all.

It might not have been Prokofiev but it certainly was brilliant! The story was told with puppets [by The Clydebuilt Company] and they were thoroughly marvellous. Huge, life size jobbies with the puppeteers walking along with them. The wolf was scary and friendly and humorous and deadly all at the same time, even though it was only a puppet! The music was a specially composed piece for the show and I thought it was just as good as Prokofiev’s work. At 9 and 7 Peter and Angela are an ideal age for something like this. I kept glancing across to see how they were enjoying it, they were enraptured by the whole thing.

Even more so after the show when we got to meet the puppets! The person working the duck asked Peter how much he liked it. He was gushing – in the way children are – about how he’d really, really enjoyed it. She then asked him if his Mummy and Granny had enjoyed the show. He told her that she was his granny but that I wasn’t his mummy. He then silenced the section of people by the duck with, “They’re Lesbians!” Duck lady merely said, “That’s nice!” Then started chatting to the next family. I thought Laura was crying at what had just transpired but it turns out she was quietly giggling. They thought the wolf was lovely. He had a good sniff of everybody and allowed the kids to scratch his head!

This company was brilliant. If they tour again with another show, while I have access to little kids to take along, then we’ll have to see them again. Even Mum thought they were magnificent, once she’d got over the shock of it not being what she had taken her youngest daughter to see in Norwich all those years ago.

The plan then was everyone trooped back to ours for dinner. Angela had asked for teatie pater pie, which was what she used to call Meat and Potato Pie when she was tiny, and that was what I has set up on the timer, for our meal. Mum drove up with the kids as Laura and I drove on ahead. The kids were going to spend the night with us and then we were going to drive them back up Horsforth in the morning. [Which is what we did.] Peter had the second bedroom and Angela had the daybed in the study.

When Mum and the kids finally arrived I could see she was fuming, so in a spare moment while Laura was keeping the littlies amused in the lounge I asked her what was wrong [I could guess, actually]. It was my bloody stupid brother. Using terms like lesbian and unnatural in front of his kids. I had to tell her to chill out about him. She knows he is a dinosaur anyway. I said that I thought it was only because I was obviously not a complete lesbian but only loved Laura (and didn’t fancy any other women) that he didn’t hate me and my life style altogether. He had been pleased at the thought of me marrying Richard, it was only when I started doing something which spoiled his metal image of him coming from the perfect family that his prejudices came to the fore! And, to be fair to him, he has always treated Laura with nothing less than the way he has always treated me in my pre-Laura days. I think she saw my point of view but I could tell she wasn’t a happy bunny.

After our meal Loll went off to the restaurant and Mum stayed with me and the kids until it was their bedtime. After I had put them to bed we had another chat about Phil and life and the price of coal. She whizzed off back to Holmesfield before Laura came back and then we had a similar chat about Phil and the kids and life and the price of coal, too!

We decided it was best not to get up to any hanky panky with littlies in the house. This turned out to be a wise decision because at about 2am we found a small girl at the foot of our bed asking to get in and then at about 4pm a little boy did the same! A double bed isn’t big enough for four people, so we made Peter sleep with his head by the footboard at the bottom of the bed. This was a far comfier arrangement, than trying to squeeze four of us in a line. I dread to think what Phil will say when he finds out!

A foot note. I woke up just before six to find Peter stroking my calf. He was fast asleep and was obviously just moving his hand about in his sleep. It felt really weird and oddly reassuring.

Saturday 26^th October.

We delayed swimming for an hour so that the kids could come with us (the first hour is adults only). They had brought their cossies in their little overnight bags [Peter hadn’t brought a toothbrush or toothpaste!] Obviously we didn’t swim lengths today we just had a playful splash about. Say what you want about my brother, but he has made sure they can both swim – I guess that is because he takes them sailing [which was the reason we all learned when we were toddlers, too]. They have a Topper which they sail on the reservoirs near Leeds.

Angela decided to see if she could swim a width of our pool underwater, it is a bigger pool than the one they are used to, and she did it quite easily. So we borrowed the rubber brick and went diving for that. It is so pleasing to see that they are both so at home and relaxed in the water. They bet me that I couldn’t swim a length underwater, so I did, just to show them. In fact I swam down to the shallows turned round and made it almost back to the deep end wall before my breath gave out. Peter had swum alongside me on the surface and Angela walked along the pool edge to make sure I didn’t cheat. As if! I was their hero for about 20 seconds!

I told them about diving in Australia with their Aunt Susannah and Uncle Pete. They seemed a bit wistful about the mention of them. I guess that is only natural. They have never met their Aunt and Uncle, or their three cousins. It’s quite sad really. It isn’t as though Phil cannot afford it either!

After breakfast we drove up to Horsforth and they greeted their Mum with a detailed description of their day away from home! Jane did say where Phil was but it didn’t sink in. Mum had phoned before we arrived and had relayed the “They’re Lesbians!” episode. She was really apologetic but I told her it was fine and not to worry. I have a sneaky feeling that was the real reason Philip had absented himself.

Alison’s party. [Sounds like the title for a play!]

Is there money to be made in Law, or what? Ali’s house is huge. It is just off the Ringinglow Road on the western edge of the city, and has a brilliant set of views in every direction except north. It must easily be worth more than a million! It was like stepping into a parallel universe.

She had invited about 30 people in all, some from the Chambers and some friends, plus a couple of Crown Court Judges! She’d prepared a whole huge salmon and a vast ham on the bone, plus dishes stretching to infinity of salads of various kinds. There wasn’t a half sandwich, vol-au-vent or sausage on a stick anywhere! We were told not to bother bringing any alcohol but it seemed virtually everyone had. I’d brought some Dornfelder which Ali opened immediately as she is a fan of it too.

The music for the evening seemed to be a Mike Oldfield theme. She had loaded an MP3 with seven of his albums and just left it playing. Rather different from out student days when people would fight over what music was being played and remove CDs they didn’t like to replace them with their choice. I loved the one called Incantations. I will have to see if Dad has it in his vast collection.

A surprising thing too, we weren’t the only gays in the village. I was all set to brazen out our lesbianism but it wasn’t necessary, there was a gay guy couple and two more lesbian couples so there wasn’t even a minor worry about it. The girls and I (and Loll) exchanged tales about acceptance and rejection by family and friends and colleagues; they seemed to have experienced virtually the same as we had. It was good to discover that our experiences weren’t unique.

Wandering round after the food I got into a conversation with one of the two Crown Court Judges. He asked what I did at the Chambers, I explained I was in ARR. He went down a complete blind alley, telling me he had heard all about me and the good team I had under me. He was surprised I was so young, he thought I would be older to be in such a senior position. It must’ve been the wine for it took me ages to twig he thought I was Chris Briggs! Once I explained he was amused by the mistake and said he’d just proved the tabloid press stereotype correct, that Judges are silly old duffers! He asked me whether I had ambitions to become Head of ARR one day and I had to launch into an explanation about what I was doing; my PhD and my ultimate goal of becoming a Professor. He seemed impressed that I had my career progression all mapped out before me.

Tim Carr put in an appearance at about 10.30 and did a cartoon style double take when he spotted me across the dining area. We had a long conversation that touched on a large numbers of topics related to me and my Family. I introduced Laura and he said, “So you are the little elf that has stolen Vicki’s heart? I have heard all about you from Vicki’s Dad.” When pressed he wouldn’t elaborate but changed the subject and asked me if I was going to go halves with Dad on the Arran cottage!? How the hell did he know? [Stupid thought, really. They are good friends having being through the same public school and Oxford college together.]

I told him my cost benefit analysis wasn’t favourable. I didn’t want to spend away my savings leaving me nothing for the future. He seemed to think this was an eminently sound reason but wondered why I hadn’t taken Richard’s Trust Fund into account. How much about my bloody life does he know? At this point Ali came up and naturally asked, “Trust Fund?” So he told her that Little Miss J-S, here, was to become a ‘millionairess’ in her fifties if she remained childless or very wealthy if she had any children instead! What a bloody prat! I had to then tell Ali all about Richard and his death and his parents’ court case and the settlement. Why does his friendship with my Dad make him presume he can blab my life story to all and sundry? I think Alison realised that I wasn’t happy and steered him away to meet someone else, saying she’d be back in a minute.

She actually apologised to me for her Boss’s behaviour when she came back. Evidently he is renown, not only for sleeping with some of the staff at work, but also for being the biggest gossip on the planet. When they merged the solicitors’ with the Chambers in the late 1980s they wanted to let the barristers know what they were thinking, to sort of sound them out about the idea. They told Tim all about it and it took less than two days for the head of the Chambers to get back to the Senior Partner at the solicitors!

We mingled with almost everybody at the party and talked about a huge range of subjects. It was no surprise to discover that there were people had been to every cultural event we’d attended since September [apart from Peter and the Wolf] among the mix of guests. No one person had duplicated our attendance pattern though. That must say something about the kind of person I am and they are but I’m not sure what.

We formed a small rump, at about half past one, of the hangers on. So Ali conjured up a pile of toast and some Brussels pate – helped along with some Earl Grey, it went down a treat. After putting the world to rights we wandered off at around 2.15 with the four who were left settling down for a game of Hearts. It being too difficult to explain the rules of bridge to the non-players who remained, despite our attempts.

What a good job there was no work awaiting us!

Sunday 27^th October.

Who pinched the hour? I needed a bit longer, TBH, this morning but Callie doesn’t have a watch and anyway she can only count up to two. [Doggy counting: One, two, lots, more lots!]

After her walk I fell asleep on the lounge sofa, where I might be to this moment, rooted to the spot like an old withered olive tree, were it not for a mischievous, slim blonde “elf” and a feather. The “elf” carefully opened my dressing gown and then unbuttoned my PJ jacket and proceeded to assault my erogenous zones with the feather. Once I was stirred, she removed my remaining pyjamas and went to work lower down. I have to say that a love bump caressed by a feather is unimaginably cringe-worthy and so stimulating at the same time. It certainly gets the juices flowing – literally. I bet she could have inserted a baseball bat I was so ready!

This is Laura’s variation of me sliding myself on to Richard’s morning glories, I think. I have woken up several times surprisingly damp in the nether regions due to a certain young lady’s ministrations! It is wonderful!

We spent a lot of the remains of the morning seeing how inventive we could be. That is all that needs to be said.

No sign of the storm yet, so this arvo we went to Higger Tor and did some walking and scrambling along the edges. There were masses of people out and about probably because the edges are crossed by almost a dozen roads from Sheffield and Chesterfield, so it is no real effort to get there.

Callie had a whale of a time with a spaniel who appeared from nowhere, and about 15 minutes later her breathless owners turned up, glad they had found her. She and Callie were play fighting and doing the charge game. This is where each dog charges at the other and the other has to dodge out of the way. Callie does it a lot. I think that maybe because I played a variation of it with her when she was a wee puppy, using the pooh shifting trowels in our garden. It would hit the two trowels together, making a delightful clang, and then lunge at the puppy. She’d dodge out of the way, obviously, but she’d also chase across the lawn towards me and veer off at the last minute, just out of trowel range!

Dogs just love to play.

I phoned Dad after tea and told him I would be happy to go in with a Static Caravan, especially if it was the ABI Ambleside, with opening French Doors at the front. It’s now his turn to think about it. He sent me some photographs of the pitch. It is right at the front of the site, next to the Kildonan Road, which may be noisy, but it has a huge wall between the pitch and the road plus included in the siting fee is a deck area which extends down the side of the van and then to the front between the wall and the van itself. [Hence the choice of van with French Door!] This deck is high enough to see across the wall when you are seated in a chair on it and the views are stunning. Totally uninterrupted views of Holy Island, The Firth of Clyde and the Scottish coast from The Rhins of Galloway up to Ardrossan. Even better, the wall is high enough that you don’t actually see any cars passing along the road. [OK, maybe the roof of a 4x4, but that’s all!]  

It is now my turn to wait. I have done the maths [with Laura] and it is a very do-able idea. The site doesn’t let out any of the vans and you aren’t allowed to either. Which seems a good idea, to me. Who knows, by this time next week I could be the owner of half a holiday home on Arran?

Still no storm at Dog walk time but the rain was coming down in sheets! I bet they have exaggerated the impact of this weather system to avoid lawsuits!

Cynical? Me?

Yahoo Answers News.
Last week, with 3000+ points I was 31st on the WORLD Weekly leader board.
This week, with 4000+ points I was 29th on the WORLD Weekly leader board!

Rah, Rah and indeed Rah!

[I have discovered a glitch in their system which means I can amass huge numbers of points per week. I'll get back to 72000+ inside a year, you see!]

Laughter is the best medicine?

Monday 21^st October.

Sometimes funny things happen right in front of me [like when the old biddy in her car drove off before her equally wrinkly husband had properly got in and he ended up hopping alongside the car like he was using it as a child’s scooter] and I love those moments. I had another today.

Work and play was pretty much as usual today. I met a couple of my Tutor Students who were feeling homesick as their friends still at school were on half term and we don’t have those. I think they were surprised when I told them to take Friday off and go home for the weekend! If they left on Thursday night they’d get a full half term day with their chums. [I also told them I would deny I ever said this!]

We walked and swam as usual and, as the restaurant had only a few bookings, Dom Told Laura she could swap for another night if she wanted. We went to Ruth and Dave’s instead.

Ruth and Dave are some of my Jewish friends [long story, I won’t recount it here]. Dave is a prat of the first order. He claims to have ME and as such doesn’t work and claims invalidity benefit and all sorts of allowances. He is on medication which seems to be personality changing. He used to be a laid back, funny guy who would do anything to help you. He is now become tetchy, short tempered and, to be frank, a positively unpleasant old curmudgeon! I have been friends with them since I was a tot [they were friends of Mum & Dad] and I kept up the acquaintance after M & D’s divorce.

Ruth is redecorating her lounge. They have a lovely leather three piece suite and they are wanting to cover the walls with paper and paint that reflect the colour of the suite. Seems logical, really. You would love the Sanderson print wallpaper they’ve bought, it is gorgeous BUT the paint is a real bug bear. They have bought over £30 worth of match pots! They just can’t decide on a colour. Tonight a new one had arrived and Ruth insisted Dave put some of it on the walls so I could give my opinion of the colour. [It came during the day, by courier from Farrow & Ball apparently.]

Now Dave opened the match pot in the lounge and poured the paint into a small tray and then proceeded to roller it on to the wall in four of five places around the room. So far so un-silly. While we were waiting for it to dry [BTW, I thought painting at night was a stupid idea as the light wouldn’t show the true colour of the paint, but I kept schtum!] Ruth went into the kitchen to make us a cup of tea. Loll and I went to help out. She makes her tea in mugs, not a teapot!

Dave had painted the walls in question with splodges of the match pot colour when we strolled back into the lounge with the tea. He had also managed to pull one of the covers from the sofa, exposing the leather. Ruth went, “Oh Dave. You’ve not got paint on the sofa have you?” and she pulled the cover back into place. She wasn’t too know, because you couldn’t see it, that Dave had left the tray and lidless match pot on the cupboard behind the sofa, so when she pulled the cover the match pot and paint tray went flying! Luckily they had put plastic sheeting down on the floor, so the paint only splashed the wall then made a puddle on the sheeting. I thought this was very funny. I know schadenfreude! But what happened next was funnier and serves them right for not listening to me.

I saw the door start to open and said, in a loud voice, “Look out. I think Ellie is trying to get in!” Ellie is their Tibetan Terrier. They ignored me. I tried again with “The door, Ruth!” Either she didn’t hear [unlikely] or didn’t get what I was saying, because seconds afterwards Ellie trotted in, danced in the paint behind the sofa and then trotted out again; followed by Dave bellowing at the dog as it left painted paw prints all down the hall carpet and into the kitchen!

I had to do something to distract myself as I had a huge fit of the giggles welling up inside. I could feel my face adopting a rictus grin as I tried to stop the giggles bursting out. Luckily Laura surreptitiously speed dialled my phone and I looked down as though I had received a message on it. Ruth knows nothing about phones! I claimed I had a message telling me my brother had arrived at our house and we needed to go. We scooted out, past the new dog print carpet, as quickly as we could. Yelling our goodbyes as we went.

Outside the two of us just hooted all the way to the car and for quite a lot of the way back home. It was the fact they’d ignored my warnings about the dog and it had re-patterned their carpet as a result which had tickled me so much. It wasn’t quite the tears down the face, sides aching laughter I sometimes get, but more of relief. If I had burst out laughing at R & D’s that could have been the death knell on our friendship. It was bubbling up under the surface and, like a fart in a bath, the results could have been hilarious but so embarrassing.

A footnote to this. They went to John Lewis the day after and their design team matched the paper with fabric for curtains and the right shade of paint. 

They should have done that in the first place, methinks!

Tuesday October 22^nd.

Well. I have decided about Arran. I drew up a cost / benefit analysis chart and the costs outweighed the benefits by quite a lot. I suppose if I hadn’t got a mortgage on my little house I would have looked at it differently but I don’t want to start paying out for something extra which will be an on-going cost and deplete my savings too. I know Dad is of the opinion we could earn income from tourist use of the place but I trawled masses of Arran Holiday websites and apart from the main summer holiday months most of the properties seem to be “un-let” for a lot of the year. Brook Cottage, in Whiting Bay [where we have stayed twice now] wasn’t booked at all from the beginning of September until the school half term, which has just finished. It isn’t booked again until Christmas!

I spoke to Dad about it and he is pretty sanguine. He knows that once I have made up my mind I have done so through a thorough and careful examination of all the pros and cons. He is not upset or anything. I didn’t think he would be, TBH. He has used my unemotional approach as a sounding board and has also decided not to go ahead. He has a back-up plan, though! Typical Dad. The Whiting Bay Caravan Park has a vacant pitch. Their site fee is £2K per year and to site a brand new van on the pitch would cost £30 to £35K, depending on the van.

Now Uncle Chris has a Static Caravan and it is as well-equipped as my house! Fully insulated, centrally heated, double-glazed. His even has a built in washing machine! If Dad is thinking of buying something like that I could easily go along with it. He has e-mailed all the details and some photographs of the pitch and the site and the costs involved. Now this is a runner! He doesn’t need an immediate answer but I think I could go along with this one. I have no rush as the pitch has been vacant for a year, apparently [the site owner blames the recession!] but I have told him I’ll let him know by the weekend. He has agreed to wait.

The two job day was as eventful as usual. Also as usual I had a visit from Christopher who came to talk about the concert on Saturday. I will just have to get used to him wanting to be my friend I suppose. So long as he doesn’t go all “lovey dovey” again.

I had a mad e-mail from Nadia. She has invited me and “my significant other” over to Derry if we want before Christmas! I mean, come on Nadia. I am not going to inflict your bigotry on Laura. The e-mail was very conciliatory but I have lost trust in her veracity. I would quite like a visit to Northern Ireland but I think Miss Nadia wouldn’t form part of my itinerary.

Laura has got a First for her current assignment. The one she spent the last two weekends polishing. I am really pleased and impressed. I feel so much out on a limb when it comes to her studying. I am so un-mathematical, I feel kind of guilty that I can’t help or assist her in anyway. I told her this and she said that just being here and caring that she does well was enough encouragement. The never ending cups of tea and the making her stop for brain breaks etc have all contributed to her grade. She just loves the fact that I know what to do to help her remain focused even though I have no idea of what the work involves.  What else would I do? I just love her so much. I hate feeling as though I am helpless with maths!

I had a Skype session with Jill while Loll was at work. It must have been the early hours of the morning in Warnbro. I was a bit worried. Seems I have every right to be. Jill wants to have sex with this guy from school and was wanting some advice! Should she go ahead and do it? Apparently she has already let him finger her and she has wanked him off! I tried my best not to look shocked or get upset, even though every bone in my body was screaming “NOOOOOOOOOO!” What the fuck am I supposed to tell her? I am so scared that what ever I do Susannah will find out and I’ll be in shit so deep I’ll never get out. I have made her promise that she will not tell her Mum that she has spoken to me for advice. She has always been good about keeping her promises. This is so different, however.

One plus side, I asked her what she was going to do about birth control. She said she’d not thought about it. So after a rant along the ether about how stupid that was and the confession that I had fallen pregnant even while taking the pill [I had to use shock tactics to get the message across] she agreed that they would not have sex until they had sorted out contraception! I hope she wasn’t just paying lip service to that. I have told her that if she ever tells anyone about my pregnancy I will personally fly out to Australia and kill her!

The compromise. They are not going to stop fiddling about with each other. I sort of guessed that. She is going to go to her GP and ask for the pill. She is going to refuse to have sex at all until that happens and also if her BF doesn’t have a condom. She may decide to try and give him a blowjob on the understanding that is she does, he has to lick her to orgasm too!  [She wanted to know how to do that properly, so I explained what I did when giving them.] I was almost in tears hearing my 16 year old niece talking like this. I know it is part of her growing up and if she hadn’t spoken to me she’d have gone ahead and done it anyway. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear or talk about.

She wanted to know all about my pregnancy and what I did about it and why. I told her as much as I could to try and impress upon her that while sex is wonderful it does have repercussions too, which need to be in your mind all the time. Having an abortion, while it seems perfectly acceptable at the time, and in your circumstances, does leave a horrible nagging seed in the back of your mind, which never goes away. It makes you a different woman afterwards, even though you may delude yourself that it doesn’t.

OMG. My relationship with Jill has changed forever. I did have a huge cry after she had logged off. I am devastated by this revelation. I should sort of guessed by her interest in things sexual she displayed over the summer. I am inclined to speak to Susannah anyway just to put her in the picture. BUT would Jill ever forgive me if she found out and would she ever confide in me again?

My even bigger worry, which is selfish and wrong and shows just how partisan I am, is the thought of going through a similar conversation with Annabelle. It would break my heart to have her confess to me what Jill has just done. Laura was my reassuring shoulder when she got back from the restaurant, although her thoughts and observations on the fact that Annabelle sounded as though she may be gay didn’t exactly ease my worries and fears. [TBH I had thought that about Annabelle myself but I would never express it out loud!]

Wednesday 23^rd October.

Happy Wednesday.

Much happier Wednesday. If I ever have another call like Jill’s I don’t know what I’ll do. I answered her concerns as truthfully and as honestly as I could. I hope I have done the right thing? I am not going to tell Susannah. I just can’t. If anything could put you off being a mother it is this!

Still today was great. Walk and swim as usual. Work was pretty sensible and straightforward. My favourite barrister has invited me and my partner to a party at her house this weekend. We will probably attend. Mrs Briggs has been invited but hardly any other people from XXX & Y solicitors. Christopher is not on the guest list. Phew.

The best thing about today was the tea bag incident. It has kept me amused all day. It happened at about 8.10 this morning. We had a punnet of strawberries in our fridge, which we ate with our dinner last night. After dinner I washed the pots and Laura cleared the rubbish. This is important. She normally puts the plastic rubbish in the plastic recycle bin at the top of the cellar steps. [We have three recycle bins, paper, glass and plastic.] For some reason, known only to my gorgeous blonde bombshell, she put the strawberry punnet into the ‘normal’ rubbish bin. That was the important bit. Why?

Well at 810am I made a third pot of tea for the morning. I emptied the tea pot into the sink, put a fresh tea bag into the pot and poured the boiling water in, leaving it to mash. At the sink I squeezed out the tea bag and ran some water down the sink to take away any staining liquid. I then turned around, stamped on the pedal bin’s pedal and flung the tea back into the bin.

Before the bin lid had time to crash back down, the tea back came hurtling back out of the bin [with the same force with which I’d thrown it in] and it hit Callie, full square on the top of her head! She looked up, then looked around, sniffed at the offending missile and did a doggy stomping off to flop in her crate on her bean seat.

Described it takes minutes, to watch it took seconds, to explain it to Laura and to tell her why I was hysterical with laughter took about fifteen minutes. There were tears running down my cheeks, my sides ached. Every time I tried to explain I just started laughing again. Eventually Laura joined me in laughing even though she had no idea why!

Evidently, the bag had hit the end of the strawberry punnet and, obeying Newton’s Law of motion, the equal and opposite reaction had occurred – causing the tea bag to make a hasty exit from the bin to whack the poor pup lying on the kitchen floor minding her own doggy business. It was so funny. So totally unexpected. If I had tried to set it up as a visual gag I don’t think I ever could. It was one of those, ‘everything just clicks into place at the same moment’ events. I could even pour out the tea I was laughing so much.

Laura, in the lounge heard the commotion and thought my laughter was a continuation of yesterday’s Jill’s tears and came through to comfort me. I couldn’t do anything other than say “Dog, bin, teabag” – which sounds a bit like an Arab terrorist’s name –before dissolving into the hysterical giggles again.

You couldn’t have asked for a better antidote to the gloom of last night. I collapsed into giggles at work too, every time I recounted the flying teabag tale to my colleagues. That is two very silly things in the space of three days. I don’t know if my jaws and sides can stand any more laughter this week.

Thursday 24^th October.

The 16!

I have never been in St Marie’s Cathedral before, but you could tell you were in a Catholic Church at once. It brought all sorts of memories flooding back. Some were good, some not so good. Laura was being the extreme one tonight and I was the girly one. She was in leather jeans so tight they needed the two of us to help her get in them. She had a bandeau on in the same shade of red as the jeans and her hair was spiked with chopsticks and tangled with ribbons. She’d borrowed my stiletto porn star shoes and looked scary as hell. On top of this she wore my detective’s rain coat, as it was pouring down when we set off and continued all of the journey and walk to the church too!

The concert was very good but an example of if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. They had done a reworking of Allegri’s Miserere which, to my ears at least, did it no favours at all. They had taken out the treble / soprano top C section and had messed around with it in other ways too. I had been explaining to Laura just how wonderful that bit was when I had seen them before and they didn’t even do it!

In contrast they performed a new working of the text by a chap called Macmillan which was brilliant. So much so that I have ordered a CD of the Macmillan Miserere from Amazon.

I thought it was a good idea to put two Misereres on the same bill as they were totally different interpretations of the same words. It is a pity that the new one was far better than the one Mozart was alleged to have stolen from the Vatican!

All in all, the performance was very good. Although I did hear some stuffed shirts voicing the same opinion about the Allegri which I had said earlier. That was a bit disconcerting to find that I wasn’t alone in my views and that people who looked as though they were dead from the neck up shared my opinion. Just goes to show that the books and covers adage is true!

Laura just thought the whole thing was wonderful. She hasn’t seen The 16 before and they are a revelation when you hear them. It had stopped raining after the concert so we strolled through the city centre via the Peace Gardens and Fargate [in a big loop] to where I had parked the car. The rain didn’t seem to have deterred the Thursday night revellers out in the city. Or even make them review the clothes they were wearing. Why are there so many guys out at night in T shirts or ordinary shirts but no coats? It is baffling. Perhaps where there is no sense there is no feeling!

Tomorrow is the third of our three concerts in a week, when we are taking the nephew and niece to see Peter and the Wolf. They are going to Granny’s for the afternoon, she will come with them to the Montgomery Theatre and then YT has drawn the short straw of driving them back to Leeds afterwards. I may work on Phil and Jane to change that arrangement! A party on Saturday night means we will have had a very busy week!

To Buy or Not To Buy, That is the Question...

Friday October 18^th.

Dad wants to buy a holiday cottage on Arran! In Whiting Bay to be exact. It is a very sweet looking, 2 bedroomed cottage, with dormer windows and a lounge kitchen. It is semi-detached and faces East over the Firth of Clyde towards Ardrossan and South towards the Giant’s Graves. It is a really cute looking place. It has a semi-circle of grass round it and a gravel driveway. The bathroom is downstairs built onto the side of the house. It has double glazing, oil central heating and a wooden shed/outbuilding which has masses of room. There is a patio outside the south side which would be ideally placed for a large conservatory along that wall. They asking price is “Upset” at £145K. This means the seller is asking for sealed bids on the property.

He has asked whether I want to join him and Philip in a three was split of the cottage. He is considering an offer of £160K and would expect us each to put up £55K to cover the cost of the purchase, the conveyancing fees and buying some furniture if we get it. I was going to phone Phil any way about it, but when I saw he’s going to be a third owner I definitely did. He isn’t sure to be honest. I don’t think he can lay his hands on the readies. When I bought my house, with Gran’s legacy, he used his to splash out on a huge place at Horsforth; so I imagine he hasn’t got the pile in the bank that I have. My little house was a quarter of the price he paid for his! [In fact I get an investment income from the residue which I could almost live on!]

I called Dad and he’d been speaking to Dead Loss Phil, who would like to join him but… “Can’t afford it!” That tends to be his mantra these days. I guess with a third child on the way he will need some cash, yet I thought he would have kept some back for a rainy day. It turns out he hadn’t expected Phil to be interested at all, but in order not to cause a huge family feud he had asked him anyway! He has also asked Susannah and Peter for the same reason. The sealed bid deadline is four weeks away so we have plenty of time to think and discuss etc. He’s open to a 50/50 split or a 60/40 split or whatever agreement we come to, really. He could buy it all on his own but he’d thought about how much I loved Arran and figured I’d jump at the chance. It is very, very tempting.

I will talk with Laura and Mum. Have another chat with Phil and then arrange to see Dad as soon as possible. He has written out some proposals in the documents that came with the courier I need to have a good look at them. I will get Christopher to cast his love struck eyes over them too. He is also an accountant [at XXX &Y] and in never hurt to get a second opinion.

We discussed it briefly on the drive in to Uni and Loll was amazed that I even had the money to consider such a proposition. Feli thought I should go it for immediately. Her folks have a place in the Pyrenees which they let out for most of the year but to which they used to go quite often. Her Mum and Dad get a regular income from the holiday lettings, that was something I hadn’t even thought about.

Parents don’t half surprise you.

After work we planned what we were going to wear to the Halle on Saturday and I said I fancied the see through black blouse I’ve got, with my black, glittery bandeau underneath. I usually wear it with a camisole under it but the bandeau would be very extreme, especially as it stays on with will power only! I’d wear the bright red ankle boots this time and maybe the black shorts. She told me to try them on to show me what I meant.

That almost made her late for work. The bandeau had two chapel hat pegs sticking through it. I didn’t mean to get aroused, honest. She just had to fondle them, then kiss them through the fabric, then kiss in the flesh and then…. We were almost late for her shift at the restaurant! When I got back I discovered we had torn the see through blouse, so I spent a good twenty minutes carefully repairing the split seam. It reminded me of the time Richard made alterations to an old T-shirt with a pair of scissors. He cut two holes in the front so that my nipples poked through. We has quite a long session after that too!

Enough, I will need a bucket of cold water thrown over me.

Saturday 19^th October.

Swam and walked as per…

Still the Lollster polishes her assignment. Shame it is mathematical theorem etc otherwise I could cast a beady eye across it. As it is, I haven’t a clue whether she is on the right track or wandering in the Dutch Garden.

Mega clean this morning. I mean mega. Laura found me cleaning the storage jars at one point. She made me stop and have some tea. They needed cleaning. She just put the buggers back. When she disapparated back to the study I made sure they were properly clean. One has to have standards or the world as we know it may come crashing around our ears.

I fixed our extractor hood! I took the switch box off again and found where the corroded cable had broken. I don’t know how the cable corroded. I broddled about with the screwdriver. A bit risky I know but I have done stuff with electricity before and not been frazzled. The end of my tester kept lighting up, so I moved the switch box a bit more and found an old bit of wire which looked like it could have been the other end of the corroded cable. My tester told me the old bit was live so I switched the whole lot off, said a prayer and snapped my mole grips on to the end and very gently pulled it. I was able to bring out enough wire to snip off the manky bit, expose some fresh copper and reattach it to the terminal. Before I put the box back I switched the power on and the result? Success! Rah rah rah! I guess it must have been years of moisture that had caused it to corrode.

When Laura came down for lunch I showed her my handiwork. She asked, “What did you do?” So I told her I’d hit it! She believed me for about a millisecond. I have just saved £80 by fixing it.

She was still being mathematically inclined during the afternoon, so after the Times Jumbo Cryptic I took the woofie for a walk. We went up to Greno Woods. Which turned out to be a sensible decision because the heavens opened again and but for the cover of the trees, we’d have been drenched AGAIN.

Showered and fed we whizzed off to the City Hall. In a thunderstorm. Luckily I had the trusty Jennings umbrella in the Quokka so we didn’t get wet, too much. My see through top caused a few heads to turn. I wished I’d had a flesh coloured bandeau; that would have given some of the old fossils heart attacks. The mini and the boots were an ideal accompaniment again. I had my black silk bolero top to complete the ensemble. Laura had done my eyes to look like three stripes of colour slashing diagonally across them which was quite shocking too. We bumped into Christopher and another girl! The dark horse! He never said. He did spend a lot of the time we were together talking to my bosom, which I thought might annoy his new girlfriend until she piped up with the fact that she was pleased her big brother had asked her to come along!

The Sibelius was as good as it always is. The Elgar cello Concerto was excellent. I just love the power and attack the cellist brings to bear in the opening. You are half expecting their bow to break one of the cello’s strings, it is played with such force. The Shostakovich was new to me but very enjoyable. I have a few of his later works but not this one.

Lucy was really sweet. We met them again in the interval [unplanned] and when her brother went off to the gents she said “He has the most massive crush on you, you know?” I told her that I did know and that perhaps she hadn’t understood when I introduced Laura as my girlfriend. I have never seen anyone go so red so quickly. It was like a cartoon effect. She had regained her normal complexion by the time the offending brother returned and we continued to exchange inane pleasantries as though I hadn’t told this little innocent that Laura and I were lesbians. I could tell she would have asked masses of questions if Christopher hadn’t been there so, as we moved off to take our seats, I slipped her one of my cards. It has my mobile number and e-mail address on and a picture of a tiny me clinging to Nape’s Needle along one edge. I wonder if I’ll hear from her.

Laura thought it was funny and said we ought to invite Lucy round, sans brother. I asked her if she meant what I thought she meant. She said that Lucy obviously though the same as her brother by the way she was drinking me in as we spoke, and maybe we could introduce her to the Sapphic pleasures. Much better than my ‘hitting the extractor’ I have to admit. A definite one nil to the Cumbrian.

I asked her, after a breathless few minutes in bed, if she would ever do something like that – invite a girl back for a threesome. She said that made it two nil, if I was still brooding on it. Of course the answer was no! Sometimes my naivety is appalling.

Sunday 20^th October.

We went to Dove Dale today, dodged a few spots, and had a really good stroll along the banks of Isaak Walton’s favourite piece of water. I haven’t been down this far before but the route finding was a doddle and the walking ideal for a geriatric in their dotage to be honest. The guide book recommended a walk down the Dove and a return up the Manifold, so that was what we did.

For a flat walk it was very tiring. There was good cave to explore along the Manifold valley though which sort of made up for the lack of effort needed in the walk or the route. I was so pleased we’d arranged to be at Mum’s for Sunday evening tea though. The cave was huge and apparent had been used for centuries, there seemed to be a fair number of iron tool marks in the walls to my eyes though. It was a Mecca for modern tourists as loads of people came into the cave while we were there. It seems to have been used as a byre in the past as there was a large quantity of cow pooh on the floor of the cave.

We finished off our flask of tea in the cave and used it as a temporary shelter from the rain, too. The rain didn’t seem to be easing any so we trudged on through it back to the car. Gore text is a great fabric really. It is a pity Callie didn’t have a doggy raincoat as she was soaked to the skin when we got back to the car and shivering quite a bit too, despite the fact it was so mild. I might buy one for her!

Mum was intrigued by Dad’s proposal. Her advice [like she’d told me in a snap decision over the phone] was; if I could afford it – go for it. TBH, I am wary of hacking into my savings like that. I know it makes sound business and personal sense but I feel a nagging doubt. I think it is the fact I didn’t have the idea. It is someone else’s. Yes, that someone else is Dad, which makes it 100% trustworthy but….

He doesn’t need an answer straight away. So I’ll make a Cost benefit analysis spread sheet and see what that throws out.

Callie didn’t want to come away from Mum’s fireplace as we got ready to leave. I could sort of see why, in a way. Being an independent woman is not as safe and secure as living in the heart of your family, for an instant I had a brief pang of homesickness! Weird really, as this house I never considered my home. Just a base from which to go to University.

Lollster thought the White Peak wasn’t as exciting as the Dark Peak. She thought it was too safe and unthreatening. 

Yaay! 

There is no wonder I love this girl so much!

Wobbly Willies and a stripper in the garden!

Monday 14^th October.

Harry’s daughter was called Joan. I have never met a Joan before. She’s the one who called Henry “Harry”. In fact everybody calls him Harry and she didn’t understand why he had called himself Henry when I spoke to him in the car immediately after the crash. She is about a few years younger than Mum, I’d guess. She is tiny. I know Mum isn’t exactly an Amazon but this woman was positively microscopic in comparison. She was also very small featured. When she was younger she must’ve looked like a doll.

We met in the café which has an entrance on York Street and one overlooking the Cathedral Precincts. I had ordered a pot of Earl Grey for one and an apple and custard Danish when she arrived. She was looking anxiously around the room and then caught my eye and headed straight for my table. We established who we were and she sat down just as the waitress arrived with my tea. She wrinkled her nose at the idea of joining me in an Earl Grey and ordered a latte with an extra shot.

Before we could even get to pleasantries I asked how her father was. That seemed to make her relax enormously and she launched straight into a paean of praise for the treatment he’d been receiving and how the poor nurses were rushed off their feel and just how busy the wards were. I felt as though my ears had been pinned back in the sudden rush of words. I couldn’t get a word in edgeways at all for a good five minutes. Her coffee stopped her flow and I took up the bat.

I explained as carefully as I could exactly what had happened that morning. Probably in more detail than I’d given to the police woman at the scene. I didn’t mention that I thought the branch could have hit us instead of her Dad’s car, but she did. She didn’t seem to think our good fortune had caused her Dad’s bad fortune which was a relief. She asked me where I worked and I told her I was an archivist at XXX &Y solicitors. She seemed surprised at this and said the policeman had told her I was a student, so I went into the whole saga of the job, then the Uni, then my new job at the Uni and taking the old job part-time. I don’t think I confused her [too much].

I gave her a CD of the film I had taken from my phone and was pleased to hear she had a computer and was quite proficient in using it. Apparently the insurance company are going to write off her Dad’s car. I thought that was pretty quick turnaround. She was glad I had filmed a lot of the branch which had caused the accident; she seemed to think someone should have brought it from the accident site but nobody had!

We spent the rest of the time chatting. She has a son and a daughter. The son is a teacher [only just started] and her daughter is a buyer for Lewis’s department store in town. I told her about the Lion attack on Saturday and she was surprised that someone as conservative as me would do something like that. I guess she had looked at what I was wearing and arrived at a whole load of conclusions about me.

My Outfit:  two piece suit; dark pin striped jacket and matching (pencil) skirt. Pale lilac blouse, black tights and a pair of pale lilac courts. A lilac handbag and pashmina.  Hair drawn back and fastened with an Alice band. I do like getting dressed up for work. I wondered what she’d have made of me in Thursday’s gear? Tight jeans, stiletto ankle boots, blue blouse tied in a knot over my exposed belly button, short denim jacket, Arabic square scarf –also blue, a blue beret and hair in two pigtails down each side of my head. Oh and a patchwork rucksack. I bet the word conservative wouldn’t even have crossed her mind, never mind her lips!

We had a good old gossip for another half an hour or so (two more drinks, more Earl Grey and Latte, extra shot) during which I heard a load about her life story and she heard selected snippets of mine. Harry is an ex-bus driver and has never had an accident before in his life! Joan works for a dairy somewhere that I hadn’t heard of, but in the office, not milking cows. I think she has obviously said that joke all her life! She promised to keep me informed of Harry’s progress [I’d given her my e-mail addy and my landline number] and we parted.

I strolled back to work and more translations. Felice and Laura had had lunch together! That is why my ears felt so hot! I am so pleased they get on. Laura had been hearing about Feli’s love life. [It sounds very exotic and complicated to me.] Laura had told the story of our first kiss on Piccadilly Station, in Manchester, and how she’d fled on to the train before I had a chance to react or do anything else. Feli thought this was so cute. [It was! I'd sat in my car for ages afterwards rubbing my finger across my lips and wondering if we would ever do it again.]

I had an e-mail waiting at home from Phil saying sorry he’d been a prat on Saturday. I wonder why it took him two days? I’ll bet the kids were full of the Room on the Broom and he realised his kid sister wasn’t trying to undermine him at all. [Ha, I doubt it!]

Still bloody horrible weather so I drove Laura both ways tonight. The restaurant was really slack tonight.

Tuesday 15^th October.

Dog walk then swim and no rain.  Rah, rah rah!

Off into work as usual. Decided to cut down on the tea a little bit as I have got through a whole box of Earl Grey tea bags already, plus I am visiting the toilet like it was going out of fashion! We had a really silly time this morning as Feli recounted the tale of how her family got stranded on a sandbank at la bassin d'arcachon in their yacht, for three days, as nobody realised they were stuck! We used to go to that very region ourselves in the camper van when I was a kid.

She even remembered the nudist camp, where we went accidentally once [I assume it was accidental] and I had to witness a naked Mum and Dad for three days. Quite an unusual  thing for a six year old! [Feli asked, “Does he have an unusual thing?” and we lost in big time for quite a while.] I don’t imagine Andrea and I would have been as silly and giggly.

We had done pretty basic sex-ed at school and I remembered being quite worried that there was something wrong with his willy as it was so dangly and wobbly. It would never get inside Mummy to make more babies! I am so pleased I never asked them about that! Feli thought that was hysterical; the daughter worrying about her Dad’s wobbly willy!

That was the final straw. The idea of wobbly willies was too much for us both. I ended up with tears streaming down my face and my sides aching. Feli started this deep whooping sort of laugh which sounded like a bird being strangled. We made so much noise that a guy from the department came to our office to check that we were OK.

I mean, how could we explain to this middle aged bloke what the hell we were in hysterics about? He’d have died from the shock. He had heard the whoops and was quite concerned for our safety, bless him. It didn’t help that I mouthed, “I bet his is wobbly” to Feli behind his back.

The afternoon was scheduled to be calmer as I was back at XXX&Y digitising the records some more. I met another guy whose willy probably wasn’t wobbly near me! Bloody Christopher came to seek me out, again! He wanted to know something about the Halle Concert next week, or that was his excuse. I think he wanted to be near me and hope that I would forget all what I had told him and ask him to ‘screw me like I have never been screwed before’ – or something like that! That’s what they always seem to want. Some bollox like that.  I think he is going to have a long wait.

Wednesday 16^th October.

Oh, to be in England now that spring is here!

Jesus H Christ. This is the sixth consecutive day of grotty weather! What is going on? OK yesterday was fine, I suppose –says she grudgingly. But I mean…

I am going to put in an official complaint. Something needs to be done!

Had a phone call from Dad. He wonders if I’d be interested in going in with him on a cottage purchase on Arran?

What the F? What planet is he on? He’s rolling in it, why does he want me to stump up some dosh too?

He’s couriered down the details and I should get them tomorrow morning. 

The cottage is in Whiting Bay. Quite small. Semi-detached, 2 bedrooms and faces south and east. It is up one of the roads that runs at right angles to the main road round the island and you get a view towards Ayr, across the Clyde, one way and Giant’s Graves the other.

That explains where he and Louisa have been for the past few days. He hasn’t been answering either his home phone or his mobile.

I am not sure what to think, despite my earlier reaction. It may be a great idea, would it mean we are pricing some poor local out of the housing market if we buy a property on there? He asked me not to tell Mum, so of course that is what I did immediately. She is gobsmacked that he would be thinking of doing something like that.

When I get the details I’ll be in touch with Big Bro. He is the whizz on all matters financial, being an accountant.

In a quandary.

Thursday 17^th October.

Walked and swam as usual and at 8am a courier arrived with Dad’s Arran stuff. Didn’t have time to do anything as Feli and I were off to Halifax to look at a casket from around the time of our box, which is in private ownership. Laura took my car and Feli and I went in hers. She has never been to Halifax before [me neither, I hasten to add] and we got hopelessly lost. I had to resort to using the sat nav on my phone to direct us there.

We knew we were lost because one of the lady's instructions was: Don’t cross the river and canal. If you do that you’ve gone wrong. Whoops. We crossed them four times altogether. I guess having a left hand drive car in the UK doesn’t help. Plus, our route took us down a lane so narrow, between some large looking factories, it looked to me like a work’s entrance, so I told Feli, “No. That’s not it.” It bloody was! What a chump!

The woman who owns the casket lives in a really big, stone built house in its own grounds, surrounded by fields. One of which is a school playing field for a large school we could just about see in the distance. The lady, who was called Susan, offered us some tea and was delighted that we liked Earl Grey. Her house was huge but minimal. There was very little furniture and what there was looked as though it may have cost a packet.

We sat in a lounge that had just four leather reclining chairs, a TV and a stand, two lamps and a small nest of tables and that was it! The walls were covered with embroideries, though, and I spent an age walking round looking at them all. She has been doing needlework for sixty plus years and you can tell. Some of the pieces were exquisite. It made me realise how little I had actually done with my sewing.

She had two pieces, she’d rescued from her Mum, which were done when she was a primary school pupil. They were so cute and naively childish. It made me wish I had something like that to put on display too. There was one really striking piece which was called Secret Garden. It was of a wall with an open iron gate set into it. Through the gate you could see a cartoon style rickety house. It was the most wonderful piece I have ever seen. I wish I had taken a note of the designer’s name because I would love to buy the pattern and sew it myself. [I have searched for it on the web but to no avail. So far!]

The casket was tiny compared to our hefty thing and covered with embroidery all over, even underneath! It was quite like the two in the Victoria and Albert Museum but in a much better condition. It has been in Susan’s family for as long as she can remember.  The back panel has a really delicate Tree of Life pattern. There are flowers and garlands on most of the surfaces and the front has Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden on each of the two doors. We spent over an hour just looking, sketching, measuring and photographing. It is a truly brilliant object.

We then had another hour and a half joining Susan in a lunch she had prepared for us of sandwiches and soup and then cake for dessert. I was really surprised by this. Feli had said the Lady had said she’d stand us lunch but she didn’t quite get the idiom. Her kitchen was unbelievable. Again totally minimal in its style. Plain pale marble work tops and sink, with a mixer tap exactly like mine [I had bought the most expensive one Howden’s sold to make up for having a cheaper work top.] The most striking things  were the cupboard doors, they were black but had a sort of glass finish. They weren’t glass, obviously, but whatever the black stuff was it was polished to look just like it. It was not the sort of kitchen you would have associated with the house at all. From the outside you would have expected a traditional Farmhouse, Wooden kitchen.

We had an explore of Halifax centre afterwards, which was nothing to write home about, to be honest. We then moseyed back to Sunny Sheffield [it was shrouded in mist this time] via Huddersfield. Big mistake! We should have gone across the M62 and down the M1 but bugger lugs here wanted to see what Huddersfield was like. Silly cow! Halifax to Huddersfield is about 6 miles. It took us over an hour to get from the M62 junction to the road out on the Sheffield side of the town.

At one point Feli wound her window down and volleyed a stream of French invective at a motorist surprised to find a left hand drive car alongside and a woman screaming at him in French! He had pulled out of a junction without stopping, and even I had braced myself and closed my eyes as I thought it was going to hit us.  I did the typical French shoulder shrug with upturned palms at him as he looked across Felice to catch my eye. What the hell he thought I would do?

We decided that Uni could be given miss for the rest of the day, and Feli came back to mine. For another cuppa and a calm down. Laura was surprised to find a sleeping Frenchwoman on our sofa when she rolled in. Just in time for tea.

All three of us went and played with Callie in the field behind our house after tea, giving her some exercise after being cooped up all day. She is good at torch light retrieving. I am not so good at avoiding obstacles in the dark, though and went arse over tit straight into a vast expanse of mud! The other two just laughed! Which I found seriously annoying. 

After being helped up, eventually, by a giggling girlfriend and frolicking French woman, in a fit of pique I stripped off down to my bra and knickers, there and then in the field! I marched back into my garden, stomped down the path, threw my clothes down on the floor of the conservatory and went to have a shower! They found this even more hilarious!

Friends, eh?

I still haven’t looked at Dad’s stuff. Finger out tomorrow.

Lion attack in Lewis's. Woman unhurt!

Friday 11th October.

I don't believe it, part two. Microsoft office had started to behave like a Tory Politician. Fcuking up all over the place!
It has buggered up Word and now Outlook. I will have to spend a long time shouting at someone on the phone tomorrow. It cost a bloody arm and a leg to buy this new version. I was happy with old Office 2000 but my new laptop didn't like it. Grrr.

Busy day at work today. Meeting students, working on our translations, and a departmental meeting that just went on and on and on and on........ Jesus H Christ! If I ever become a Professor I hope I will learn to run meetings better than this! We had an agenda, which we sort of abandoned. People kept referring back to items after they had been closed. Some one tried to introduce a non-agenda item four times, and was told each time to wait until Any Other Business, and when that came around he'd changed his mind! I could have taken a cattle prod to most of them. Dozy old duffers!

The woman senior lecturer sat opposite me and I kept looking at each other and raising our eyes to the ceiling in despair. She told me afterwards she was seriously thinking of texting one of her students and asking them to set off the fire alarm! I mean, the signing of the previous minutes alone took over a bloody year - or so it seemed.

Laura has a massive assignment to do in the next few weeks so it is good that we cancelled visiting Cumbria this weekend. She is going to use Saturday and Sunday mornings to "break its back". That'll give me time to do a mega clean of the house.

The real reason we cancelled our trip was we are taking Peter and Angela to see "Room on the Broom" at the Crucible tomorrow. We are going to the 1.30pm show. The plan is Phil and Jane will drive down tomorrow morning. We'll steal the kids and tell them we are going shopping while Mummy and Daddy go to Granny's. After the show we'll drive them up to Granny's where we will all have tea together. Sounds like a good plan. Because the performance is only 55 minutes we will do a bit of shopping in the town centre too. They don't ever shop in Sheffield, they do all theirs in Leeds - living in Horsforth it makes sense.

I drove Laura to the restaurant in the howling wind and rain, and it hadn't eased up at all when I collected her afterwards. It had affected the clientele though, apart from the bookings they only had 10 walk-ins all night! Very slow. Dominic was bemoaning the British weather and telling us it wasn't ever like this in Italy. He comes from the heel of the boot, near Brindisi and they have lovely weather all the time! [According to him!]

We were expecting some news about the crash or at least someone to get in touch with us, maybe, but so far nothing. I guess it is only one day afterwards. I hope Henry is OK. We left before they'd even got him out of the car. He seemed fine to me. Yes, I know, I am hardly qualified to make a diagnosis.

Laura has had this pervy idea for the bedroom. She fancies tying me to the bed and using me as her slave and then letting me do the same to her! Mmmm... I wasn't sure what to think [or say] when she came out with this. It could be interesting. I am not sure how my OCD will cope with being restrained like that, though. She would even want me to be blindfold. I think that could tip me over the edge, TBH.

Saturday October 12th.

More horrible weather. Callie and I were drenched this morning again! That is two days in a row. It isn't usually like this here. At Dad's, yes. Sometimes you can go a whole week without a dry day in Cumbria; but usually here, to the East of the Pennines, it is much drier.

We swam the 100 lengths and then had a big breakfast. Loll decamped to the study [as my attic was grandly renamed when I moved in. It has a beautiful desk and all my books on seventeen book shelves - all of which I stained mahogany before assembling them] and I set too to give the house a mega clean. I didn't get too far because Phil & Jane arrived at 11am with the terrible two. I was expecting them at about noon. Still, not to fret. They had decided they'd like to do some shopping too, so we went to the theatre and then met them outside afterwards and all strolled round the city centre.

The show was really good and they both enjoyed it. Peter might have been a little bit old for it but Angela was entranced throughout. We have arranged to take them to see a puppet version of Peter and the Wolf in a fortnight. That should be very good too, and introduce them to Real Music.

We took them into three big toy shops in town and they dropped huge hints about what they would like for Christmas. You would think they had no toys at all the way they went on about wanting certain ones. In the second one I pretended that a huge fabric lion was attacking me [Lewis' Toy Shop]. I threw myself on to the floor, holding this enormous cuddly lion at my neck, yelling, "Get it off! Get it off!" Angela thought it was very funny, Peter was undecided. You could see some of the other parents in there pulling very long noses at me as I got up and dusted myself down.

Phil, afterwards, whispered to me "I wish you wouldn't do stuff like that. It makes it ever so hard for me to be a fun loving and silly Dad when Aunt Vicki does really mad things in public with them. You are just spontaneously mad and they love it. You do realise how ridiculous you looked. don't you?"

I was speechless. I mean, what did he think I was trying to do? I was just being me. Messing about. Being silly and immature and childish is what I am. I have always been like it. I enjoy doing mad things to amuse my nieces and nephews. I honestly couldn't think of an answer that wouldn't have lead to an argument between us. What was worse was the fact the fcuking git was whispering this to me so that no-one else would hear him.

In the last one Peter asked what would attack me in this shop? I said that I didn't think they would, as their big scary Dad had frightened them all off! Well, I know. It was petty and cow like, but he can be a bloody arsehole at times, even if he is my brother! Luckily, they had some radio controlled cars to play with so we had a go on those. They are much harder to operate than I imagined. We drove them round the floor and then tried to drive them round each other's feet. I tried to steer mine round the feet of some of the other people wandering around the shop, browsing. So Pete had a go, then Angela.

He did it again. Very quietly telling me I shouldn't have got them playing with those cars and being silly with them. I was being irresponsible and setting a terrible example! This time my eyes did fill. Laura dragged me off to the ladies room, saying she was having trouble with one of her contacts and could I help? Jane said they were going to the restaurant to have a cuppa and we should join them there.

She was a life saver. If the tears had fallen so would so many harsh words as well. I just know they would. Mainly from me; directed at him. That was what made me so upset. He knew he could push and push and I wouldn't do anything because I wouldn't want to show the kids the acid tongued side of their Auntie, which only comes out when really provoked.

Why does he fcuking do it? Is he jealous of me getting lots of their affection? Does he think I am doing it deliberately to undermine him? There are times when I see so clearly why he and Susannah do not get on. He can such a stupid pillock at times. I want to hit him!

Luckily at Mum's we were showered with love and affection and silliness from her too. Which helped me to put it to the back of my mind. Laura helped by answering Mum's "What have you all been up to?" By telling her I had been practising my surrogate parenting skills on the children. Jane piped up with, "You should have seen her. She is so on their wavelength. She'll be a marvellous Mum some day!" Good old Jane. Totally unexpected support and really, really welcome. [Mum gave me one of her looks!]

The kids went on to tell her all about Room on the Broom and the Lion Attack and how they were going to see a Wolf musical, with their mad Aunt. Mum asked if she could come too, and she told them all about taking me to see Peter and The Wolf in Norwich when I was 5!

When the others weren't watching I caught Phil's eye, touched my nose tip and pointed at him. This was our old childhood sign for "Got You!" In his favour he did give the right sign back, which is pretending to hold a noose round your neck and being a hanged man. "OK. You win."

Jane had brought her Friday's Ultra Sound scan disc with her and this time you could make out that the splodge in the middle of the screen snow was a tiny weeny baby. Mum was thrilled to bits. I think we all were to be honest.

Dinner couldn't have been better. Beef stew and dumplings, with mashed potatoes and squeaky cabbage. This was followed by apple crumble and custard, made from apples picked in Mum's garden. Absolutely perfect food for such a horrible day, weather wise.

We stayed for quite a while gossiping and looking at the ultra sound again trying to tell the baby's gender. When we left mum gave us a bag of apples each [each couple] so that is going to be my tomorrow's project. Bugger more cleaning I am going to have a mass bake and cook lots of apple pies to put in the freezer. I shall also make some of the Woman's Hour Amazing apple cakes too.

Laura drove us home, and dropped me off at the bench on the lane above Onesacre, so I could walk back with Callie for her last walk. It would save us going out again after we'd got in. We got bloody drenched -Again!

Sunday October 13th.

Nine 7" apple pies, three apple cakes and a mass of apple sauce later, I am all baked out. As they were cooling Kaybers and Jan arrived, they are back from Norway [obviously] and came to surprise us. Rah, rah, rah.

We had a really long chat and it turns out the real reason they came was to tell us they are going to move to Norway in the new year! Oh, No! Another I don't believe it moment. We lost touch for a while when Kaybers went to Sheffield Uni, only meeting back up when I came home to Mum's after Australia. Now we are going to lose touch again. I can just tell that will happen! They want the baby to be born in Norway, which seems fine but they haven't got themselves anything like jobs sorted out there yet!

Could just be wishing aloud on their parts or maybe they are off in cloud cuckoo land! They were extremely impressed by my baking so, of course, they went off with an apple pie and a cake and a couple of bags of sauce. [I ladle the sauce into plastic bags, in measured amounts, to freeze. Some in apple pie sized portions, some in smaller portions for eating with meat. ]

The rest of the day was spent watching the rain running off the conservatory roof; trickling down my Odessa steps and generally making everything damp and soggy. I wouldn't be at all surprised if there's been flooding in valley bottom.

Kaybers and Jan couldn’t be persuaded to stay for a proper meal but they did enjoy some of my Apple Cake and a cuppa. Then they were heading off for some retail therapy at Meadow Hall. We had a good giggle at the times we got thrown out of there for roller blading. I can’t imagine she will be doing that any more, TBH. I hope they don’t move to Norway but that is just me being a stupid selfish little cow, I suppose.

We had a phone call, mid afternoon, from Henry’s Daughter. That was a surprise. She wanted to thank us for helping out with her Dad and asked if we could provide a statement for his insurance company explaining what had happened. He is fine. [Which is good.] His car is in a pretty poor state though. His ankle, although trapped was uninjured, which is so unusual, apparently. I am pleased his is fine, though. We are going to meet up on Tuesday lunchtime, in a café which overlooks the Cathedral for a chat and to exchange more details. She’s called Joan. Henry lives in Stocksbridge, which is the next village along from us. I was pleased we’d heard something. He was in the Northern General Hospital for two night but is now staying with his daughter who lives in Hillsborough.

Finally. It seems to have stopped raining. Callie and I enjoyed a rain free stroll before bedtime which was so nice. She was thinking of asking me for a raincoat and wellingtons [I often make up conversations with her. I am not mad really. Honest. No, I am not!]