Electronics

For the past couple of weeks, Keith has been teaching himself electronics - not all of it, I'm sure, but the bits he's interested in. Unfortunately, this meant taking over the dining room, which is very small, and covering every inch of the table with what I would loosely call 'bits and pieces'.( I believe the scientific term would be -bits and pieces). 

But that's not all. In addition, he was building a new, thankfully smaller, computer for NASA, so there were various computer components littered around the living room. Oh, and he has taken the caravan television to pieces too in a, so far unsuccessful,  attempt to mend it.

I am fairly patient and long-suffering (Yes, I am, Kathy!) but if there's one thing which really, really gets to me, it's being surrounded by mess. It doesn't matter that, to Keith it's not mess but precious and interesting stuff, I have only to look around and my positive mood reading immediately drops to double negative with more negative on top.

So now, he's moved everything to the study upstairs. It meant that some of my stuff was unceremoniously ejected, but I can live with that on the basis of 'out of sight, out of mind' is far more bearable.

Peace reigns once more ...

Alice in Wonderland

Some time ago we learned that Paul was going to be taking part in a production put on by a drama group for youngsters in Bingley. The drama group is a branch of  Theatretrain and the performance was 'Alice in Wonderland'. Paul had got himself a part as a spider.
As the performance was an evening one, Claire, Keith and I stayed overnight at Kathy's in Sheffield, which was lovely as we don't often get to spend time together.  We really enjoyed the performance and, of course, Paul was a star, to us, anyway, but it was a long day. The youngsters had been rehearsing since ten o'clock that morning and the performance didn't finish till nine.
In the usual manner of life in the wild, Paul had had problems with the 'bee', who kept trying to pull his legs off but, as you can see from the photo, all legs remained intact at the end of the day.

Paddy + walk + another dog =

Well, in today's case, it equals a twisted, very painful ankle. I am determined not to even think of it as a sprain but, it ain't looking good. This sad situation arose because a lovely little Jack Russell, who, unlike Paddy, is trusted to be off his lead in the valley, came bounding up to us and he and Paddy did the usual sniffing nether regions etc that dogs usually do. All well and good, until little Jack decided to hi-tail it  back to base. Paddy hadn't quite finished his greetings and made a lunge to follow him, catching me by surprise and  causing me to turn my ankle over.

"It'll be fine in a second," I thought, as I hobbled to a nearby bench, but it wasn't. In fact it was painful and I had to hobble back home at greatly reduced speed. 

"You should have rung me and I would have come to get you," said Keith, when he arrived home later.

"But you had already gone out by then," I said, visions of an ex-ambulance trundling across a wide expanse of grass, having skilfully negotiated the lake and the ducks.

"Well, I could have come in the Pajero, off-roading," he replied. I think he would have enjoyed that.

Anyway, I have spent the rest of the day trying ice packs, strapping it up, hobbling and generally trying in vain to reduce the golf ball that is now the outer side of my ankle, but what better excuse not to do the housework that I had planned for today?

Every cloud...!

Bogs 'R Us

For a few weeks now, the downstairs lavatory has been malfunctioning, as in, when you flush it, the water just keeps on coming and the only way to stop the flow has been to lift the cistern lid and then slowly lower it back into place. Don't ask me why it works, it just does.

Whilst not happy with the situation, I lived with it, in the hope that it would  one day sort itself out without any action needing to be taken and I think Keith was of the same mind, so we kept a watching brief, but occasionally, my clients need to use this lavatory too and I can hardly dart in after they've emerged to lift the cistern lid, not without awkward explanations, anyway. 

So, yesterday, Keith was finally on the case and sorted it, by himself, without having to replace the cistern and he is, naturally, very proud, as he has kept on and on about it not ceased to remind me of his success for the past twenty four hours.

That's that, then. Now onto the other items on the to-do list ...

Wheels!

Today the weather is lovely, here in Barmouth. Paddy has been for his walk and was trusted to run free on the beach for a while. For the first moment, he couldn't quite believe his luck, but he was good and came back when called. 

And then, the time I could put off no longer, a bike ride. Only a little one as I haven't touched my bike for three years. I am not one of the world's naturally co-ordinated biker riders. I hang on to the handlebars like grim death and hope no-one gets in my way, but today, I couldn't really go wrong, cycling along the promenade from the caravan site to Barmouth itself, all level, no hills or even mild slopes; my idea of an ideal cycling route. Also, the weather is lovely, no wind today, a few white, scudding clouds and....sun! We could almost be in France.

And, at the end of the prom, they even had a bench all ready and waiting with my name on. Now that's what I call service.

Another one bites the dust

Today we Keith decided that we needed to go over to Tywyn to visit Roberts the butcher. We have been there before because Keith is of the opinion that his pies are the best to be had. We even have the phone number of the shop on a sticker on the fridge. 
Well, we arrived in Tywyn, got out of the car, to be greeted by a deluge of Old Testament proportions. Knee deep in rain, we were, as we passed the local animal rescue fund-raising shop with its window display of a 1925 de-activated Colt pistol and a de-activated machine gun and I pondered briefly on the refreshing lack of attention to legal requirements of these quaint little Welsh towns.
Sadly, when we got to where we were going, we discovered that the butcher's shop has now morphed into a fishmonger's.

Keith was distraught and had to be helped immediately into the cafe next door to console himself with a coffee and slice of lemon meringue.
"We seem to have the kiss of death effect on businesses round here," he complained.
He could be right. The last time we went to Tywyn was for lunch at the Propergander, only to find that it too had closed.
Meanwhile, the weather was

well.... it was wet.

A winner!

For the past few years, Keith has done the lottery online and often won £10, which he disregarded as paltry, but which I thought was pretty good really and at least it was £10 better than nothing. However, as we both would have preferred a larger win, just a couple of million would do, I kept encouraging him, as in "You're obviously not doing it properly. Try harder!"

This morning, however, he informed me that we had won £156!

I have to inform you now that our lives will not change and we don't intend to spend it on a 5 bedroomed, detached house in a desirable area, plus a couple of top of the range cars, a yacht and private helicopter. No, we will continue to be ordinary, everyday people continuing to go about our normal, everyday lives.

To avoid disappointment, however, and because a refusal often offends, I would like to state that begging letters will be disregarded.

I know, it's tough, but there you are!