What not to not wear - or something

For some months now, I have been increasingly concerned at Keith's lack of sartorial elegance - no really. His everyday dress is becoming more like the surface of NASA. (Yes, it's that bad!) The main problem is that his work is changing as he is doing more key cutting and car unlocking and code resetting which, while it doesn't actually involve crawling under cars, leaves him looking at the end of the day as if that is exactly what he has been doing. To add insult to injury, he insists on doing all this in a white shirt, which means that, every time I put his shirts in the wash, I first have to spend half an hour going over them with gallons of that stain removing stuff in a pink bottle. Also, as he frequently forgets to take his jacket off before he plunges into the day's activities, that too is looking the worse for wear.
So today, I devoted myself to clothes shopping.
No, don't get all excited and jealous. It's nowhere near as interesting when you're shopping for men's clothes.
Anyway, the sum total of my purchases was a pair of dark trousers, a very nice dark shirt and a dark casual jacket. When I can persuade him to try them on, I might take a photo.
Then, I moved over to the ladies' section.
Well, there's only so much boredom even I can take!

Valentine Day

Valentine Day and a beautiful bouquet of roses and extra large card awaited me this morning. When I opened the card, I noticed a small drawing on one side looking, to my untutored eyes, not unlike a small swarm of bees. Casually, I asked what it was.
"They're Heinkels from the Luftwaffe," Keith replies, apparently slightly miffed that I hadn't identified them immediately.
"Oh," I say.
"Good, aren't they?" he continues enthusiastically.
"I'm lost for words," I reply diplomatically.
And I was.

NASA again

Nestling amongst all the other detritus (sorry - items) on Keith's computer station, aka NASA, is a substantial pile of correspondance, all the boring brown envelope stuff and a fair proportion of it unopened. The other morning I mentioned that, this week being my half term, it was 'all going to go'.
Keith misinterpreting my threat to mean everything on the desk, hurriedly brought home the wherewithall to rebuild one of the computers so that the other one could be dispensed with. I suppose it was too early for me to celebrate; I should have waited for the final outcome. So for the past few evenings I have watched him rebuild the computer, not like yer average computer, of course. No, this one has about 20 hard drives in it (only a slight exaggeration) which means that
a) it is very heavy
b) there are problems getting it to work reliably.

So it's back to the drawing board. The NASA corner of the living room is still a mess, there are only three cables less than the fifty million that were there before and there are still discs, boxes and gadgets everywhere.
Oh, and the paperwork? Well, it's no longer on top of the desk, it's now been stuffed out of sight into a drawer. Progress of a sort, I suppose but not quite what I had in mind!

Tractors

I think Keith is getting a bit concerned about my daily problem with tractors cluttering the local dual carriageway during my trip to work. His mind has been on the task and he has come up with a novel solution:
An air to ground heat-seeking missile tuned in to tractors' exhausts!
Sounds good to me. I had been considering the ancient Romans' idea - knives attached to my chariot (sorry - car) wheels carefully positioned to catch them as I overtake, but the heat-seeking missile - oh yes, I like the sound of that.

A Flexible Curriculum

I am very curious to know how our beloved poiticians spend their Sunday afternoons. They obviously don't play golf, go for a healthy walk or even pop down to the local. No, their razor sharp minds ever on the case, they spend their time thinking up startling announcements to hit the headlines the following morning.
Thus it is that this Monday morning, for instance, we hear that philosophy is to be introduced into the Foundation curriculum. Yes, OK, I'm all for improving children's skills at critical thinking.
But not content with that, the secondary curriculum is to get a bit of a heave too. Well, it's about time that lot shared the experience of all the changes we hard-working primary teachers have had to put up with over the last 20 years! (Sorry, YP, only joking - don't get the hazel switch out yet!) So the secondary curriculum is to become more flexible - like the primary curriculum. Sorry, which planet has that particular politician been on? 'Flexible' and 'primary school' ceased to have any connection with each other with the advent of the National Curriculum.
Oh, and cookery will have to be taught, as well as care of the environment, the two world wars and the slave trade, with a little Chinese and/or Arabic thrown in for good measure.
Now, what were we talking about again? Oh yes,

A Flexible Curriculum

So that will be on alternate wet Friday afternoons, right?


Persistence wins the day - maybe

Today, I bought a mini trampoline - for MY use since Keith has now appropriated the stepper.( This girl never gives up! )
Last night I went out with three fellow student counsellors for a birthday celebration meal (one of theirs, not mine) and during the course of the evening, I received a text from Keith:
"Don't forget to bring cake."
He never gives up either!

The ankle - further news

On the 11 month anniversary of the Breaking of the Ankle, Keith had an appointment with the specialist - or one of his minions, anyway, who told him that the pain he is still suffering is because the joint has now become arthritic. Two solutions are possible:
1. An ankle replacement
2. For the joint to be fused, which would result in far less pain but would, of course, mean that he would have no mobility in it.
So an ankle replacement would seem to be the best choice, except that he thinks it unlikely that anyone will do it because of his existing vein problems.
When he broke his ankle, he was coming back from the shop where he had just bought a bottle of whisky and a large cream sponge cake, neither of which he was supposed to be buying - you'd think it would have put him off both for life!
Dream on...

Plaster board and dust

So, we're still no further forward on the British Gas smart meter front and I've given up making non-existent appointments with them...