Tag Archives: boring

They are indeed…..

A local farmer has put some sheep and cattle on the moors at the back of our house. Chatting with one of the neighbours recently the new livestock came up in the conversation. “Have you seen them big heifers in yon moors?” she asked me. “Yes, I have and you’re right, they are  indeed big f***ers.”

Due to the dog’s predeliction for eating the poo of various farm animals that particular walk has become a bit of a no go zone, dammit.

It’s looking like it’s going to be a busy weekend again for Boofuls and me. I took today off from my new job as pot filler extraordinaire to catch up on my own work. I seem to have wedding album work  coming out of my ears all of a sudden (not literally).  Today I’ve worked on the computer till my eyeballs bled to try and catch up.

The end result of which is that I have absolutely sod all of any interest to share with you today so: goodnight.

if ever there was….

…an evening crying out for people to be sat outside enjoying the warm sunshine, sipping wine and enjoying each others company it’s tonight.

You should see it. The weather is nicer than it’s been for weeks, the sun is slowly baking the slabs, a few little puffy fair weather cumulus clouds are drifting lazily across the sky in the almost complete absence of wind. It’s gorgeous. We’ve had guests for dinner on both Friday and Saturday this weekend and been confined to indoors  on both nights as it’s been perishing cold, as it was this morning when me and Boofuls opened up the studio to the denizens of Lancashire  for the disastrous fundraising open day planned by Scotty of the snack bar – but more about that later.  Now, when I’m all on my tod and catching up on the work I couldn’t do earlier in the week it’s gorgeous. Is there no justice?

Boofuls has taken off in a southerly direction till tomorrow night for his regular bi monthly meeting with a few boring old farts, a couple of puffed up self important, power crazed fools and a brace of dedicated and hard working people who do far more than could be reasonably asked of them  – without looking for glory or reward.  Anyway, he’s gone, I’m here, the sun’s shining and I’m fed up. Sigh.

So, the fundraiser. Dear oh dear.  Apart from the fact that it had been scheduled to start at the ludicrously early hour of 9.00 a.m. on a Sunday it turned out to have been a very last minute decision to do it and the only punters seemed to be their own family and friends. The snack bar was turned into a junk shop for the day and while they attempted to offload all of their kids knackered old clothes in the name of charity.  They’d obviously drafted in their staff for the day and not to pleased about they looked, I can tell you.

We opened up the studio as planned, Scotty of the snack bar gave us some balloons with which to festoon the frontage. That was fine except the wind kept blowing them into the wall where they promptly burst with a sound not unlike gunfire.  I dived to the ground covering my head with my arms and screaming, “get down! GET DOWN!!!” more than once. It’s just not decorous, I think I’ll give the balloons a miss next time they’re offered.

A few people came and had a look round the studio, including one chap who charmed us with his smell of urine and unwashed clothes, the drool hanging from his lips, the sweaty face and  unintelligible speech.

That was swiftly followed up by two dim looking girls of about 11 who arrived at the door.

“What’s this?”

“Go on, have a wild guess,”I prompted.

Yes, I know, I know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit but there were photographs all over the walls ffs.  Yes, I also know these may be my future clients (God help us).

“Er… forters? Is it wedding forters?

“Yes we do do wedding forters, I mean photos, among other things.”

Can I have a balloon?”

“No, bugger off.”

We did get a few people in who were genuinely interested but all in all it was a waste of a Sunday – or was it? We may get a ton of work from it and then it’ll be a different story, won’t it?

Ok, whinging over, I’m going to get on with some more work.

Weekend chores

Sitting here now at my computer I have completely run out of ideas. What can I possibly say about this weekend that is even remotely interesting or amusing?

Well, nothing. It really wasn’t that interesting a weekend.  C and her beau came up on Friday to share their good and bad news.

The bed news was that he had been finished at his temporary job.

The good news was that he’d found another job, 10 times better!! Yay!!

If only we could do the same for N who’s drifting along on temp jobs with a week here and a few days there. Poor lad just can’t seem to get himself sorted out at the moment since chef jobs are a bit thin on the ground round here while pubs and restaurants are shutting down left, right and centre.

So, Friday night I introduced the world to the concept of meat crumble for tea. “Is that the same as Friday pie?” C asked with a suspicious tone to her voice. “No, it’s a proper recipe, like apple crumble but without sugar and apples, obviously.”  C decided she wasn’t hungry and declined my offer of meat crumble. Boofuls and B though both gave it a go. Boofuls because he had no real choice, take it or leave it mate, and B because he was being polite.

I think they were both pleasantly surprised. I thought it was quite tasty.  ‘Specially with a glass of very nice shiraz. I should have read the label before drinking it though. The presence of oak in it was signalled by the almost instant change of colour in my face from a nice English peaches and cream to a vivid beetroot red after tasting it.  “Oh well, I thought, ‘the damage is done now, I might as well carry on with it.’ I had two glasses and amazingly didn’t get a full blown migraine, apart from a few stabbing pains behind my left eye I got off scot free.

Saturday was no more exciting, Once again C and B came to visit,  by pure coincidence it happened to be about tea time when they arrived (oh really?).   I’d spent half the afternoon building a set for baby E to have some photos in but she really didn’t want to oblige so that was a waste of an afternoon.  Never mind. We decided to treat ourselves to a Chinese take away,   Mmmmmmm. Boofuls had his normal sweet and sour chicken, the rest of us had a variety of items to pick at. The only thing that didn’t get devoured was the prawn crackers. What a pointless item they are, they always end up in the bin. Even the hens wouldn’t eat them.

As for yesterday we had a 98% rain free day for the first time in over  a month!!!    Woohoo!!  So how did we celebrate this almost rain free day? By catching up on the gardening, that’s how.  Between me and Boofuls we racked up a total of eleven hours gardening.  That wouldn’t be so bad if we could sit back and say it’s all done but it isn’t all done by a ling way. We could probably do the same again.

I’ve been getting a bit wobbly again at the thought of moving away from here.  As  a place to live it really doesn’t get much nice than here. However, the thought of having a  nice garden that we could get pristine in a couple of hours is quite and attractive proposition when you can’t stand upright  after hours of weeding and you’re tingling from fingertip to shoulder because of all the stings from nettles and scratches from roses.

Right, now it’s time to get on with some work. I’ll be back later when I’ve something interesting to tell you.