Since the advent of Twitter, I have become increasingly pants at this LJ lark. In fact I'm being doubly pants as I use my LJ posts as a basis for writing letters to my father. It's the only way I remember what I've been up to, what books I've read, films I've seen, foolish situations I've got myself into... I can't imagine giving LJ up, although if anyone still reads what I write, it must be incredibly tedious to have to wade through a 6 month, badly written chunk of what-I-did-on-my-holidays. It's like being back at school. I must think carefully about whether to keep at it, although it would be a shame to give up sommat I (initially) put so much time into. Isn't it odd that one never gets out of the phase of going through phases??

So, since September, there was...

A Beer Festival!
We spent the evening with a Heston Bloomenthal looky-likey (it's astonishing!) who was v good company. I was also followed about by a malodorous fellow with pink foam dreads, while Mr W caught up with lots of people he hardly sees since I stole him away from Wales.

and there was...

Many a nosebag with chums.
Including risking life and limb in the hills of Yorkshire in -10 to deliver Unusual Guru Wilbur's Christmas pressies. I may be foolhardly, but you gotta give me credit for being organised!
I also met up with Farmer Charles after a hard day Scriveners-browsing in Glossop. He came armed with homemade wine, which was really lovely. I should've placed a regular order with him while I had the chance...
And I arranged to meet up with piplog which is probably only the 2nd time I've seen him since he got married! Shame on him. Still, we've actually got off our collective arses and arranged to impose our company on him in Northampton in February. Hurrah!
I'm pretty sure I fit rickbooth and twig_wonderkid in as well.

and there was...

A choral workshop with Bob Chilcott.
I've been on a couple of his workshops before, and I find them so refeshing: it's just nice to sing sommat different with different people. And there was an unexpected bonus: as it was in Macclesfield, I took the opportunity to inflict myself up magentajade while I was there. It's about time really. We spent a luvverley couple of hours catching up, and her sprog introduced himself by grasping me firmly by the norks. I like a chap who knows what he wants.

and there was...

a lot of Band Camp.
Even though I am largely pants, I do enjoy tootling about in a swing styley. I can only imagine giving it up if my arms mysteriously drop off. Or if the rest of the clarinet section becomes tired of my constant ineptitude...
While playing at Wythenshawe Hospital's open day, I bought a large amount of pickled garlic from their farmers' market. It was expensive and it reeked, but it was fabulous and lastet me absolutely ages. Nom nom nom.
We also had our almost-annual Festival of Remembrance in the newly refurbished Stockport Plaza. Amongst our guests were the Pipes and Drums of the Scots Guards. V v loud (especially when I got a squeezebag shoved in my ear) but spine-chingling stuff. The Stepmother came up to stay for it (after having just had a heart attack, so 10/10 for dedication - Mr W flew back from Paris to come, but he only gets 9/10 as he wasn't a death's door). All my carefully laid plans for entertainment were shat upon by the weather, so we spent a relatively relaxing time just pootling about, with frequent stops for tea and sticky buns. For medicinal purposes of course.

and there was...

Filmage.
As usual, we haven't seen half the things we wanted to, as quite often when we had spare time, there weren't many things on that we fancied. But when we were busy, many good things came and went. *sigh* Never mind, Mr W has strict instructions to add them to his DVD rental list instead. I will commit to providing popcorn and pic n mix for our faces, squares of slightly sticky carpet for our feet, and recordings of other people being irritating, to enhance our viewing pleasure.
But we did manage to see Devil (obvious, but good), Resident Evil: Afterlife (shiny shiny shit), Believe (great - esp with the live Q&A feed from That London), Despicable Me (I nearly died at the "IT'S SO FLUFFY!!!" stage), and of course Harry Potter and the Wossnames of Oojamiflips. I think the waiting until the summer for the second part could cause me to rupture sommat vital.

and there was...

Bookage
Although my reading has suffered since I fell prey to the charms of Angry Birds and Trucks and Skulls. Who knew that slinging a selection of things at a selection of other things could be so satisfying???
But I did read Thomas Harris' Hannibal Rising (OK), Anne Rice's Blackwood Farm (cheesey), Dean Koontz's Breathless (great), Andrew Hassall's Snakebreath (which I bought on the strength of what it felt like: heavy for a paperback, good quality paper, bad idea); Alan Garner's Strandloper (I don't think I enjoy his adult books as much as I remember enjoying his kiddie books); Tom Holt's May Contain Traces of Magic (great); Nicholson Baker's Fermata (most odd); Chrisopher Moore's Lamb: the Gospel according t Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal (hysterical and v v clever); and the Bluntman and Chronic graphic novel (shiny).

and there was...

Hull.
Or more accurately, a trip to Hessle which is just outside it.
I have a chum who lives there and her band (the East Riding of Yorkshire brass band) had a concert in aid of the RNLI. I didn't realise she had 9 guests staying that weekend, so it was chaos! However, all us guests got on really well (fuelled by trips to the pub and late night, drunken poker), and the concert itself was fantastic. Amazing sound, imaginative arrangements. Crackin'. And it was great to catch up with Em The Monkee, meet her new fella, her family, and do a bit of sightseeing to boot. We've all arranged to go back in Feb (for the panto this time) for more of the same!

and there was...

Tilly.
One of the basses in the choir is... a Public Speaker I suppose. He's so gifted that he could do a talk about taking the bins out and it would be fascinating. He always manages to make you learn stuff without you realising. Which is quite an achievement with my increasingly addled brain! This talk was about a specific type of boat building, the history thereof, and a photographic record of one of the actual boats (Tilly) being built. My description doesn't do it any justice at all, so you must take my word for it that it was fascinating. So there.

and there was...

a new Fettler!
My previous fettler has retired, so her replacement came 'round to introduce herself. She started off by unintentionally insulting Mr W (which always earns brownie points with me), and then she was lovely and bubbly and obviously potty about mogs, which helps in that line of work, I would imagine.
My mogs are a bit stand-offish, and they like not the intrustions of strange folks into their territory. However, I accidentally shut 'Dozer into the box room as we left (she's stealthy for a fat lass) so the Fettler's dynamic resuce of her had both mogs loving her from moment #1. Hurrah!


and there was...

Stratford.
Mr W had arranged for us to join the thesping throngs to see Roald Dahl's Mathilda for which Tim Minchin had written the score. It was absolutely gobsmacking. The hotel we were staying in was very fancy, beautiful and OLD - in fact the whole town was so pretty, with the oldest buildings appearing to stay up by willpower alone. We did some touristy stuff, some shopping, some general wandering about, some drinkings of brown beer, and hit the jackpot with a cafe that did Baileys Hot Chocolate. Mmmmmm.

and then there was...

nowt.
That's it.

Further ramblings of a summery nature:

Weddings: we had 3 weddings in 2wks, which was fun. We started off with a Mr W's work colleague in beautiful Port Meirion. I wore 8" heels, which isn't normally a problem, but I don't normally share 5 bottles of wine with Mr W while wearing them, so I fell over. A lot. The next day, my ankle was black and the size of a hippo; Mr W was reminding all his bosses what a state I was in (why couldn't he have let them forget??); and a guy who attempted to catch me was in hospital having his brain operated on. I've been assured this wasn't directly linked.

The next wedding was Mr W's cousin: in Manchester this time so we didn't have far to go, and The In-Laws came to stay with us. I've never been in the Town Hall before but it is completely gobsmacking. Had to walk from there to the reception (which my ankle didn't much like, but I was only wearing 4" heels this time so I don't know why it was complaining) and then sit through almost 12hrs of speeches. Blimey. One of the Best Men was from Hollyoaks though, which was obviously of no interest to me as I don't watch Hollyoaks. I'd just heard about it. With my eyes. It was great to catch up with Mr W's family again (whom I mostly only see at weddings) and get stuck into the Pick n Mix. All weddings should have Pick n Mix. Most definitely.

The 3rd wedding was my cousin's, so Mr W got to meet my family en masse, which is a scary, scary thing to do. He survived, bless 'im, and with favourable feedback. Hurrah! All the sibs came up from Cornwall, including my niece who was then only 5wks old. Crazy. I don't know how Lil Sis copes with all this gadding about, but nothing seems to phase her - and the bride and groom made special mention of it and got her a cuddly toy. Yay!

Gigage: We went to see The Lancashire Hotpots, who were simply marvellous; and their support band, The Re-Entrants were simply marvellous too. Full-on rawk, with all the inherent rawk posturing, but with ukeleles. Fab!

Munch: Dr Rick took us to a steakhouse in Euxton (I was v impressed that my chips came in a paper cone); in return we took him to a modern Italian in Sale (which we have recently fallen in gluttony with); I had a couple of trips to Golcar for tea with Unusual Guru Wilbur; we went to our favourite Thai place for our anniversary; we had pub grub and many a brown beer in town with my work chums; and we had dinner with the Chaplain of St Asaph Cathedral which was a wonderful evening. She's a proper human being and everything!

Hols: Mr W took me to Budapest for my birthday. It's a simply wonderful city. All the buildings are gob-smackingly mahoosive, and the history is fascinating. We took a cruise on the Danube, mooched around St Margaret's Island, went on The Funicular (down rather than up which was ill thought-out); and discovered Funnel Cake. Nom nom nom. Got foolishly burned by the weather too; and confused the room service people in our hotel by asking for bottled water. It finally arrived with a hastily scribbled note saying how complicated it had been to find, and please not to be asking for it again. Yay!

Filmage:
I'm not sure that I've remembered all the films we've seen over the last couple of months (I know we didn't get to see all we wanted to *sulk*) but off the top of my head: Shrek Forever After, Inception, Toy Story 3, Predators, The A-Team, Salt & Piranha 3D which was v silly indeed.

In other news, I went to the dentist and had the boiler serviced (not a euphemsim) - on the same day, but thankfully not at the same time.
That would be foolish.

I have been up to so many things that I cannot possibly post about them all at once. So I shan't. I shall post about them in many shorter and more tedious chunks. Yay!

Schnozz: Had the operation - will find out in Sept whether it did what it was supposed to do, but my singing teacher is already happy with the results, so that's a good thing.

Having 2wks working from home in solitary confinement was...interesting... As usual, I overcompensated by working much longer hours than I should've just to prove that I was actually working; and I didn't realise how hard it is to work on network drawings from a laptop screen. VM haz been spoiling uz wiz our big monitors!

No choir and no singing and no band was a bit of a shock (my diary has never been so empty), but it was actually nice to have a break.

Singing:. Cor Dyffryn had a beautiful concert in a gardens with a river running across the bottom. We crossed over and hiked up a hill and sang at the audience across the torrent. It was beautiful, but went all sorts of wrong in all sorts of places. No-one seemed to mind though, so that's OK.

I had a solo slot in the Choir Concert (last solo item of the night, so I had a couple of hours of sheer terror to get through beforehand) and had lots of lovely feedback, which is great. I'd hate to show the choir up by sounding like a strangled cat!

I also sang with Mousehole Male Voice Choir (not because they thought I had a male voice, but because they like to have a soloist in between sets). It was a beautiful setting on the harbourside with the audience perched on the walls. I'd never sung outside before as a soloist, and never with a microphone, but it seemed to go OK. Again, I've had some lovely feedback from their conductor, and from various audience members on the day. Although the piece de resistance was a small child proclaiming very stridently, "Cor, she's a bit loud i'nt she?!"

The accompanist was wonderful, but we got to know each other under rather strange circumstances. The MVC conductor had arranged for us to meet him in Penzance, then he would drive us into the back of beyond where she lived for a rehearsal, a quick stroll up the hill to take in the scenery, followed by dinner back at his house and then drinks with Mr I've-Got-a-Big-Organ.

We rehearsed very quickly, then strolled up the hill to take in the scenery. The path was rather boggy due to the recent rains, so Mrs Accompanist knew an alternative route back which was longer, but potentially dryer.

The route back was like a swamp and took us about 4hrs.

None of us were dressed for the terrain: we ended up tramping through gorse to try and avoid the path, so our legs were scratched pretty much down to the bone by the end, we had soggy feet and sore ankles, and Mrs Accompanist went flying and nearly caved her skull in on some inconveniently placed granite.

When we got back, Mrs Accompanist had prepared a cream tea (which we ate in exhausted silence) and by the time we got back to Pz, the dinner had been ready for a couple of hours, so we stuffed it down even though we weren't hungry, and then managed one pint before we all went to bed. What a shambles! It's much funnier now in hindsight that it was on the day!!

BandCamp: we played our annual open air concert in Walken Gardens as part of the Sale Festival. Considering there was a World Cup match, and the local church were on a Treasure Hunt, we had a lot of people in the audience. There was a small problem with the PA to start with, but that, and the weather, sorted themselves out before giving us too many problems. Bit nippy by the end tho. Brrr.

Mr W: For his birthday, I took him to stay at The Nobody Inn which is unsurpassed in nummy food, and a massive selection of wines and whiskies. Needless to say, we didn't feel the need to leave the place very often! We did take in a couple of local NT places, had cream teas by the river in Fingle Bridge, and had profiteroles with StepMama, but were generally very relaxed with our books and the brown beers. Yum.

He also got appointed as Deputy Diocesan Registrar, so he is officially the Bishop's Number One Chum. We've been invited to dinner at his palace and everything (he had a collection of Daleks in his fireplace which shot him up many points in my estimation!)

Family: My shiny new niece was born! Lil Sis wants to send her back for she sleeps through the day and is awake all night, but she is generally smiley (in public anyway) so that's OK.

Middle Liddle Sis passed her Fork Lift exam which made me v excited and v jealous indeed.

Gigage: We went to see Strikepoint in Maghull. They are quite simply marvellous, and a good introduction to Handbell Ringing for Mr W. Although he will now be disappointed by every other team he sees as they can't possibly compare!


And finally Bookage, which is a very long list as I had 2wks to do very little else but read:
Gerard Hoffnung's The Maestro and The Symphony Orchestra; Kim Harrison's White Witch, Black Curse; Gerald Durrell's The Stationary Ark; Cornish Tales of Terror edited by R Chetwynd-Hayes; Roald Dahl's My Uncle Oswald; Sean Hughes' The Detainees; The Piano by Jane Campion & Kate Pullinger; Philip Ardagh's The Not-So-Very-Nice Goings-On at Victoria Lodge; Chuck Palahniuk's Pygmy; Stephen King's Under the Dome; Sergei Lukyanenko's The Last Watch; Warren Ellis' Do Anything; and I discovered and muck liked Christopher Moore, and so read Fluke, The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove, The Stupidest Angel, Coyote Blue, Bloodsucking Fiends, Practical Demonkeeping & Dirty Job back to back. I think there may be a couple more I haven't yet read, but they won't escape me for long!!

I've just started Haruki Murakami's Wind-up Bird Chronicle which has been very familiar so far. I wonder if I've read it before...

Filmage: I saw Centurion with rfbooth in that there Bolton; and Iron Man 2 and Nightmare on Elm Street in our local moving picture house. mr_williams_law admitted that he hadn't seen any of the originals! Where has he been?? Oh yeah: Wales. That explains it.

Bookage: Will Self's Liver. I've rather let myself down on the reading front. Damn iPhone and its continued shininess!

Ink: I had the final hour of tattooing to finish it off (for which they didn't charge me as it's over what they quoted. Bless!) but that meant I couldn't wear my Dress-for-Weddings to that evening's Band Camp as it would've got covered in ink and blood and other excretions. This sparked several hours of running about to find a belt for a dress which I only normally wear with a corset, but which would be suitable for a wedding, and comfy enough to wear on freshly tattooed skin. I saw the perfect belt online, but on ringing all the shops in the north west, no-one stocked it. FFS! Finally found only a semi-horrific make-do in a sale, which is just as well, for I shall never wear it again. *shudders* So mr_williams_law mummified me in cling flim so I didn't leak all over my dress, my clarinet or the happy couple. Classy!

Camp: We have also played for several other boiling concerts (why do places feel the need to have their heating on when there's 50 of us expelling hot air??); and another wedding, for which I did get to wear my Dress-for-Weddings; and as mr_williams_law was invited to come too, we abandoned the car in deepest darkest Flixton overnight so we could both have a tipple. Or twelve. It was lovely for the Happy Couple to give us the opportunity to see band campers socially, and to meet their other halves. And there was a hog-roast! Needless to say, we had a wonderful evening!

Eyes: While mr_williams_law's piano was being tuned, I went to the opticians and had my eyeballs photographed. I had turquoise rectangles superimposed on everything for a couple of hours afterwards. Still kinda cool though, seeing pics of one's previously unseen places. My new specs are black and red as a nice change from my previous black and white. I also decided to upgrade to React To Light lenses as I'm fed up of having two pairs of specs for bright outsides and gloomy insides. I put them on straight away as it was a v sunny day, but there was no difference in them when I went out. I marched straight back to the opticians in a huff, but luckily I caught sight of my reflection in their window before I stomped back in, for the lenses were completely dark. What a muppet I would've looked if I'd've gone in there shouting the odds! As the wearer, you are completely unaware of any change. Tres Bizarre!

Bonce: I had a CT Scan on my noggin to determine the extent of the tissue damage, as if they're going to operate, they might as well fix everything at the same time. What they didn't mention is that piercings cause starbursts on the scans, so they wanted me to take 'em out. But because they hadn't mentioned it up front, I hadn't booked sufficient time off work to get them all back in again, so I could only remove 5. The nurse made it clear that this was all my fault and I wasting their v precious time; even though they have a standard letter for MRIs which warns you to take everything out, but didn't think to use it for CTs as well. Why didn't I think to check my crystal ball?? Silly me. The upshot of which is I'm on the waiting list (4/5 weeks) to have the inside of my head cauterised (I'm over-simplifying, but that's what it boils down to). As I have quite a few singing engagements coming up, this could be a problem, but I'm hoping it'll fall between the concert at the beginning of July and the one at the end of August, which should give me the 2wks' solitary confinement I need plus enough time to get used to the changes in my skull cavities which could drastically affect the way I sing. Ooo I do like a challenge!

Dead: My wonderfully patient accompanist, Elwyn Harper, unfortunately died recently (not as a result of my singing, I should add). I took time off work to attend the memorial service, and was absolutely astounded by performances by a couple of her grandchildren. They are both in the National Youth Orchestra, and were completely gobsmacking. I also spotted a flautist from Band Camp there - apparently her family grew up next to Elwyn's. Small world!

Bells: The Stepmother came up for the annual trip to Grassington for the North East Region's spring rally. We had a great time, as usual, with much eating and drinking (I discovered Crabbies' Alcofrolic Ginger Beer! Schwing!) and foolishness, with just a little bit of campanology squeezed in in between. I was very proud of my restraint in only buying one tea towel, but was bought another as a geeft to make up for it. Woot! On her last evening with us, my Wicked Stepmother met mr_williams_law's Mum & Wicked Stepfather. The ensuing hilarity proved neither to be very good at wickedness. They all got on like a house on fire... but without all the running and screaming. Phew!

Funny: mr_williams_law and I had been terribly disorganised, and failed to book tickets to see Reginald D Hunter before they sold out. We put ourselves on the reserve list, and actually got tickets slap bang in the middle of the front row of the circle which are always our seats of choice. Result! His support act was Steve Hughes and his Heavy Metal Comedy. Why had I never heard of him before??

Singings: The choir that I sing in at Christmas to raise money for chariddy has finally made good on its promise to sing madrigals in the middle of the year to raise even more monies for even more chariddies. The first rehearsal was a little gruelling - I hate sight-reading in public - but it went a lot better than it had any right to. Plus our hostess rewarded us with most excellent noms. Sshe's one of these people that produces endless trays of delightful, inventive, beautifully presented finger food, while making it look effortless. We will be rehearsing every Tuesday and Thursday this month in preparation for the concert at the end of June, so I shall officially have no life as I am now doing something every evening for the next month! Ugh.

Topiary: I not only booked an appointment for, but actually went to The Hairdresser! (Dun Dun Dunnnnn /dramatic music) My usual hairdresser had upped and closed since last I went (about 3yrs ago, so if all their customers were as devoted as me, it's no wonder they went under). So I did some nosing about online trying to find a salon with no ponceyness. For not all of us want to have the latest creations from the catwalk, or the asylum, or wherever these crazy styles start off. She took 8" off (well, I was fed up of getting it trapped in my bum cleavage) and didn't try to style it or muck about with it, or do anything other than wash it, cut it and dry it. Bliss! I shall reward them with my continued patronage... in another couple of years or so.

Age: My nephew was 1 this week. One. Un. Uno. Ein. Een. My point being that it seems to have come round rather quickly. While shopping for the perfect geeft that every 1yr old male yearns to possess, I got a bit carried away and accidentally started my Christmas shopping. I normally like to start early due to the sheer magnitude of the task, but this year I think I might have out-ridiculoused even myself.

Buns: The time had come again spending the day Adventuring with Unusual Guru Wilbur. We had our hearts set on Alnmouth, where he was interested in moving to, but the rail company decided that they would take a minimum of £70 and 4hrs to get us there. So we went to Holmfirth instead. We found a wonderful bookshop, and a music shop, and a shop that had a startling range of hiking gear, whisky and brown beer. Hurrah! We found a pub who provided scampi in a basket at midday (and pics of nude men in the loo which was rather disconcerting) and plenty of places to give us froffee coffees and sticky buns whenever the fancy took us. Which it did. Often.

Vacuum: I dismantled my trusty Vax to give all its private parts a long overdue clean. Rocknroll! \m/

Nostalgia: I bought a cunning device which converts cassettes to MP3, so I have spent every spare minute since rediscovering my 80s mixtapes! Hurrah! Singing, "A wizard's staff has a knob on the end, a knob on the end, a knob on the end..."

Mogs: I took the mogs to the vet for their annual prodnpoke, and they are officially no longer fat! Hurrah! Although the vet is now my best chum for following instructions & being a responsible pet owner, I will not be winning any feline popularity contests for a while methinks.

Panic: This morning, I had my first public rehearsal of the piece I'm singing for the July concert. The acoustics in the church are magnificent, which means that it does quite a lot of your work for you. And seeing as the piece is rather complicated and scary, I'll take any help I can get!

Right, I must now go and write some letters. With actual writing, and envelopes and stamps! Ooo, it's like being back in the nineties!

No. It isn't. I just felt like it.

Not a lot to report for I have mostly been going to work, band, choir and bed week in, week out. However, there were a few other activities wedged in which merit comment. Or possibly not, but I'm going to comment regardless.

On twig_wonderkid's birthday, we whisked him off to the Trafford Centre, dragged him - sweating - around Waterstones to choose geefts (it really is hot in there) and then stuffed him full of food and amusingly named cocktails.

On a similar foody theme, the in-laws came to stay for a w/end, and we dragged them (not sweating) 'round some local National Trust properties (and guilted them into getting a membership); stuffed them full of fine Italian nosh, pub carveries, home-made fajitas; tea-and-sticky-buns; and ice cream; and then dragged them to a Band Concert while we blasted the swing moozik into their very faces. Hurrah!

Continuing the food theme, we went over to that Bolton to meet that rfbooth for a Sunday night screening of that Kick-Ass (I really didn't want to see it, but I'm jolly glad I did) and spicy noms. We're going to see Clash of the Titans in 3D with him this evening too. I don't think I've seen him this often all year!

And still belabouring the foody theme, I had my first Golcar Pay Day Nosh Extravaganza with Unusual Guru Wilbur. I left there reeking of garlic and in possession of a large remote-controlled tarantula. This sort of thing doesn't happen when I visit anyone else...

In a not-related-to-food-at-all way, I went to another Bob Chilcott workshop where we sang through his new Requiem which was beautiful, and great fun to boot. Sat next to a Scottish lady from Salford Choral Society who had a very dry sense of humour and kept me tittering all day. I've booked in for the next one in September too. Eager!!

And in another foodless activity (yes! I did more than one foodless activity! Do I win a prize? Is it food?), I've bought this year's Dress for Weddings/Funerals/Christenings/Brisses/etc. Due to my ever-expanding... well, everything, actually... a dress doesn't last very long before I start spilling out of it, which is a shame as it only gets worn a couple of times. Still, this year, I've gone for sommat that's a bit more "me" and of course I need shoes (2 pairs for some reason - and no, I haven't grown more feet); a fascinator (even tho I don't wear the 2 I've already got); and a different-shaped bra (still nork-shaped obviously, but with multi-talented straps for different over-shoulder-boulder-holding configurations. It's all v complicated). I know the idea of me in a dress is shocking, but it's not half as shocking as the reality. I am truly a sight to behold (think stuffed bolster).

On the back front (back front? Yes, back front), I've been having schnozz trouble again singing "your back bone's connected to your... nose bone" /singing (it's all related to the AS and the swelling of the soft tissues) which will require surgery to fix. Got a scan in a couple of weeks' time to determine the extent of the damage and then they'll... probably cut it off. Lucky me!

Bookage: continuing my cheesy vampire fixation, I've read Charlaine Harris' All Together Dead, From Dead to Worse, and Dead and Gone; and now for a bit of a change, I've just started Will Self's Liver. Even the inside cover's good!

Right, got a one-to-one meeting with my manager now. I've already filled in completely the wrong paperwork for it, so I'm off to a flying start!

Sooo.... not been on LJ for Twitter has taken over my life! I know you can form a link between the two and dump your tweets into LJ, but I know other chums that do this and it doesn't make for an exciting read. Not that my blogs ever do, but I've got to have some standards. Yes, having standards is definitely the way forward.

I have been doing several things since I last posted (more than one thing, less than one thousand things) so I shall attempt to summarise them here. Feel free to go off and slit your wrists at any time, dear flist, but be sure to use adequate plastic sheeting.

On the rfbooth front, we went for a scrummy dinner one evening; and another evening, I joined him in Bolton for spicy nosh and his school's production of Les Mis. Considering how difficult it is, they did a sterling job, as I've come to expect. The sound man should've been slapped (I nearly went and did it meself but it didn't sound like he was even in the same room as the performance and I didn't want to miss large chunks of it seeking him out); but apart from that, it was very easy to forget that they were just kids, a-singing and acting their wossnames off. Impressive.

On the Valentine's Day front, Mr W bought me a mahossive bunch of deep red roses (I responded with foolish Y-fronts) and we went for our traditional Thai Meal which was worth the effort. Yummmmm.

On the theatre front, we went to see Stephen K Amos and Sean Lock at The Lowry, and were mightily tickled by both. We also saw Stop Messing About (which I'd never heard but enjoyed immensely); and Spike Milligan's Adolf Hitler: My Part in his Downfall which was much more musical than we expected, and ten times as impressive because of it. They could all play everything, and sing and act all at the same time! I struggle with remembering to stay on me chair when I'm playing... And then we met up with Mr and Mrs qb_fox for nosh & natter, and went to see The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain. Wow! Again, playing ukeleles, singing and being funny all at once. Where do these people come from? Whoever arranges their music is a genius; and the random geefts (including assorted ramekins)for a random member of the audience; and the ukelele of such a size that it had to be brought in on its own truck were just the icing on the cake.

On the CD recording front, The Band have recorded another CD! Hurrah! The recording sessions were a lot less onerous than I'd expected (the endless supply of tea and biccies helped) and it actually gave us a chance to have a bit of a socialise, which was nice. The CD should be ready for the big Spring Concert this w/end, so I shall take plenty of monies in my sticky fists and buy copies for everyone! (well, for me and me Dad anyway).


On the Midlife Crisis front, I have had 3/4 of a full back tattoo (the outline was much less painful than I expected, and the colouring in much more painful) but I've just read me book and chatted with The Lovely Laurence and done my best to ignore it. The trail of scabs I'm leaving behind me while it heals is going to have everyone thinking I'm leprous, but these things have to be bourne. One hour left to go, and it'll be a masterpiece! williams_lawyer has taken my tattoo and raised me a gym membership. He's joined the same one that I swim at, so it's something we can do together. However, having got back into swimming regularly for about a week, I had me goggles nicked (which were a gift and very snazzy. Grrr.) and then the tattoo happened, so swimming's orf until it heals. Still, Mr W has been going religiously, but I've warned him that if he gets thin then I'm divorcing him.

On the MRI front, I had my next MRI, in a different hospital to the last one, and it was a much newer machine, a much more organised process, and generally a more pleasant experience (apart from having to remove all my piercings which I had to take half a day off work to do). The odd thing was, they asked if I had any tattoos, just to warn that they can tingle. They didn't tingle before, so I didn't think anything of it. But I could feel the new one getting warmer and warmer and warmer. Odd! What I want to know is, would I have felt it if they hadn't've said anything??

On the wedding front, we went to Graeme and Lisa's "Cowboy Chic" wedding in Congleton. We don't really do dressing up, but Mr W sported a rather fetching black glittery stetson to show willing. Considering I only knew the groom and the Best Man, we were made to feel very welcome, had a lovely time, drank far too much, ate freely of the nibbles, neatly avoided the line dancing, and chatted with the barmaid. We also tried some of Graeme's Canadian cigars. Apparently, over there they're all flavoured, and have filter tips like cigarrettes. It was a very bizarre experience.


On the JP front, the day after the aforementioned wedding, he spent the day with me wandering around Afflecks to walk off my hangover. I did feel quite ghastly, but with the application of aniseed balls and greasy nosh, he perked me right up. We also met for our usual payday nosh extravaganza (even though he's been made redundant, but it's a tradition or an old charter or something); and I helped him move house from Glossop to Golcar. I can't believe that all his wordly possessions fit in the back of my car! He treated me to a posh lunch, and it was lovely to catch up with The Sphericals as I haven't seen them for ages. They even gave me an Easter Egg! Hurrah!

On the Handyman front, my usual bloke has retired (how selfish!) but I have found another. Yay! His test was to move the alarm box from under the eaves where the solar panel doesn't get enough light to keep it going. This he achieved quickly and with success for now the alarm works again. However, I keep forgetting this and setting the damn thing off. Having yet to be swamped in concerned neighbours, I'm slightly worried that if I do get broken into, no-one will give a monkeys! Heigh ho.

On the exciting butane-fueled weed-burner front, I bought a butane-fueled weed burner and gleefully set alight all the dandelions within a 2mile radius. Take that, you Taraxacum Officinale infestation, you! Mwah ha ha hah!

On the bookage front, I have read Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore; Belle de Jour's Playing the Game; Dean Koontz's Relentless; Deric Longden's Paws in the Proceedings (wonderful!); and Will Self's Psycho Geograph. Then I got a cheesy vampire fixation and read Charlaine Harris' Living Dead in Dallas, Club Dead, Dead to the World, Dead as a Doornail, and just started Definitely Dead. Are you sensing a theme here??

On the filmage front, we have actually made it to the cinema on 3 separate occasions (count 'em: 3!) so that once again, our Unlimited Cards are just about paying for themselves. We did seeings of How to Train your Dragon, Shutter Island, Alice in Wonderland, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, The Wolfman, The Lovely Bones and The Crazies.

And that is a whistle-stop tour of all things 'Bert. Well, not all things, but a significant proportion of the things that aren't tedious, day to day shenannigans. If you made it to the end without self-harming, I salute you.

I has been culchered.

I went to the theatre to see Woman in Black which was simply marvellous.

I had a very civilised Scampi Extravaganza with Unusual Guru Wilbur.


I have read many a mind-expanding tome, like Dean Koontz's Your Heart Belongs to Me; Charlaine Harris' Dead Until Dark (on which the Tru Blood series is based; Rich Fulcher's Tiny Acts of Rebellion (from which I gained many a naughty idea); and Haruki Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun and Sputnik Sweetheart.

I have done filmage: Avatar in 3D (beautiful) and Sherlock Holmes (disappointing as I like the actors very much, until I realised Guy Ritchie had had at it. Git.)

I have had the consultation for and booked the first session for my full back tattoo.

I have been on a wine run. In less than 5 hours, we chose 6 bottles of wine each.

See? Culchered.

It all started late Wednesday night/Thursday morning. Our morning showers were lukewarm at best. Brrr. So I peered at the boiler which stuck its bottom lip out and refused to work.

I rang the boiler repair service (that I pay for) and after being on hold for over an hour was advised they couldn't get to me 'til the following Tuesday (tomorrow). Grrr.

So Thursday night I decided to work late in the warm.
When I got home, I was delighted to discover that in my absence, a pipe had had an attack of the vapours and burst. Excitingly, it had burst right under the eaves, so the resulting waterfall went up into the roof and down into the utility room and conservatory. I'd always fancied a swimming pool, although it wasn't quite the weather for swimming...

It then took me 3hrs to find a plumber who'd actually come out (they were either fully booked with similar jobs, or understandably not wanting to drive in that weather lest they wipe themselves out on near-impassable roads in freezing fog). He charged me the standard emergency call out fee which covers the first hour of work, but as he fixed the pipe v v quickly, he also took a stern look at the boiler and shamed it into working. Hurrah!

On his way out, he smelled gas. Yay! I reported it to Transco at 9pm who said they'd be with me within 2hrs, and in the meantime, I must turn the gas off (taking the central heating, hot water and gas fires out of the equation); turn the electric off (byebye lighting, hot meals and hot drinks); open the doors and windows (letting the -15 outside temperature in); and wait.

I rang them back at midnight when I was still gasmanless, and they assured me he was coming. So I put more layers on, added gloves, wound a scarf around my face, donned a foolish hat, and wrapped myself in a duvet, which attracted the cats to form a warm and fuzzy codpiece. When the thermostat told me the house had got down to -1 inside, I shut the doors and windows hoping the gas had been sufficiently ventilated before I became a 'Bertsicle on the sofa.

The gasman made a triumphant arrival (there would've been a fanfare but we were both too cold for bugling) at half past 8 the next morning. Grrr. Not his fault - he'd been working all night - but they could've told me so I could've got some kip. Anyhoo, there was a leak (I'd have snapped and run amok with my woolly accessories if there hadn't have been) and it only took him about half an hour to fix it. He also tested all my appliances while he was there and confirmed I am now a leak free zone.

Having had little sleep, and being stiff, frozen, malodorous and grumpy, I thought I'd work from home rather than inflict myself on my colleagues. But the network was down, so I had to gird my loins and go into the office. Not a pretty sight - the girding or the me.

After work, I went home and pretty much went straight to bed... which caused me to receive some gentle grief (the choirmistress is the master of quiet disapproval) for missing choir practice. Humph.

Still, all sorted now.
To celebrate, I spent all day Saturday in my new xmas PJs watching DVDs. Any excuse :)

*tap tap*
hello?
anybody there?

I have neglected poor LJ and now it is scowling at me for it knows I have at least a month's worth of stoof to blog about, besmirching its pristine pages with my ramblings.

I do not have enough mugs of tea in my hand for this mammoth bout of literary diarrhoea... hang fire...

...6mins later...

Hurrah, I have returned from a successful raid on the kitchen with mugs of tea, a fudge bar (Unusual Guru Wilbur bought me, amongst other things, a small mountain of fudge bars for Christmas), and the remnants of the Crimble Biccies (pressie from the boss).

Not a lot happened between my last post and Christmas itself (by nothing I mean I sang or played at least once every day for the whole of December) except for work's Christmass Doo (where I deployed the big hair/corset combo and discovered that if I keep putting on weight at this rate, my back boobs will soon be bigger than my front ones); a Lazy Day^TM where we lazied our way around the Christmas Markets stopping frequently for gluhwein and overly large sausages in overly tiny buns; and The Stepmother's 70th Birthday Extravaganza.

Big Bro nefariously went around cancelling and rebooking her various engagements (hairdresser, lunch with chums etc); and I travelled half the way down the night before and stayed with Big Sis, arranging to meet up with Big Bro outside The Stepmother's house before she left for her hair appointment, so when she opened the door, she would have a jolly coronary being confronted with our grinning fizzogs.

Luckily, The Niece rang her the night before (a cunning ruse as she would've thought it odd if we'd all maintained radio silence) and discovered that The Stepmother was planning to leave the house for her 12 o'clock hairdo...20mins journey away... at 9am. FFS! This meant we had to get up at 5 to travel the rest of the way down the country to collar her before she left for an appointment she no longer had. We made her cry, so the shock was (I'm almost certain) a good one. We took her out shopping with a stop for tea and sticky buns; and then to a wonderful lunch at The Nobody Inn where we unveiled our marvellous giftage. As well as a badge, balloons (which we hung from a beam) a foolish hat, party poppers and other noisy accoutrements, I bought her... wait for it... an inflatable zimmer frame! It caused much mirth amongst the staff and other diners.

Big Sis had bought her an autographed book, but couldn't understand the puzzled look on her face when she read the inscription. It turns out Big Sis had bought two copies, one for her and one for her Mum, and wrapped up the wrong one. She'd even taken the wrong one on holiday with her, so it's all nicely battered! Well, at least she could see what she should've had... :) We spent the rest of the day nattering, catching up and being foolish, then topped it off with a takeitaway and boozes. Yay!

Christmas was its usual bonkers mish mash of travelling, eating and drinking; but I actually got to spend Christmas Day with mr_williams_law for the first time. Hurrah! After carol Singing 'round Wythenshawe Hospital, I drove to Wales on Christmas Eve in time for midnight mass at the cathedral, and then spent Christmas morning in bed while Mr W went back to the cathedral for further singage. Had a wonderfully relaxing day with his family, culminating in a board game tournament extraordinaire. We didn't win as often as we'd hoped. Curse his brainy progenitor!

Boxing Day, we drove down to Cornwall to spend a couple of days with Lil Bro, Lil Sis, Middle Liddle Sis & The New Nephew. We also managed to cram in an afternoon with my Mum's best friend and her family (I've been in loose contact with her, but haven't actually seen her since Mum died); and no trip to Cornwall is complete without a trip to the Meadery. Yummm.

Then we drove up to North Devon to meet up with Mr W's Mum & Stepfamily who had flocked to Barnstaple from all over Europe. We spent most of the time in a wonderfully cozy pub eating and playing more board games. There's a definite theme forming here.

From there, we headed down to South Devon (down the narrowest twistiest lanes my SatNav could find) to spend a couple of days with The Stepmother, Big Sis, Big Bro and The Niece and The Nephew. Again, there was eating (with clotted cream at every opportunity), drinking, board games and other silliness. Planned winter walks by the sea didn't get further than the planning for we were having far too much fun indoors. I also got to visit Dad which was a bonus.

Then we headed back to Wales for New Year's Eve (quiet one in), and then home on New Year's Day to have a couple of days to sit around in our pants recovering before going back to work.

kleesrosegarden made it through the weather to hold court in the Nag's Head, and we joined her for a quick pint before heading back before we got snowed in. For some reason, Macc always has it worse that everywhere else, and getting in and out can be treacherous. It was so wonderful to see her - I didn't realise how much I missed her until I saw her again. Bonkers, eh? And this year I WILL *pokes self in head vigorously to aid memory retention* get out of my routine long enough to go and see her in London. IWILLIWILLIWILL!

Unpacking was like having Christmas all over again - we'd done so much rushing about from pillar* to post** that we hadn't really had time to appreciate all the marvellous gifts we'd been given. As usual, family and chums have surpassed themselves with their generosity and thoughtfulness. (Is thoughtfulness actually a word? If not, it should be, by gum!) We also got quite a bit of money with express instructions to spend it on something rather than nothing, so I can feel an Amazon spree coming on! Woot!

I have squeezed a bit of bookage in: Walter Moers' "The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear" (which I bought purely on the strength of the cover); Terry Pratchett's "Unseen Academicals", Simon Tofield's "Simon's Cat"; and Chuck Iglesias' "Get Stuffed: The Home Taxidermist's Handbook" - an inspired geeft from magentajade which has got me wanting to make a cruet out of hamsters. I'm hoping she's gonna send me the dead animals to go with it... And I keep putting down Neal Stephenson's "The System of the World" to dip into Warren Ellis' "Shivering Sands" and Lal Hardy's "The Mammoth Book of Tattoos".

Work has been a bit of a bust so far this year: Monday was fine. Tuesday it took me an hour to do the 6 miles to work through the snow, and then the office was closed at 12 so after the handyman had dug my car back out of the car park, I headed home again. I ventured out to sing at a funeral in the afternoon, and even that short journey was torturous. I did feel for the pallbearers skating about with the coffin. Overnight the snow/slush froze, so this morning we couldn't even get our cars off the drive, so I've been working from home. Not a huge amount I can do from here, but sommat's better than nowt I spose. There's absolutely no point doing surveys coz you just can't see anything with all this white stuff all over everything!

We spent an hour this afternoon getting the cars off the drive, shovelling it clear and getting them back on again so hopefully we may have a bit more locomotive joy in the morning. The snow was so deep though, it came in over the tops of my wellies and now I have soggy ankles. There's little more traumatic that damp tootsies, I'm sure you'll agree.

*Manchester
**Everywhere else.