Two Weeks In Bullet Points.

Well! 

     The past fourteen days have seen the following:

~~~

* the eating of a heck of a lot of food, most of it terribly nice and massively unhealthy.

* the making of two and a half dog toys; one pig, one elephant (named 'Unique-o'), and a second elephant (thus far, named 'half done, but neater than the last one').

* the putting up of decorations.

* a lot of sitting in the dark and looking at pretty fairy lights and/or candle.

* the ordering of two takeaway meals.

* the watching of a heck of a lot of television; some old, some new, some enjoyed, some not.

* the rereading of three Agatha Christi novels.

* a heck of a lot of talking.

* a heck of a lot of listening.

* a lot of snuggling with a mostly disinterested but very obliging dog.

* a lot of thinking while sitting in the dark and looking at pretty fairy lights and/or candle.

* the attendance of an extremely successful and highly enjoyable Gala Christmas Concert.

* the sucking down of many drinks; quite a few of them alcohol based.

* the playing of games; a few 'board' and a few 'card'.

* the receipt of several Christmas cards and a few presents that are Christmas presents, except not really, because "look, it's not wrapped; see? I'm obeying your rules".

* the listening to a lot of music; most of it Christmas based, some not.

* the unexpected drop in of Best Friend 1 (I gave her an apple. Merry Christmas).

* a heck of a lot of laughing.

* a heck of a lot of crying.

* the start of That Special Time Again (on Christmas day, no less).

* the finalizing of The Mother's birthday present ready for January 5th.

* the sending of my (living) Cousin's birthday present and my (late) Father's birthday card; both ready for January 4th.

* the making of three new years' resolutions.

* the admittance of a problem (okay, a few problems. ...Okay, more than a few...).

* the arrangement of one visit to Worcester to see Cousin open aforementioned birthday present (on the 3rd. A day early, but; meh).

* the purchase of two pairs of walking boots (one of them mine).

* the purchase of two pairs of jogging bottoms (both of them mine).

* the writing of a whopping two whole paragraphs of The Story and the jotting down of a few odd words and/or sentences of many other stories that I am supposed to be ignoring right now.

* the understanding (finally!) of the offside rule (really!).

* the experience of the Mother getting hot under the collar over two terribly important issues: the rolling around of tin cans outside our front door (first noticed a few days ago), and the totally unacceptable crookedness of Les Dawnson's tie in a recently watched episode of Family Fortunes (first aired a couple of decades ago).

...and! Last but not least...

* the wanton and rapid destruction of one cuddly hedgehog named 'Snuffles'.

~~~

Good, eh?
     I think that's pretty good.

Alice x

That Special Time Again.

.START.

Scene is set; Alice and Best Friend 0.5 are having a conversation via text message. Alice has just confessed that she shall not be joining Best Friend 0.5 for coffee/chat that day, as she feels unwell. Best Friend 0.5's responses to this are outlined (albeit paraphrased) below:

BEST FRIEND 0.5: ...oh, that's a shame. Been overindulging over Christmas, have we?
ALICE: a bit, yes. And also that thing that happens only to ladies around once a month and that isn't spoken of in polite society...
BEST FRIEND 0.5: ah! I see. You are a werewolf. Well, I understand. You aren't the only one, you know. Just rest up, avoid going out and try not to bite anyone. x
ALICE: =laughs= that is a bloody good description of how I am feeling right now. x
     P.S. I'll try.
BEST FRIEND 0.5: good, good. See you soon. x

Scene fades out with Alice smilingly putting her phone back in her pocket before snuggling down on the sofa under her blanket to continue her viewing of her favourite Sex & The City episodes. 

.END.

Alice x

P.S. By the way, Best Friend 0.5; if you are reading this, it's safe to come out now. I am no longer a werewolf; the danger has passed. For the next month or so, anyway...

Another Fun Fact.

Did You Know:
     When on the run from a rouge giant-super-mutant octopus that has broken free and is running wild in a futuristic zoo; the best way to out run its killer tentacles is to jump into a shallow tank with just enough water to cover you and lie very, very still?
     Yeah. Because a) the octopus can't see very well - rather like a T-Rex - and b) the octopus also can't smell you due to the salt in the water masking your scent.

...Uh-huh. That is totally true.
     Or at least, according to the dream/nightmare I had last night it is.
     Yep.
     I saved a whole load of people that way, including my mother. And then I killed the giant-super-mutant-killer octopus with a (conveniently placed and then perfectly aimed) silver-plated javelin.
     Yep.
     Go me, with my bad-arsed dream self.
     I rock.

...Also according to my dream/nightmare, in another part of the futuristic zoo (bizarrely, we were still meandering round for quite a while post Killer Octopus Incident) there is a small robot in the meerkat enclosure (ordinary meerkats, that is, not giant-super-mutant-killer meerkats) that looks innocuous but isn't. Supposedly it is just an insentient little box on wheels with a computer screen on the front and two little speakers positioned in such a way as to look like eyes, that drives around quoting snatches from the 'Compare the Meerkat' saga, but in actuality it is a captured alien forced to pretend to be an innocuous computerizing wheeled quoting thing while it drives around stealing samples of people's DNA for reasons that are as yet unknown by the nefarious owners of the futuristic zoo, who are actually master criminals intent on world domination and infinite riches and universal warfare and all the usual malarkey that master criminals tend to get up to.

So there you go.
     You heard it (or rather, I dreamed it) here first, people.
     Watch this space.

Yep.
     =nods=

Alice x

Fun Fact.

Did You Know:
     When heard through our living room wall, the sound of certain high heeled shoes on the pavement in the distance sound just like that coughing-slash-choking sound that cats make just before they throw up?
     Because it does; it sounds exactly like that.

Impressed?
     I was. I was very much impressed.

Mother however, when I pointed this out as she entered the building wearing her posh church shoes, was less so.
     Very much less so,

...Ah well.
     A very merry un-birthday to me,

Alice x

=COUGHS=

Dear cannabis users;

I get it, OK? You like cannabis. You have the right to like it and - in my personal opinion - to use it if you so wish. As drugs go, it is (mostly) harmless; the equivalent (again, to most people) of enjoying a glass or two of wine with your meal or of an evening, and the government is beginning to show signs of agreeing with that thought by reassigning its use in criminal law from a high 'class' to a lower one (and then re-classifying it again to a still lower one).

However, with that in mind, I would be terribly grateful, cannabis users, if you would do me and those like me a favour, and STOP SMOKING IT IN THE STREETS.
     Really. Please.
     Not everybody likes it. Not everybody finds it harmless. For a small faction of the public it is in fact incredibly harmful indeed. And for a larger faction, like me, while it may not be 'harmful', as such, it is bad smelling and nausea inducing.
     So seriously, just STOP. I'm not telling you that you shouldn't/can't use it. I don't - nor do I feel the government should - have the right to tell you that. All I am asking for is a little consideration for the other people you share public spaces with. You can take it all you want; until it comes out of your ears. We just don't want to breathe it in at the same time. For those of us with lung problems, cigarettes are bad enough, but at least cigarettes don't have the added effect of making us want to vomit every time the scent hits our nostrils (or at least it doesn't for me).

So really, seriously, pretty please with a cherry on top: if you have to smoke it?
     SMOKE IT AT HOME.

Thank you kindly.

Yours,
     The girl that wishes to be able to breathe unhindered when she steps outside.

You Can't Learn Genius Like This...

I am so smart.
     People have no idea how smart I am; just precisely how much smartness is going on underneath my prettily kinked golden-brown locks and sweet, innocently dim yet infectious smile. But there is lots, peops; lots of smartness going on in there.

Do you want to hear an example of just how smart I am?
     Well, here it is...

I am so smart that I just trudged 30 minutes in the rain - 15 minutes each way - to rescue a dog that possibly-but-incredibly-unlikely might have been abandoned sometime earlier today, which turned out to - surprise! - not actually have been abandoned after all.
    See? Smart.

The dog in question was first spotted at around 12:45 this afternoon as I hobbled home from work.
     It was of indeterminate breed with an attractive, intelligent looking face, a long bushy tail and sandy coloured fur; and the reason that I took extra notice of it than my usual "aw! cute!" was that it was barking quite determinedly and walking in circles around the post its lead had been tethered to.
     Slowing to a stop, I looked at it and then around the general area. Nobody else seemed to be taking any notice of it. Seeing dogs tethered to posts and bench legs etc. is far from unusual in Kidderminster; people do it all the time, tying the lead around something solid while they pop into a shop so that the dog is safe while they are gone. All well and good. But...there have been adverts recently on television, posted by animal charities calling for donations, in which abandoned dogs feature heavily. And this dog seemed to be so...agitated.
     I hovered for a moment or so, Then my brain stepped in. It reminded me of the commonness of dogs temporarily tethered to posts in the proximity of shops, and pointed out that the dog appeared to be healthy and well cared for.
     I started to walk away, then looked back. The dog was still circling and barking. Nobody appeared to be coming to claim it.
     The paranoid 'what if...' side of my nature started to prod at me again, but my brain was quick to shout it out, reminding me again of the tethering practice and the obvious well treatment of the dog, and pulling out the big guns, it also pointed out the facts of my aching feet and tired and muzzy head, and that the sausage baguette I had just purchased would only stay warm for a finite amount of time,

So, with that in mind, I walked away.

'It's probably just fed up waiting for its owner to emerge from a nearby shop,' I told myself, as I walked, convincing myself that I wasn't being selfish; 'and in any case, my own dog will be bursting for the toilet by now...'

All well and good. Until 7:03-PM this evening, when I opened the door to take Bingo for a walk to find it pouring with rain and as I ushered his - very reluctant - highness outside and started trudging the image of that barking, circling dog flashed into my mind, and stayed there.
     What if my paranoid 'what if...' side had been right all along?
     What it it was still there?
     In the cold.
     And the dark.
     And the rain.
     All alone...

Now, we all know exactly what I was going to be doing next, don't we?

Cutting Bingo's walk as short as possible - not that he complained; he was only too glad to get out of the rain and back into the warm, dry living room - I dried him off with a towel, gave him his dinner and then while he was still eating it, I set out for town with his lead still in my pocket.
     All the way down there, I told myself I was being stupid. That the dog wasn't going to be there.
     And of course it wasn't.
     Because it hadn't been abandoned. Something that I would have known had I not been in such an 'oh I'm so tired and need to sit down and eat my lunch before it gets cold' funk and had actually waited for what probably would have been just a few minutes for the dog's owner to return.

.....So! That is how smart I am.
     Yup. =nods=

Then on the way home I brought some chocolate.
     Because a super smart intelligent person like me deserves chocolate. Right?
     Right.
     Yup. =nods=

Alice x

A Dog's Dinner Of A Situation (Literally).

Bingo just ate his first normal (or at least normal-ish) meal for the first time in 6 days.
     He is so excited and happy, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Oh, I could just cry...

Alice x

A Quick Update:

1) Bingo is seems recovered and is speedily reverting to his old self (thank you, God).

2) MJ has moved out of our house and into his own flat (yippee!).

3) We have a new second-hand sofa (one that isn't broken on one side).

4) I get to see Cousin 1 for a while later on, as she will be in Kidderminster (which is great. Plus, there will be ice cream).

5) There are chicken dippers warming in the oven (yum),

...=nods=...

Life is good.

Alice x

Good To Know.

~.START.~

A question one asks oneself whilst waiting for the vet to phone regarding your hospitalized pet: 
~ how many of the kitchen cupboards can I clean in the next hour?

Answer:
~ two thirds of them. 

~.END,~

Also for those interested; as you progress, you will end up finding not only various foodstuffs in packets and jars that have past their sell-by-date (by at least two years. ...Yeah. It's been that long...), but also a mass of things you didn't know were in there, don't remember purchasing and can't see yourself ever using,
     So there you go.
     I bet you feel better knowing that, don't you?

Alice x

Another Overheard Gem Of A Snippet.

~.START.~

LADY ONE TO LADY TWO (emphatically, as they walked past): you know, I swear all that spider spray does is make the damn things bigger...

~.END.~

=bows. walks off=

Alice x

Good Idea, Bad Idea.

~.START.~

Good Idea:
     Looking both ways before crossing the road.

Bad Idea:
     Upon seeing that there is a car maneuvering into a car-parking space, stepping boldly out in front of it and beginning to hobble your little old lady way across the road regardless.

Badder Idea:
     When said car screeches to a halt rather than mowing your dinky little old lady self down and stares at you with undisguised horror having nearly flattened you, shaking your fist angrily in his direction and performing a gesture known in popular modern circles as 'flipping the bird'.

And finally, the deliciously Bad Idea cherry on top of the Bad Idea cake:
     Said 'flipping the bird' completed, propping your little red and white checked shopping trolley up against the curb, leaning your walking stick against it and then rolling yourself a cigarette, which you take the time to light and begin smoking before at last starting to make your way, oh so slowly, across to the other side of the road, leaving a mass of stunned, blinking people - one of them still sat behind the wheel of a halted dark blue Volvo - in your wake.

~.END.~

It was one of those moments that one had to see to believe, and even then it had an air of unreality to it, as though we had suddenly stumbled into a comedy performance or a bad television soap opera.
     People stood around in incredulous silence for a few minutes before normality returned and everyday life started itself up again; shoppers began shopping, talkers began talking, walkers began walking, and the poor man in the blue Volvo finally plucked up the courage to finish what he had started and park his car.

As for the star of the spectacle herself, I have no idea where she went, having melted away into the crowds.
     I think it's fair to say, however, given the evidence, that farce and mayhem will have followed not far behind her...

Alice x

SHE LIVES!

Hi there.
     Things, as you may have gathered from the sporadic posting, been a little unsettled in the Collison household of late. Circumstances regarding not just MJ but other things - things that I cannot yet speak of without breaking a solemn promise - have weighed heavy on our minds and have been getting heavier with each passing day. The future has been uncertain, the atmosphere has been fraught and tension and various levels of misery have reigned.

And now? Well, now the future is still uncertain, but it is slightly less uncertain than it has been. The part of the uncertainty that I cannot talk about has been acted upon and will be settled, for better or worse, by 31st October. The part that I can talk about, regarding MJ, looks as though it might be settled sooner than that, because the council have offered him a flat.
     He should be able to move in by the end of next week, when they have finished what they are calling the "clearance" of the flat (they haven't specified whether they are clearing people or debris, or both. We suspect both) and give him the keys.
     He has stated utter determination to move in, despite the remembrance/realization that two of the people that used to live in the Lion Hotel are rumoured to now live in the same road he is destined to live in - there were a few days of silent glowering brooding on his part and abject wretchedness on ours until we finally sat him down and kindly but forcibly extracted that information out of him - and the fact that it would mean money would be uncomfortably tight.
     With respect to the Lion Hotel people, there is nothing we can do other than what we have done, which is to point out to him that me regaining my room and mother regaining hers is not more important than he is, and that if he chooses not to move to a flat with the knowledge that person/persons who made his life a torment previously would be (possibly very) nearby and instead to stay with us indefinitely that would be fine with us; we are family and we would make it work. His response to this was a "thanks" and a repeat of his determination to do it.
     With respect to the subject of money, mother and I were worried enough that we sat him down again and went through the nitty gritty blow by blow. The bottom line, to spare you the gumph from our lists and my spreadsheet (...yeah, I actually made one...), is that once all the bills are paid - at the cheapest rate they could possibly be - he would be left with a few pence over £3 per day for everything else; the everything else being food (which considering the way and what he eats is not quite enough, so sacrifices will have to be made. ...Cutting out Pepsi and switching to cheaper bread, for example...) and cigarettes (which considering the cost of a single carton of cigarettes is definitely not enough, even without factoring in the food).  Our response to that was a statement that in our considered opinion such a restriction will make his life so unhappy as to not be worth living, gaining his own space notwithstanding, and a repeat of our previous little speech regarding family and his importance and making it work etc. His response to that was an airy and nonchalant declaration that he knew all of this already and had accepted that changes would have to be made and things given up, and that he really was determined to go.

So, unless the council themselves back out (which is very possible), it looks highly probable that he is going to be moving to a little one bedroom flat in Avon Road.
     How long he will remain there, however, once the realities of independent living (or as independent as one claiming job seeker's allowance and full housing benefits can be) has hit him with what will probably amount to the mental force of a ten tonne truck, will have to remain to be seen.
     As the saying goes; watch this space.

Meantime, here are some more examples of my masterful sewing.

1. The Fish:

2. The Cat:

3. The Worry Doll:

Forgive the quality of the pictures: they was taken on a phone in a pub.
     And please forgive the quality of the toys: I am learning as I go, so to speak.
     And pretty please forgive the background. In picture 2, that would be the poor unsuspecting gentleman sat nearby, and in pictures 1. and 3. ...well... that would be me.
     But; I want to make it clear that the angles are decidedly unflattering (...so there).

Alice x

A Prayer.

As I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my world to keep.

For even though MJ is both brother and son,
I want to keep the home I've won.

And though I know it will hurt her so,
I still pray to You that he will go.

...Soon.

A-men.

Alice x

And Thus, Life Trundles On.

I haven't had anything much of note to write about of late (hence the lack of posts).
     Mostly I've been at work.
     And when I haven't been at work I've been walking the dog*.
     And when I haven't been at work or walking the dog I've been writing**.
     And when I haven't been at work or walking the dog or writing I've been doing little odds and ends around the house (vacuuming and such).
     And when I haven't been at work or walking the dog or writing or doing little odds and ends around the house I've been watching various things on the computer and sewing together scraps of material to toys.

That's it, really.

As for this week, I've am on holiday (yes, again, and yes, it hasn't quite been a month since my last one. Things weren't able to be very well set out this year, due to maternity leave, sickness and such, and as a consequence there have been long periods with no holiday at all and then a rash of them close together) and am filling my days with fun stuff such as indulging in lie-ins, taking the dog on longer dog walks, and making plans to spend time with friends and family. Thus far I've popped up to Worcester to see Cousin.1 and her partner (Luke. Henceforth known as 'L') for an afternoon - great fun, pizza and a few old films - and enjoyed a grand meal out with Mother, and arrangements have also been made to see Best Friend.1 and Best.Friend.3 - if all goes well, both on the same day, one for lunch, one for an evening of wine, television and (if there's enough wine) song - and to spend a day out somewhere - not sure where yet - with The Grandpapa.
     Fun, fun, fun.
     And when I'm not doing that, I am lounging around not doing much of anything useful; watching things on the computer and continuing to sew together my toys. I'm working on a little doll at the moment (seeing as Bingo now has three toys to choose from and another ready and waiting); around 6 inches high. The body is finished, all limbs attached, and I am now concentrating on making her clothes, then when I've done that, I'll turn my attention to giving her a face and hair. Unless something goes badly and unfix-ably wrong, she will be the second one I've successfully completed so far, and while the end result is hardly what one would call professional (far from it), I am terribly pleased with it.

In other news:
     Term time has begun and work has started to trickle in. As usual, whether it will end up being enough for Mother to keep going (or even if she will want to if she can), remains to be seen. Nothing can be decided certainly until the end of October.
     On the home front; MJ is still here for the time being. The council having finally done their job, however, he is now 'in the system' as they call it and able to apply for housing. 3 bids on 3 separate properties are permitted each week, with the system - you can only bid online or by phone - resetting every Monday. MJ put in his first 3 bids as soon as he was allowed to, and is continuing to do so as often as he can. So, while we are still stuck, at least steps are being taken in the right direction.
     Meantime, after eight weeks of sharing my double bed with Mother, I reached the point  where I wasn't able to cope with doing it anymore, no matter how inconvenient that made things. After reassuring me that I wasn't being a selfish cow and that she understood completely and indeed that I was to be thanked for my patience, understanding an unselfishness so far, Mother looked with my help into the purchasing of a folding bed. Once we had found one that seemed suitable, we ordered it and at last it was delivered, yesterday afternoon. We had to move my bed back into its original position against the far wall and some rearrangement of lamps and cabinets and so on was necessary too, but that didn't take long and then it was lugged upstairs and put in place. At my anxious insistence, Mother tried it out as soon as it was unfolded and she pronounced it not just bearable as she had expected, but comfortable (swearing on the dog that she was telling the truth). And then last night, for the first time in nearly ten weeks, mother and I retired for the night into separate beds, and oh, reader(s); I just can't describe to you the bliss.

And there you have it. That's what has been occurring at the Collison house over the past few weeks.

...Bored yet?

Alice x

* don't be too impressed by that. We're not talking epic hikes, more short strolls. The dog is happy enough and gets as much exercise as he wants or needs with the aid of balls/sticks/water/other dogs, but I myself don't get much of a workout to speak of. 
     Or indeed, any workout at all.
** again. don't be too impressed. I am what is known as an inefficient or 'scatty' writer. I jot down stuff as it comes to me - I've filled notepad after notepad with it over the years - but half of it , if not more, gets scribbled out as I go and not all of what remains afterwards is actually use-able material. 
     But, ah well. That's how t'is. I am what I am.

(Yet Another) Thing I Never Thought I'd Say.

~~~

.START.

Scene is set; Alice is running around half an hour late as she arrives at the house of Best-Friend-1 for an eagerly awaited 'Old Girls Night In'*. 
     Rushing up the path, she knocks the door.
     Best-Friend-1 opens the door...

ALICE: (a little breathless) sorry I'm late! I got carried away stuffing the heck out of Bingo's fish.
BEST-FRIEND-1: (opens eyes wide, stares) ...okay...

.END.

~~~

Alice x

* as opposed to the kind of 'Girls Night In' that young things under the age 30 are popularly rumoured to have. At its base the general idea remains the same  - junk food, drink (wine is popular), a compilation of trashy television/films, girls lounging around in pajamas or nightdresses and a lot of vulgar talk and giggling - but there are important differences. There is less alcohol, for a start. And nobody breaks any furniture (or limbs) by dancing on things they shouldn't or accidentally sets anything on fire trying to (drunkenly) cook. And the police aren't summoned to keep the volume levels in check. And, above all; it is understood, thanks to repeated early starts and hectic days due to work/kids/life in general, that no-one present will have the stamina to stay awake much past 11-PM.

(Yet Another) Overheard Conversation.

~~~

.START.

Scene is set; Alice is in Iceland (the shop, that is, not the country) making her way up and down the aisles looking for various bits and bobs on behalf of The Grandmama. Nearby is a man walking beside a tiny and frail looking elderly lady. The little old lady is wearing a red jumper and a dark grey skirt. The man is wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans. Their progress is slow and the man's stride is deliberately narrow, keeping carefully in-step with the delicate creature clinging to his arm.
     As they pass close to Alice, Little Old Lady notices a display set up advertising Walker's crisps.
     The following conversation ensues...

LITTLE OLD LADY: (brightly, slowing to a stop) do you want some crisps? Look, there are some crisps over there. Let me buy you some crisps.
MAN: (kindly but firmly) no thanks, mum.
LITTLE LADY: (persuasively) oh, go on, let me buy you some crisps. You like crisps. Let me buy you some crisps.
MAN: (kindly but firmly) I've got crisps coming out of my ears, mum. I haven't got down the last lot you got me yet. I've got loads of crisps. Look, we're here to do your shopping, okay? Why don't you find that list you made and we'll get started.
LITTLE OLD LADY: (plaintively) but I want to buy you something.
MAN: (kindly but firmly) I know you do, mum, and that's nice, but I've already got everything I need at home. I don't need anything. Have you got your list?
LITTLE OLD LADY: (plaintively, finally locating a scrap of cardboard from the depths of her copious handbag and handing it over) but I want to buy you something.
MAN: (kindly but firmly) I know, and that's nice, really, but I don't need anything, so let's get what you need, okay? Right! First thing you've written is orange squash. Okay; I think squash is in the next aisle over. Come on.
LITTLE OLD LADY: (plaintively) but I want to buy you something. Please, let me buy you something.
MAN: (stops walking as little old lady digs her heels in, looks down at her pleading little face and sighs) mum, please, I don't need anything...
LITTLE OLD LADY: .....(lips begin to tremble).....
MAN: (sighs again, rubs forehead, gives way) ...okay mum, okay. You win. If it will make you happy, you go ahead and buy me something.
LITTLE OLD LADY: (brightly, cheering up immediately) do you want some crisps? Look, there are some crisps over there. Let me buy you some crisps.
MAN: (wearily) that would be great, mum, thanks.

Scene ends; with little old lady hobbling happily past Alice a few moments later heading in the direction of the orange squash while her son walks carefully beside her glumly but gamely carrying an utterly ginormous bag containing 36 individual packets of Walkers 'traditional flavours' crisps - special offer: 36 packets for the price of 28 - in his free hand.

.END.

~~~

Aw; sweet.

     Lovely little old lady. Lovely man, too. I know from experience that trying to do the right thing by your mother and keeping her happy at the same time is no mean feat, so he has my sympathy and understanding. 

     I'm guessing that they have a similar (or possibly the very same) conversation every time he takes the old dear shopping.

     Bless.

Alice x

P.S. for those of you wondering, yes; I did indeed loiter round, pretending to be engrossed in the masses of choice that Iceland had to offer in the way of rice, so that I could witness how this particular battle of wills played itself out from beginning to end. 

     ...=shrugs= ...

     I'm nosy. Sue me. 

Another Day Out In Pictures.

{WARNING: LONG!}

{...ALSO: ALL PICTURES HAVE BEEN TAKEN BY SOMEONE ELSE...}

.START.

So!

     I arrived at Worcester Foregate Street Station at around 11am:

A place called "Cafe Bolero" had been recommended to me as having milkshakes to die for:

So of course I quickly made my way there.

     Once inside I ordered a butterscotch 'shake and a chocolate and almond pastry: 

Before settling down on a comfy seat in the corner:

I stayed there for a little while after 'shake and pastry had been (thoroughly) enjoyed and got a little writing done, just a page or so, Then I left. I had plans, you see; somewhere I wanted to be. 

     Namely, here:

Worcester Cathedral baby! One of the gems of our once great country. 

     As I drew near I peered up at the tower and spires in wonder:

Then I headed on inside.

     As the pictures below prove, it is rather a vast and impressive place:

...and...

...and...

...and...

Once inside, before I began my guided-by-myself tour, I stared down at the marble mosaic floors, and up at the imposingly ornate and beautiful ceiling for a while:

...and...

Then I began to properly look around.

     There were masses of things to see, 

     The tombs:

...and...

...and... 

The monuments:

...and...

...and...

The stained glass windows:

...and...

The altars:

The pulpit:

The organ (here it is from a nicer angle):

The font, inside:

...and out...

The picturesque cathedral garden:

The crypt:

.....And many more things besides (I told you: vast). 

While there, I couldn't resist lighting a candle:

And saying a prayer for my Dad in one of the small chapels before I left:

Shortly after leaving I headed to a nearby sandwich bar and settled down with my book (the reading one, not the writing one) to eat sat on one of the high legged chairs in the window:

Then that eaten, I made a beeline for an equally nearby pub:

Where I could enjoy a Pepsi and another piece of cake (shut up; it was instead of chips) while I got a few more pages of writing done:

.....Then I went back to the station and got onto the train that would take me home again, where shortly after therein I was propositioned by a shyly polite young man, who had obviously nerved himself up to talk to me and try and commandeer my number (sorry, no picture of him. He was African though, to judge from his skin colour and accent, if that helps. And he was tremendously attractive, Gorgeous smile),

     .....Poor boy. 

    He was disappointed to find out that a) I was a lesbian and b) had no intention of giving him my number (or anyone else for that matter).

     .....He took it well, though, and left me with a regretful but respectful handshake to sit elsewhere on the train so that I could be left to write in peace and he could (presumably) nurse his pride in private,

     .....Gave me a spring in my step, anyway (sexy; that's me).

And then, finally! Home again:

.END.

There you have it, folk.

     That was my day out. 

I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I did living it.

     T'was fun, indeed.

Roll on the next one!

Alice x

Because I Said I Would:

BEHOLD! THE GLORY THAT IS BADLY CRAFTED PIG!

Cool, eh?
     I made that.
     Go me.

Alice x

Passive Aggression At Its Best.

Imagine the scene:
     Mother on one side of the room listening to the Proms repeat on the radio  (Magnificat Chorus by J.S. Bach).
     MJ is on the other side of the room, watching something on his Super-Duper-I-Can-Do-EVERYTHING mobile phone (Screen Wipe, whatever the heck that is).
     Both things are playing loudly.
     Both people are unwilling to turn their respective viewing/listening pleasure down. Indeed, they keep turning the damn things up, trying to outdo each other.

.....Who will crack first.....?

Time will tell.

Alice x
   

=Smacks Forehead=

~.START.~

Alice: is given antibiotics to administer to dog.*

Alice: listens to instructions very carefully (or so she thinks).

Alice: reads instructions on packet carefully (or so she thinks).

Alice: administers tablets religiously, twice daily and all is well (or so she thinks).

Alice: is bemused to find 6 days worth of tablets left, as well as the one that she was expecting to find.

Alice: rereads packet, recounts tablets, There are still 6 days worth of tablets left (plus one), and the packet still says the words "for seven days only".

Alice: rings vets, now thoroughly bemused, to ask what on earth is going on and what she should do now.

Receptionist: brings up details on computer, and having checked them, clarifies; has Alice been giving the tablets twice daily?

Alice: assures her that she has been, twice daily without fail.

Receptionist: continues to clarify; has Alice been giving dog TWO tablets, twice daily?

Alice: freezes.

Alice: fetches packet and rereads it aloud over the phone: "TWO tablets to be given twice daily"...

Alice: embarrassed. Alice mortified. Alice has no idea how she missed the word 'two' before the word 'tablets' (or indeed how her brain missed the word 'two' before the word 'tablets' when given the instructions orally).

Receptionist: toddles off to ask vet what on earth she is to say Alice is to do now, given that she has been under-dosing her dog by exactly half for just under a week now.

Receptionist: comes back and tells Alice vet's response: to start giving dog proper amount of tablets as of the next due dose.

Alice: meekly agrees, thanks receptionist and hangs up,

Mother of Alice: upon being told this sad story, all but wets herself laughing.

~.END.~

=SIGHS=

Alice x

*  two days after being described as utterly fit and not needing any veterinary care whatsoever, Mr. In The Pink sliced his paw open (we presume on a sharp stone in the garden). Yay.

A Little Bit Of (Rude) Funny:

.START.

Scene is set; Alice and Best Friend 2 are walking along the rain dashed pavement, talking and laughing and generally feeling satisfied after meeting for the first time in over a year and enjoying a nice meal together. During the meal many things were discussed, including sexuality (mainly Alice's). We come in at the tail end of a conversation that saw them return to that subject...

BEST FRIEND 2: (thoughtfully) I thought for a while that I might be gay, you know
ALICE: (interested) really?
BEST FRIEND 2: (nodding) yep. Then I realized I wasn't. I mean, I looked at women and tried to imagine myself having sex with them and...nah. Just, no. (grinning) I like the penis.
(both laugh)
ALICE: (sagely) ...Alice does not 'like the penis'.
BEST FRIEND 2: (highly amused) oh no?
ALICE: (shakes head solemnly) nope.
BEST FRIEND 2: (laughs) 
ALICE: (laughs)

.END.

A (Nice) Visit To The Vets.

See this beautiful, beguiling boy in the (badly angled) picture below?

Isn't he utterly gorgeous?
     He IS, isn't he?

Well, this compelling, cunning, caddish, caring, occasionally curmudgeonly creature has just attended an appointment with one of the lovely ladies at Vale Veterinary Surgery for his annual inoculations and general health check and has been declared as not only in reasonably fine fettle (as becoming for a dog on the wrong side of 10-years old), but definitely and decidedly In The Pink.

Isn't that great?
     I always have this underlying fear that the vet will take one look at him and discover something utterly horribly (and possibly incurably) wrong with him that I should have spotted but didn't. Thus far, such a thing has not happened, but the fear is always there, every year.

He's even lost weight, down from 38 to 37.5kg (Aunt.1 will HATE that. Paddy has always been the tubbier of the two - Bingo is ridiculously skinny by comparison - and vets, like doctors, are overly fond of getting their knickers in a twist over the amount of girth a patient has, no matter how healthy they may be. She gets a lecture every year and it is a source of mild irritation that I don't); which made the lady vet very pleased.

Anyway, he took all the poking and prodding and heart listening and ear peeking and lump massaging (he has quite a collection of bumps now, all - proven to be - harmless and quietly growing bigger and bigger as time passes) like a champ; and as for the unavoidable stab with the needle...let's just say he was far calmer about that bit than Mommy was.

A highly successful visit, all round.

He is now sprawled out on his bed, dreaming happy dreams having had yet another happy day.

Good boy.
     Someone deserves a bone.
     And when he wakes up, he'll get one.

Alice x

P.S. in case anybody is wondering, the oh-so-professional looking picture above was taken 6 years ago. I don't have any recent pictures (a circumstance I aim to rectify over the next few days), but Bingo looks much the same now as he did then; just a little more (...okay, a lot more...) grey around the chops.
     I think the silvered fur gives him an air of distinguished sophistication, anyway. And, needless to say,  every other bit of him is still going as strong as ever it was.
     In The Pink, indeed.
     .....I am so happy.....

Seeing As I Had Some Time To Kill This Evening; As Requested...

...here are a few pictures (garnered from the internet, I'm afraid, as I am no photographer) depicting scenes from my day out in Birmingham.

Kidderminster Railway Station:

Birmingham Snow Hill Station:

Birmingham Cathedral Grounds (where picnic was consumed):

Flock of pigeons (I have to assume not the ones I was feeding):

Entrance to Birmingham museum:

First room of paintings (known as The Round Room):

One of the main corridors (known originally as The Gas Hall):

Two pictures from the selection of Egyptian exhibits:

Bonus picture of one of the exhibits being treated prior to display:

Not very good example of the mass of flowers lining the streets:

And last but not least...
     The Starbucks I wasted so much time in (I got some writing done, honest!):

...There y'go, Eli.
     =bows=

Alice x