Surprise

Well I didn't expect to be posting again for a while, but the boy is asleep, the Dragon is meeting some old friends, I have my trusty laptop, and it appears I can jack someone's unsecured wireless internet from the kitchen of my sister in law's apartment.

I'm still jet lagged, but I arrived safely yesterday evening. All is well. I really did think I might miss my flight yesterday however. I nipped home quickly after work and then drove straight to the airport. It's a journey of about 50 minutes and I left at 5.30 for a 9.30 flight thinking I could spend an hour or so in the bar at Terminal Three Departure Lounge. It turns out however that every clown in Southern England had decided to wreck their car on the M4 that afternoon and the journey took more than two and a half hours. So it was lucky I allowed plenty of extra time. It was after eight when I parked the car and I don't think I reached the check-in desk until 8.30. I had just enough time to pick up a bag of duty free scoffs before the gate opened. There was of course no chance of that relaxed hour in the bar.

Today we've been out and about in the city. It's hot here, must be mid twenties. It was 30C in Bangkok when we refuelled. I don't remember another time when the climate difference was so extreme. There was still snow in our back garden when I left, though it is going now.

I don't know what is planned for tomorrow. I am not in charge of itinerary. I know trip to the zoo to see the new pandas is on the cards, and I think I want to go to the top of Taipei 101 tower again. I'll keep you posted, maybe.

Almost Zero

OK, I'm off to Taiwan for a week or two. I'm taking a laptop with me, but frankly, the chances of me actually writing anything here before I get back are close to zero. Please don't burgle our house while I'm gone. And if you see the dragon, don't tell her I fixed up the bathroom either. It's supposed to be a surprise.

The snow has gone by the way, and the sun is shining. I am confident that the plane will take off. It was nice to see a headline this morning about a plane crash however.

I'm sick of eating. I've spent all morning trying to finish everything in the fridge. I've eaten too much pate and cheese.

Back in a couple of weeks with pictures anyway.

A Blunt Instrument and a Bad Temper

Monday...

The Home Secretary has been caught with her fingers in the sweetie jar, or so it seems. Apparently MPs are entitled to claim up to £24,000 a year to help them maintain a second home in London if their constituency home is too far away to commute to parliament. The Home Secretary has listed her main residence as her London home, which she is entitled to do, and her second home as the family home in Redditch. The main residence is defined as the one in which the MP, "spends more nights than any other". All sounds above board, except the address the cow registered as her main address is not hers. It's her sisters, and she claims she stays there usually Monday to Thursday.

Sounds to me like the old bat is trying to pull a fast one. She apparently crashes on her sister's couch three or four times a week and claims £24K a year to tart up the family gaff in Redditch. I'm fairly sure she's not paying her sister £2K a month for a room, and if she is, that's also a bloody scam anyway. You could get a pretty good hotel room in London for that. I hope she gets dragged up in front of the House and told to explain herself. This is the same cow that pays her husband £40K a year to work as her "parliamentary assistant".

MP's expenses are becoming ridiculous. They're supposed to be declaring everything and providing receipts, but they just seem to spend our public money like water and laugh at when we try to get an explanation. I think we should make them stay in youth hostels and only give them baked beans to eat.

I'm sick to death of snow. And the blasted weather forecast has been woeful incidentally. It peed down with snow on Friday and I didn't bother trying to get to work. Everything froze over the weekend and of course all the authorities ran out of salt for the roads, so we've all been driving on an ice rink. It's melting now, and it's been raining all day. I drove to work this morning. Apparently we can expect gale force winds and flooding tonight, and possibly more snow, or not, depending on which forecast you believe. You'd be better off with a crystal ball.

On the plus side, I've finished renovating the bathroom. Looks really good, very proud of myself. I really want to put a new tub in, but it's a lot of work and I haven't done it. I haven't told the dragon. It's going to be a surprise. This could all blow up in my face of course, if she doesn't like it, but I'm quietly confident.

I fly out to join my family on Friday. I can't wait. I've super missed them. I was thinking that some time on my own would be nice, but frankly, I've been lonely and miserable.

Tuesday...

I'm ridiculously busy at the office because I've taken on work that is currently being carried out by a guy in Paris who's about to retire. I've spent most of the last two weeks talking to him on the phone. Anyway. I have to get things straight before Friday because I go away, and when I come back, I have to take over. Slightly scared.

The papers have all got hold of the Jacqui Smith Expenses story and are taking the piss vigorously. Even the Guardian got in on the act. My favourite piece however was a comment in the Independent titled, "A Plague on Both Your Houses". Made me laugh anyway.

Oh yes, and I've just got home, it's about 8pm. I dropped in the supermarket on the way home, and then the diy store. There are two yard apes in fluorescent jump suits digging up the road right outside my bedroom window. We're talking diesel generator and pneumatic drill. They've got until 10pm. If it's not quiet by then, I'm going out there armed with a blunt instrument and a bad temper.

I'm feeling Lucky!

OK, it's late, just time for a quick entry here. You remember we had to race round London three weeks ago to sort out the boy's visa? Check out the chasing paper entry if you need a recap. It was a basically successful day, but we had a really foul journey home on the train, which was both late and overcrowded. I'm not sure why I didn't rant about it in that entry. Probably because First Great Western ruining my day is such a regular occurrence, I didn't think it noteworthy.

Noteworthy or not, I decided to send them a complaint letter anyway. It was a triumph of optimism over experience of course, but I rather enjoy writing them, and I can usually complete an elegant letter, dripping with vitriol in a matter of minutes. It's a gift.

I was not expecting anything more than a reply listing various excuses and an assurance that they are doing everything they can to provide a better service for me. Well, the reply was waiting for me on the door mat when I arrived home today, and bugger me if there wasn't £80 compensation in there. The tickets only cost me £60! Apparently they are currently offering double compensation for delays because of their terrible performance last year, so that was 2 x £30 for half a return journey. And they gave me another £20 because I complained about the overcrowding.

I'm feeling lucky. I may try and claim for the lack of trains yesterday.

In other news, the snow melted during the day, came back late afternoon, and has now frozen. I hope I can get a train tomorrow because I can't work from home. I left my laptop in the office. That was great planning wasn't it.

Ok that's it. I'm done, more tomorrow if I get time.

The Jackboot of Fate

At 6.30am, despite forecasts of snow, I discover upon looking out of the window that my street was flake free. Good thinks I, I'll go to work. But by the time I had dressed, spoken to the dragon and the boy, had some toast, cleaned teeth etc, we're knee deep in the stuff. A quick check on train conditions confirms that the entire country has ground to a halt, and according to friend Dickie in London, in excess of 6" has fallen on the capital. So, I'm working from home. No point in getting stranded due to inadequate rail facilities.



It's been a while since my last post here. Since that day there have been a couple of incidents that warrant an inclusion. Most notable was probably on Friday evening when I managed to throw a can of paint down the stairs. Luckily it was only a water based primer, and I do have a good carpet shampoo machine. It was however a nasty moment in my life. I was undercoating the woodwork in the bathroom ready for glossing this week. There I was at the top of the stairs, congratulating myself on a job well done, when the jackboot of fate kicked me firmly in the love-spuds.

It was but a small stumble. I was carrying too many things, I had wet hands. Two lengths of skirting board, a paint brush, a screwdriver, and the pot of paint went bouncing down the stairs. I saw it in slow motion, the lid flying off, the explosion of white emulsion into the air.

"Oh Bother!" I said.

As luck would have it, it looked much worse than it was. And it did look bad. It did come out of the carpet however. I was going to paint the skirting board in the conservatory, but I gave up that idea for the day. I have since completed that task without serious incident.

I spent the weekend in Devon with mother. It will be the last time I see her until I return from Devon.

Did you see Lost, series 5, episode 3? Charles Whidmore was an other! He was on the island in the 50s! I have no idea what's going on, but I've borrowed a VCR so I don't miss two episodes while I am away.

Right, what else was I going to tell you, oh yes, you remember about 100 years ago Kate Bush was leaping around singing Wuthering Heights? Well I heard a great cover version by the Ukulele orchestra of GB:



Go on, click it. You know you want to.