World Book Night is coming!

Just time to post a quick CTST update today. I've been chosen to be one of the volunteers giving away free books on World Book Night. I shall be delivering 'Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death'.
Must dash: off to a music thing.
Have a good weekend, folks.
To be part of this blog hop, all you have to do is put your name on the linky list on Lexa's Blog, and then post every Friday about something you're grateful  for that week. 

More junk mail

I had a follow-up phone call from a representative of the company that sent me the mobility scooter bumf. Had I received it? Would I like to arrange an appointment to talk about my requirements? He seemed rather nonplussed when I told him what I'd done with his catalogue. He said he'd take me off his database - we'll see.

Meanwhile, amongst today's offerings was a flyer from some local estate agents offering me the world. They are concerned about me: 'Are you about to loose [sic] your dream home?' I'm tempted to ring them and say that should I ever have a cottage in Northumberland that I plan to release back into the wild I'll let them know. They have also used commas in place of apostrophes. Good grief.

Then and now

I can't settle until the postman has been. He brings me something most days, even if it is only junk mail, but I do enjoy the satisfying rattle, plonk of a letter being delivered. However, this morning's post has been particularly disappointing. It isn't me that has a significant birthday in a few weeks' time, but that hasn't stopped Forever Active sending me a personalised catalogue about mobility scooters. Five wheels are better than four, apparently. There was even a DVD included so I could see the latest machines in action. Er, no thanks. The whole lot is going back in an unstamped envelope.

My Mum I were thumbing through some old photo albums over the weekend, laughing at hats worn at weddings and remembering friends and relatives no longer with us. Can you imagine in years to come that people will be reminiscing over e-pics?

Anyway, it has been pointed out to me that Number One Son might not have been too chuffed to see his younger self posted on my blog on Friday (sorry, Sam), so to redress the balance, here is a photo of me as a toddler.

Celebrations of various sizes

Something very strange happened to my 'viewing figures' overnight, since 300 additional people read my most recent post. Since no one left any comments and it wasn't the most remarkable thing I've ever written, I can only assume that my sudden popularity is down to a technical blip. I expect I'll be down to more normal stats tomorrow. But hey: I'll take it!

I've done quite a bit of socialising this week. I began on Monday with coffee and counselling from the 'girls' I met through the National Childbirth Trust. Since the second social event of the week was celebrating the 26th birthday of First Born Son, you can tell how long we've been friends. The birthday was marked by pizza (natch) and a DVD - Toy Story 3, can you believe; but what a great film (sob).

That's my boy!

On Wednesday, I had a four-hour coffee with a yoga friend, and spent Thursday afternoon with another yoga friend (although we were also working, since we've been putting the finishing touches to the workshop we're running next Saturday).

I've done some work, too, honestly!

Have a good weekend, folks.

To be part of this blog hop, all you have to do is put your name on the linky list on Lexa's Blog, and then post every Friday about something you're grateful  for that week.

Striding out in the mud

Just in time, this morning we stopped ourselves getting seriously miserable by setting out on a walk, despite the heavy sky, and it perked us up no end.

We went to Twywell Hills and Dales, which is a site of some 135 acres that takes its name from the abandoned quarry workings that give the place its undulating landscape. Yes, it a manmade country park, but it feels like the 'proper' countryside (at least to a townie like me).

It was extremely claggy underfoot, but at least today I managed the entire walk without falling over. Last Sunday, I went base over apex after only a few yards and had to pretend that, yes, I was fine, and, no, I hadn't landed on that prickly thing.

By the time we got back to the car we were very muddy, but the blood was moving more swiftly and our mood had lifted.

His 'n' hers boots

That's better!

Principal celebration this week is that it's been SO much better than last week. Nothing has broken down (my printer had a bit of a hissy fit mid week, but seems to have come to its senses) and I managed to find someone to take away my old washing machine free of charge.

I went to give blood yesterday, so I'm celebrating being able to do that.

Mostly, though, I'm celebrating that I have things to look forward to: a gig tonight, time with my sons, one of whom has a birthday on Tuesday, and some catch-up sessions with friends.

 
 To be part of this blog hop, all you have to do is put your name on the linky list on Lexa's Blog, and then post every Friday about something you're grateful  for that week.

A whole new meaning to 'You can do it when you B&Q it'

I hope it's true that B&Q staff have been told to expect increased sales of duct tape and chains, once Fifty Shades of Grey hits - and I means hits - the cinemas on Saturday. Requests from customers seeking help are to be treated with respect and discretion, a strokesman, sorry, spokesman has said. You have to feel sorry for any customers venturing forth to buy sturdy rope to secure something innocent to the car roof rack.

I shan't be going to see the film. I didn't read the book - but, boy, I wish I'd written it. Kerching.

(No pic to this blog - I don't have anything suitable, and didn't dare Google 'bondage images'.)

Happy to say goodbye to a very long week

To be part of this blog hop, all you have to do is put your name on the linky list on Lexa's Blog, and then post every Friday about something you're grateful  for that week. 

The washing machine has bitten the dust. A new one is being delivered tomorrow 'some time between 7am and 1pm'. So much for the Saturday morning lie-in, then. Putting on my Polyanna hat, I'm celebrating that I have a credit card for just such emergencies.

My second celebration is probably going to tempt fate, but I'm cheering (albeit with my fingers crossed) because my computer has made it to the end of the week. It had started closing down for no reason, so on the advice of several people I had its innards blasted with an air line. I also updated everything that could be updated, and scanned and rebooted until my fingers bled. Today it seems to be, if not fine, at least still breathing.

The trouble is, I know I'm going to need an entire new system soon - and where do I go for it? Given the appalling problems my husband has had with PC World I certainly shan't be going there. Any suggestions?
 
Ooh, a last-minute celebration has just crept in: there's a blackbird having a bath in a plantpot saucer on my lawn. Aw.

This is Tuesday

When I went to put the dustbin out at 7.15 last night, it was a chilly but dry evening. When I looked outside an hour later, the world was white. Commuting son was forced to have a night's emergency accommodation with us. The world is drippy today, as the snow is disappearing. Big thumbs up, by the way, to the council team for emptying the bins as usual, despite the ice rink in my road.

My main preoccupation at the moment is things breaking down. Having seen the attention lavished on my boiler recently, the washing machine has gone into a sulk and is making the most awful grawnching noise, as though it's been derailed. I fear a man will have to be called. More seriously, my computer has also started to play silly buggers, and my printer has just announced its memory is full - which is a surprise, because I didn't know it had one. I really don't have time for this.

However, I'm still basking in the comforting glow of a fabulous yoga workshop on Saturday with Andrea Kwiatkowski, and am clinging on to positivity: so here's a picture I took this morning when I went out to feed the birds.