Put That Light Out!

Last evening, Mr Fink returned home from a game of squash with Mr Hammer. "Strange," quoth he, "When I got in the car to come home, the radio wouldn't turn on? Weird"

No matter...until 2.30am when I was woken by the sound of a nearby car alarm going off. I jumped out of bed (oh yeah, I can be agile if there's wrong doing afoot!) and bravely peeped out of the window. I couldn't tell which car was under attack due to the boundary wall being in the way but I could tell it was very near by (reflection of the hazard lights in the doors of the van at the end - just call me Sherlock).

Mr Fink wears ear plugs to bed - for reasons best known to himself (ahem hem). Again bravely, I woke him up and asked, "Is that your car alarm?" (Roughly translated as, "That is probably your car alarm, it's 2.30am, go and sort it out.") He looked out of the window, decided it wasn't his car and went back to bed.

As he settled to go back to sleep he muttered, "Is that Nelly's music, bloody hell it's loud." He slipped out of bed to Nelly's room to try and turn off her music. He returned with a puzzled look on his face. "It's not coming from her room?"

I could see the cogs turning in his brain, his mouth opened and said, "Green Day - Walking Contradiction" and went downstairs.

After much jangling of keys and walking round and round the car in his dressing gown, Mr Fink returned indoors.

The culprit? The poltergeist possessed radio in Mr Fink's car decided the world needed to hear Green Day at full volume at 2.30am! Weird.

Bits and Bobs

What a strange day. It started off on a bad note when Mr Fink leaned over the bed to kiss me goodbye this morning with the words, "Good luck at the dentist's!" Argh, I had forgotten all about it. anyway, Little Fink and I braved it and she got off scott free and I had to have mine cleaned. I hate that. The dentist was so clumsy, she kept banging the cleany instrument on my fangs and making them sing. I think I must suffer from ticklish teeth and not in a good way.

Had an enjoyable afternoon helping Nanny collect her new varifocals and trouser shopping with Little fink, she is so much fun to shop with - skinny jeans you can actually bend down in, what will they think of next? I liked the dusky pink leopard skin ones but she went for the plain goth black! Is this a sign of things to come?

After a lovely time I eventually said goodbye to Little Fink, Nanny and Shouty Grandad as they are off on the Grand Tour for the next week.

When I returned home and went to put Laura to bed, as I reached down to open the garage, my hand was covered in something sticky. This worried me as last week, some bright spark had let their dog do the biggest turd in the universe right in front of my garage door, it was so huge I could barely get the door open without touching the top of the poo with the bottom of the door.

So my first thought was, "Oh boy, what's that on the handle? How did they get the dog to do it up there?" I ventured to check more closely, only to find some creative oik had got hold of a jam rolly polly and smeared it all over the garage door and handle, left it to bake all day in the Spring sunshine and was probably watching somewhere nearby, laughing his ass off. It is so hard to drive a car with a jammy hand! I cleaned it all up and went home. All examples of a suitable punishment for the perpetrators to the usual address please.

Lady Driver Event

Our local Alfa Romeo dealer/servicing garage offered a 'Lady Driver Event' last night, partly to promote the new Alfa and also to help Laydees be more confident in their driving.

I went along with a friend for moral support! On arrival I was shown to my parking space! (They had staff patrolling the car park while we were inside, to keep our cars safe!) We were invited to have drinks and take part in a 'name the part' quiz, where there were 10 car parts on a table and you had to guess them - I got about 7/10.
Then an ex-Chief Insp. (I knew him when I worked at the local police) gave a talk on road rage, body language, defensive driving and keeping yourself safe in a confrontation.
Next we went into the workshop and I changed a wheel using a scissor jack.
This was all fine practising on the emergency spare wheel (which was as big as a normal wheel on my car!) but when I asked to try the proper wheel, I couldn't lift it off the ground! That would be good, I could get my self home but I'd have to leave my spanking new alloy wheel at the side of the road as I couldn't lift it into the boot!!
Then we were shown which fluids to check regularly and why. There was a light buffet and another drink.
Lastly we were treated to a rather dishy martial arts expert showing us some self defence techniques. How to get out of a strangle hold, how to get away if someone grabs your arm etc. He was lovely but sadly (Even though I was sitting very straight) didn't pick me out for a demonstration. When I got home and told Mr Fink (Green belt - Ju-Jitsu) he insisted on a demo and I am now covered in bruises all up my arms!

I'd recommend it - the Lady Driver Day, not the fight with Mr Fink!

New Who, Bambi and Truffle Dog

Well, well, well. There you have it, the new Who, not Jeeves as he claimed "I told you, it's me, I've been up all night polishing the TARDIS!". I'll reserve judgement till 2010 although I did think he had a crazy look in his eyes and mad arms.

I'm going to miss David so much, I bet Matt won't be able to make me cry at the end of an episode I've seen a hundred times (Girl in the Fireplace and when Rose is left on Bad Wolf Bay).

Anywhoo! today Mr Fink mostly spent the day at home, trying to breathe, hopefully the antibiotics will kick in soon and he can get back to normal. It's been 3-4 weeks since he took ill.

Little Fink and I went for a tramp in the woods (he didn't mind) with most of The Glums. Little Fink, Marsha, Bambino and Bambi (Mr Glum) on their bikes, me following along behind with The Glum's dog, Pongo. Pongo likes to mark every clump of grass, mark on the road and stone with a sniff and a wee. I called him Truffle Dog, which i think he quite liked, although, if he had found one, I wouldn't eat it as he would have wee'd on that too!

As i was walking along I encountered a couple with an Airdale, it had mud all round it's chops and i said, "He looks like he has eaten half the forest!". The owner explained that the airedale likes to carry BIG sticks in it's mouth. He described how the dog will carry a 10 foot stick/branch in it's mouth and 'take out' passing joggers with it as he walks past.

We loaded the bikes, kids and dog into the cars and set off for Mrs Glum's yummy shepherd's pie, as we were travelling along the dark country road, a deer bounded across the road in front of Bambi's car, a stunning sight and a close shave for the deer.

Not more than 50 yards along, I caught sight of a deer in my headlights, lying on the verge at the side of the road, it seemed like it was struggling to stand. I flashed the headlights at Bambi and pulled over, we investigated and as we walked to the deer, it was clear it had been hit by a car and had been left injured and unable to stand. I phoned the police and gave them the story, they said they would send out the deer warden to deal with it.

Little Fink recons that when she grows up, she is going to be a vet and I am going to be an animal rescuer, she said she will even buy me a van to collect the animals in. (She did suggest a push bike but I declined her kind offer)!

Happy Nyew Nyear to everyone

May I wish you all a Happy New Year and hex you all with the best of health and the most happiness for the coming 12 months.

New Year's Eve was a very quiet affair, Mr Fink and I alone in the house (Little Fink had gone to The Glum's for a sleep over) watching Jools' Hootenanny, in bed by 1am. Our 'event' is the yearly trip to the seaside.

Jan the first and up early to collect Nanny (Shouty Grandad didn't want to come - he is still recovering from the shoulder op he had this week) and thus to The Glum's. Off we go in convoy for 2 hours to Brightlingsea, a place that Nanny, Shouty Grandad, Little Fink and I had enjoyed last year.

It was very cold and there was not much beach, the chip shop was closed and I lost the will to live with all the complaints about my choice of venue and had a good old sulk.

Then Little Fink, Nanny, Bambino, Bambi and I had an impromptu game of foosball (a combination for netball/football and wrestling!) which soon got me out of my strop.

The consensus was for us to go to Clacton where it's more populated and we have been before. We had a lovely couple of hours there with fish and chips - why does Bambi take photo's of his food? Beach combing, metal detecting - still no gold - and a trip to the pier and arcades, where Bambino and I searched for the 'ugliest doll' offered as a prize - there were some horrors! (Watch out for pics in the coming weeks).

On the way back we (Finks and Nanny) checked out St Osyth's, which had been recommended to me by a couple of people at work. The village looked lovely, in the dark!, but as we followed the signs and Sat Nav to the beach, we were guided through a caravan park. The clientele of the park must have been an 'interested' bunch as on one parade of shops there was, on the end - a bookmakers, next to that a tattoo shop and next to that an off licence - on a camp site????

We headed home, Little Fink and I fell asleep and Mr Fink's cold returned with a vengeance.

We start the New Year, happy, optimistic and full of bogeys!

(Oh, and it's been a year since I had a fag! Yay me!)

OK, How do they know to talk to me?

So what is it about me that attracts the Sad, Mad and now the Bad?

I was minding my own business, filling up the car with petrol. I hung the pump back on it's holster when a car containing a man and a girl stopped next to me, wound down the window and asked for directions to a local street.

I gave directions as best as I could, to which he replied he had a few 'messages' he was going to give the resident of one of the houses???? It transpired the resident was accused of doing 'something nasty' with/to the car-man's other daughter and he was going round there to sort him out. I gave him lots of helpful advice like go to the police, don't get yourself into trouble, think about the little girl in the car - all ignored in that special way only the mad/bewildered have and he went on his way.

So I'm wondering what it is about me that attracts them? Is it the pixie hat my mum knitted for me? my big CK Boots? or Laura the bright green car? If you know please tell me so i can go out in disguise.

Where the heck is it then?

It's Christmas. I've been doing my shopping online as i can't bear going to the shops. I bought a gift from Ebay for Little Fink. I waited a week and the item had not arrived. The seller had sent me an email to say he sent it on the 23rd Nov and the number to track the delivery is AB123456123456AB. HOORAY. What a superstar, how sensible a chap to track the delivery.

I typed the reference number in the Royal Mail tracker, "We attempted to deliver your item on 26th Nov. A 'While you were out' note was put through your door, please collect from your depot or arrange redelivery via the internet." note? what note?

I jumped on the internet and arranged for the item to be delivered to my local Post Office. I received the email confirming the redelivery request and was ready to pick up parcel on Dec 2 (my birthday).

I went to the local Post Office, "Hello, do you have a parcel for me?" Lady, "No, he hasn't been yet." Me, "Oh, what time does he come?" Her, ~"Anytime, can be anytime." Me - "Thank you, I'll come back tomorrow."

I left it a few days, went back. No parcel. yesterday (7th Dec) I went to the main depot, No parcel, no indication that the parcel had ever been in the depot, it is a ghost parcel. Also checked at the local Post Office. nope, nada.

I've emailed the seller, he is sympathetic to my plight. has sent me a scan of the receipt of postage and the tracking document.

I only hope they have sent it back to him and he will send it on eventually.

My favourite part of the story is the response I got from Customer Services for Royal mail. they don't publish a phone number so you can phone the depot and see if your parcel is there, you have to drive there and fight for the 3 (yes 3) parking spaces to get in to see if your parcel is there. The Customer Care lady took the details, said she will phone the depot, get them to investigate, they will call her and she (or someone from the Customer Care team) will call me back. "ooh lovely, thank you for being so helpful," says I, "What time do you think you'll call back?". " Oh about Friday."

Is it me?

Mind elsewhere?

" dyslexics are teople poo "

On Friday it was Little Finks' sports day. Of a day of 2 hours, there was only 1 competitive race for each age group, which was itself optional!

The only saving grace was...Little Fink won her race!

I headed off for work at 11.30. I usually park my car at the local park and ride and take the hospital staff bus to work. I'd missed it so drove my car to the NCP opposite the hospital and went to work.

After work I got on the hospital staff bus, made a few phone calls while I waitied for the departure time. We set off, I looked across the road at the car park and saw a car just like mine on the top level. ARGH. Tom kindly stopped the bus and let me off, laughing all the way.

Preoccupied? You think?

Look out! Rant alert!

It's happened. I'm officially one of Terry's TOGs (Terry Wogan's Old Geezers). There are so many things niggling away at me at the moment I could have a Micheal Douglas journey (Falling Down) any day now.

Item 1. The mothers at school. About 8 years ago the children of the primary school Little Fink goes to, made some totem poles out of redundant junk found in the school, old chairs, bits of table, remnants of wood etc. They made the sculptures, painted them and had them planted in the school grounds. They looked great, really original. None of the school children has defaced these poles or touched them in all that time, until this week. This week when the 6-7 years old moved up to the playground in readiness for the next school year. 3 separate mothers completely ignored the fact that their children were breaking these sculptures, climbing all over them, hitting them with the broken off bits. I am sick and tired of women not being responsible for their childrens' actions. I turned to one and said, "Is that your son climbing on that statue? It has been here for nearly 10 years and your son has been here less than a week and is about to break it." She didn't say anything to me and tried to call her son away to no avail. He is obviously used to doing just exactly what he likes, as are the others.

Item 2. Of which no 'crime' is being committed, apart from the imagined one in my mind!
There is a driver who parks his green Vauxhall Astra outside my back gate some nights and it makes my blood boil. He lives about 200 yards around the corner in a 3 storey town house with 2/3 parking spaces at the front of it. It drives me mad, why does he have to park there? When the whole road is empty, he parks outside my gate. WHY? I want to write a note on his car, report him for a phantom infringement, just get him away from my home and out of 'my' parking space. Yes i know you all pay your road tax, so do I. But why does he have to park outside my house when there is more than enough space outside his house? ARGH

OK rant over, just enough left in me to say, Little Fink starts Ju-Jitsu on Thursday, with the tutors that used to teach Mr Fink! Roll on Thursday!

Oh I Do Like To Be beside The Seaside...

This is Hemsby beach, near Great Yarmouth.

Mr Fink and I spent many happy holidays here in the years prior to Little Fink's arrival!

This weekend, in true 'grab the weekend by the throat and shake it til you have fun' stylee, Mr Fink took myself and Little Fink to the seaside. It is only 3 hours away but it took us 5 because we couldn't decide on a B&B we liked (I thought the landladies were taking one look at my figure in shorts and deciding their guesthouses were full, but Mr fink said it wasn't so!) they were either too run down, too remote, too expensive or in some one's house (I'd feel weird just wandering in and out) or in pubs which looked 'lively'. In the end we plumped for a respectable hotel in Gt Yarmouth that Little fink loved (she had bunk beds and a TV in her room!). It was very reasonable and I would recommend 'Sunnydene, North Dene's Road, Gt Yarmouth' any day.

We dumped our gear, went to Little California (near Caister), it was about 7pm by this time, bought fish and chips and sat on the rocks looking out to sea eating our supper. It was very misty and the lady in the chip shop said it had been so for 2-3 days, so bad that the guys working on the oil rigs had been unable to take off in the helicopter transports to get them to the rigs, for days. Ho hum, had we travelled all this way and spent 5 hours in the car for misty seascapes? The morning would tell.

Sunday morning woke us with bright sunshine and the smell of the sea. We had our breakfast and set off. We found our spot under the sand dunes, characteristic 'breeze' blowing across the sand and enjoyed 6 hours of beach fun, sun and sand. Little Fink and Mr Fink built volcanoes, pits, castles, rock sculptures and buries each other in the sand. The sea was too cold for swimming but the view was superb.

Thank you for a super day Mr Fink and I hope the sunburn on the backs of your legs subsides quickly!

It's Only a Car

RETARDS - We all know one.

Poor Mr Fink. After a hard day at work, he heads home in his new black car, stops off at the garage, fills up with petrol, pays and sets off for home, slippers and tea.

Spot the mistake....

Mr Fink drives a diesel. OOPS.

He calls me and sounds fairly upset, he spent a lot of money on the car and it is his baby = if it's not working perfectly, he doesn't like it and it drives him nuts.

He calls roadside assistance, after a while, the guy arrives - he can't believe it, it's only the same chap that fixed the brakes problem a few months ago when we couldn't get the wheel off!

The guy sorts Mr Fink and the car out and off he goes on his merry way.

All I can say is Mr Fink must have cut a desperate and sad figure at the roadside because, the very next day he had 2 welfare calls. One from the roadside assistance chap - checking to see if he and the car were OK! and one from our plumber!! (he had driven past Mr Fink and was concerned that he got home OK - obviously not so concerned that he stopped and helped...but concerned none the less.)

I am happy to report, Mr Fink and Roger (it's black and fast...Roger Black???) are all back to normal and running (scuse the pun) fine.

UPDATE - Mr Fink tells me my blog is slightly inacurate ("Heavens, NO!"), Steve the plumber phoned Mr Fink, while Mr Fink was at the roadside, to offer his assistance. Ahhh what a nice guy.

Bunny Buddies

I have been reading up on how to keep a happy bunny. As you may know, we acquired a big black rabbit from Freecycle in Nov 2006. We were allowed, by Mr Fink, to have a rabbit one one condition - that it was not kept in a cage - Mr Fink does not like animals in cages.

So Mr Chips, the big black bunny lives his life freerange on our garden. He has eaten all the flowers and manages to keep the lawn grass short (but not under the climbing frame for some reason??).

According to the Rabbit Welfare Society, one of the most important things a rabbit needs for his wellbeing and mental health is a companion. Rabbits are social creatures and not made for solitude. Many people put a guinea pig with a bunny for company but this is not idea for reasons of health (guinea pigs need daily vitimin C, rabbits do not) and safety - the bunny might just get 'too friendly' with the guinea pig and do it an injury. So, being a responsible bunny owner, I have been reading up on what I need to do to get Mr Chips a pal.

According to the leaflet - and this is all true - the bunnies need to be neutered and to meet on neutral ground, the leaflet suggests placing both rabbits in a confined space which has neither rabbits smell on. They suggest the bathtub. (the regular followers of this blog will remember - as will BigMac! that we had the bath removed last Summer). They also suggest that when the bunnies are used to each others company, to get them to bond, they should be placed together in a situation of mild peril! The leaflet suggest placing both rabbits in a carrier and taking them for a drive in the car. The unfamiliar surrounds, noise and motion will encourage the rabbits to huddle together for mutual comfort and bond as buddies for ever. Imagine the scene, me driving round in a bright green car, rabbits in a box in the back, stopped by the Police, "Good Evening madam, might I enquire as to your business being out on a night like this?". I can see him getting the straight jacket out of the car as I reply, "Do you mind officer, I'm in the middle of the delicate process of 'bunny-bonding."

The officer will say, "I thought she made a New Year's resolution to be more sensible this year." As they lock me up and throw away the key.

The Funniest Journey

After leaving York, We headed off to see Ched and Doris, Mr Fink dropped me off and I planned to stay for a few nights. They already had company, their niece and nephew, 'Stinky' and 'Slash - Guitar Hero'. We decided to go to Whitby to search for Jet and to have fish and chips by the sea. The journey there was really funny, I taught the children the rules of the 'yellow-car game'. http://www.yellowcargame.co.uk/ We managed to get to Whiby in more or less one piece, despite the snow and had a smashing time. It's a really beautiful town, very oldie-worldie, cobbled streets, steam buses, fish and chip shops, old fashioned sweets and really windy, snowy cold weather. We went to search for Whitby jet but couldn't find any. Stinky found a lump of slate and when I checked her coat later, most of Whitby beach in her coat pocket. The children and Ched went up the 199 steps to Whitby Abbey, the inspiration for the Dracula story. Doris and I sensibly remained behind and shopped for jewellery.

So after a lovely day we headed home, Ched and Doris in the front of the car and me, Stinky and Slash in the back, I sat in the middle to minimise the effects of the yellow car game fallout.

As I relaxed and rested my head, the radio started to play, "The number of the Beast" by Iron Maiden. I have never heard and seen anything so funny as 2 beautiful, blonde, angelic looking children (aged 6-Stinky and 9-Slash) singing in tune and at the tops of their voices (one in each of my ears)...

"Six, six, six the Number of the Beast. Sacrifice is going on tonight"

They made the journey home fly by. Brilliant

The Wonders of Modern Technology - Not

(In the picture, I love the expression on the fishes face)

Anyway, This morning Mr Fink and I (no Little Fink, she is at Cub camp and we are missing her terribly!) went to a beautiful local village to have a look at a sideboard we are thinking of buying. As we came back through country lanes and emerged from a passing place, a terrible screeching/scraping noise issued from the front nearside wheel. It sounded like fingernails being dragged down a black-board. Mr Fink reversed a little to dislodge whatever it was, to no avail. We looked at taking the wheel off to check if we could sort the problem. When Mr Fink looked at buying the car, he insisted it must have alloy wheels. Now we faced the problem that the wheel nuts on the car appeared to need a speacial star shaped screwdriver to get them off. We searched the car and found the spare wheel, a spanner, a screwdriver (Posidrive, not star shaped) a bent wire thing and a star shaped socket. I know what you're thinking - the socket was the wrong size!

Mr Fink phoned the VW roadside assistance and within the hour, a lovely chap arrived. We surmised that as breakdowns go, ours was one of the more agreeable ones - we had picked a beautiful village and the first crisp clean spring like day - blue skies and birdsong (apart from the raucous 'car alarm sparrow' which was a real bird but, it had such a repetative call, it sounded terrible).

The wonderful Vdub man showed us how to use the wire thing, the screwdriver and the socket to get the wheel off. He checked the disk and caliper and eventually found the brake pad sensor (tells you when your brake pads need replacing) had broken off and become wedged in the disk and was rubbing when the wheel was turning, luckily it had not damaged the brakes or disk.

The man taped it up with some insulating tape, put the whole lot back together, Mr Fink test drove the car and all was hunky dory. We said goodbye and headed home. The car goes in to VW on Monday to have the sensor replaced - no doubt they will wash it AGAIN. I swear Mr Fink arranges for these thing to happen so that he gets a free car wash?

My thoughts are....we know we can make these sensors and gadgets, do we ever question if these things are really needed? If there had been no brake pad sensor, there would not have been anything to snap and get lodged in the wheel. How was the problem fixed? With a high tech solution? No. A piece of black sticky tape. The wonders of modern technology? I wonder.

Sat Nav Mystery Tour

Mr Fink knows how to show a girl a good time. Imagine if you will, it's Saturday night, 6.30pm, Little Fink has gone to Nannies for the night, we have a couple of quid in our pockets and the world is our oyster - what would a young(ish) couple go and do?

"Let's got to Ikea and look at shoe cupboards" he said. "O.K." I said.

What a team. We set off for the Milton Keynes branch. I typed, "IKEA" into the Sat Nav and waited.......not known, although it did come up with "RIDEABIKEAWAY, Coventry". As I was on the phone to Mrs Glum asking for directions, MR Fink turned the corner and HEY PRESTO, there it was. It was 5 to 7.

We assumed it would be open til 8 or 10pm. Nope, 7.30pm. Dagnabbit. We ran round that shop until we found the shoe cupboards, found the one we liked and came away without buying anything.

The trip home was much more exiting, the Sat Nav took us all through residential streets, little villages, at one point we were on a new road and the Sat Nav showed us wombling across a field?? We did however see the Whipsnade lion all lit up! I didn't know it had lights.

Boy, do we know how to have fun!

Nannie wants to go somewhere to play with her metal detector during half term.
Any suggestions on a postcard to the usual address, and none of your "Over the hills and far away" type gags, OK?

Here I go again!

I've done it again. I think I'll have to go on some kind of anger management course or something. I shouted at a stranger in the street.

I parked Laura ready to go pick Little Fink up from school. I am careful to park considerately as the local residents have to suffer us twice a day bunging up their road. I parked on the end of a row of cars, there was no room behind my car as it is the exit to a local nursery.

I picked Little Fink up and returned to the car, to find that some bright spark had parked behind Laura. The car was about an inch away from mine. I had parked close to the car in front to allow anyone exiting the nursery the best visibility to get out onto the main road, so I was blocked in.

I sat and fumed for a few minutes, told Little Fink to put her seat belt on as there was going to be a ruck when the other driver returned. I gently steamed for another few minutes.

Then the driver returned, wandering down the road with her little daughter running up and down, chatting to a couple of the other mums. She stopped by her car and chatted away to the women for a minute or so while my blood reached boiling point. I jumped out of the car and shouted, "Are you going to be long? I've been sitting here for 10 minutes waiting for you because you parked so inconsiderately and have blocked me in. Not only that but you have blocked the exit to the nursery, no cars can get out of the car park. How could you not realise? It's people like you that give the rest of us women drivers a bad name."

She looked at me with big, brown, apologetic eyes and replied what I think was "Sorry" but she was Polish so I couldn't understand a word she said.

My rant wasted. Typical.

Add insult to injury

Poor Mr Fink, on Friday I arrived home at 7pm (that's not why we should feel sorry for him, I'm coming to that) only to find that during the day, his right elbow had swollen up, turned angry red and felt like it was on fire.

After a 3 hour wait in Casualty, anti biotics, the threat of lancing, flu symptoms brought on by the infection, the arm is still as red, swollen and hot as it was on Friday. The only difference is that he is not allowed to drink (not that he feels like it at the moment) because of the pills the doc gave him.

I'm a sort of 'the glass is half full' type of person, and with the holiday season upon us, it did occur to me that Mr Fink's inability to drink might be useful? When it dawned on me - because his arm is so swollen, he can't drive either. DOH (and him with a new car too!)

You can tell I'm the caring sort? No?