Breaking Stuff and Blasts From the Past

It has been head down and keep typing this week. It has been as ever interrupted by work, as I was away in Marlow again for a couple of days, but having now completed day eight of the new trip report I am fairly satisfied with the progress.

Bearing in mind the inconvenience of having to work for a living and our Breaking Bad addiction, that is fairly impressive progress! Whether the quality matches the quantity, we’ll see I suppose.

At the risk of becoming a dental bore (in addition to being a bore in general), thankfully on Thursday my current teethy troubles came to an end. Another hour in the chair saw me sweating like a single man at a Barrymore pool party, but at last it was complete.

I do not want to darken their door again for at least six months.

It has been an odd weekend as Louise has been working some crazy shifts in A&E. She was off for three days last week, but has then worked Friday, and yesterday had to endure an 8 till 10 shift. Yes, that is 8 in the morning until 10 at night. She’s in again today from 2 until 10, with similar tomorrow until a well-earned day off on Tuesday.

There is no way on earth I could be a nurse. Even forgetting some of the horrific encounters with bodily fluids, which invariably are someone else’s, those shift patterns are not for me. I tip my proverbial hat to them, and yet reserve the right to moan about my own job whenever I feel like it!

It would appear that it is once again the season for an endless litany of stuff breaking and going wrong. This week alone has seen us spring for a new tumble dryer and for a chap to come and sort some problems out on our roof. We are also waiting for a plumber to come and attend to some boiler issues, and yesterday the electrics in the bathroom seem to have gone all temperamental.  Of course I rise above these minor irritations with grace and good humour as usual.

In no way do I adopt a woe is me persecution complex and look for the nearest cat to take it out on. I think they recognise the signs of broken stuff now and make themselves very scarce.

But really, either we have bought a house which is the English equivalent of the Money Pit, or everyone has the same problems. To allow me to wang on about it, I refuse to believe the second option.

Money Pit
A typical day

Earlier today my Mum came round with some photos she’s found whilst doing a clear out. It was great to see some from our early WDW trips, not only to prove that I once had a fringe but also to see how things have changed. There were also a number of the girls that just show how time flies.

Taken yesterday
Taken yesterday

This one shows Emily and two cousins. Emily is sporting a Phoenix Nights style painted face, but luckily hers came off.

This one is from the first time we took the girls in 1999.

Party like it's 1999
Party like it’s 1999

Sarah, the blonde girl nearest the camera is now in her early twenties, lives with her boyfriend and is studying to be a teacher. Sigh.

At some point my Dad is going to scan in all these old photos to make sure they are safe, and hopefully then I’ll post a few more and you can marvel at my hairline and short shorts in some Disney photos from the late 80’s. Steady yourselves ladies.

There are even some “promo shots” from when I was in a band. It is all pouts and cheekbones. Yes, even I had some.

Right, I am on tea making duty, and there are teenagers faking death to pressure me into giving them food. Clearly they can’t locate the kitchen.

Till the next time…..

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