Friday, 26 December 2014

Boxing Day

I have just returned from visiting my parents as they live approximately seven minutes and twenty-five seconds away from my flat (located above the cafe* as you're undoubtedly aware.)  I always find socialising mentally and physically taxing and as my elderly Great Aunt Dorothy turned up in the Age Concern Minibus today, I felt doubly awful.  Don't get me wrong, Aunt Dorothy was an amazing woman back in the day, but she's now a shadow of her former self, preferring to spend her entire time moaning about how the series of carers are stealing off of her and so on.  I did state that she was very lucky to receive such support, but she immediately turned her hearing aid down to avoid conflict.  Father got very stressed too and before I left I spied him writhing around the garden once more in his human earthworm costume - here's hoping that the concrete layer located one metre from the surface will curtail his burrowing instincts.

Mother and Father mentioned on more than one occasion today that it would be a nice idea for me to return home and 'give up that expensive gravy-scented flat'.  I answered that I really appreciated my independence, but they both sighed, looked sad and said no more about it.  I'm a renter, it's true and the additional £825 (plus bills) per calendar month would come in handy to build my savings back up to their 2010 heyday, but I've changed over the past couple of years and don't think that I could cope with my Father's strange habits and Mother's disapproving glances.

I went to the Co-op later on; my favourite shop assistant wasn't there.  More's the pity.

Thursday, 18 December 2014

Pre-Christmas Drinks

Tonight I attended a drinks party at one of my parents' neighbours.  It's strange being back in my old road again - nothing's really changed and the same old resentments seem to be there - well, if by that I mean that there was a lot of muttering about how much disruption the building of my parents' house caused, but of course, it was never said out loud, this being suburbia and all.  The following gossip/conversation topics were raised:

* The vagrant who used to live in the local church is now on the run from the law (last sighting: Dover)
* The pair of shoes which were sitting outside a suspected drug dealer's property have now been disposed of by the dustcart
* Mr Windrush has finally forgiven me for demolishing his front garden wall, which occured during my first, and indeed only, driving lesson taken by Father
* The fire at the local comprehensive was started by disenchanted Year Eights after they lost the Borough Tiddlywinks Competition
* The local baker has now been released from prison after serving a sentence for dipping more than a wooden spoon in his dough

...and so on.  I'm not a natural party goer or conversationalist, let me tell you.  
 

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

The Only Living Woman In New Suburbia

Today heralds the first day of my Christmas leave (hurrah!)  In a bizarre twist of fate, my parents have got back together as Father was released from the Earthworm Sanctuary last year after a series of incidents which led to him tunneling into the nearby industrial estate and disturbing an illegal money laundering operation.  The family house (do you remember back to how Father had caused it to subside due to his excessive burrowing?) - well, it's finally been demolished, the foundations filled with concrete and re-built in a similar style to the rest of the road.  Mother left her fancy man in Spain as she found the heat 'excessive, cloying and quite frankly, awful' and re-joined Father.  It's not a happy union though - they sleep in separate rooms and place a divider on the dining table to enable them to eat in (relative) peace.

I'm off to buy some Christmas presents after lunch.  I've asked Cousin Eleanor and Emma to circle things in the Boots Christmas Catalogue and I'm hoping to take advantage of their '3 for 2' offer.  I have purchased my parents matching acrylic jumpers with a festive teddy bear design on the front - hopefully it will bring them closer together?

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Work Christmas Lunch

I am on leave today because I knew that if I drank more than three units of alcohol yesterday then I'd be incapable of leaving the bed before 8:11am, let alone do a whole day's work.  Anyway, I digress (as usual!) - you'll undoubtedly want to know about yesterday's work Christmas lunch, won't you?  Well, we went early, Monday, 8th December to be exact and our sitting was at 11:30am - 'why so early?' you may enquire - it was very cheap and I arranged it myself, thus saving every diner the princely sum of £10, which is no mean feat in these financially challenged times.

I arrived at the restaurant, which was located thirteen minutes' walk away from the office and called 'Mon Cherie Amour', probably after the great Stevie Wonder's chart hit.  That said, apart from a solitary harmonica encased in a perspex box affixed to the wall, there was no other memorabilia of the former Motown legend, well I suppose there are two if you count them using that particular track as the hold music on their telephone system.  The tablecloths were red and faded and none of the chairs matched - their only concession to the festive season was a balding, undecorated tree sitting sadly in the corner and various sprigs of mistletoe hung above every table.  A man shuffled out of the rear of the restaurant who closely resembled Herman Munster and proceeded to take the wine order which was four bottles of their cheapest vin de table.  They'd had a whip round at work last week and amassed £48.76 towards the drinks bill.

At 11:25 a solitary man and his three-legged dog came in and was shown to a corner table.  My team arrived at 11:33 and sat down at the table, which had to be steadied with a coaster advertising Benson and Hedges.  My team consists of eight people: William 'Billy' Boggis, the team leader (Grade 6) - a bluff, but kind man who enjoyed playing gin rummy and rollerblading during the summer months; Sally Tippings (Grade 7), a shy mousy woman with a huge knowledge of Neil Diamond's life and career; Cantana Mutanda (Grade 7), a friendly tecchie guy with a deep love of Dr Who; Nigel Noggin-Smythe (Faststream), a highly ambitious Oxford graduate who played the violin to concert standard; Roger Bannister, (HEO), a huge (in both senses of the word) comedy fan who laughs at absolutely everything; Catherine Hill (HEO) a rather lazy person in my opinion who'd much rather sit and read romantic novels during the lunch hour than do any work (miow!) there is also Colin Sudbury-Majors, but he doesn't really attend social events.

There were a few complaints about the colour of the prawn cocktail and that the pate looked as though a cat had vomited it out three minutes prior to plating, but generally the fact that all of my brussels sprouts pinged across the table at Nigel were somewhat overlooked.  I some ways I envied Sally who was sat opposite the spare place, I thought I noticed her checking her phone at various intervals, but I could have been wrong.  Roger, who was seated on my left was boring me senseless with his continual comedy quotes and allegedly amusing anecdotes.  Nigel was conversing with Billy about his Stradivarius and how he had to wrest it from another musician's grasp during a pre-concert warm up at the Royal Albert Hall last year.  Generally, the whole thing was boring until Sally suddenly flipped, grabbed two half-empty bottles from the table and fled from the restaurant.  Oh dear.










Saturday, 8 November 2014

Some People May Feel That I'm Boring

It's a strange thought, but this past week spent on annual leave have really hit home that the life I lead is a rather boring one to say the least.  I wish to goodness that I didn't have to plan things quite so comprehensively, but I do and there's very little I can do about it. 

On the plus side, I was in the Co-op earlier (utilising my 'spend £7 and save £1 coupon) where I saw Barry, the shop assistant I mentioned a couple of weeks ago.  Anyway, he enquired why I hadn't attended the 'Fundraising Funday' and when I replied that I'd suddenly developed an aversion to having stickers placed directly onto my torso he was sympathetic, stating that he'd been unable to look a charity cup cake in the face after he'd choked on a mini red nose during Comic Relief 2011.  Anyway, the upshot is that he's asked me out for lunch on Monday, which is his day off and readers, I accepted.  Oh my sainted Aunt, what on earth have I let myself in for? 

Sunday, 2 November 2014

'Stinky' Great Uncle Syd

I know that you're supposed to respect your elders, but it's really difficult at times, I can tell you.  Take for example, my Great Uncle Syd - I mean, he's a respected man in the South London Scrabble League, but otherwise he's obtuse, irritating and worst of all, tight as a gnat's chuff.  He turned up at 10:33am this morning clutching a large bag of his washing, a half-empty bottle of Woodpecker Cider and a tatty old tea towel with 'Come To Skegness: It's Bracing' emblazoned on it.  Lovely.  He is currently relaxing against my velour cushions on the sofa and has left the toilet seat up twice.  Yuck.

He departs in two hours and five minutes: wish me luck.  I wish he wouldn't bring VHS copies of Up The Elephant And Round The Castle to my house - I really detest Jim Davison and his oevre. 

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Planning For A Fortnight's Leave

I am currently undertaking the above and it's a veritable nightmare, let me tell you.  The truth is that I have too much annual leave and need to take it before I lose it, so I'll have to spend it in and around London and this suburb because I've got very little money at the moment.  Why don't you venture abroad you might say?  Well readers, the truth of the matter is that my passport expired in 2006 and I've never got around to renewing it.  Yes, I'm boring, but I really cannot help it, it's inherent within me.

OK, here's my plans so far, for the first week at least:

Saturday, 1st November - 10am - Jam Survey (shopping centre: £7); 16:30 - Emma's visit
Sunday, 2nd November - 11am - 'Stinky' Uncle Syd visits from his care home; *must defrost beef mince the previous day in the refrigerator*
Monday, 3rd November - 9am - walk to large Sainsbury's (1 hour journey) to purchase a new velour leisure suit
Tuesday, 4th November - 10am - take Mrs TiddyWinkles, my aged hamster for her MOT at the Vet's; 14:00 buy more ham for me and some alfalfa for Mrs TW (assuming she survives the journey)
Wednesday, 5th November - 9:31 train to London (to take advantage of the first off peak train service) museum, packed lunch, some light shopping then home
Thursday, 6th November - 10:32am - renew and refresh library book collection; peruse the council museum of asphalt, make a batch of scone; 17:02-19:05 watch film
Friday, 7th November - 9:34am - visit Mother armed with yesterday evening's batch of scones; 18:04 remove spider webs from my bathroom; put pedestal mat and bath rug in the wash.

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

The Chilled Cabinet, The Shop Assistant and Me

Returning from work early today enabled me to catch the train which departs London prior to the 15:59 off peak to peak Oyster Card cut off.  Call me sad if you will, but I personally believe that the £1.80 saving incurred will allow me to add extra spice to my 'pleasure budget'.  As normal on Tuesday evenings I stepped into the Co-op foodstore near the station to pick up some provisions for dinner.  I was perusing the chilled cabinet to determine whether I could haggle the price down on a Ginster's Steak Slice when a voice behind me enquired whether I had taken full advantage of the 'buy two sausage rolls and receive a pack of liver sausage for half-price offer' - I looked around and saw a gentleman of aged about forty-three wearing a Co-op uniform at least two sizes too small for him and trying to pull in his huge beer gut.  He did, though, have a very kind face and deep brown eyes and I found myself smiling back at him. 

He explained that his name was Barry and he'd been working for the Co-op ever since he'd left school at the age of sixteen after he'd set fire to the chemistry lab's fume cupboard and was downgraded from a B to a G grade in GCSE as a result.  He'd hankered after working his way up in retail, first of all, a move to Asda, then Sainsbury's and finally, M&S, but he'd been unlucky so far in every interview he'd attended - firstly a rampaging sheep had caused him to trip and break his ankle prior to his Asda interview and after that he'd tried several times more, all with little success. 

This little reverie was soon broken when Barry was told via the public address system (not a Tannoy: that's a brand name!) to go to the tills, but he did find the time to ask me whether I was planning to attend Saturday's Fundraising Funday - as I had nothing better to do other than remove dust from the rear of my bedside table, I agreed.  It should be fun. 

Saturday, 11 October 2014

Electronic Epistles

My oh my, my email inbox has just gone crazy.  To provide a flavour of what's been happening, I've cut and paste some of them below.  I would like to say that I have received four separate penis pictures: one rather closely resembled Gonzo's nose - I kid you not?  I've deleted those replies straight away.  These were the best of the bunch, worst luck. 

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Hello darlin' - im free, im funky - come and get down with me at the library disco.  My number is 07xxx xxxxxxx.

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Dearest Margaret (may I be permitted to call you that?)  - you seem such a lively soul wrapped up in an acrylic world of fun, frolics and furballs - I just want to be you.  Please permit me to take you to dinner at Il Cantore, for apres dejeneur drinks and then propel you to the sanctity of my hotel room where I can offer you the contents of the mini bar, the sachets of UHT milk plus the use of a Corby Trouser Press.  If we indulge in full penetrative intercourse I'll remunerate you for any dry cleaning bills you incur during the process.  

Yours - DariusHoney

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'ello luv.  I'm a bloke, your a bird - do you want it?  I no that i do, big time babe.  Giz us a mail back eh?  Im a diamond geyser.  

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I have some unused vouchers for Pizza Hut: the Unlimited Ice Cream Factory Dessert's on me.  Go on - I'm a fun guy (and my underwear contains no fungi...)

Silent Saturdays (Are Us?) + Dating

Today has been a very quiet day mostly spent lying on the sofa watching TV and eating chocolate, occasionally checking my email via my new smartphone.  I have, being me, resisted owning such a thing for quite a while now, but I went out and purchased a Samsung Galaxy S4 a few weeks ago and I must admit that I'm hooked.  Embracing the 'new' technology has been beneficial in so many ways, but mostly I'm using it to look up odd facts on the internet and I'm slightly ashamed to say it, to look for suitable male company.  Yes, I admit it, since the demise of my relationship with Wilf and before him, Mr A my life has been rather bereft on that score.  Anyway, I've signed up (via an anonymous email address) to a site called IntelligentUKGentlemenAreWaitingForYourEpistle.co.uk - it costs £12.87 for ladies to join and gentlemen are charged the premium rate of £34.65 per month for unlimited use.  Anyway here's the rudiments of my profile:

Username: CafeMargaretCluedo
Location: Suburban London
Age Bracket: 45-54
Hobbies: Fashion, Parsimony, Cat Husbandry, Filing, Dusting, Shoe Leather
Looking For: LTR, Going Dutch on Dates, Travelling Around East Anglia via a VW Campervan
Please Reply Stating Your Favourite Variety of Biscuit.

I am constantly refreshing my inbox to determine whether I have received any replies.

Friday, 10 October 2014

Friday Fun

I no longer work on Fridays because it works out cheaper in the long run (Oyster cards, packed lunches, shoe leather etc, plus tax)  It also breaks up the week somewhat and I can do my shopping in relative peace.  Take today for example: I went to BHS to exchange Mother's size 12 trousers for a size 14 blue acrylic edge-to-edge cardigan and whilst standing in Customer Services, my eyes wandered over to the rack of underpants lining the nearside wall - all available in sizes XS to XXL.  I cannot imagine what it must be like to enter into a relationship with a gentleman who wears size XXL underpants: uncomfortable I'd expect.  The grocery bill would certainly soar.

I purchased three Comfort Bras from Poundworld (that's next to Poundland and therefore offers continents more choice).  Comfort Bras are perfect for wearing at night or with one's leisure clothes around the house, but don't provide enough lift, shape and separation to sit under regular garments.  I cannot say that I really relish the other customers in Poundworld - they are very pushy and many of them wear sportswear without actually raising their heart rates.  Yuck! 

Thursday, 2 October 2014

I'm Back

Yes, it's over a year since I've written any entries to my blog - I can't really explain why, but I just didn't feel the need to put finger to keyboard as it were.  Well, it's that and the fact that I physically couldn't - I developed a severe reaction to the paper we were using for archive documents at work and as a result my hands swelled up to three times their normal size and I was unable to carry on with my daily life, let alone do anything else.  Wilf, initially was very helpful, but he's long gone now; he's now moved to the south coast and has found employment as a mobile clown, which is useful because his feet are naturally a size 13 and by purchasing his normal size for work, he's able to write them off against tax as 'an essential part of a funny man's apparel'.

Mother, having returned from abroad, suffered a stroke and now lives in a nursing home two bus rides away.  I can't say that I miss her much as her continual moaning used to get me down.  Father is still residing within the earthworm community - he wriggles around from place to place and I believe that he and his colleagues are propagating soil on the Leicestershire plains at the moment.  

I went to BHS today to buy Mother a new outfit - my word, it's depressing in there!  I managed to purchase a pair of navy blue tailored blue slacks with a half-elasticated waist, a cream top and a pink jumper.  She'll hate them of course, that's just her - ungrateful to the core.  I was amazed quite how many tank tops/sweater vests are sold in that shop and the sale rail contained a pair of 52inch waisted men's trousers - yum!  I wonder if I'll ever date a man quite that large?