You may not be aware but next week (13/07/2009), all UK mobiles will be on a directory which will mean that anyone will be able to access the numbers. It is easy to unsubscribe so you may want to unsubscribe any personal mobiles or advise friends and family accordingly.

Follow this link and go to the home page, then select Ex-Directory at the top right and follow the instructions which are quite painless

Link to the BBC news story

Being an avid fan of Flanders & Swann, I dragged twig_wonderkid and Mr W to see At the Drop of a Hippopotamus at The Lowry. It was flippin' studpendous, and we had many a giggle and there was much singing along. Mr W even got to give a solo standing ovation as Tim FitzHigham did the Hippopotamus chorus in Welsh. He did it in Russian afterwards as well, but there was no-one equally qualified to check his pronunciation for that.

The following w/end, we had absolutely nothing arranged on the Saturday, so we spent most of the day in bed, rising only to eat take-away on the sofa before going straight back to bed. Live life on the edge, we do, life on the edge.

Sunday was bonkers: Church, brunch-with-chums, church, wardrobe crisis, band concert. Could've done with the Monday off to recover!

To perk ourselves up, we met rfbooth for posh spicy nosh on the Tuesday. It was most marvellous, and as posh as we had expected. We have made a pact to try new restaurants from here on in though, as there are many fine establishments that we have yet to grace with our presence, and which have yet to grace our tastebuds with their tasty offerings. Mmmm.

I have a new nephew!
Liddlest Sis is doing fine - the sprog isn't doing as well but hopefully he'll be out of the woods in a couple of days.
Hurrah!

Many things have been happening, which I have failed to blog about because I am lazy. Lazylazylazy. Or possibly just busy. BuzyBuzyBuzy. Tee hee :)

There was some tea with Unusual Guru Wilbur where we gave our usual pub a final chance after the quiche fiasco last time. The food was OK, but the service is getting increasingly random, so we're gonna try somewhere else next time. Our pub-for-special-occasions has recently changed hands and is apparently no longer good. Pants. So it's the pub with the nuclear fish pie or monster munch sandwiches in front of the TV for us in future. *sigh*

In exciting "I-have-a-new-Father-in-Law" news, Mr W's Mum tied the knot a couple of weeks ago. It's the first time we've met her fiancee's kids (all with fantastic Dutch names) so of course there had to be a dance off. The outcome was the Williams kids won, but mostly because Mr W's brother Egg was not only pole-dancing but gave a lap dance to Auntie Joan who's in her 80s. To be fair she was a wonderful flirt, egging him on (see what I did there??); and consequently they were having the banter all w/end, and she even rang afterwards to say she'd had the best w/end she could remember. Hurrah! The day after, there was an all day apres-wedding barbecue where everyone uploaded their photos onto the TV forming a very amusing background to the sausage-in-a-bun action. Consequently there are many foolish pics on Facebook showing both sets of sibs throwing a selection of shapes; and lots of pics of Mr W and I with either one or both of us pulling faces. Classy.

The following w/end, The Stepmother came up and we went off to an HRGB Rally at Grassington. We got there in time for lunch on the Friday and held court in the pub as people arrived throughout the afternoon. The hotel was a little alarming as we were presented with a mahoosive double bed. But, to our huge relief, it was only mahoosive coz it was two single beds pushed together. Phew! And we actually ended up in a suite rather than the room we'd booked due to a last minute re-organisation within the hotel. Yay! Saturday I got roped into a scratch team, given music at lunchtime and performing without rehearsal in the afternoon session; and managed to find a little time to browse around the town (I may have accidentally bought some Clay Mates without realising just how desperately sad that is!) and more importantly, Farrahs. Traditional sweet shops rule. Sunday, we all met up at a pub in Linton before heading our separate ways, and we all got lobstered by the sun during only an hour or so outside with pints. Crazy! The w/end also held a rather random selection of child-related activities for me: I ended up judging a children's talent show; and then spent the rest of the w/end with a 6yr old attached to me limpet-style, and an 11yr old also following me (or more accurately, my iPhone) about. Rather alarmingly, she has started ringing me - and I am ashamed to admit that I have "accidentally" missed all her calls as I have no idea what I'd say to an 11yr old I hardly know. An upside was actually getting to know one of the other girls there (we met last year but actually got a chance for a natter this year) so we have been doing textings since. She is a hardcore texter, but seems content to put up with my tardy and infrequent replies. Must. Do. Better.

Let me know if any of you are interested in this:

( Mates Rates )

Tee Hee :)

No I have not died, I have just been alternately busy & lazy. But it's been so long since I posted, that this could get long-winded. I shall try to keep it brief, but I fully expect to fail.
I shall attempt to pick up where I left off:

The Tuesday before I went to Cornwall I went to Johnny Roadhouse's funeral at Manchester Cathedral. Unfortunately, I missed the march in his honour the w/end before as I was away, but the photos on his site look great. His biog is jaw-dropping, but I originally met him through the shop while I was at Uni, and ended up playing in a band with him until his health deteriorated too much to play. The funeral itself was wonderful: the tributes were hysterical, the montages funny & touching, the music great (obviously) and the guy I was sat next to was a complete hoot, digging me energetically in the ribs every time sommat funny happened. I'm still bruised. He's promised to seek me out at the next gig we do in his local British Legion, but unfortunately I won't be there, so I hope he doesn't think I'm avoiding him!

The following w/end, we packed up and shipped out to Cornwall to visit the sibs, and for Mr W to find out what he's letting himself in for by joining the family! The journey down took 8hrs (gah). I decided to book a hotel rather than kipping on Middle Liddle Sis's floor as Mr W was giving up his holiday days, and this was a simply stupendous decision. The place was amazing. A manor house with only two guest rooms, and the warmest welcome (small dog included) as if we were long lost and half-starved chums that needed stuffing with local produce at every opportunity.

The first night we just met up with Middle Liddle Sis for pub grub and then had an early night.

The next day, roused early with the promise of a fry-up, I dragged Mr W to Sennen, Prussia Cove, Brane (to see Carn Euny), Drift, Marazion & Penzance. And is if that wasn't exciting enough, I took him to the cemetary will I put flowers on Mum's headstone. Managed to dye my fingers very and permanently pink in the process too. It's fading now, but it still looks like I've been diddling flamingos.

Afterwards we went 'round to Liddlest Sis' together with the rest of the world as it was her 21st. Gifts delivered, baby stuff oo'd and ah'd over, and then off out with her for more pub grub. We then transferred to another pub to meet up with Lil Bro and his fiancee - there was a band on so we had to scream our conversation into each other's faces - and then off to yet another pub to meet Farmer Charles while he was DJing for the late disco. Blimey did we see some sights. And Mr W convinced him to put sarcastic messages about them up on the big screen which they were oblivious too, but made us titter. A bad influence, that Mr W.

The next day, fortified with more meaty breakfasty goodness we went to The Minack to watch a couple of choirs from the MVC festival. The first choir were a surprise as they should've been from Africa, but were actually from Tideswell as customs wouldn't let the African choir into the country. The second choir, Sverdlovsk MVC, were absolutely astounding. Russian, so I couldn't understand a word, but A. Stound. Ing. And against such an awe-inspiring back-drop, it made my burned forehead worthwhile. I needs to hunt me down some recordings of them.

Afterwards, we went down to Lamorna cove for cream teas (yum) and Burt's crisps with Liddlest Sis, and then all of us sibs and partners met up at the meadery for a mahoosive meal with lashings and lashings of mead. Well, it'd've been rude not to.

Our last day in Cornwall, we went up St Michael's Mount which is shrouded in scaffolding as part of the 10yr restoration project; and, being a complete child, I bought a gigantic pen and pencil in the shop which now live proudly on the telephone table and stab me in the leg every time I walk past. Happy times. We then grabbed fish n chips in St Erth and headed over to Lil Bro's with the rest of the sibs to say our farewells.

We then headed up to Devon to stay with The Stepmother. Big Bro came over for dinner, so much hilarity ensued. Tuesday, after freshly baked croissants (how do the flakes get so...everywhere??) us ladies headed out to do bits and bobs in Newton Abbot and left Mr W to have a bit of peace and quiet. A huge evening meal with lots of wine and putting the world to rights ended the day; and after a short trip to Luders for cheese straws in the morning, we headed back to Mcr in time for Mr W's singing lesson.

Being back at work was a bit of a shock, but we soothed ourselves at The Lowry seeing An Inspector Calls which I read at school but have never seen. Marvellous.

The following Saturday, we headed down to Wales for a 60th birthday party. There was hardly anyone there that we knew apart from the birthday girl when we arrived (and blimey, I hope I look that good when I'm 60... in fact I wish I looked that good now!) but soon loads of people I hadn't seen for ages came in, so we were able to get with the drinking and the gossipping. Hurrah!

Sunday, apres-Jesus, we managed to get tickets for X-Men Origins: Wolverine (although all I could think about was Weebl and Bob's X-Men Oranges: Tangerine which gave me inappropriate giggles at dramatic moments) and Star Trek which I could happily have watched again immediately. So shiny!

Last night (and this is the last exciting thing I'm going to convey) we grasped rfbooth firmly by the ponytail and force-fed him spicy nosh in honour of his birthday. See how selfless a chum I am??

Holiday bookage (in case you were wondering, but probably weren't): Michael Palin's Hemingway Adventure, Gerald Durrell's Drunken Forest and Arthur C Clarke's Time's Eye.

Now I must go eat sommat garlicky before band camp. They expect it of me you know, the reeking.

For anyone that doesn't read warren_ellis, I couldn't risk you missing this!

Cor, weddings are coming thick and fast at the moment!

Thursday night, instead of packing, Mr W and I went for a meal at our favourite Thai place. I had won a Reward & Recognition prize at work, which was a £50 meal for two. We managed to spend a whole lot more, as we always do, but were comforted by the knowledge that work will be picking up half of the tab!

Saturday morning, I collected Unusual Guru Wilbur from the station and headed down to Whitchurch for his friend's wedding. I, in my capacity as ceremonial bird, actually broke out a dress for the occasion. It gave me great pleasure when asked how I knew the happy couple to reply, "I don't!"

It was a great do - I've never been to a civil ceremony before, but it was in such beautiful surroundings that I coped :) I also knew some of the other guests from my days and Cable & Wireless, so it was a great opportunity to catch up whilst stuffing my maw with buffet items and boogying to the greatest hits from the 80s.

Drove back yesterday lunchtime, and started pottering about as is my wont on a Sunday. After making the bed, I thought it looked so inviting (having not slept at all the night before) that I curled up with a DVD... and woke up 6hrs later having completely missed evensong. Gah.

Again, being back at work is a bit of shock, but I've only got a 4 day week this week before heading down to Cornwall for my sister's birthday, so that thought should keep me going!

My Dad sent me this - google tells me it's a poem by Adrian Mitchell from 2001, and it amused me:

( Watch your Step - I'm Drenched )

Lovely, lovely w/end had - I could just do with a holiday to recover!

Drove to Newport on Friday for a wedding reception. The M6 was atrocious, so we arrived at the hotel later than planned, and were forced to have a v expensive BK halfway lest we expire en route. There was much foolish dancing and larking about in the evening, and a buffet that disappeared so quickly it beggared belief. Luckily we sent out an envoy for things-on-sticks early on in the proceedings or we would've wasted away in the corner.

Saturday, we met everyone for a family breakfast and natter (and what a marvellous repast it was), and then drove over to Cardiff. We dropped in on some friends for a quick cuppa, but we should've known better, for we ended up spending over 4hrs with them! The weather was cool but lovely, so we spent some of it sat in their garden, and some of it in the local beer garden. Mr W and I got a sunburned elbow apiece and I got a glowing nose to match! We made it to the hotel in time to turn around a go back out again. We'd booked a table in our favourite restaurant, and were joined by 3 chums for munchings. We met up with another 2 afterwards in a nearby bar, and boggled at the sights paraded before us: we saw a group of air hostesses; a group of Harry Hills; a group of pirates; a group of girls in tutus (more Mavis the fat fairy than Darcy Bustle); a group of men in inexplicable wigs; and an astonishing array of body parts on display. Quite a lot of which shouldn't have been. Wow.

We had to shout quite loud over the music, which lead to a misheard conversation about the naming of genitalia, which caused my minge to be christened "Eric Cuntona". Inspired!

Sunday, we grabbed a Total Full On in Cafe Calcio and headed up to Gloucestershire to watch my nephew play rugby, and to collect The Stepmother. We got back home just in time for a swift meal before heading out to our Swing into Spring concert. As usual, boiling and with shocking bar service, but great fun.

Monday we packed a picnic and spent the day at Lyme Park. Most civilised. Fed the ducks, wandered round the house, had tea and cake in the cafe and ate in the woods overlooking the lake.

Got back in time for my singing lesson which went well: I've lost the mysterious harmonics which I'd picked up on Top G, so I was able to finish the Handel piece that had caused it, and have moved on to a very interesting piece by Michael Head. Normally I'm OK with the notes as I can sight-sing, and it's the technical aspects which I have to work on. But this one's all over the place (and the accompaniment's no help at all), so I think it's going to take some beating. *rubs hands together gleefully*

Yesterday, I fully intended to come back into work after dropping The Stepmother off at the station, but I completely failed to do so. Staying at home and doing lots of chores while watching hours of mindless TV seemed to be the way forward. Got loads done without feeling like I'd been rushing about. We both had an evening in as well, so was able to stuff myself with Mr W's cuisine (that is not a euphamism) and put my feet up.

Coming back into work today has been a bit of a shock to the system though! Surprisingly I've had quite a productive day, which is a little disturbing: I can only assume that my subconscious has been busy working while my conscious has been busy wishing I was back in bed. Hurrah!

Blimey, Easter's a bit bonkers, music-wise.

The Bank Holiday w/end was mostly taken up with singing and gardening, as the weather was so nice. We finally managed (I've been talking about it since this time last year) to move the triffids from the front garden into the back where they're less likely to savage passers-by, and plant some innocuous pansies and whatnot. One of them was described as "Hurrah Pink" which tickled me :) Mr W, with his shiny new spade, manfully dug up some peristent reeds and I weeded the patio and the front path, so it's looking a lot better for the impending Stepmotherly visit.

The freezer also decided this would be the perfect time to pack up, and as the call-out fee + parts was only slightly cheaper than buying a new one, we did just that. Meant I got a trip to the tip too, which is one of my favourite things to do. One of advantages of having an estate is being able to do the exportation of the old one and the importation of the new one ourselves. Go us!

On Sunday, I went to a BBQ at twig_wonderkid's together with KatnDan, The Denis & his new laydee, and his lodger and her family. The food was plentiful and varied, there was hot soup to drink as although the weather was good it was a little nippy around the edges, and the conversation was long, loud, and mostly foolish. Hurrah!

Last night, Unusual Guru Wilbur and I went for our monthly dinner extravaganza which had been slightly delayed by Pesky Easter. Unfortunately it was a bit of a farce. You'd best sit down, dear flist, for it is a shocking tale.
We both ordered the dishes of our desire.
A few minutes later, the waitress popped back out to say that for my order, they didn't have enough prawns to make a whole portion, so would I mind if they augmented it with scampi? Being partial to deep-fried seabeasts, I didn't mind at all.
About 15mins later, my dinner arrived, together with assurances that his was on the way.
5mins later, she popped back out to confess that his "veggie" lasagne was suffering from an acute case of the beefs, and that they actually didn't have any lasagne that wasn't of a meaty persuasion. So he ordered a prawn madras instead.
5mins later, she popped back out to break the news that they'd run out of madras, and the only veggie thing they had left was cheese quiche. She offered to put mine back in the oven so that we could eat together, but as I was half-way through munching at this point, I declined.
15mins later (how long does it take to cut a slice of quiche?) and long after I'd finished eating, a small, limp looking piece of quiche arrived with lukewarm chippies (that were cooked to accompany the original lasagne order) and veg that he didn't order and didn't want. FFS.
Normally they're great in there, so I think we must've caught them on the hop. However, we did sneakily rename the Specials Board to the "Here's what you could've had if you'd come in Yesterday" Board. Humph.

Apart from this, I've mostly been doing housework to get the house into some semblance of order for the familial visit. I've also managed to dye my hair without dying me from the waist up and the bathroom from the waist down; and dye (seperately) a cream outfit-that-I-thought-I-would-wear-but-never-have-because-it's-cream black.

What with all this activity, there's only been a small amount of bookage: I finished Gerald Durrell's The Whispering Land, and have transferred my bookmark to Michael Palin's Hemingway Adventure.

Right, need to finish up here, buy a new doorbell (it's taken a leaf out of the freezer's book) and then pack for Cardiff. Busybusybusy!

Last night I went to see my chum Josh Johnston playing to a full house Knutsford. He was with a violinist and a double-bassist, and it was really rather marvellous. I'd forgotten just how entertaining his "stories" are too - he had the audience in fits! It's the first time I've seen him since we all left uni, so it was lovely to catch a couple of mins with him for a chat. He's made me promise to look him up next time we're in Ireland (and I've checked that his Dad's no longer making the homebrew so my liver's safe), so that we shall do.

And this is most strange.

As is this.

Last Thursday, Unusual Guru Wilbur and I went on one of our adventuring days. (we pick somewhere up to an hour's train journey away, arm ourselves with froffee coffees and bagels and go for a nosey 'round their sights and bookshops with frequent stops for tea & buns.) We ended up in Lancaster, which was mostly shut, but we did find one museum open which was fascinating, found a fantastic pub for lunch, and rummaged around the market, bookshops and an olde worlde sweete shoppe. The weather was glorious too, which always makes this sort of thing more fun. Hurrah!

Afterwards, I took a bag of torn crotches to the menders (why do I always burst my crotch seams? My curtain rings must create one hell of a lot of friction); and then headed off to a selection of baby-stuff emporia (emporiums?) and loaded up the car with things for my impending nephew. It wasn't as taxing as I was expecting, although I got a bit carried away with socks. Newborn socks are impossibly cute.

Saturday was an Official Lazy Day^TM, so we met up with twig_wonderkid and a few others in Waterstones for elevenses, then meandered across town taking in one of the many space invaders scattered around the city (we're gonna do a proper hunt for them next time), for lunch. Afterwards, we meandered even more lazily around a couple of shops (where I managed to get another rubber duck for my collection - it's becoming increasing difficult to find room for bathing, so many are they) and then headed home for a take-it-away and pre-recorded TV.

Yesterday, being Palm Sunday, was mostly taken up with Jesus, but in between, Mr W and I fitted the first of the heat-reflecting fins to the radiator in the conservatory. It's the biggest, so therefore all the rest should involve much less faffing. The cats were most helpful.

I also collected the bassoon (he's done a wonderful job) and have started practising of an evening. There's something of the flatulent duck about it (I'm hoping that it doesn't resemble a mating call, else we could be up to our ears in amorous drakes), but the most worrying thing is that I'm persistently a semitone flat. I know I haven't played for 17yrs, and in that time I'm pretty sure it hasn't grown an inch, so it must be my embouchure. I guess I'm just gonna have to keep at it. Infuritating!

Friday night at choir practice, there was yet another boiler drama. I dug out the faithful gas tester, and watched it go mental before I even got anywhere near the boiler room. My guess is that the bad weather has caused something to be blown into the flue restricting the oxygen intake, but I could also be making that up. It also badly stung my eyes, and they're still sore now. It caused some raised eyebrows tho: the vicar collaring me mid-sing, me rushing out, and creeping back in 10mins later with tears streaming down my face! Tee hee!

Saturday, we took advantage of the clement weather (which promptly took advantage of us and became most inclement) and visited Quarry Bank Mill. We started off in the Apprentice House where we were showed around by a costumed guide who was tres amusant; and then spent the rest of the day in the mill. I have never seen/heard such machinery! The water wheel and the mill races were fascinating too and completely mahoosive. Unbelievable when you consider when it was made! Needless to say, we're saving the gardens and the walks for better weather :)

In the evening we donned our 3D specs and saw Monsters vs Aliens which was v silly indeed - even sillier than the sight of us wearing specs over our specs. There's a lot of little things coming out of the screen that caused the whole audience to flinch and then giggle.

Sunday, apres-Jesus, I met twig_wonderkid and KatnDan for lunch, and then Mr W and I really got our money's worth out of our cinema cards and saw Lesbian Vampire Killers. V gratuitous and v silly indeed: right on my level.

Bookage: finished Belle de Jour's The Further Adventures of a London Call Girl and started Aravind Adiga's The White Tiger.

I've also heard that my bassoon's ready, so I've just got to find time to go pick it up (he said he'd stay open for me to pop over after work one night which is sweet). I can't wait to get it back and try out all the new doodads I've bought for it. Squeee! Just got to remember how to play it before May 10th. No pressure.

Since the w/end I have been mostly working, but there have been a few extra-curricular activities sneaking their way in:

Good singing lesson on Monday night (not practising as often as I should, I often feel as if I'm not living up to her expectations) but apart from still getting bizarre harmonics on a top G (it feels like a hive of bees have taken up residence in my skull) it was most uplifting.

Tuesday, Mr W and I made an enforced trip to the Trafford Centre to take advantage of a special offer; but we cheered ourselves up with the promise of nosh. We had tapas for a change (which is good for his diet) and were able to take full advantage of their all-you-can-eat-for-a-tenner offer. We cynically assumed that the range of dishes covered by the offer would be small, and the portions smaller, but we were proved wrong on both counts. And there was a fantastic guitarist widdling away in a Spanish styley so we shamelessly hummed along with our mouths full. Hurrah!

At work, I was informed that I'd won a competition I don't remember entering for a Moleskine notebook. It is of absolutely no use to me, but Unusual Guru Wilbur gets through them at an almighty rate with his many and various jottings, so I shall slide it his way.

Last night was band camp, mostly sight-reading new stuff for the big concert in April. After work, I always feel far too knackered to go, but as usual, having made the effort to stir my stumps it was worth it. Much silliness was involved.

Tonight, I'm actually having a night in. Mr W will be doing interesting things with pork, so I shall be keeping out of his way lest I interfere with his mission to use every pot and utensil in the place. I think slumping upon the sofa with a combination of laptop, book, puzzles, TV and cats should get me out from under his feet. Some sort of leisurewear will definitely be required. I take slobbage very seriously, you know.

I spent Saturday in Huddersfield with Unusual Guru Wilbur and The Sphericals. We browsed many a bookshop and stopped for tea every hour or so; yet by the time I got home I was completely shattered. Why is relaxing so tiring??

Yesterday after Jesus, I worked my poor fingers to the bone, doing shopping and chores 'n' wotnot. My piece de resistance was having a massive sort out of bras for chariddy (Yorkshire Air Ambulance are recycling over-shoulder boulder holders as part of their Bag it Up campaign). I can't believe how many I've kept hold of that can't have fitted me for years due to my increasingly over-sized norks. So now I feel most virtuous!

My laptop did sommat odd in the middle of me typing the above paragraph, so I've had to complete it at work. Suddenly, a selection of keys on the right hand side of the keyboard no longer produced the desired characters when pressed. Apparently I've pressed some command buttons somewhere along the line and transferred the number pad onto the qwerty pad. Muppet.