Bradley Malfunctions 2

Well, it’s cold.  Especially when you are lacking on the hair front.  (I’d take my hat off to all the men who have done baldy heads in -5 over a number of years, but frankly, my ears may get frost bite).

I’ve been having a few Bradley based fun and games over the last few weeks.  He’s still too tight, but it’s getting better.  I think.  I’ve learned a few things too:

Sit on hands when offered a compliment:  Just because someone is nice about my new hair doesn’t mean that they ‘know’.  In fact, often they don’t.  I must learn to accept compliments rather than saying ‘thank you.  But you know it’s a wig, right?’ as I lift the front off my scalp to demonstrate and terrify the complimenter in the process.

Be aware of surroundings: 17 hours is way too long to wear Bradley in one go.  Deciding that the pain is intolerable in Tesco car park (even if it is 10pm) before getting to the car is not a great idea.  I pulled him off just as I was leaving the store thinking it was empty outside.  It turned out that a lot of Tesco staff were having a cigarette break not too far away.  There may now be a number of traumatised Tesco employees in the Bumpkinsville store.

If you don’t ask you don’t get.  But you need to be careful how you ask:   I had to have some professional photos taken at work the other day.  I’m not photogenic and don’t like posing but I did it and all was good.  Then the conversations went like this:

Me: Could I ask a favour? If it’s inappropriate, you can say so

Photographer:  Ok….

Me:  Who else sees these photos?  Is it just you and me?

Photographer: Erm. Yes…

(I think at this point, based on the look on his face, he thought I was about to ask for some…ahem….glamour shots)

Me:  Great.  Would you mind taking just one like this….

And I whipped Bradley off.  I’m not sure if he was relieved or shocked.  Either way, he recovered rapidly and I now have these photos to give you a giggle.

transvestite Pog

transvestite Pog

baldy Pog (spot the wig indentations...)

baldy Pog (spot the wig indentations…)

Maybe I shouldn’t have sent them both to my boss to say I was unsure which I should use as my profile picture.  Thankfully she has a sense of humour though.

And one final thing.  I think I need a nightcap (hat rather than drink).  I’ve taken to wearing my woolly hat all day when I am at home and Bradley-less, but it is SO cold when I go to bed, I have to keep my head under the duvet.  That would be ok but at the moment I have a duvet, a quilted blanket, two normal blankets and a furry throw.  I worry that I may get trapped under the weight of them.  Hmmm.  Maybe the answer is the other sort of night cap.  I’ll try that one tonight :o)

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Pud Tats (sorry Dog Bods)

Not much tends to happen (at least for me) at the start of January, so the choice of blog post topics tonight are cats or Bradleys.  As, I imagine,  more of you have a cat than a Bradley (and I don’t want to bore you any more with my baldiness quite yet) I’m going with cats.

Because there has been A LOT of cat things around of late.

As a wise lady commented, this is proportionally about right on the relative importance of cats versus the rest of the household

As a wise lady commented, this is proportionally about right on the relative importance of cats versus the rest of the household

Just before Christmas Sister 2 and I got rather involved with a local cat which didn’t seem to be allowed inside his own house.  We’ve done everything we can (including getting him a space in a local cat rescue place) but after a slightly awkward conversation with his owner he decided not to sign him over and instead unblock the cat flap (!) and keep us up to date with his cat care.  Pud, as we have called him, seems to want none of this, instead preferring the home we gave him…possibly because he can see both our front doors from there and pops in when he fancies (Norman is not impressed by this, obviously).  At least Pud is happier though than when he was locked out and we were finding him shivering outside in all weathers with no shelter.

Pud at home

Pud at home

Meanwhile, I think Norman has been learning to develop opposable thumbs.  I have a small wicker basket with a loop on the  lid.  I’ve watched as he hooks his claws into the loop, removes the lid and unpacks the sewing in there.  Then the other night I was trimming sewing threads with a tiny pair of scissors and he perfected the art of picking them up.  He put his claws in the handle, picked them up and waved them around a bit.  I found this disconcerting….where could it go next?  Sister 2 though saw the bright side….maybe I can start training him to help with poggyW makingness…

And here are a couple of You Tube videos that people have posted this week that made me laugh (sound needed for both).  If you’re more of a dog person, this might appeal:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbycvPwr1Wg

pud 3

But if you’re a real cat bod (or just want a laugh), take a look at this one.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3iFhLdWjqc

pud 2

Right, I’m off to do some Norman training :o)

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The Pog Blog in 2012

I was asked by a wise friend over Christmas if I would do a blog summary for 2012.  Events rather overtook, but better late than never I thought I’d do it now.

I my view of the blog I can see how many people read my ramblings each day, the counties people are from and how they land on the page.  The results amaze me.  This is a list of countries that visitors are from:

blog1

That is a lot of orange!

blog2

The bit that makes me smile though, is the things people search on…and that those terms land them here.  These are some of the more odd ones:

  • Sensible knickers
  • Ear wigging
  • Biscuitmen up
  • Pog diy
  • Genius muffins
  • Daftness
  • Screaming shrews
  • Broken pog
  • Lopping balls off
  • Flumps exercising

And my two favourites, just because it makes you wonder what is in peoples heads:

  • Pog leg wont tighten
  • Dating antique singer sewing machine

Why would anyone consider dating a sewing machine?! Still, it does reassure me that there are a few people out there dafter than me.  It’s just it’s slightly worrying that the internet decides that the Pog Blog is the answer to that daftness… Thank you for reading in 2012 and contributing to my numbers.  And  if one of those search terms are yours….well, the less said the better! :o)

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A few Bradley malfunctions

When I wrote my last post I wasn’t sure how it would be taken.  I can’t put into words how lovely the messages I had on here, Facebook, text and e-mail were…thank you so much.  I think one of the favourite comments I had was informing me that I have ‘balls the size of space hoppers’.  That made me laugh a lot…but I have to say it’s not helped my conviction that I am looking a little like a transvestite with Bradley in place.

I wont blog on this every time but I thought you might like an update on our first few days together.

We had our first social outing on New Years Eve when I went to Gorgeous Godsons mum and dads house for a lovely dinner with some of their friends.  The friends didn’t know any of this so I used it as a bit of a test.  I think we passed although it turns out that Bradley is a bit of a limpet and got rather tight on my head.  At one point I rushed upstairs into the bathroom, pulled him off…and discovered a distinct lack of mirrors to use to help me pop him back on….  Happily I found one in my friends’ bedroom and Bradley was restored.

On Wednesday I decided to work from home, partly to make sure I could keep Bradley on for a full working day somewhere that I could take him off if needed, and partly because I am a total chicken.  Just as I was about to get in the shower the postman rung the doorbell.  Rather than take the sensible option and wrap a towel around my baldy head, I threw Bradley on and went for the ‘it’s-morning-and-I’ve-not-brushed-my-hair-yet’ look.  Mr Postman gave me some really odd sideways looks as I signed for the parcel.  I discovered why when I walked back into the bathroom.  Bradley was perching at an interesting angle and so far back on my head that a lot of the shaved part showed.  Hey ho…I guess I needed one serious malfunction this week.

Yesterday I went into the office.  It wasn’t a full office but the lovely girls who knew what was going on were all there and were amazing.  It took me until 2.15pm to work out how to put my glasses on without them getting caught in the wig framework thing and I did spend a lot of the day with my fingers between scalp and fringe to relieve the limpetness, but I did it.  Now I just have to do the same when the office is full…and then go to the other office I spend time in.  I’ve done a bit though, and I even had a compliment on my ‘lovely new hair cut’ yesterday which made my day!

Tonight’s activity is to wash Bradley (there is a special procedure) and attempt a spot of stretching.  Sister 1 very kindly bought me a mannequin head this week and we decoupage-ed it to make it pretty.  Of course, we’ve had to name Head and although Bradley was named for the Wiggins part, we’ve related Head to another Brad and she is now called Angelina.  Sister one had the genius idea of making her more feminine than she was when we finished, so she now even has the trademark red lips!  :o)

Brad and Angelina

Brad and Angelina

Thank you again for all your support,  It means so much.x

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The scariest blog post I have ever written….

This is the scariest blog I have ever written, but there are a few reasons for sitting here feeling sick while I try to work out how to start…  Maybe I should just plough straight in.

This is me how I usually look:

hair 1

(I know, I just broke my own rule of no faces on here, but it would be hard to do this with out mine!)

And with my hair down (this never happens in public for reasons that are about to become clear):

hair 2

For about 23 years I’ve had a ‘thingy’ called trichotillomania.  It basically means that (even though I hate it) I pull out my hair.  It’s worse when I am stressed but a lot is habit, in my view.  I have tried EVERYTHING to stop, from doctors, diets, right up to elastoplasting my finger tips so that I couldn’t grip my hair.  The longest I’ve ever managed to stop for is a few months.  People close to me know, as do those who have known me a long time (- when you wear a hat for two years solid it does somewhat give the game away!)  I try to hide it from everyone else.

In the last few months it has got really, really bad, to the point that I need a multiway comb over to leave the house…and that takes a lot of time.  It also means that wind and rain terrify me in case the usual ½ can of hair spray doesn’t hold out.  Doctors and people view it as something that’s not serious as it doesn’t actually harm you and all that was left as an option is to take tablets (I’ve tried this too…it works, but means that I can’t function much myself, which isn’t a great long term solution).  I’ve not been too keen on leaving the house for a while as a result.

This is what ‘really, really bad’ looks like for me:

hair 3

So a few months ago I hatched a plan.  I ran it past my family and, knowing how hard I have tried for so long to stop, they said they didn’t actually think it was that daft.

This was my plan:

I’ve shaved my hair in the past but I’d let it grow back straight away, only giving myself a few weeks to break the habit.  Maybe if I shaved it and kept it shaved long enough (4-5 months) I could break the habit?  Only last time I did this I was in my early 20s at uni….it was ok then.  Not so ok when you work in a professional office (and already struggle to fit in with the ‘professional’ part.)  So I’d buy a wig.

And that’s essentially what I have done.  Yesterday mum and I went to a special wig shop, met the most amazing ladies in there and we walked out with Bradley (Bradley Wiggins, get it?) This morning Sister 2 came over and we bunched up what was left of my hair, cut it off and I’m posting it to ‘Little Princess Trust’ – a place you can donate your hair to be turned into real hair wigs for children who have lost their hair.

hair 4

hair 5

hair 6

We then got the clippers out and, um…did this:

hair 7

So the reasons I’m writing this?  Firstly, I’d like to introduce you to Bradley:

hair 8

I have a feeling he may feature in the blog occasionally going forward.

Secondly, because I am fed up with keeping this a secret other than talking in hushed voices to the chosen few.  This is part of me, not a great part, but I know I am not the only one out there and maybe this will help others who also have a multiway comb over…

And finally because by telling everyone, it might help me…I can’t hide it now and the fact that people are aware might help me stop.

So my new years resolution is to stop pulling out my hair (hopefully you’d worked that one out by now!)  Thank you – you’ve already helped me by reading this.  Happy new year to all of you.  I hope your 2013 is full of lovely stuff, but especially, lots of smiles :o)

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HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

Happy Christmas, you lovely people!

C2

I was going to write a proper post but I’m out of time…I’m due at Sister 1’s for nibbles and a drink in 20 minutes and I’ve still not finished wrapping or delivering (although I have managed to burn some truly appalling home made canapes to take with me.  Not that I imagine they will help my case much…).

I’ve had the best Christmas Eve – as well as the usual (a spot of Christmas TV, deliveries of presents etc) I spent the afternoon with Gorgeous Godson and family and was treated to a trombone solo from his brother and a very special panto (who knew that a dinosaur was such a key player in Cinderella…?)

spot the dinosaur

spot the dinosaur

So I’d better get on.  Have a wonderful time tomorrow, whatever you’re doing, and I hope Father Christmas brings what you asked for :o)

C1

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The Joy of Stick Insects (there may be just a little sarcasm there…)

Well that’s the end of the first week of my holiday and I’ve almost finished my Saturday ‘to do’ list.  Unfortunately, it’s last Saturday’s list.  Things have not gone at all the way I expected.  By now, I expected to be snuggled on the sofa, eating my body weight in chocolate while reading the first book I’d have opened since my last time off in June.  I have started the book, I’m pleased to say.  Only I wasn’t on my sofa – I was in an A&E department waiting to find out if Sister 2 had actually broken her wrist or not (happily not).

I’ve spent a day with the Lovely Nut – my good friend in her 70’s.  The highlight of that day was when we walked through a very well to do part of London and I turned around to discover that in the absence of an umbrella, she’d fashioned a rain hat from a Tesco bag – pulling the handles around her ears…

There have been other unexpected moments but the one I’ve told a few people I’d pop on here is the first night with the stick insects (see the last post for details, but essentially, being the genius that I am, I bought Dad the stick insects that are his Christmas present a week early and now have the joy of looking after them until I can hand them over.)

So I thought it couldn’t be that hard.  Norman Cat lost interest relatively early in the evening so I went to bed having pushed them to the back of one of my higher shelving units.  At 1am I woke up to a tapping noise.  I went to investigate and found Norman tapping the side of the tank.  I decided they weren’t safe, so moved them to the top of the kitchen cupboards.  A place Norman has never climbed to and couldn’t, even if he tried.  At 2.30am I woke to a massive crash, rushed into the kitchen and found Norman on the unit he couldn’t possibly reach.  He’d pushed the tank off the shelf, liberally spreading earth, brambles and stick insects everywhere….

You know how when you first wake up, things are a little blurry?  Well now imagine trying to find beige stick insects amongst brambles, earth, brown floor tiles and a beige carpet.  Happily the giant one was still in the tank, I assume, stunned into immobility from her impromptu flight.  The second I found in the brambles, eventually.  The third though seemed to have gone.  I couldn’t move my feet in case I trod on her so I just stood like a doofus, looking around like a maniac and wondering how far he could have flown. Something caught my eye though and I discovered him racing for freedom across the kitchen counter.  I popped him back in with the others, reassembled the tank and realised I had to find a new place to keep them.  I considered the oven but could see that going horribly wrong if I managed to forget them.

So now the three of them live in the shower in my bathroom and every time I leave the house, I get to the end of the road and have to come back to check that I’ve shut the bathroom door.  I’ve even started dreaming about them escaping and accidentally sitting on them.  Hey ho, only a few more days to go.

Now I really have to go and make the Christmas crackers to get me through day one of that list.  There’s only 6 days to catch up on then :o)

(PS: someone pointed out after the last post that I might have spoiled the surprise of Dads present by writing about it.  Actually, my parents are possibly one of the only households in the UK to have no computer and no internet access….they only read the blog when I remember to print it out for them.  For those of you that know me, that could go some why to explaining my incompetence with technology – it’s a family trait ;o)  )

totally irrelevant, but spotted this week and I rather like it.

totally irrelevant, but spotted this week and I rather like it.

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Holiday Fun and Frolics, Pog Style

I finished work on Friday – Hooray!  Nobody informed my Blackberry though and it’s been flashing its light of evil pretty much non stop.  I’ve even had to do a few work calls which is not great for the relaxation process.  Hey ho, that’s the joy of technology I guess…

I had visions of Christmas tv and leisurely wrapping of presents from yesterday but, not too surprisingly with me, things haven’t gone quite to plan.

Yesterday Sister 2 and I went to buy her the two goldfish she wants for Christmas.  I thought we’d by a bowl of some description, a couple of fish and pop them in.  It would seem those days are gone.  These days you have to buy a tank, set it up, let the water settle and have it tested before you’re allowed to take any fishies home with you.  The first shop we went to had a young boy serving who 1) was rude and 2) had no sense of humour.  We decided to give that one a miss and went to another shop which happily was significantly cheaper for identical kit.  Sister 2 now has a lovely looking tank with rocks, plants and a distinct lack of fish.  If the water passes the shops test on Friday though, that will be rectified

In a slight panic that Dads present may require the same level of organisation, I decided I should get that today.  I should have known three Giant Thorny Stick Insects would pose a few problems…

We asked for help, a lady was called.  This lady had clearly never discovered Christmas spirit and while providing what we asked for, was clearly not happy about it.  Especially when I pointed out that one of the Stick Insects she’d popped in a pot for us was missing two legs and one antenna.  You would have thought I’d asked for her to cover it in gold and do a naked sun dance rather than just asking if we could swap it for one that was perhaps a little more healthy.  Swap it we did though and went home to make their house up.

what a bucket of earth looks like in a measuring jug...

what a bucket of earth looks like in a measuring jug…

It turns out that 5pm is not a great time to walk to the field at the end of the road to trim brambles to provide the Stick Insects with dinner.  There are no street light in Bumpkinsville and it was rather dark.  It also seems that if the instructions on a small block of dried earth tell you to put it in a bucket before covering with a litre of water, you should find something at least approaching bucket size.  If you put it in a measuring jug, you have to cut it out.  It also turns out that Norman Cats are quite keen on investigating stick insects….

It’s only a week I have to keep them alive for though.  It can’t be that hard,can it?  My biggest worry is that I think this may become a new obsession.  Every 15 minutes or so I have to check to make sure all three are definitely still in there.  I’m not terribly keen on them and the idea of them escaping makes my teeth itch.  Still, it’s better than watching the Blackberry to see if it’s started more flashing since I read the last e-mail.  I think!  :o)

She's a big one!

She’s a big one!

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A Missing Mum

My mum loves walking.  So much so that she borrows her neighbours dogs on a regular basis for some company on them.  For the last two Sundays I’ve been going with them and, for someone who hates walking (unless there is something different at the end, preferably food), I’ve actually been enjoying it.

It's MY stick!

It’s MY stick!

This Sunday though, the borrowed dogs (two very bouncy, energetic Labradors) were particularly enthusiastic and managed to run up behind mum and both trampled her foot.  The same foot that she had an operation on a few months back.  To cut a long story short, she ended up at the hospital yesterday morning and was told she had poorly ligaments and had to sit with her foot up for a week to allow them to heal.

pre foot issues

pre foot issues

Today I called to check on her as I thought Dad would be at work and she’d be home alone.  No answer.  30 minutes later, no answer.  30 minutes later and I decided I should probably do a bit more than sigh at their answer phone on a half hourly basis.  She could, after all, be in a heap at the bottom of the cellar stairs or something.  Happily I was working from home so I jumped in the car and drove there (it’s only 10 miles or so away).

Anyway, I got to my parents house, let myself in and nothing.  No mum in a heap at the bottom of the stairs (phew).  In fact, no mum anywhere.  I called, I checked all the rooms and when I noticed two dirty coffee cups, her handbag and part written calculations on turkey cooking times, I considered alien abduction.  There wasn’t much more I could do though as her mobile was dejectedly sitting on the windowsill (my parents only ever turn their mobiles on for 30 minutes a day when on holiday as anything else would be ‘a waste of the battery’).  I left a note to let them know I’d been but I’d lost them and drove home.  I called Sisters 1 and 2 to see if they knew where they could be.  We concluded it must indeed be an alien abduction.

Four hours later, Mum called.  She and Dad had been out for lunch with friends.  My parents never go out, not for lunch and certainly not when the doctor has told one of them to sit still with a foot up!  Needless to say, I’ve asked for copies of their schedule in future and a request that they not only take their mobiles with them when they go out, but that they actually turn them on too.  Honestly, it’s like dealing with a couple of teenagers!  :o)

dog walk

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Weeble world update

Well the good news is that I managed to keep the body shaping ‘thing’ (weeble outfit) on for the entire Christmas party (although my shoes ended up in my hands rather early on).  It turns out though, that I didn’t need it.  Not because I lost a few stone over night, but because it was the coldest Christmas party in the history of Christmas parties and I had to keep my huge cardigan on all night, effectively covering me from neck to knees.  It wasn’t just me being a toad either – others had coats, scarves and, in a few cases, hats on for the entire night.

I broke my rule of sticking to one drink…again…which resulted in rather a lot of embarrassing drunkenness, but on the upside I made good friends with the bus driver on the way home who offered me dinner, a dvd and, when I took out my blackberry, a Samsung phone. It also gave me the confidence to talk those-with-the-power so that our bus could leave half full rather than waiting even longer for more people (although I may have actually just scared him by slurring at him that ‘we really have to get to Bumpkinsville you know…’).  This got me a cheer when I wobbled back onto the bus :o)

So things went well, until the train.  First I started texting.  Badly.  I informed Sister 2 that ‘I’m konsondi and getting taxi so sleeeep.’  And to another friend ‘have just extracted myself from evil.ness on grain a,nd in the process tissue is p’.

What that last text referred to was the fact that I decided part way home I’d been wearing my weeble outfit too long and it was coming off. I have no idea quite how I managed it, but I did.  And then I put my cardigan back on.  As I did, a screwed up tissue flew out of my sleeve, across the aisle and onto the lap of another (sleeping) passenger.  I found this hilarious.  Sister 2 it turns out, didn’t find it so funny, mainly because when I called her to giggle down the phone, I woke her up.

But no real damage was done over the evening.  And I managed to get home in once piece.  It was just this morning that I was in bits.  I think I may be getting too old for this drinking lark but hey ho, if you can’t have a few moments of daftness at the Christmas party, when can you?  :o)

 time for an early night now...

time for an early night now…
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