The Rollercoaster trundles on

This week Mr Fink's family had some news about his mum's medical condition, not good news. If you know mum and want to know more, call us.

Yesterday the plumber removed the shower from Fink Mansion so the 3 of us trooped along to Shouty Grandad's house for a shower each - how happy was he? He's on a water meter!!!!

I was first up, I offered Mr Fink the choice of towels, our old blue scabby large one or the newer smaller purple one, he said he didn't mind so I took the smaller one and had my shower. Very refreshing.

Mr Fink headed off for his wash and brush up. About 10 minutes later a cry from the bathroom, "Mrs Fink, come and help me!" When I arrived I found that I had accidentally brought the towel the cat sleeps on and subsequently, as Mr Fink had wiped the water from his face, he had spread discarded cat hair all over his damp skin. Face, neck and body. He said it was like being covered in itchy cobwebs. He had lumps of cat hair velcro'd to his beard. Euwwww.

Needless to say I broke down in fits of laughter and he went and he had another shower - (sorry about that Grandad, just think, "It's only money!")

In other news, Liam the Ovenu guy came round and did a sterling job cleaning my cooker (for the third year running) despite having a bad cold. Thank you Liam! I left the oven light on all evening so i could see the cooker gleaming.

Mr Fink back on form

This tin of Redcurrant Glory was going to be one of the feature colours of Little Fink's bedroom however she settled for gold and silver walls. Mr Fink has been meaning to take the paint back to B&Q for a refund since just after Christmas but what with his eye operations and everything, we hadn't got round to it till today.

I parked in a disabled bay, Mr Fink went into the shop with the paint. A disabled driver turned up so I vacated the space and drove round the front of the store. I saw Mr Fink standing in the doorway and a huge red stain spreading out across the shop floor. I parked the car and went in.

As he had entered the shop, the automatic door had not opened fully and as Mr Fink walked through, the door had caught his arm causing him to drop the paint can. Smash....

Redcurrant Glory everywhere. Up his leg, on his boots, over his hands and a massive puddle all over the floor.

We tried to help the lads clean it up but we eventually retreated and left the shop full of embarrassment! AND NO REFUND!

So if you go to your local B&Q and see a big red/cerise stain in the doorway, you know Mr Fink woz 'ere!

Day 1 of the Bunny Back Rub

Day one of the treatment of Billie. I've been worrying about it all day - what would happen, how would I hold her, at what point would I give up - how would I get her back better if she wouldn't let me hold her?

I need not have worried. This time at least, I shooed her into the hutch, shut the door, lifted the lid and as she cowered in the corner, I picked her out, supported her weight, chatted to her and held her to me. Mr Fink was ready with the cream, administered it while she shivered in my arms.

When he was finished, I placed her back in the hutch and shut the lid, fed her and told her how good she had been. It could not have gone better. Let's hope the good stuff continues....more tomorrow.

All Things in Moderation

I've been listening to a couple of Little Fink's pals and become aware of just how much notice they take of the world around them. they are both worried about Swine Flu.

I wanted to show them the perspective of what the media was making such a fuss about.

I asked Mr Fink how many people live in the UK? He said £60 million give or take. The children and I then visited the Google Maps site that is mapping the outbreak and saw the single figures of infections in the UK. I THINK the children understood what I was trying to show them?

I came across another source of info which brought it home to me. The media are hysterical about Swine flu, Bird Flu, SARS when the real wicked things to worry about claim many more lives than all these put together. The article that turned my head was http://www.thegoodhuman.com/2009/04/27/swine-flu-should-be-the-least-of-our-concerns/

I wonder what will be next? My bet - Dragon flu or the old Goons standby - Lurgy. (Or Shouty Grandad's Iggy Biggys) ick

Cub Camp and Half Term

The picture on the right is not a scene from one of Mr Fink's zombie films. It is Little Fink's bag from cub camp. the brown bits are the bottoms of her trouser legs, she fell in the bog again.

Everything smelled of woodsmoke - not an unpleasant niff but the blue jumper on the left had an underlying 'parfam' of 'eau de mackerelle'!

The washer earned it's money and got the lot clean - except the socks!

Dirty

Little Fink and I have been off school/work 4 days out of 5 last week. Mainly due to the school staff - already low on numbers - not being able to get into work from their distant homes. We had a lovely week, enjoying Mr Fink's company on a couple of occasions, when we all went out in the snow and sledged/sledded, snowballed, snowmanned and iglooed.

Mr Fink joined the ranks of the hundreds of other fathers that do not routinely slide down hills on their bottoms, when he woke up suffering from lower back twinges - "Ooh me coccyx!" he groaned, at least that's what I THINK he said?

Big Mac and AbuDhabi came round on Thursday as their school was also closed due to inclement weather. You know when you've been a slob and not done any housework when your good friend looks at your dark wood sideboard and says, "I'm glad you don't take dusting too seriously either."

I'm not house proud but it strikes a nerve when your household cleanliness is so bad your pals see it as an opportunity for humour.

So, now that it is Sunday, a mere 3 days after the comment, I feel bad enough about it to get the fluffy duster out!

Stand by your beds for inspection - if it don't move, clean it, if it does move, chuck it in the bath!

Worth Every Penny!

Can you spot the difference? It's that time of year again when I get out the web search and type in "oven cleaning service". It's been a year since i had it done and the cooker had not been touched AT ALL, eugh how filthy am I?

Anywhoo, I couldn't get hold of Liam from Ovenu this time so I called a nice chap from Cookerburra, he came (even phoned to say he was running ahead of schedule and could he come early!!) and cleaned the cooker (top and bottom oven) for 2 hours. In my opinion, well worth every penny. What a result. I may even go mad and let the Finks use it soon! I may not be so dirty this year and get it done more than once!

Yoghurt, fire alarms and shouting

They say things come in threes.

1. I took a delicious Madagascan Vanilla yogurt to work for my breakfast. I opened my bag with anticipation at the thick creamy treat I was about to enjoy. NAH, something must have rested on the carton and squashed it. The top had burst and yogurt had exploded all over the inside of my bag. Deep joy. I cleaned it up and as one of my friends says, "Look for the silver lining"...at least my bag smells nice - I hope it lasts and doesn't turn sour.

2. The fire alarms went off at the hospital where i work today. The patients were ushered out, fire engines zooming around and lots of general mayhem going on. (Pity the poor patient stuck in the middle of an MRI machine at the time.) While all this cacophony of noise and people was going on, a patient approached me and asked, "Do you think my 2 o clock appointment will be late?" I surveyed the seven shades of chaos around me, turned to the man, gestured at the melee with my hands and said gently, "Sir, i would almost certainly guarantee it."

3. Little Fink's first netball game at the local sport centre. the chaps tried hard but were soundly beaten, lots of healthy encouragement from the sidelines by the parents. As the children were taking a drinks break between matches, the panic alarm on the nearby tanning booth kept going off, much to the annoyance to the sociopathic receptionist (she and I have history). She tutted, stomped up the corridor, made sure no one was dying in the booth, shut the door and reset the alarm. A few minutes later the alarm went off again. As she marched back to her desk and throne, she said, loud enough for the parents to hear, "Those kids keep setting that off, I don't know WHO is supposed to be looking after them?" I had been watching the booth. As the children were running up and down,. the vibration was causing the door to open and this must have somehow set off the alarm, none of the kids went in. So as she uttered her accusation, I took it personally. "THOSE KIDS as you say, are not setting the alarm off, there is no one in there, you want to get your facts right before you start accusing the children." She said, "Don't you shout at me." (bare in mind there are 4 teams of 9 x 11-year-olds along with parents and coaches talking, yelling and encouraging, in the background). "I've got to shout to be heard over this din." quoth I. she just sat and festered. I've got a good mind to write to the sports centre about her anti social attitude. She acts like we are intruding on her domain instead of being helpful and welcoming. well she doesn't know but I've hexed her good and proper. Boy is she going to be surprised when she wakes up with that boil in the most uncomfortable place for a receptionist!

Do I Look Like a Mug?

Long time no Blog?

We've been really busy entertaining Asterix and the Silver Surfer (Mr Finks mum and her hubby). We had a smashing game of poker, where Mr Fink beat me good and proper and the Silver Surfer beat Mr Fink!

We've also been worrying about Little Fink's schooling, which school should she go to when she is 11? It's 3 years away but if we were to take a drastic step like, move house, we would need to start planning it now.

We had a little look round the area of one of the schools we think is OK and came to realise, we like Chez Fink a lot! It got me cleaning everything and chucking out all the stuff we don't need. In between this mass tidy up, helped my Mr Fink and Little Fink, we took time out to make a movie. It was about Pirates, Little Fink wrote the script, directed, held the camera and had us in hysterics! Oh the fun we have.

I did however feel like I was being made a fool of. I was blitzing Little Fink's room and chucking out a load of her clothes, putting things away when I asked her to get under the cabin bed and pull the hidden clothes out for me. She did that and when i looked round a few minutes later, I looked round and, instead of helping ME tidy HER room, she was lying on a cushion reading the Beano!!!!! Argh. So I gave her a piece of my mind and she scarpered.

Hey Ho!

A Rubbish Way to Diet

Picture the scene.

It's Tuesday morning (I am not a morning person), I have about 20 minutes to, empty and refill the dishwasher, feed the cats, get Little Fink's breakfast, make sure she has brushed her teeth and hair (with the correct brushes - you have no idea how absent minded she can be), empty and fill the washer, fold up dry clothes and hang out wet ones, make my sandwich for lunch, gather all our bags, coats and luggage and dash out the door to get the car and go to school.

I have prioritised the tasks and decide to only do those I need to do to get out of the door, so the dishwasher, washer and airer go out the window til i get back and I concentrate on feeding the cats, Little Fink and my own lunch. I put the cereal etc on the table and start on my sandwich.

Ooh, no boss in this week, I'll have something stinky, cheese and gherkin, yum.

Made the sarnies, just cutting them (sarnies ALWAYS taste better cut into triangles rather than oblongs - fact) when Little Fink picks up the juice bottle and fills her cup, she slips, the head of the bottle goes into the shallow cup producing a spectacular fountain of orange rising up in the style of 'Ole Faithful' all over the work top and specifically ALL OVER MY SANDWICH.

To be fair, there wasn't that much cleaning up, just the floor, the wall tiles, the base unit cupboard doors (inside and out) the sink and draining board. the majority of the worktop was relatively dry because the juice had been soaked up by MY SANDWICH.

No time to make a new one, we grabbed the bags and ran out the door.

It's no way to diet you know!

Another brilliant idea

It's a piece of kake...

I have a brilliant idea for the military. Forget all these new designs for stealth bombers with angled surfaces to deflect and reflect radar. The army should just make their tanks out of the same stuff that toilet roll skeletons are made of. you know, the cardboard tube inside the roll.

Once these rolls have lost their covering of toilet paper, they become invisible to 2/3's of the population - at least in our house anyway.

In the past, i have set up experiments with these tubes. I have left them on the side in the bathroom to see how many will gather before they become visible to the other members of my family. Go on guess. 2? 3?....

7 SEVEN!!! and even then they were not spotted. I could not bear it any more and I removed them to the bin.

If the army don't want to paint their tanks in toilet roll tubes, they could alternatively use...black socks, children's shoes or anything belonging to Little Fink. It appears that I am the only one that can see these items once they have left the hand of their owner.

PS - To all the army bods looking for spies, I am obviously a great candidate for enemy spotting as I have this uncanny ability to see things others can not. Call me.

The little darling

(I don't know why I chose a prawn either, I just liked it)

At work the other day, I was walking down the corridor, back to my office, when I went past a mother and young son waiting to be seen.
I usually try to smile or acknowledge the patients as they wait, I can't bare it when staff walk by you and pretend you are not there, just in case you try to ask them a question. Not me, I am big and brave and not afraid of patients' questions.
So I smiled at the little boy, he was about 6, he smiled back cheekily, so I upped the ante and blew him a nice juicy raspberry. What boy wouldn't collapse in a fit of giggles at the big lady making a fool of herself?

"Mummy.....that lady just spat at me" he shouted indignantly at full volume, to the rest of the hospital patients.

Oh, the shame. I am such a prawn.

Now wash your hands!

Picture the scene.
Little Fink and her sleepover buddy, AbuDhabi come down in the morning - Little Fink's intention is to show off her new found cooking skills and to make AbuDhabi scrambled eggs for breakfast.
It was hot last night so they are only in vest and knickers, standing barefoot on the kitchen floor, ready to start breaking eggs.
I took one look at them and said,
"That look, just does not have 'hygene' written on it - anywhere. Go put your clothes on!"

Kids, "But we've washed out hands!"

For he's a jolly good fellow...

After a couple of months of upheaval, dirt, dust, plaster and sawdust. Mr Fink has finished the major works to the house. We have ditched (for ditched read 'sold on EBay') the blond Ikea look and gone for grown up Yew furniture - amazingly it is cheaper to buy solid yew furniture second hand than to buy 'cheap new stuff from Argos! Anywho, The furniture is in, the skirting is on and the new carpet is down. It looks amazing - thank you Mr Fink for all your hard work.

My question is this - what is the required 'cooling-off' period for a new carpet? What is the maximum length of time a mum can claim, "No you can't, I've got a new carpet and I don't want it getting dirty/stained/trodden on." I would estimate about 2 or 3 years but Mr and Little Fink are looking more at a week.

For instance, Little Fink currently has a friend round for tea (to join us in eating tea, you understand, we are not eating the friend!) and they have been playing at the table, I went in to see what they were doing and it was...

STICKING, GLUEING and... G L I T T E R...

the carpet has only been down 72 hours!

I didn't go mad but went and had a little cry under the stairs instead. (The children tell me their teacher (approx 14 years of age by the look of her) sometimes goes into her stationery cupboard for a cry if she has an argument with her boyfriend. ??????? I kid you not. What is the world coming to?

The Wash Cloth - A Joke

This was sent to me via email - I liked it because I could imagine it happening to me!
I reiterate - this did not happen to me!!

The Wash Cloth

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week. Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45am.
The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare. As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.
I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in. Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away.
I was a little surprised when the doctor said,
'My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?' I didn't respond. After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal ... Some shopping, cleaning, and cooking.
After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, 'Mommy, where's my washcloth?' I told her to get another one from the cupboard. She replied,

'No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it.'

Never going back to that doctor. Ever.

Fun in the sand.

This weekend was brilliant, we went to a family wedding in Cambridge which was lots of fun. On Sunday, Mrs Glum wasn't feeling too good so we borrowed Miss Glum (to be known from now on as 'Marsha' - you remember from the Brady Bunch - Miss Glum has long blond hair).

The girls played happily on the trampoline, in the bedroom and around Mr Fink painting the skirting boards. After a while they noticed a couple of roughty-tufty school boy friends playing out on the green and Little Fink asked if they could go out and play rounders. Off they went, with the usual instructions about 1. Don't talk to strangers. 2. Don't go off the green. 3. No fighting. Little Fink dressed from head to toe in black (boots, trousers, coat etc), Marsha dressed in white bomber jacket and pale trousers.

All was well when the front door opened and Marsha popped her head round the door, "Please may we go down the alley next to the end house?" It turned out the boys had gone down there, so I said yes as long as they stay together and (because the boys are more roughty-tufty than the girls) if the girls see anyone doing anything which seems wrong, to come straight home.

About 30 minutes later I called them in for their showers, they were all rosy cheeks and full of fresh air, just as young children should now that the nights are lighter.

I ask if they have been having fun and what have they been up to when Marsha pipes up, "Well, Little Fink had a sand fight with the boys." It would appear that 'down the alley', there was a big Wicks bag of builders sand, you know - the stuff that sends your skin bright orange if you touch it?? The kids decided if might be fun to throw some around and hey presto, 20 minutes later, Little Fink has become Tango man.

I make her get undressed in the shower to avoid contaminating the freshly glossed skirting boards and the wrath of Mr Fink!

Suddenly it occurs to me that Marsha, her white bomber jacket and waist length blond hair may need some urgent attention after the orange sand fight (and how am I going to explain a newly ginger daughter to Mrs Glum). I check with Marsha and she says, "No I didn't join in the sand fight, i kept out of the way." Phew.

What are the chances of swapping girls? Do you think Mrs Glum would notice?

Gadget boy stikes again...

I'm off to bed soon. "why so early?" I hear you cry? Well, Mr Fink has just been reinfected with Gadget-itis and upgraded, not only the TV but the DVD too. So unless I want to sit and watch him plug cables in, I'm off to bed. Can anyone tell me why is it, new tellys have to be highly polished black plastic - incorporating a high static charge which acts as a dust magnet? I wipe that flippin telly every day and as I wipe it, the dust zings back in the path where the cloth has just been. Any suggestions on dust bustin' the TV would be greatly welcomed. (Also, when the sunlight hits the TV from the window opposite, the screen is matt and dos not reflect the sun, but the 'frame' of gloss plastic reflects it like a mirror and you end up with retina burn in the shape of a rectangle. Little Fink has to wear a welders mask to watch Hannah Montana some afternoons!)

I love Mr Fink when he is playing with his gadgets. He gets it all out of the box, gets all the PCM, HGV, HDCM cables (or whatever they are called), plugs etc. puts it all together like a complex air-fix kit, then sits back on his heels, TA DA..... there is no sound.

"Bugger," says Mr Fink, "I'll have to read the instructions now!"

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.

Public Liability

I work at the local hospital in a clerical capacity. There are many rules and regulations concerning patient confidentiality - as there should be. We take great care never to leave documents lying around that have names, addresses and medical histories on them. Computers are locked and never left with patients details displayed when the user moves away from the screen. We can loose our jobs if we misuse the information or don't look after it properly. We have to take a course in Data Protection and Patient Identifiable Information.

The other 'hot' topic at the moment is hand hygiene. what with MRSA and all it's nasty chums visiting the hospital more often these days, we know how important it is to wash out hands carefully and prevent cross infection. Use the gel dispensers that are on every clinical area to stop us spreading infection and germs.

I don't know how many of these rules I broke today but I know it was lots.

I printed out patients' medical reports for my boss to take and discuss with his medical colleagues at a hospital meeting. I put them in a pile ready for him to collect. I left the office, locked my PC, closed the door (keycode entry - noone can walk in and read the papers) and walked down the corridor to the loo. When one of the clinical staff said to me - "What's that on your arm?" I looked down and there on the underside of my forearm was printed (back to front) a patients medical record. Where I had printed it out - I had leant on it before the ink was dry.

Aaargh.

I quickly found an old tissue in my pocket, licked it and rubbed off the sensitive details (what mum hasn't done this to a mucky child in the playground?) I thought the nurse was going to faint at my lack of hygene! (I did wash properly in the sink in the loo!)

I may be looking for a non-hospital related job in the near future!

Oh YUCK, that's disgusting.

What is the most efficient way to wake me up and get me out of bed in the morning.

I didn't know this until this morning at 6.30am. The alarm had gone off for the first time, I reached my leg over the cover to cool down a bit. It slowly dawned on me that I had a cold, wet big toe??? My brain put two and two together and went from asleep...to "OH YUCK that is disgusting" in 0.4 seconds. I realised that earlier in the night, the cat must have been sick on the cover and I had put my foot in it. I hopped to the bathroom (didn't want to get furball on the floor as well!) and washed my foot, cleared up the mess and got back into bed. Mr Fink just pretended he hadn't noticed. (I bet he knew hours ago but just waited for me to discover it and clean it up!)

Ah well, my 3 weeks off work is nearly over, it is so hard to go back after time off. I've just checked the calendar and it would appear, because of school holidays, I don't work a full month again until September - how cool is that!

Also, I have found a groovy website "GeoCache". It's a treasure hunt type of thing, members hide a tupperware box full of trinkets and a log book somewhere, post the coordinates on the internet and you can go and find it (I get to play with my Sat Nav too!). You can swap a trinket, sign the log book and put the cache back. You can then record your find on the website. We had a quick look for one in the Car Park at Dymchurch but I didn't find it (time was tight). There is one close to where I live so, when the weather fairs up a bit, I'll be mooching about in the hedgerows looking for tupperware!