Leaks, leeks and leakage...

Leaks
So it turns out, one of the joys of owning your own house is the gradual, pained, discovery of things that need fixing. We live in an apartment in a beautiful old Victorian house. I love it. BUT my adoration for the place has been severely tested of late.

It started with the dodgy dining room radiator, which hasn't worked since we moved in. Over Christmas, we got cold enough to finally, and urgently, do something about it. So we took to Youtube and Google, as you do - and read that we may need to "balance the system".

Note: when I say "we" in all this, it's a royal "we" I am NOT helpful when it comes to anything DIY. I would like to be helpful but I'm just a complete klutz and only get given the boring jobs (which usually seem suspiciously made-up to keep me away from the real action).

Anyway - "we" followed the instructions provided by a helpful man on YT which seemed to involve a series of bleeding the radiators, then turning some off, then turning them all on again, etc. etc. Riveting story - I know.

Basically, all of this faffing culminated in a re-routing of our current central heating system, the fixing of a leak, the replacement of a load of pipe, a boiler pump and a few floorboards.

It was heart-breaking the time (and wasn't exactly purse-friendly either) BUT all was sorted in the end and, as I write this, I'm in the dining room and warm as toast. Thanks go to the Boy's Uncle who, fortunately for us, is a heating engineer.

Leeks
We've been getting veg boxes delivered from a local farm shop once every 2 weeks and they are a-mazing! It only costs us a tenner per fortnight (or 1.50 extra for eggs) and it's really challenged us to cook more varied things.

Where the vegetables are all grown locally, they are seasonal, so rather than stick with the basic onions, potatoes, mushrooms, courgette (my personal faves) we've been having savoy cabbage, purple-headed broccoli, romano cauliflower and lots and lots of leeks (which I never realised I like).

My favourite think to do with leeks is this:
http://www.jamieoliver.com/magazine/recipes-view.php?title=cheesy-leeks-a-la-oliver-1

Leakage
It's way past my bedtime but I can't sleep because any slight incline of my head causes prolonged and violent sneezing. My nose has been running ever since I woke up this morning (*cough* this afternoon *cough), my eyes keep watering- hell, I'm probably even dribbling! My whole face is a complete mess and I SO am not looking forward to work in the morning. Monday mornings aren't my favourite, even when I'm bright as a button (me? bright? in the morning?...).

Anyway, hopefully I will think of some more hilarious and exciting things to write about when I'm not off my face on Beechams.

Perhaps I'll check in tomorrow to regale you with more fascinating stories about DIY and vegetables.

Ah, who'm I kidding?

Until the next time I can be arsed to write to you...

See ya folks!

Running With Scissors - The Right to Bear Stationery

A primary school teacher has died after being accidentally stabbed with a bayonet during a papier maché activity that went horribly wrong. Felicity Appleton was teaching an art class in which the children, aged 5 to 6, were creating a giant paper sculpture, using knives, axes, and other dangerous blades to cut the required materials.

The teacher's decision to use these implements is supported by the school who say that it is their policy to use blades wherever possible in order to prepare the children for their responsibility, as citizens of the United Kingdom, to bear stationery.

Little Scratchington Prep School has been heavily criticised for this in the national press with many of the parent-run academies labelling it "morally bankrupt". However, opinion across the country is so divided that no politician will broach the subject for fear of jeopardising the results of the upcoming General Election.

Meanwhile, the school has received support from many powerful organisations which refer to the Right to Bear Stationery as a duty and a privilege of British Citizenship.

The Right to Bear Stationery began as The Right to Bear Pens, which was accepted  as English Common Law in 1689 following a misunderstanding that caused ministers to believe the adage "the pen is mightier than the sword" was to be taken literally. It was thought that, in giving every man the right to carry a pen, each citizen would be able to defend the crown should they ever be in a situation to demonstrate the efficacy of the pen vs sword theory. It was apparently not an issue that most of the country's population at that time was illiterate. Being literate and "handy with a pen" were entirely different things.

The law was extended in the 1850s to include all other forms of stationery when the enterprising Victorians realised 3 very important things.

1) If you made it law that everyone had to carry a pen, you could make a lot of money selling pens;
2) what do you make the people who can't afford pens carry? And...
3) Pens vs swords would be a lot more likely to work if the pens were a bit...pointier...

These considerations meant that the law was amended to The Right to Bear Stationery which has been a common feature of our legislation ever since.

With these changes, our social history was also affected...

The set-square was invented and became an overnight success. Originally intended as a cheap and effective way to get a little bit stabby with your stationery, university professors had to create a whole new subject in order to find a more everyday use for them.  Professor Trigon of Oxford and his team contrived "trigonometry" which was subsequently included in the National Curriculum as an elaborate cover story for the superfluity of set-squares to be found in Britain. We didn't want the French to get suspicious! Oxford professors are of course renowned for their ability to create unnecessary subjects for study as no doubt you will know from Professor Alan Gebrah's contributions.

The literacy level also saw a significant increase as children experimented with their parents pens and began, to their surprise, to write and draw rather than stab each other. Although, to be fair, there was a bit of stabbing that went on too.

Navigators, hitherto considered to be harmless nerds, were suddenly revered for their skill with the most dangerous stationery of the time, the compass. Soon, set-squares, pens and compasses were issued to every school child in handy sets which are still sold today.

The final benefit that the Victorians experienced when the Right to Bear Stationery was made law, was that the level of unemployment went right down. This is because Woolworth's were so successful in selling Stationery Sets that they opened a branch in every town, employing 20 - 80 staff.

The two World Wars* meant that The Right to Bear Stationery took a back seat and eventually faded into a quaint tradition. The kind of tradition that meant that all old ladies carried pens in their handbags, and all children were bought Stationery Sets, without anyone really remembering why.

*(not the Two-Word Wars, those were entirely different in nature and saw Germans and Brits shout two-word insults at each other from either side of battle lines e.g "Arse Bandit", " Stinkenden Hund". The German's actually won the Two-Word Wars which is why we aren't taught much about it.  It was considered that they had an unfair advantage because theirs is an agglutinative language which allows them to get away with pretending that two words are in fact one, very long, very difficult to pronounce, single word. ) 

The 1950s saw a brief revival of the law when it was considered the duty of every upstanding citizen to have the ability to write a letter of complaint or sign a petition at a moment's notice. This sudden requirement saw the BBC have to move "Points of View" to a primetime slot.

Nowadays, the Right to Bear Stationery is a little known common law which has been gathering dust, unamended and unchecked until this week's shocking events. Who knew that there were villages where this tradition was still a fiercely guarded right? As mentioned, the Little Scratchington Prep School did not stop at set-squaress and compasses but instead allowed their pupils to use cleavers, axes and bayonets.

Their defence is that all such implements can be considered to be stationery when used in the context of arts and crafts. They say that they use a progressive system to teach the children respect and discipline. The pupils reportedly behave a lot better when they are faced with the possibility of losing a limb. However, as with all tools, accidents can sometimes happen. Little Scratchington Prep School refuses to accept liability for what it calls "a cruel twist of fate" and claim that they are being responsible by teaching their charges to be safe and respect sharp tools. In the words of the headmaster, Mr Chopper:

Children are more likely to have an accident if you give them a pair of scissors and say "here you are but whatever you do, DON'T RUN WITH THEM" because the child will run with them as soon as your back is turned. What we do is say "here are some scissors, this is how you run with them safely, now run along! Mind how you go!". This is our way of teaching the children to respect dangerous stationery whilst still fulfilling their citizenship duties. Our pupils go out in the world prepared to defend the realm with crimping scissors, or if necessary, a bayonet. 

Love (Ick!)

Recently, a couple of my closest friends (you know who you are) have fallen in lurve (yeah - I did drop the L-bomb but it wasn’t a proper L-bomb so don’t freak out). This means that I am having to take a massive dollop of my own medicine when it comes to listening, as all good friends must, to smug tales of loved-uppyness.

I have therefore, out of the kindness of my heart, and in the true spirit of helping my dear darling friends, compiled a list of comparisons, between the way things are in the “Honeymoon Phase” and the way they become 10 years later in the “We-have-a-40yr-mortgage Phase”. This is purely to help you prepare for a happy and fulfilling future together, you understand, and not, in any way to deter you from continuing your beautiful, fledgling relationship so that I can go back to being Queen of Smug.

You know you are in the “Honeymoon Phase” when:

He stays over, and you act as though his sleeping naked is in no way awkward, even though you lay awake all night with his sweaty balls stuck to the back of your thighs, thinking “Oh my God, his balls are stuck to me! They must love me too!”

You share a bed together and he’s out like a light whilst you’re never able to get comfy but you mistake your over-tiredness for euphoria because THERE WAS A MAN IN YOUR BED!

You get up before he does so that you can artfully arrange your hair and make-up to get that adorable slept-in-but-still-beautiful look, then sneak back under the covers and pretend to wake up all cutely ruffled!

He makes you a lovely breakfast every morning that he stays at yours and serves it to you in bed, and pretends not to expect any sort of reward.

You watch him wash and shave and all the time you’re watching him, you’re staring with this overawed look on your face because you just can’t quite believe that THERE WAS A MAN IN YOUR BED and now HE IS SHAVING AT YOUR SINK! (By the way - that overawed look, it ain’t pretty, close your mouth dearie, we are not a fish!).

He stares into your eyes all the time you are doing your make-up and then fervently declares that you don’t need to wear any make-up because “your eyes are as beautiful as the stars”, or “your face is as beautiful as a fresh spring day” or some soppy shit like that. 

One or both of you keeps instagramming arty shots taken on your numerous dates, showing your hand clasped in his, or his shoes next to your shoes, or the meal you’ve just had, or the pretty way the light hits the pavement outside the bijoux restaurant you just left, together, on your perfect little date.

You have had a complete change of opinion apropos your stance on Public Displays of Affection. 

You wear uncomfortable knickers with lacy bits, and frills and “sheer panels” and ribbons - and he probably bought them for you, in which case they’re even more uncomfortable because you probably also lied about your size, right?

You shave past your knees, but you never let him catch you doing it because you too busy pretending that you’re blessed with natural hairlessness in all the most convenient places. You are imagining that this makes you more desirable but that slightly caveman look on his face? That’s not lust - that’s confusion, darling.

You keep your bedroom tidy, just in case you should accidentally-on-purpose stay out too late for him to catch the train home, and he has to “crash” at yours.

He thinks that he has successfully survived your period because he stayed over one night during your monthly and managed to not get shouted at, even though you were shaking with suppressed rage the entire time because he patronisingly stirred the pasta when you were just about to do it yourself!

He removes his socks and shoes before engaging in a quickie.

You laugh at all his jokes, even when they are not at all funny, and then tell all your friends the same jokes and get disappointed when they don’t laugh as much as you did.

When you introduce him to your friends, you try to make him perform all the funniest things he has ever said or done, despite already having tried to re-enact them yourself, so that your friends can further appreciate how funny he is.  

10 years later...

You wear long pyjamas and spend your nights blissfully unconscious of each others presence but you get really cross if you are woken up by the other person “breathing loudly” (I don’t snore!).

When one of you leaves the bed, the other immediately spreads themselves across the vacated space with no apparent regret at their partner having left.

You wake up like an Orc who’s just been stabbed by a sneaky Hobbit - it ain’t pretty and you don’t care because it will hopefully put him off ever trying to wake you up again. Oh but that time that you missed your alarm and were late for work? His fault.

He makes you breakfast in bed and then nicks your toast whilst waiting for you to finish eating so he can claim his reward.

He doesn't shave...

... neither do you.

Comfort becomes your number one consideration above all else when it comes to matters of intimacy. There comes a certain point when it becomes totally okay to leave your socks on.

This point comes around the time when you start wearing the BIG knickers. (Don't pity me. Most girls long for this day).

Oh, and you might still make an effort where make-up is concerned but rather than declare that you don't need it because you're "beautiful as you are" he tends to make huffy comments about how you're running late (again) whilst pointedly looking at his watch - then the next thing he'll say is that he doesn't see the point of "natural" make-up anyway, grumblegrumble, etc.

You don't Instagram so much as happy-slap each other, post the resultant pictures on Facebook, and tag the heck out of each other's double chins.

And a "perfect, little date" constitutes a Chinese takeaway on the living-room coffee table while watching back-to-back Breaking Bad.

Your bedroom is just one big floordrobe and laundry only happens when one or the other of you runs out of pants. So you buy more pants every time you pass Primarni - just to make sure that it's not you who will be driven to use the washing machine. Sometimes, it's not even lack of pants that force you to do laundry - embarrassingly often it comes down to a battle of wills.

In his opinion there is no longer such a thing as you being justifiably angry, because, having survived 10 years of your periods, he now puts all disgruntlement on your part down to hormones - which just makes you even angrier...

He keeps his socks on at all times because NOTHING is worth getting cold feet for.

It annoys you if your friends find him hi-larious because it just encourages him!

--

HAPPY ARBITRARY-REASON-TO-BUY-OVERPRICED-CHOCOLATE DAY!

NaNoWriNOOOOOO00000000oooooooo!

It's December today and I'm sure I'm not the only one scratching my head, wondering where the time went!

Unfortunately for me, midnight, November 30th, heralded failure. Sad face. 

Yes. FAILURE.

Basically, I had unwisely signed up to do NaNoWriMo this year. And then... I didn't do it. 

For those of you who have no idea what I'm on about... NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month. It's a challenge which you sign-up to online. The idea is to try and write a novel of 50,000 words or more in just 1 month.

There's no prize as such. I mean, they send you a certificate I think - but you don't win a book deal or money or anything. Just the satisfaction of having completed the challenge.

In my case, I thought it would be a brilliant kick up the bum to actually get some of the book I want to write actually written down!

There were numerous reasons to believe at the very outset that I would fail...

1) I'm pretty bloody lazy with writing anyway (as you have no doubt realised by my seldom updates on this blog!)

2) I'm not very creative. Unfortunately, I seem to have been cursed with an overactive imagination (particularly when it comes to anxiety over the numerous and varied ways in which loved ones might cop it. Morbid, I know!) but almost zero creative ability! This combination does not a novelist make!

3) I actually didn't have a story. I had no idea what to write. I have since thought of something but it gets more complicated by the second because I stupidly decided to include quantum physics (which I know absolutely nothing about) time travel (for which all of my current theory stems from the famously incongruous Doctor Who series) and politics (this from someone who actively avoids watching the news). Yeah...

I'm embarrassed to tell you just how few words I managed to write. It turns out that you are meant to spend a good long while planning what to write before November begins.

I ignored all the advice. Barely paid attention to the numerous Youtube videos and, unsurprisingly... failed.

I'm only telling you to alleviate some of my guilt. I can feel Kristina Horner judging me. I'm sorry Kristina...I am not worthy!

Sigh. Maybe next year eh?

--

P.S. Did any of you try NaNoWriMo? Have any of you written a novel? Any advice for a lazy halfwit like me?

Confessions of a Warhammer Widow

Darling,

My therapist says that I should share the following confessions with you...

1) Sometimes, when I find that blue and yellow plasticine lying around, I like to smush it together and make cute little shapes out of it.

2) I like to peel the paint scabs off of your mixing tiles.

3) Yesterday I hoovered up 4 tiny bits of grey plastic. I'm not sure what they were but they might have been arms...

4) I accidentally spilt my tea on one of your little pages of transfers and ended up transferring some tiny black signs onto the coffee table. Don't worry! The coffee table's fine.

Please love me still!

Becky

Boo's Reviews| The Shadow of the Wind

The Shadow of the Wind
by Carlos Ruis Zafón

Barcelona, 1945: A city slowly heals in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War, and Daniel, an antiquarian book dealer’s son who mourns the loss of his mother, finds solace in a mysterious book entitled The Shadow of the Wind, by one Julián Carax. But when he sets out to find the author’s other works, he makes a shocking discovery: someone has been systematically destroying every copy of every book Carax has written. In fact, Daniel may have the last of Carax’s books in existence. Soon Daniel’s seemingly innocent quest opens a door into one of Barcelona’s darkest secrets--an epic story of murder, madness, and doomed love.
[Synopsis taken from Goodreads]

This is an absolute beast of a book! It reminds me of my beloved Book Thief but it took me a bit longer to get into. This is why I've only awarded it 4 stars on Goodreads.

It may be because I've been pretty tired with work but I just wasn't able to engage with the story at first. I was intrigued and was enjoying it but it just seemed like an effort to read the first few chapters. I think this is one of those books that you want read on holiday or when you have some downtime because you won't be able to give much of your attention to, say, sleeping or eating.

However, once you have the time to properly connect with it, this is one of those stories that reaches into your soul and seems to require your emotional investment. Once you are into the story, you won't be able to put it down. I was walking round like a ghost for about a week, living in 1940s Barcelona... and I still feel a little haunted a week after finishing it!

It is perhaps not the most light-hearted of books but I know that this is one of those stories that will stay with me and will always inspire me; it will form part of the fabric of my own imaginings until my brain becomes old and mushy. Yeah...I really liked it.

25 Random Things About Me

Hello dear readers. I have been away for most of the summer enjoying the stunning weather but I'm back... to let you know...I can really shake 'em down!

*Ahem*. I mean... I'm back.

In the spirit of getting to know each other a little better, I have decided to include my first meme (dundundunnn). So here are 25 "Random Facts" about moi:

1) I really HATE moths. They are butterflies FROM HELL.

Found on Google Images - No credit taken!

2) We used to have to drink milk in primary school and it was always slightly warm and smelt awful. This has pretty much put me off milk for life. I tolerate the smallest amount in my tea and on my Weetabix.

3) I am named after the midwife that delivered me. I think Mum & Dad thought I was going to be a boy and, when it turned out I wasn't, they were like "Oh err quick think of a girl's name...Rebekah that'll do!". That's right RebeKAH. It's Hebrew. No, I'm not Jewish. My parents just like the way it's written in the Bible. Yes. It IS annoying when people think it's funny to call me REBE-KAH-Kah-kah a la Shooting Stars...

4) I am technically what you might call "hirsute". To my dismay I discovered this when I saw an interview with a woman on a dodgy Channel 5 documentary and realised that we were as hairy as each other - except that she was being deliberately lax with the topiary in order to charge questionable characters lots of money to nuzzle her armpits. Maybe I'm missing a trick but I think I'll carry on with my bald monkey act for now... At least I know I've got something I can fall back on!

5) I bang my head almost daily. The routine goes something like this: Open bathroom wall cabinet, retrieve toothbrush, start to brush teeth, bend down to open cupboard under the sink, stand-up and crack head on corner of bathroom cabinet door. I have tried to move things around so I don't have to get things from under the sink but that just makes me bang my head somewhere else at some other point in the day. I've therefore made the conscious decision, since I am obviously destined to sustain this sort of daily injury, to at least exercise what little control I have over my immediate future by allowing my head to be hit in the same place each time. Logic shmogic...

6) I cry. A lot. At the slightest sign of distress to a fictional character, human or otherwise, I am blubbing like a baby. As you can imagine, Les Mis nearly killed me.

7) I love my job. I'm a ...wait for it..."Business Development Manager" - posh eh? I sell factory machines business-to-business. It may not sound like much but it's fun, challenging, a bit weird, and I'm a real geek about it.

8) I think lamb tastes like sheep smell. That's why I don't eat it.

9) I'm fluent in French and Spanish.

10) Wet cling film weirds me out. Don't ask me how I know this...

11) I love cheese so much that I used to just eat it off the block but I had to stop doing it when I moved in with my boyfriend because it turns out a random fact about him is that he hates finding bite marks in the cheese. Who knew?

12) I love sleeping. I do not subscribe to the whole "but you'll waste the day" theory. It is NOT a waste of a day if sleeping is how you intended to spend your time.

13) I will never tire of watching FRIENDS.

14) I got an E in my Electronics GCSE. We had to choose a technology subject at GCSE level because my senior school was a Technology College. I was banned from Mrs B's sewing room because I broke a needle on one of the sewing machines. (She seemed incredibly unsympathetic to the fact that the way I broke this needle was by accidentally sewing it through my finger!). Mrs Heinz's (no joke - that was her name) Food Tech class was boring and I couldn't draw so thought Graphics would be a nightmare. As for woodwork - well would you let me loose with a saw? Didn't think so. I was left in a class of 5 boys in Electronics. They were all very clever, computery types. I was mostly able to get them to help me solder stuff in class but on the exam paper, there was no saving me. I got 12 marks out of 120 and those were for colouring-in (designing a package for a torch). Maybe I should have done Graphics after all...

15) I would love to travel more but when I had the time, I didn't have the money and now I have more money but no time!

16) I would love to get a dog when the Boy and I have our own house. The landlady would have a fit if we kept one in our current flat!

My BF wants us to get a dog like this one.

17)  I was genuinely quite disappointed when I reached 11 and did not receive my letter from Hogwarts.

18) I would love to write a book one day but have no fudging clue what to write about. Until then, you'll just have to put up with me writing silly crap on T'internet.

19) I once sang a solo in front of the Commodore of the Royal Navy. I was a Sea Cadet and when I was about 15 I went on a summer camp at Britannia Royal Naval College. I volunteered to sing in the choir whilst I was there and the Vicar asked if I would like to sing on my own instead. I sang a lovely little church number which I called "As The Deer Pants" because the first line is "As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs after you...". I think most people called it "As The Deer".

20) I own a lot of lipsticks and am forever buying more!

21) Christmas is my FAVOURITE time of year. Both my Sister and I get almost unhealthily obsessive about presents and decorations and the tree etc. etc. Hannah even goes as far as demanding everyone stick to a strict dress code of silly woolly jumpers.

22) I love surprises. Nice ones, obvs.

23) I am told that I turn into a petulant 5-year-old when I'm tired.

24) I wish I could walk in heels with a modicum of grace. But I can't.

25)  The best advice I have ever heard is "just keep swimming" - Dory - Finding Nemo.

BONUS RANDOM FACT
My brother has reminded me of another random fact...
I have 3 younger siblings: the aforementioned sister and 2 brothers. They are all darlings, especially the brothers. I will be writing a post very soon on the unfathomable pleasures of having younger brothers... so stay tuned for that!

Okay, that's me done for the day. Tell me a random fact about you in the comments!

Tomorrow we will be talking about books.

Ciao for niao!