"Allternative weekend"

FFS its 22.30 and Ive only just sat down
 - gym club navigated and sodding cubs -tree recognition exercises in the local woods,now ,coffee in hand Planet rock on the radio and tommorows dinner in the oven-a cheeky dish I call - "Fiarview House country Lamb casserole/hot pot stew that can be re-heated post bastard ballet and pre-"classmates birthday party" - a outside pool party starting at 7pm FFS -whats was wrong with a caterpillar cake and "pass the parcel wrapped in newspaper" straight after school style party?  the dish could also be called "What the fuck shall I do with that half leg of lamb I defrosted and got to mashed on cheap cider to be bothered to cook"-cant really see that one lining up in Jamie's next "school dinners" especially as I put a whole bottle of chianti in it-anyway back to the sub plot...Alternatives - no I'm not going to whinge about the fucking useless wind turbine that sprouted up outside a local village which hasn't turned its prime mover but has lined the pockets of several equally useless "non -executive board members" who just happen to be on the planning committee-that's just reminded, me whilst watching "Revenge of the Sith" the 8 year old commented that "Anakin would have been OK if he hadn't listened to the dark side of the politician"

Anyway back to topic-

Shades of grey-"that book" a fellow Scimitar owner and forum "user" posted up some excerpts from an Alternative (got there eventually) version that needed mention on this blog-

The novel "Fifty Shades Of Grey" has seduced women - and baffled blokes.
Now a spoof, Fifty Sheds Of Grey, offers a treat for the men.

The book has author Colin Grey recounting his love encounters at the bottom of the garden.



Here are some extracts...

Fifty Sheds Of Grey

We tried various positions - round the back, on the side, up against a wall...
but in the end we came to the conclusion the bottom of the garden was the only place for a good shed.


She stood before me, trembling in my shed.
"I'm yours for the night," she gasped, "You can do whatever you want with me."
So I took her to McDonalds.


She knelt before me on the shed floor and tugged gently at first, then
harder until finally it came.
I moaned with pleasure. Now for the other boot.


Ever since she read THAT book, I've had to buy all kinds of ropes, chains and shackles.
She still manages to get into the shed, though.


"Put on this rubber suit and mask," I instructed, calmly.
"Mmmm, kinky!" she purred.
"Yes," I said, "You can't be too careful with all that asbestos in the shed roof."


"I'm a very naughty girl," she said, biting her lip. "I need to be punished."
So I invited my mum to stay for the weekend.


"Harder!" she cried, gripping the workbench tightly. "Harder!"
"Okay," I said. "What's the gross national product of Nicaragua ?"


I lay back exhausted, gazing happily out of the shed window.
Despite my concerns about my inexperience, my rhubarb had come up a treat.


"Are you sure you can take the pain?" she demanded, brandishing stilettos.
"I think so," I gulped. "Here we go, then," she said, and showed me the receipt.


"Hurt me!" she begged, raising her skirt as she bent over my workbench.
"Very well," I replied. "You've got fat ankles and no dress sense."


"Are you sure you want this?" I asked. "When I'm done, you won't be able to sit down for weeks."
She nodded.
"Okay," I said, putting the three-piece suite on eBay.


"Punish me!" she cried. "Make me suffer like only a real man can!"
"Very well," I replied, leaving the toilet seat up.


"Pleasure and pain can be experienced simultaneously," she said, gently
massaging my back as we listened to her Coldplay CD


Speaking of alternatives some of you may have noticed that Pilton music festival was on this weekend- ie "Glastonbury" - I noted the BBC were providing  lots of coverage to make sure the corporation  didn't have to pay out £25M to disgruntled sound techs who didn't get the chance to get on the free "jolly" of looking up Jo Whileys  skirt for the weekend

I don't know how "alternative" Glastonbury can be called anymore with the crowd made up of middle aged accountants and bankers, a lock down  exclusion zone of 10 miles set up and manned by private security staff around the site - I over heard I colleague at grown up work today describe that after a spot of bird watching (great crested marsh mouse eating hawk or something) he could hear the music about 5 miles away,knowing the area he decided on the way  home to park up on a hill overlooking the site and soak in a bit of the atmosphere- this is a guy who watched the Stones  at Knebworth in 76- a famous concert in which many thought they were up staged by lynyrd skynyrd anyway he wasn't allowed along the road he wanted-his path blocked by "security" this was about 5 miles away from the entrance- I guess people want their £250 a ticket investment protected- but not really in the spirit of "Festival" though is it?
We decided to get into the "spirit "- here are some of my posts over the weekend- for some reason they were not  relayed  to the BBC dedicated  streaming website ...

"Not wiling to fork out £250 per person for tickets for Pilton festival we created that "Glastonbury" feeling down the road at our house - so the kids get a realistic experience we set up a tee pee in the living room,and will be watching/listening to events via 6 music,Ive left a massive floater from this morning in the downstairs toilet and have taken to pissing in the garden in full view of the neighbors, in the kitchen we have organic microwave curry reasonably priced at £9.50 per portion -well you cant put a price on the planet can you?- wine is £14 per bottle and £5 a pint of cider - the kids are complaining about the prices but I explained the nearest supermarket is a 9 mile walk ..

 We are keeping it real here at "Little Festival" -this morning I made the children Que up outside the downstairs toilet for 2 hrs whilst I floated a curry and cider biscuit ,Charlotte flashed her breasts to gain access to the "posh toilets" in the "Glamping" section,we will be sending the children out later to beg for gin money so we can get mashed in silence watching mandolin mashers "Mumford and son"

"Just to stay in the spirit of things today on "Come down Monday"- after work I picked up the kids from school filled the car with dirty camping gear then proceeded to drive round  like a "twat" looking for clearly signposted directions to the M5 - then ignored them and carried out  random 5 point turns in my pretend 22ft converted 70s postal "camper van"  blocking the A38 and A39 almost simultaneously" 

Here are some more ammusing alternative comments on the proceedings

http://www.thepoke.co.uk/2013/06/29/twitter-reacts-to-glastonbury/

On the house bashing front I managed to break away from watching 69 year old men dressed in "sensible" shoes purchased from the back of the daily mail and wearing clothes thrown at them in a 1996 Oxfam shop and tried to get the 3 year olds room finished -please can I have a  bit of my life back again ... ....oh  I fucking hate skirtigsoddingbastard boards 

Fuck it

bastard bollocks etc

Its been a while since my last post of any substance,-not that any of my rantings really have any substance –my excuse is I have been busy with the following-Going to grown up work,House bashing,Daddy duty and desperately trying to get some Shed therapy (see the other blog shedtune cars for movements in the shed)

Some progress has been made on the house –we may have an operating Bathroom in the main house by Christmas 2020,-that's after Ive sold my last working kidney to pay a fucking plumber to make a decent job of it- and the 3 year old  may be able to move into his bedroom in time for his 18^th birthday-just in time to move out with any luck

Ive been enjoying “grown” up work its allowed me to mingle with grown ups that share my grumpy outlook on the modern “everything is shite” world ,although I'm still shouting at the telly and swearing at stupid twats on the radio

Daddy duty has been following the same old routines-

Bastard ballet and Sodding Cubs providing the biggest logistical nightmares –I have to admit Ballet has become easier thanks to teaming up with another parent running the “Pink Tutu gauntlet” 

 A particularly high maintenance  morning /school run in which all three little angels where being bloody high maintenance -  3 year old became freaked by a spider in the downstairs toilet (I often get freaked by that downstairs toilet and if it wasn’t for the Classic car publications in there I wouldn’t use it either) so he  decided to pee in my wellie boot in the adjacent utility room- 8 year old ate his breakfast in silence then went back to bed without me knowing - I was busy emptying piss filled boots and mopping floors,all whilst trying to prepare 3 off packed lunches that didn’t consist of just a packet of jammy dodgers each. Hence we were running late as I pulled out the drive and  the 5 year old announced she had forgot to put a vest on…

 Rather than sell the kids on eBay I offered to place my self up for auction-

“Used Father of three, reasonable working order, could do with some maintenance, comes with own shed and hand tools”

I was heartened to hear replies from the behind me of “we would buy you”

How true .....

"But also accept that others are complete numpties and have never achieved a degree in/of common sense, they still get paid though" Anon 2013

FFS,,more ranting, Wayne Roney MP ? from the mouths of babes

In my head this morning - this was going to happen today-

Take kids to school/nursery 

Go to grown up world do some  good work

Pick up kids -survive the Bastard Ballet/Tesco's donuts  run

Cook dinner,wash children, clean up get them to bed early

Evening- do useful things in peace -IE post pictures of sheds and Billie Piper on www.shedtune.co.uk,write up car progress blog,file house renovation pictures,back up lap top, tidy picture files on hard drive-all that sort of stuff you know you should do but never do - our picture files in the hard drive span years and resemble a "virtual bowl of shame"-every house has one- a fruit bowl on a sideboard somewhere containing flat AA batteries,snapped terminal screwdrivers,keys that don't fit anything that's been  in your possession for the last 10 years and always  parts of  broken "free" plastic toys that came with children's "comics" (why is it when you put the sodding pretend plastic spider man watch ,with  snapped strap and integral choking hazard into the bin  you can guarantee the next visitor to the bin will be the child owner of aforementioned dross ,they spot the detritus you thought was safely off loaded to landfill  and set about emptying the bin an emotional wreck trying to rescue the bloody thing ) 

So how did things pan out in real time rather than in my head?

Grown up world went OK apart from I got side tracked by fucking Samsung world again - I wanted to top up my Tesco's pay as you go - I use the phone so rarely that thankfully I don't do this much- anyway I couldn't remember how to do it on line -ah I though use the phone ..dial the free number speak to a person, one snag,its a useless crap phone with a touch screen- to top up you have to press "number 2" once through to the automated service- it took me two attempt's to work out how to access the "keypad" whilst on call, once pressed the phone shit itself thinking I was trying to make another call and displayed "INVALID APP" meanwhile the calming automated voice kept saying "we haven't detected a selection thus will end the call please phone blah blah if you are having difficulties " oh FFS It was made worse by the fact that my sausage fingers had somehow put it on loudspeaker- not good in an open plan office ..a sharp strike to the desk ejecting  the battery when the bastard wouldn't turn off did the trick
I eventually topped it up online after a Google search  revealed that the place to top it up is not in fact
https://www.mytescomobile.com/
but 
https://topup.tescomobile.com/ConsWeb/LandingStrip/TMLogin.aspx

Jesus Christ why make things so difficult ? why cant web sites, and phones for that matter have a "Luddite" button
In comparison the  childcare that followed was a doddle apart from one small glitch- on the way to  donut isle the 3 year old spotted "magazines" displaying all his favorite plastic choking hazards at £4 a shot -no bloody chance I thought, you lay there and head bang the floor in rage whilst I go get the donuts 

Needless to say Ive been wasting time writing this tosh rather than doing the "bowl of shame" jobs I should be doing 

From the mouths of babes- 

On a recent Saturday morning drive to take the 8 year old  fencing -don't ask- the conversation was C02 emissions - he wants to build an air powered car- I explained that he would need power to compress the air to drive the car etc, anyway, unusually for me  I mentioned that politicians are the biggest problem in the clean energy argument ,as they are only interested in being greedy rather than fixing things -that's why you should always think very carefully who you vote for and make a politician or prime minister  etc ... he thought for a while and then said
"It wouldn't be a good idea for Wayne Rooney to be a politician would it?" 

On a lighter note this was spotted on the fridge door tonight

Well roll on Wednesday - no pack lunches to make in the morning, no after school activities- I may even get time not to address the "bowl of shame" items on the list

To busy to rant,ironic dissatisfaction test.

Its been far too long since my last post -this year I did intend to update the blog at least once a week or so, but like all good intentions Ive been to busy being grumpy to be arsed

-So busy in fact I haven't even had the opportunity to shout at the television, which happens a lot,I even shout at the hateful thing when its switched off,this happens when I urgently need to distract the 3 year old with "Mr tosser Tumble" to prevent him "helping Daddy" by falling through the bathroom floor/kitchen ceiling whilst I try to stop the bathroom floor falling into the kitchen of its own accord-you can guarantee I cant find the fucking remote control,when I do find it the batteries have been removed (as like all remotes the battery compartment lid is missing, this is a ploy by the manufactures to allow 8 year old children easy access to the "AA" gems inside, apparently these can be used to power messy experiments in their bedrooms) or to really hack you off the batteries have been put back in with the polarities reversed-  the 5 year old hasn't grasped the physics involved with electron flow (which actually goes negative to positive for our electrician friends) of course you haven't noticed this oversight on the "little angels" behalf and stand in front the telly, swearing, pressing buttons moving closer to the sodding screen- as that's going to make it work?- looking a right twat when  you realise you have fallen for the old "back to front battery trick" ..again.
Meanwhile the people you were trying to distract have marched off with fisher price tool set in hand ready to impale the nearest 240v socket they can find..its at this point I pledge to anyone who will listen that if they take the batteries out the remote again the "telly" will go on the bonfire, with this I put the remote out of reach- in a safe place as far away from the television and small people as possible- within seconds-normally when I am standing at the top of the stairs thinking "why have I come up here?"  I have forgotten where that place is,thus the whole thing starts again ..
When I have the misfortune of having the bastard thing switched on by someone more competent than me,the type of programs that makes me shout and leave the room are those sodding "real life" documentaries- I particularly  dislike the one filmed in east London somewhere- all the subjects seemed to have married each other twice, shagged their sons wife,served time for several serious crimes,never done a days work and are always pissed up in the local- Christ you couldn't write it, there is  an even a Northern version  were the pub burns down alternate weeks to the local underpants factory.

So with my normal spleen venting avenue denied by not even having time to sit down I have taken to shouting at emails from slack jawed employees of the company providing me my website package, I wont mention the company name but let me assure you the fuckwits in the billing department couldn't add up 1+1,they couldn't grasp  I didn't want the full on "internet shopping basket filling escrow high security intiwebby experience site" shite, I just wanted the basic 99p a month deal to let me write about quirky rusty old British cars, post pictures up of wooden sheds, greasy gearboxes,and  Billie Piper draped around Daleks so they decided to bill me for a £30 a month package anyway-setting up two accounts?! Then sending me arsey emails demanding payment - here is a copy of my last reply to them (this is after an agonizingly long explanation via several departments that I only wanted the basic windows package,and that was in fact the one I was using which was  paid for etc etc ...you get the picture -honestly you would rather eat light bulbs than listen to the whole saga-

Dear Mr Billing department

Have you gone completely bonkers? yet again another reminder came from you today in the post let me write this in big letters so you understand or would you prefer  something posted and  written in crayola?

IT HAS BEEN PAID ! see below and DON'T BOTHER ME AGAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!

 Their reply

"Our records indicate the balance was paid as of 2013-04-02 07:20:19. If the date of the notice sent to you by post is before that date I apologise for any inconvenience. Letters are automatically sent out and it would then have been just prior to the balance being paid and took until now to be delivered to your door."

My reply

"I thought you were not going to bother me again?"


Their reply

 
On .09.05.2013 you, or one of your colleagues, contacted our billing department.
We are constantly striving to improve our service performance and your opinion is greatly appreciated.
You can help us by evaluating our service at:
(This is where the cheeky sods posted a link to a customer satisfaction survey)
This will only take a minute or two of your time.


My reply

Many thanks for sending me your feed back survey, unfortunately I don't want to give you a minute or two of "my time" I was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me a few minutes of "your time?" As I have wasted all my time talking to the intellectual wasteland that appears to be your billing department.
 They seem to reside in a slightly different space time continuum to the rest of the human race they are trying to deal with? 
That aside I have compiled my own "survey" for you to complete this will allow me to measure how well I performed as a pissed off customer-please see below-

Did you find my response to your irritating survey....(please tick one)

• Helpful?
• Ironic?
• Witheringly sarcastic?
• I don't know what irony is?
• I ignored it,it had long words.

To help me decide if I should keep contacting you so you have to send me more "customer satisfaction" surveys could you rate my annoyance to you on a scale of 1 to 10 

• 1 being mild
• 10 being as annoying as piles on a long distance train journey across the Indian sub-continent 

 
 
 Well that's if for today, its a full on week of Daddy duty,I survived after school Gym today followed by sodding Cubs- just got the ordeal of bastard Ballet to get through tomorrow so need to get some sleep, I didn't even get round to commenting on UKIP going for a pint in Scotland ...may be tomorrow  if I can be arsed thinking of a story that starts something like this ...
"what did the fascist say to the other fascist whilst having a pint in his pub?"
"Do you serve nationalists in here?"

Scotch Mist,Trade demarcations explained,soapy coffee car wash

Dont poke a bees nest..or a a Highland correspondent who spends too much time alone walking up hills, being grumpy and thinking too much- after his shocking Panda revelations it seems he has got a bee in his bonnet about something else - I really need to have a word with his responsible adult,this was his latest offering-

 Scotlands New Currency 

 

 

 "I see there's a new point of contention on Scottish independence: Scotland says it can stay with the pound, but wants to keep printing it's own (which obviously doesn't have the words 'Bank of England' clearly printed on notes) which are currently printed by the three main Scottish Banks. I say 'Scottish' banks, while acknowledging that the Clydesdale Bank is owned by Australians, Bank of Scotland is English owned, and Royal Bank of Scotland is the laughing stock of the western world, and appears to be principally owned by taxpayers living south of the border. 

Personally, I believe we need to think more pragmatically. How about we introduce multiple forms of currency: most obviously, benefits cheques - they form the very backbone of our financial system here in the skiving north, and so the great majority of people would just continue as normal. Food stamps would be the second string of the new financial system, and the third leg (didn't good old Rolf, my childhood hero, invent this??) would be Stella Artois ring pulls and extra strong White Lightning cider bottle tops. Simples. And as we all know, simples suits Alex the Salmon and his bunch of fish farm rejects.  

Thinking ahead, we can also cut the extortionate costs of setting up the Brave New Nation by having the DSS double up as the central bank. Hey, this could go so much further. What about selling episodes of the comic-tragedy 'Holyrood: the Debate' to the Comedy Channel? I really, really, really hope you've not managed to catch any of this redneck soap south of the border; it looks like a playground full of very angry, yet terminally bored, primary school children, arguing over who's marble it is, why its not round, who gets to hold it, and why its got mysterious (and smelly) brown stains on it. Oh, and there's a big crack through it, which only gets bigger, and bigger. So hey, who's going to reallocate money from the nationwide methadone project to fix it????

Now, back to my pet topic. How extraordinary that Scotland managed, among all the Giant Pandas out there, to find the pair that so perfectly reflected the Scottish work ethic! 36 hours of work per year! I know there are parts of the West Coast where that would be considered an inhumane level of effort, but give Highlanders their due - I'm pretty sure they could handle this. So, our great leader, Salmo Salmo I think is the right way of addressing his mighty drabness,  thinks that, after his recent proclamations on how the main men of Europe would bend over backwards to welcome Scotland into the fold of the oh-so-successful Euro currency, he can deftly shift his foreplay onto the Bank of England. I wonder if, down your way where people wear clothes and can afford to eat, there's a sense of a despotic nutter trying to cash in (literally) on someone else's efforts? But never forget, I said NEVER FORGET, that the North Sea oil is ours. OURS, OURS, OURS.

Did you hear me?

So please. please, can you help us? We are nice people, and we don't understand all those foreign-bus-tour types who look Oriental and don't speak English, sorry, Gaelic, but love to visit our (oh hell, so, yes, they are not ours, they belong to Diageo, Pernod Ricard, and a whole other bunch of Johnny Foreigners) distilleries. 

I sense that I've come full circle, and am in danger of stamping the document that confirms that I've lost the plot.

I wish you well, all you lucky muckers, you scheming Southern bastards who are stealing my money, who are taking my proud nation (see Australian actor shouting at and encouraging his band of 3 flea-infested sheep-rustling followers to take up small claims court actions against the mother of all imperial empire builders) to the landfill.

Even I, father of the calm, home of peace, lair of the decent and honest but downtrodden, think I am losing the aforementioned marbles.

I hasten me to the shed to sharpen my Claymore (yes, check that out; it didn't work for us at Culloden) and to daub myself with Tesco blue fabric coloring.

Blue Dye

Man in Skirt

Giant Panda in skirt awaiting blue dye and foreplay from "Salmon" fish to allow entry into her system

 So that's foreign politics dealt with for another week lets move on to Trade Demarcations the link below is for all the "Professional" job agencies that don't seem to know what an Instrumentation Tech is and all the twats -normally call center staff once employed under Mr Blair's "lets get everyone a pretend job to make me look good policy" trouble is these people have now had asperations above cleaning out the Panda enclosures at the local Zoo and "moved up a notch" now manning the policy amendments phone line where I inevitably have the misfortune to insure my car, they just cant help themselves querying the profession "oh you work in the music industry...not sure if we cover people in entertainment" 

 

Whats all this got to do with soapy coffee? well it was more than likely a failed spanner monkey that installed the rubber seal on the Land Rovers sun roof- his workmanship was put to test  whilst I was wasting time in the car wash trying to get the 3 year old and 5 year old asleep on route to picking up the 8 year old from sodding cubs- soapy car wash water was forcefully blown into my forecourt coffee sitting in the cup holder -who the fuck builds a British car with a sun roof above the cup holder? as sure as your arse points downwards you know it will leak and contaminate your dashboard mounted beverage,for some reason whilst recovering from my unplanned ablutions I wondered how many engineers are in the Government cabinet or even the shadow cabinet - a very quick Google search -something dim witted call center staff don't seem able to do- revealed nothing useful so I looked further into cabinet members qualifications -not a good thing to do 

I would suggest they could all be replaced by a cactus 

Milking Pandas, Ms Piggy,Tree Hugging Bench ... 

Its been awhile since the last communication from the Highland correspondent,I must admit I was starting to get a bit worried that he might have been rounded up and molested by angry fish faced sheep since his last political musings , but as luck would have it he is at large and sent the following to Shed HQ-

"How on earth do you milk a Panda bear for the "juice" for artificial insemination..?I was rather more interested in warming up the "Babe" panda,I would have thought they needed a bit of foreplay,and sent my offer with a recent photo to Edinburgh Zoo,and now after eight hours with the Police I can get on with my life.

Who would have thought?Up here in the Highlands bestiality is encouraged-they say it keeps the locals sane (and reduces the burden on the NHS)"

He has obviously been allowed access to some form of media coverage recently as the above was quickly proceeded by the following-

"Stroke of genius -we've got Miss Piggy to represent UK in the Eurovision"

Back to the Pandas the lady "Babe" bear is only on heat for around 36 hrs or so  a year, and even then not too fussed about getting an early night, I reckon we should explain to the work shy Panda couple our benefits system in the UK-then they would be at it like rats up a drain pipe- pointing out the more cubs they have, the more cash they have,cash  to waste on Sky subscriptions, tattoos and KFC,they could spend the day watching Jeremy Kyle as much they want on expensive Ipads whilst  doing fuck all else useful  in accommodation the public has paid for ...bit like fish faced sheep really.

Well thats current affairs dealt with so back to reality.Three kids and the "Bastard Ballet" run which has become a bit less of a bastard due to a very kind parent of a fellow tutu student (a non range rover "Jordan" type) agreeing to return "pink princess" after the stampeding session,the payoff is I transport her offspring to the class where she meets us,last week was the first run of this new arrangement,unfortunately I had become  preoccupied with crumbling internal walls and left the house for "school pick up" in a bit of a rush leaving the lurid pink change bag containing the "pink mafias  uniform for my said princess -"Buggery Bollocks" I though waiting outside the school-I wanted to demonstrate to the Mother who had left me the charge of her children I wasn't a complete fuckwit so took it upon myself to load up the old TD5 with 5 kids (only 3 of them mine) nail it back home pick up the sodding Tutu,then nail it back to the "Dance School" before I was reported for Child abduction - needless to say spirits were high in the car-especially from the boys asking for more air as the peat bog undulating single track roads provided the entertainment -the three year old shouting faster whilst bracing himself between booster seat and  door then trying to use his sisters ponytailed hair as a grab handle.

We made the lesson just about on time,the "Range rover evoque" brigade cast a few disapproving looks as grubby "builder looking type" waded in with five hyper kids then promptly did a runner leaving three of them behind - the three year  old could be seen punching the air making his way across the car park shouting "Donuts" 

Soon after moving into the faded georgian grandeur of our house with romantic ideas of a restored family home within a "couple of years"  a tree hugger from the council pointed out that the 130 year old "monkey puzzle" tree in the front garden had a T.P.O on it -but as the normally evergreen tree had now turned  a permanent rusty brown it was deemed  dangerous if left to fall on  its own accord and thus had to be chopped down -we duly complied not wanting the thing through the house

I had some of the felled timber planked up "It might be useful" I thought and then used it as a bloody heavy obstruction under a temporary "seasoning shed" in the drive for the next three years -well today I got to use some of it 

After successfully overheating my £40 rip saw several times the shed had a new work bench , Douglas pine legs -left over from roof strengthening works,and "monkey puzzle" (see chilean pine or parana pine) 45mm thick work top

Time to sign off - Ballet run tomorrow, Tutu change bag already loaded in the car..

Getting up early ,back to "normal" ...bollocks

 I needed to get up early...

Mainly to have time to wash and get pack lunches and small people ready for school, and my self ready for intergration with grown up people-hence the wash- so after setting two alarms on the Samsung "six day phone" -see previous comments on my theory regarding Samsung's perception of time -one of them managed to wake me in time for "back to work" routine -well back to" going to a place of work" where other grown ups go - I was quite looking forward to seeing if I could in fact interact with grown ups rather than constantly discussing why cows don't fly with my 3 year old Son - I have to explain it is in fact bird poo on the car windscreen- not cow poo from overhead-he isn't convinced, claiming that it smells of cow poo,even after I point out that the whole area smells of cow poo due to the fact we live in boonie land, where farmers tow big trailers of poo (normally using his favorite red tractors) spraying it over great swathes of land as the weather has been so "cow poo" that the poor cows haven't been allowed outside for a year or so for fear of drowning, or if lucky freezing to death,the standard response to my answers is  "why Daddy?" and so it goes on.. hence why I was looking forward to non "why Daddy" conversation this week.
Unfortunately I will have to wait as the work I am wanted for is on a temporary contract basis  in the public sector as you know the Government has wisely diverted  resources to cover bankers bonuses rather than mending stuff that could save money- so hence  it needs to be tick boxed at several inappropriate high levels across the organization before I can start -I had a sneaky suspicion this may happen and phoned ahead to see if the OK had been given to start, the conversation with my potential team leader made me laugh-
 "Sorry mate it looks like starting next week, David is just off to see Angela Merkel to ask if he can sign the authorization"

Not to worry Ive got plenty to be doing here, so after pouring fresh coffee over myself when the handle fell off the sodding cafeteria

 I ended up helping Dave and Ade being a third pair of hands balancing on a scaffold plank (I was allocated the plank after being told I was the youngest!) fixing full size sheets of plaster board to form the stairwell ceiling -you never know tomorrow we might loose the open plan first floor and have a bathroom wall again
 I also took the opportunity as it wasn't pissing down or blowing a -5  wind from the east to wash and clean out the Spitfire and take some decent pictures of it in an attempt to sell it without pimping it on eBay,something which means enduring 100 watchers, 50 unanswered (silly) questions,5 tire kickers, and 2 no shows that eBay attracts, and then when it does sell pay the dreaded listing fees,so Ive punted it in the free adds of the weekly classic car press and put it in the for "sale in the shed" section of www.shedtune.co.uk

As ever it fired up first time, the sun came out as I put the roof down -it was so tempting to go for a blast but I knew if  I did the ads would be deleted and I would be devising ways of keeping it whilst doing without a new bath, or ways of selling a kidney/child- to fund the other projects in the shed in need of my help.

This or a Kidney

Well time to set the alarm(s) - at least I don't have to get up as early- just pack lunches to make rather than wash- and to think I had ear,nose,and head hair cut in preparation for work..I hope dear old Angela can see me right before it grows back.

"Biggest nose hair Ive seen in years"

 

Old dog new tricks...? why bother the old ones still work.

In between Easter holiday Daddy duties- which has included many motorway miles in old faithful (13 year old Discovery TD5) which now resembles a mobile skip full of Mc Donalds "kids meals toys" empty opal fruit -sorry "starburst" wrappers,and the annoying red wax- stripped from dozens of babybel rolled up into small balls to be  inserted into electrical switches, seat belt buckles and air vents- I managed to resurrect the Shedtune website -all work in progress but the aim is to keep everything  on the website in a messy "eclectic grumpy virtual shed way"

The kids are making the most of a rain free Cumbria and lots of generous hospitality from Aunties,Uncles Cousins,Grannies and Grandpas-(hence why Daddy has had time to clump his way round sorting out the website and trying to master windows sodding 8 on the new laptop-why change things for the sake of changing things-Christ XP worked fine ....)

Back at home bashing goes on without me -

Dave and Ade taking on the stuff I couldn't do with kids running around -as you can see this internal single skin wall which was never tied into ...anything was beyond rescue so the first floor section will come down to be replaced with studding wall -which at least will allow for some insulation to be added.

I'm off to clean out wax from the air vents in preparation for tomorrows return journey..