blinging up the mearns...
Just when the giant electric carrots of Sneinton had faded from my memory, I had cause to travel into the nearby town of Inverbervie, and to my considerable horror spotted that someone was in the process of blinging up one of the farm cottages.
I'm pretty confident that the home in question does not pertain to our noble landlords estate, as I suspect that only tasteful christmas decs, perhaps incorporating tartan ribbons among the holly garlands, are likely to be permitted.
Incidentally, the Lairds tartan is really rather nice, a variant on the Black Watch tartan, and mercifully lacking in unharmonious colour ways.
The blinged up house hasn't yet been switched on, but rest assured, gentle reader, that when it is, I'll be there to record it. Here for the record is the house before they switch it on, it's certainly unusual.
news from the warzone
We have returned to the land of Grassic Gibbon to find ourselves living in the midst of a cross between Gosford Park and downtown Beirut, if one is to poke ones nose outside the door at certain times of the day then one runs the risk of having it shot off. I think they are having an 'at home' at the big house, since that is the direction that most of the gunfire is coming from. Betweeded yeomen with eager dogs patrol the shrubbery outside our windows, scooping up the occasional feathery corpse, fortunately our landlords guests seem to have a limited appetite for slaughter, if this afternoon is anything to go by, as they ran out of ammunition/birds/interest after about half an hour. The cat has been entirely sensible, and abandoned his ongoing attempts to remove all rodents from the planet in favour of lying on the couch with his tail over his nose pretending to be blamelessly asleep.
You will gather from this posting that we are finally online, more accurately, I am, as Mr Bransons finest modem does not appear to wish to speak to The Arts Correspondents finest Apple, a cause of much friction as one might imagine. Once we're sorted, I think it has a date with a hammer, although maybe if I glued some feathers on it and waved it outside the door for a few minutes, someone might take a pot shot at it.
Our visit to the South could only at best be described as a qualified success, The Arts Correspondents mother is now in possession of a splendid new hip, and normal service should be resumed fairly soon. The local hospital in Wet London, where my AP was due to have a toe ground, took it upon itself to cancel most of its day surgery, and consequently my trip was in part, in vain. It is profoundly to be hoped that they will find a new consultant surgeon who can get out of bed in the morning, and who is correctly able to diagnose Athletes foot (or the absence thereof). I will say no more, as it is still very annoying.
Just before we travelled back up, I had cause to visit the land of the red kites(
http://lx999.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html), as I had a package to drop off at the offices, it is quite refreshing to see that, even though they have become a multi-million pound operation, they are still not entirely without a sense of humour, as this picture of their new car-parking warden demonstrates (I hope).
Finally, even in deepest darkest Bucks a little weirdness can happen, I have been driving past this sign for several years now, as the estate in question is screened by large conifers, I am unable to confirm what activities actually take place there, but I do hope they all have fun.
Ongoing apology, part three?
Sorry folks, the useless deadbeat monopolists at BT have continued to scupper our attempts to get online, it only took five weeks for them to connect our line, and in what I'm sure they'd call a spirit of generosity, they placed a broadband connection on (actually, I suspect they didn't bother to remove the one that the previous tenant had). This meant that when we failed to sign up for BT broadband, and instead went for a rival, we had to wait for them to remove their connection before we could go ahead.
Today, we have been told that our broadband is now connected, and wished happy surfing, shame we are both down south, in attendance at our respective parents, who in a rare and pleasing moment of synchronicity have managed to get themselves into hospital for foot and leg operations within a couple of weeks of each other.
I can't pretend I have a monster back log of log entries to upload, but I have a new pastime writing reviews for Remotegoat, so here's hoping that I'll be seeing more exciting events soon...
