Steroids, towers and boxes. Your average week.

Posted on February 3, 2017 by thepogblog

‘This week is on steroids’ announced Himself on Tuesday.

This is because after waiting forever, a date was finally agreed on Monday for me to move out of Pog Towers and the new owner to move in.

Because things are never simple with me, I agreed a while back that I would break the chain in this house buying malarkey.  At the time it was due to the fact the lady I was buying from was moving into a nursing home and nobody knew quite when that would be.  Of course, things got a bit more complicated when I had a sudden panic about buying her house and looked for another one.  Which I found. (Hooray and third time lucky!)  But the owner of that one didn’t have a house to buy, so I still had to wait, and still had to break the chain.  And again, nobody knew how long anything would take.

But on Tuesday I got a message that he had had an offer accepted and I could start the buying process.  Cue utter chaos.

Anyway, I now have a lounge full of boxes:

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And I clearly wasn’t looking very ‘box competent’ when they were delivered as the man felt the need to show me how to assemble them:

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I also have instructions on the type of things to put in which size box (they aren’t that different….)

Anyway, in 10 days most of my worldly goods will go into storage while Norman and I move in with my Mum and Dad until I complete the house buying process and we can be grown ups again.  Let’s just say I’m looking at this as a good opportunity to collect blog material.

My plan was to get most of the house in boxes this weekend.  The flaw in that plan is that Pog Towers is so tiny that there is very little room to put the boxes once they are full.  I may have to create some weird box maze with paths to the bathroom, my bed and the front door.  If you don’t hear from me again, the boxes won.  :o)

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Fires, fun and a few incidents

Posted on January 29, 2017 by thepogblog

This weekend has been one of those of two halves – the grown up normal stuff and the Pog stuff.

Friday night, Himself and I went to a pub  in the next village along that I’ve been to once in the whole ten years I have lived here.  It smelled a bit funny, but it had an open fire that we sat next to while we chatted and had a drink.  Lovely and grown up, I think you’ll agree.

Then we went home and in an attempt to be a good girlfriend and sympathetic to the watery ears that He has been left with after a cold, I attempted to use hopi candles on him.  All was good.  So good that he dozed off.  Right up to that point where I tried to blow the candle out before submerging it in a glass of water.  As I blew, bits of the candle that were still flaming flew in a number of directions, and I kind of set fire to Him.  (It’s ok, the only lasting damage two days later is a blister on his finger from him trying to pat out one of the flames…)  I think it is testament to the trust He has in me – or his complete daftness – that He still let me do the other ear.  That time I managed to only slightly singe my own sleeve, so I’m getting there with that…

Saturday we went to the local Italian deli for lunch.  I’d not been in there to eat either, but to be fair, it’s a far lovelier experience with someone else than on your own.  We ate, then I took Him to the station as He had to get home.  I decided to go for a run – trying a route I’d not run before.  Part way round I came across an incident involving multiple blankets and a delayed ambulance.  An elderly lady had fallen into the road, forgotten everything and seemed to be being offered blankets from every passer by going.  I stayed to chat to her so the lady who called the ambulance could chase it up.  Part way though all this her husband arrived in their car.  I’m not sure he should have been driving as in the process he took out a bollard a few feet away from his wife.  Happily, he managed to stop before he got too close and was also found a blanket and a camping chair.  I had no idea so many people carried so many blankets – and chairs in their cars.  I left when a Community Responder arrived and a few moments later I saw the siren, so all was good.

About 15 minutes later though, a skateboarder hurtled past me, attempted some sort of trick and came off  quite impressively with a thud.  I thought we might have another multiple blanket and ambulance scenario, but it seemed that he mostly dented his pride…

Surely other people have quieter runs?  Surely other people manage a weekend with just the grown up things, without the events?  Ah, I’m happy with my mixture of things.

Anyway, I’d not run close to sunset before so I took a few pictures:

:o)

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Posted in Bumpkinsville, Dating, exercise, fitness, Good for you, Pog Life, Pog Pictures, Realtionships, running | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Pop! And other randomness

Posted on January 27, 2017 by thepogblog

Today I went the the doctor for my B12 injection. I have a thingy called pernicious anaemia and have to be injected every three months to stay upright /awake/able to breathe properly etc. It’s a bit of a rubbish feeling in the few weeks before the injection, but afterwards, you feel ready for anything…

Which turned out to be a good thing this morning as I left the surgery, drove out the car park and realised the car was making a distinctly ‘unhappy car’ sound.

I got out, surveyed it with my expert mechanics eye and discovered that I had a puncture. I called my local garage. They know my voice (which is worrying, as I’ve not been in there for three years) and suggested that they came to rescue me rather than me attempting to lollop back to them.  (The other alternative was that I attempted to change the wheel myself – I went on a course to learn how a few years back.  The main flaw with this though, was that there was no way I would have enough confidence in my efforts to actually drive the car afterwards, should I by some miracle actually manage to do it.  So that was out).

So I removed the cupboard of crap that it is in my boot, took out the spare wheel and waited for my knight in quite a shiny van to rescue me, which he did (hooray for lovely man in quite shiny van!).  While I waited a man walked past.  ‘Not a good time to get a puncture’ man informed me.  What I would like to know is this: When would be a good time to get a puncture?

Anyway, that was the start to my Friday.  Here are some other random pictures from the week, just because :o)

pretty iciness

pretty iciness

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Puss (almost) in boots

What 179 balls of wool look like

What 179 balls of wool look like

Canary wharf in the fog

Canary Wharf in the fog

Happy weekend :o)

 

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Goodbye, Floss

Posted on January 24, 2017 by thepogblog

My sisters probably make me laugh more than anyone else in the world.  Yesterday, Sister 1 excelled herself.

I’ve mentioned here before that every other Monday I pay her to provide ‘big house day’ (she cleans and Pog Towers seems to grow considerably in the process).  At the end of last year I forgot to leave her a Christmas tip so a few weeks back I left a little extra….which she refused to take and hid in a pot.  Yesterday was the next big house day, so on Sunday I had a think about how I could make her take the few extra pennies.  We’re all a bit soft in our family, giving personalities to animals and inanimate objects so I thought I’d play on that.  I wrapped the cash in a post-it and wrote on it that is she didn’t take it ‘a fairy would die’.  Harsh, but I felt there was no chance Sister 1 would risk it.

How wrong I was.  I got home last night to find this:

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It’s fair to say that Floss the fairy had a long life, but Sister 1, she didn’t have to go!  

I admit, it made me laugh a lot.  Not least because Sister 1 had clearly gone through my craft drawer to make Floss, complete with pink hair.

It’s the little things that amuse me :o)

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Sorry, sweetheart

Posted on January 22, 2017 by thepogblog

On Friday night I went to the pub with some of the lovely ladies I run with at the weekend.  Amongst other things, a few of us discussed the fact that we find it really hard to remember people’s names. Being particularly useless I took a look around to realise that I only knew the names of about 5 of the 20 or so running ladies and had already forgotten the names of two out of three husbands I’d been introduced to in the last thirty minutes.

Last night I went to a party. (I know. Get me and my sudden social life!) It was gorgeous godson’s dads 40th. I’ve met lots of gorgeous godson’s mum and dads friends before, but only at parties -I don’t  know any of them well. So when I arrived I stuck with gorgeous godsons aunt who is lovely, and then appointed myself photographer, so I had to move around a bit and smile and nod (There was a brilliant live band, but they were sooo loud it didn’t really allow for small talk so smiling, nodding and waving the camera in an ‘I’m going to take a photo, could you pose appropriately’ way worked quite well).

Later on I found myself partially hiding behind a curtain, people watching (I love being sober and watching people who are brilliant dancers and people who have had a couple of drinks and think they are brilliant dancers. I am under no illusions here -I fall into the latter category occasionally….)

So there I was, tapping my foot from behind the curtain and a lady I knew I know walked past. She was a lady I’d spent most of a previous party with, we had chatted enough that we could do a proper conversation now rather than just awkward introductions! I remembered she lived up North somewhere, came down occaisionally, had two kids, went to uni with gorgeous godsons mum or dad….I was on a roll here!

‘I’d not realised it was you! How are you?’

<a bit of cheek kissing>

‘Hello, I’m good thank you. You?’

And as I struggled to remember the names of her kids…or actually just the genders would have done, she said:

‘I’ve not seen you running for a while. Which days are you going on now?’

So it turned out that this lady was not the lady I was utterly convinced she was, but in a room where I didn’t know many people at all, I did know her. Apparently we spent a lot of the running Christmas party chatting together. I didn’t know whether to give myself a pat on the back for actually recognising a face or just to make a pact with myself to stay behind curtains in future…  Either way, it was nice to have two nights to chat to new people whose names I’ve forgotten already and people whose names I will never remember.  It’s nothing personal; I’m just useless. I’ll say sorry now for calling you ‘sweetheart’ if we ever meet again :o)

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The same but different

Posted on January 20, 2017 by thepogblog

You may have noticed that I really love Bumpkinsville.  The space, the greeness, the quiet (when the neighbours aren’t making enough nose for an entire town).  I love that I can appreciate it all when I run or cycle rather than being stuck in a stinky gym.  And it’s views like this that got me out of bed and into my trainers this week when the temperature hadn’t got above freezing:

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Isn’t it beautiful?

I felt a bit sad that most of the runs Himself does are in London, between the station and the office (via about a million different places by the sounds of things) – it couldn’t be as lovely, could it?  Apparently it can, just in a different way.  This is this photo He took on a run the other morning:

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Also beautiful, I think.  The same but different.

Sometimes things aren’t quite as we expect them to be, I guess.  And sometimes that is a good thing.  You still wont catch me running in the city when I have Bumpkinsville outside my front door though :o)

Happy weekend!

Posted in Bumpkinsville, Cycling, exercise, fitness, Good for you, Pog Life, running | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Admissions of a (bad) cat lady

Posted on January 19, 2017 by thepogblog

img_1916Today was weird.  For the first time in over six and a half years I was Normanless at Pog Towers.  At his last check up the vet had said his teeth were in a bit of a state (‘don’t you brush them?’ she’d asked.  I’d nearly fallen over laughing while I explained I quite like having two arms).  The cost of a feline tooth polish is ridiculous.  The only thing more ridiculous apparently is having to have teeth extracted because you didn’t have the teeth cleaned when you were told to.  So this morning I bit the bullet and we drove to the vets, Norman crying the whole way because he hates the car.

When we arrived at the vet I cried a little.  He had to go under anesthetic, and this scared me lots (once again, we must be grateful that I don’t have any actual children – you know – the sort with just two legs and a lot less fur.   I’d be a nervous wreck most of their lives).  Anyway, Norman and I were both brave, and I got to pick up a slightly confused furball with shiny teeth a short while ago.

It turns out though, that while this is my surrogate child, I don’t think things through properly in the way an actually Mummy probably would.  The nurse told me that ‘obviously’ I needed to keep him inside for 48 hours.  I’d not even considered this.  ‘I don’t have a litter tray’ I said.  ‘Hope he can cross his legs?’ she suggested.  We currently have a cat carrier partially full of litter in the middle of the lounge and I have my fingers crossed that Norman forgets it’s the same container that took him in the car of evil.

Next, the nurse told me that I needed to feed him little and often this evening and make sure it was something bland. ‘Rice and either plain chicken or plain fish’.  I don’t have chicken or fish in the house in a plain state.  I do have fish fingers though.  So I’m off now to cook Norman fish fingers and rice for his tea while he milks the fact that he has a poorly patch:

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I admit it:  I am a cat lady – even if I’m not very good at it all –  and I love my Norman.

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Cross bumpkinscountry

Posted on January 14, 2017 by thepogblog

At about 8.10am this morning a memory appeared out of nowhere. It was a memory of watching some of my secondary school class set off in a PE lesson to do cross country.  I thought they were mad.  Why on earth would anyone chose to run across fields? I have no idea what I or the friends from this memory were doing as we watched these weird class mates.  We had the same breed of hardy PE teachers everyone would have had, so I can’t imagine we were just a cheering squad on the school field – we must have been doing something else sportyish under Mrs Smith’s beady eye….

It made me smile. Because this morning I got up at 6.15am – on a Saturday! – to remove snow and ice from my car before driving to meet some of my running group for an away run.  Cross country. In temperatures that hadn’t got above zero.

This wasn’t the run of my school memory though. This was fun and chatty and absolutely beautiful. It was also bloody freezing -it actually snowed on us -, followed by boiling hot (guess who put way too many layers on?) and back to freezing when when we walked back to our cars from the coffee shop we finished at.

This cross country I can get used to though. And over 1000 calories burned before 9.30m Hooray!  (I have since baked and eaten most of a banana loaf, almost entirely guilt free) :o)

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Slightly odd….

Is it a pig? Is it Winnie the pooh's head? It's the shape we ran, anyway :o)

Is it a pig? Is it Winnie the pooh’s head? It’s the shape we ran, anyway :o)

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This week in makingness…

Posted on January 13, 2017 by thepogblog

(Sorry, these things are all rather random and the day has been too long to wind them together in a better way, so in the style of ‘showing’ / ‘show and tell’ at primary school…)

This week I’ve made:

…Cherry Pie.  And the recipe came out of my head.  It did only involve three ingredients, so I’m not sure that actually counts as a recipe but it did come out of my head and did taste ok.

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….My socks really dirty on my longest ever run (10.25km).  Three washes later my (brand new) socks have still not recovered.

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…Stripey legs.  I think they might be go faster stripes.  The day after my longest run, I did my fastest (5km in 29 minutes 47 seconds).  The three legged donkey in me who only started running last April was rather proud as back then, I couldn’t even run to the end of my road.img_1890

…My 34th dragon.  Along with some mates he’ll be off to be brave for one of the children at a local Women’s refuge soon.

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…Smiles.  I had a meeting with a horrible little man which – I’m ashamed to say – resulted in me crying in the toilet (after the meeting.  Horrible little man didn’t know, neither did anyone else).  I decided smiles were needed, even if they weren’t mine, so I bought and gave Freddo Frogs to people in the office I actually like, because who doesn’t like a Freddo Frog?  img_1902

…Snow.  Ok, I didn’t make the snow, but I had to include it as all 2 inches of it bought Bumpkinsville and Bumpkinstown and all surrounding areas to a standstill.  This amused my colleagues in Eagan – who do snow quite well – a lot.

img_1918 img_1921 :o)

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Enormousness of the calf variety

Posted on January 8, 2017 by thepogblog

My sisters and I all have a bit of a weird affliction. It’s our legs; our calves to be specific. They are big. Really big. Abnormally big. We all do a fair amount of exercise too which moves them from abnormal to enormous.

Nobody really believes the extent of this enormousness when you tell them. Clearly when I mentioned it to Himself a while back, he thought I was fishing for a compliment. The only way I could convince Him I was just trying to appraise him of the facts was to do a direct comparison between our legs. The response was something like ‘Wow. You weren’t kidding. How is that even possible?!’ (Because yes: my calves are actually bigger than his.)

Anyway, yesterday I was getting dressed and noticed the clothes he had left here a few days ago. I rather liked his t-shirt so I sent him this:

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The response? ‘Are you wearing my jeans too?’

I replied pointing out that while I do have very large legs, I would hope that his jeans would come up a bit bigger than a woman’s size 12, even if that woman’s size 12 has to be teased gently over the calf area so that no seams get split in the process. To make my point, I thought I would try them on:

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They were tight on my calves.

Hey ho. It’s not the end of the world. At least His t-shirts fit :o)

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