Tag Archives: work

End of the Week

I have taken Number Two Son to work. I have navigated through an unexpected diversion and a set of roadworks that weren’t supposed to be there tonight.

Now, as a large, clear moon shines outside, I am am sneaking in a quick extra post. Today was a lovely sunny day, though I didn’t appreciate the fact until I stepped out of the shop at 4pm. Most of my day had consisted of parcels, computer screens and a bundle of old maps.

Apart from chatting to a couple of customers and drinking coffee, that was my day.

It’s likely that this will be as good as it gets for the next seven years, at which point I will retire and fade away. I’ve not quite worked out the best way to grow old disgracefully but it will probably include excessive facial hair, passing rude comments in a loud voice and wearing clothes that make it look like I dressed in the dark.

I’ve already made a start on all three.

 

 

A Few Loose Ends

We went to the garage this morning – Julia had a ride on the ramp and I watched as the car cost me another £65.

Julia bought breakfast at McDonalds – yes, I’m ashamed of myself – and I dropped her off at work before going to work myself.

We only had two questions to answer and three parcels to post so I’d finished by the time everryone else turned up.

We sold one of these today – less than 24 hours after putting it on. Judging from the poertraits it commemorates the marriage of a monkey to an unsuccessful professional pugilist.

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Royal Wedding medallion

Work went, as work does – a few customers, sorting some halfpennies, answering the phone, more things to put on eBay, then, as we were getting ready to go, two people bought things and we had two more parcels to do.

Back at home, I picked up my post, which informed me that I’d passed my blood test and have three weeks before the next one.

Eating tea and relaxing, I was distirbed by a text asking for a lift. Number Two son is on the way back from Manchester airport after returning from his German holiday.

And that, I think, is everything up to date.

Well, not quite. Just had a phone call to say No2 son is waiting in Sheffield after the Nottingham train was cancelled.

And while I think of it – I had an email from the farm (the venue for the original Quercus group). The ariel photo shows many changes, but the song remains the same. They have another community group running and are once again asking for cash. two years after getting rid of us they don’t seem much further forward. Maybe there will be a different outcome this time. Maybe…

I’ve blocked them from sending more emails.

 

A Garden Visitor

We sat and drank coffee from a flask before getting on with the serious work of the day. Today we had Jaffa cakes.

Look who came to sort through the woodchip, shortly after robbing the bird feeder.

 

Sometimes it’s good to stand and stare as a preparation for the day. The poem actually mentions squirrels, something which I’d actually forgotten since the last time I read it.

Then I went to work and started listing medallions. I was still at it when we packed up for the day.

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Lots and lots of medallions…

Tonight, I expect, I will dream about medallions…

100 Posts 100 Days

Nose to the grindstone today!

Parcels, putting stuff on eBay, putting more stuff on eBay then packing more parcels. A day of symmetry if nothing else.

Fortunately I’d recharged my soul in advance – sitting in the garden with Julia for 20 minutes before setting off for the shop.

I’m setting myself some 100 day challenges, and the first one is to write 100 posts in 100 days. If I manage that, I may try to write 100 good posts in 100 days. The two things, as I’ve said before, are not necessarily the same thing.

I may post again later, but for now I’ll content myself with making sure I’ve posted today.

Back in the Groove…

Well, it looks like I’m not quite back in the groove, as I wrote this last night and then forgot to post it.

Ah well, if it’s a bit confusing try adjusting it by 24 hours.

Looks like it’s five days since I last posted. Sorry about that – I have plenty of things to write about, loads of photos and plenty of typing fingers (even if I don’t actually use nine of them) so there’s no excuse.

It’s a bit like being trapped in a chocolate factory – so much choice I just can’t get to grips with it.

However, I do have a plan. I’m going to start by writing a short paragraph about not writing posts and I’ll see where that takes me. In fact I just did that.

Now for Part II.

The day started, as so often, when Julia’s alarm clock went off early. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but she has a problem with setting alarms. For some reason her alarms always seem to go off ten minutes early, which is why the alarm went off at 4.50am. I’m beginning to suspect she does it deliberately.

Having had a poor night (two trips to the bathroom during the early hours) I muttered my suspicions about her setting of the clock and went back to sleep for another 20 minutes, where I dreamed of urology. I’m going to have to put myself in their hands again I fear, and have mixed feelings on the subject.  Actually, that’s not quite true. I have feelings on the matter but they aren’t particularly mixed.

I dropped her off at 6am and went to pick Number 2 son from work. There were nine pied wagtails in the car park, all seeming to find food. There was also a woman wearing a sheepskin jacket and pyjama trousers, which was strange. It reminded me of a scene out of Dawn Patrol (if I recall correctly) where David Niven goes out on patrol in his pyjamas and returns to the squadron, still wearing them, after being shot down.

Next, off to the launderette. I was the only one in there and took advantage of that by using the big machine and doing the hot wash with pre-wash. It takes over an hour but Julia is always complaining the short wash doesn’t do things properly. She may be right, but the truth is that you normally have to rush it to get a drier.

Today I only just got a drier, as the place suddenly filled with people just as my machine finished. It would have been annoying to have missed out.

Julia had slipped a rainproof top into the washing. It was dirty and had plastic tape on the seams. It is now clean and, after the tumble drier, no longer has plastic tape to worry about. It probably isn’t waterproof now either.  We will no doubt be discussing it further.

While I was waiting I made notes, planned a menu for the week, wrote a shopping list and read a book on Vikings. I bought it for 50p yesterday whilst shopping at Sainsbury’s – there were some good books on the charity table yesterday.

Then I nipped along to the cafe for a bacon and black pudding cob with brown sauce and a nice big mug of tea.

The diet, in case you were wondering, could be going better.

This took me up to 10.30 am. That’s probably enough excitement for one post.

 

The Natural History of 6am

At this time of year 6am on a Sunday morning is a twilight world filled with strange sights and tinged with sadness. By the time it starts to be twilight you know that summer has passed and another long winter is about to start. Though time is passing more quickly as I get older, winter seems to last longer.

I can’t talk for other days, as I don’t regularly get up for that time on any other day. I would like to, as it seems an industrious thing to do, but I’m just too lazy. My father’s parents used to get up at 4.30 every morning, even when they were in their 80’s, but I haven’t inherited the urge to get up in the dark.

Julia has now been working at the Leisure Centre for around seven years, so I’ve had many chances to observe the Natural History of  that time.

We set off at around 5.40 to get to work for 6am. Other people who go to work at that time are mainly walking, with a few bicycles and cars around. A few people stand at bus stops, but they are early, as the buses don’t start until six. I always think of this when the government says that we should get out of our cars and use public transport. I would use public transport if it ran at the right times. And if I liked sharing a tin box with drunks and people who hold loud telephone conversations.

As people walk to work, wearing stout footwear and sensible clothing they meet a torrent of people wearing fashionable footwear and next to nothing else. I swear that the mascara worn by some of the women weighs more than their clothes. These are the people returning home from a night out.

Talk all you want about poverty and starvation, but there’s something about going to work as the revellers return home that really emphasises the unfairness of life.

For a closer view of the clubbers, you can often find them clustered in McDonalds at this time of the morning loudly discussing the banal details of their night out. At this point it is time to reflect that the more interesting members of the species have, in all probability, paired off and are involved in various mating rituals.

The birds are the other interesting Natural History element of the early morning. Blackbirds tend to be about at all times of the day or night and tend to behave as Blackbirds do at all time of the day. There’s something about a Blackbird’s body clock that seems to go 24 hours a day, whether in sunlight or the illumination of streetlights.

Pigeons stalk the city streets and the suburbs at this time of day, finding plenty of spilled food to eat. Often the spillage will be large enough to attract a sizeable flock. They don’t really pay a lot of attention to cars and natural selection plays its part here – ensuring that the less alert of the pigeons provides a snack for the crows, who always seem to be lurking. There were no Wood Pigeons or Magpies about this morning, but they are often seen too.

That, I feel, is enough. I’m off to the laundry now.

This, in case any children are reading, is what happens when you don’t work hard enough at school. People who worked hard at school tend to have the weekends off.

The Quality of Coins…

We had an unusual start to the day.

On Saturday we have a lie in.  It’s the one day of the week when we aren’t pressed for time so we sleep in until 8.00. It’s only an hour but it breaks up the week, and prepares us for Sunday. I was in that stage of waking where you know the alarm is about to go off, but you don’t actually want to open your eyes and confirm it. It’s a comfortable place to be and I quite enjoy it.

Then Julia’s mobile went off.

It was work.

According to my alarm it was 7.58.

The Council had organised a special event for employees in one of their departments (and family members) after they won a national award. They had realised, somewhere between opening at 6.00 and ringing us, that they would need extra staff, hence the phone call.

Julia has a particular tone of voice she uses when she wants to express disapproval without actually saying she disapproves. I have heard it more than once. The crackling voice on the other end of the phone become gradually more apologetic.

Fortunately the rest of the day was better. We had customers in for most of the day and managed to get a few things on eBay too. It’s strange to think that six hours of work can be condensed into a couple of lines.

I’ll load some pictures now as they are a slightly more interesting way of  showing how industrious I’ve been.

For starters, I’ll start with a marketing master class. If you are thinking of marketing a coin by using a well-known entertainer, make it a rule to check if he’s likely to be at liberty to help with the promotional work. Rolf Harris was not a good choice to promote the Australian silver Kangaroo coin. Eddie refuses to put them on eBay but I have no problem with them. The coin didn’t actually commit any crime and besides that, it gives me a chance to say “Can you see what it is yet?” (American readers may need to refer to the link to see what I’m talking about, just replace the name with Bill Cosby).

The next selection are from the well known nation of Tristan da Cunha. It’s so proud of itself it even uses the abbreviation TDC instead of its name. I doubt if any of the coins ever see the place, though according to this link they do provide a source of revenue for the island. They seem to be jumping on the Great War bandwagon, and though the designs aren’t bad on the reverses, the badly done bust of the Queen is almost criminal.

Contrast that with the Ian Rank-Broadley effigy used on our current coins, and the coins of many other nations, and the TDC one looks even worse. You can see the IRB effigy on this poppy-shaped coin from Jersey. You can also get them with red colouration applied. I will say no more.

It’s not what I thought I’d be dealing with when I went to work in a coin shop.

Weather, Wiki and Wanderings

I’ve just dropped Julia at work, returned home and turned the computer on to check the weather.

The current weather is  cloudy, 1 degree Centigrade (which feels like -3 due to windchill), humidity of 93%, visibility of 12 miles and pressure of 1010 mb.

The first point that occurs to me is that I could tell most of this from sticking my head out of the door. The second is that I don’t know what 1010 mb represents and the third is that I can’t see 12 miles in most directions on account of houses and trees and other environmental clutter. and I don’t understand humidity.

Specifically, I don’t understand why the humidity is currently higher than it is forecast to be for the rest of the day, when it will be raining. To my simple mind 100% humidity is what you find in a swimming pool, so I don’t know how a damp but rain-free morning can be 93% humid when a rainy afternoon is forecast to be 72%.

It’s a mystery, as Toyah Wilcox used to sing.

I looked Toyah Wilcox up on Wikipedia after mentioning her. I then went on to Robert Fripp, Fripp’s uncle Alfie…

After that I ended up with Paul Brickhill, Roger Bushell and, eventually, Tim Birkin. There were a few more links in there, but I’ll leave you to make your own journey.

The Birkin article, though mentioning his younger brother Archie, fails to mention his older brother Thomas. I sometimes despair at the standard of some Wikipedia entries, though not so much that I’ve ever contributed anything to any of the articles. It seems fair to include Thomas as he seems to have been equally as intrepid as the others.

I’ve lost my Birkin notes, taken about 20 years ago, but I know there is a family link to Jane Birkin. They are a Nottingham family, in case you are wondering about my sudden interest in a random subject.

It’s time to leave you now, as I’ve frittered enough time making an accidentally symmetrical journey between two multi-talented women. A few musings on weather forecasts seem to have taken me quite a way. I am now equipped with new knowledge (which is good) but it is time for breakfast (which is better).

Ageing Bit by Bit

I was tempted to title the blog Stiff Little Fingers. This would be accurate as far as my arthritis goes, but might raise false hopes in the hearts of ageing punks. I added the link as it’s one of those words that can cause confusion when written by an Englishman and read by an American.

What happened to suggest the title was that I went to bed last night, slept reasonably well and woke up with a little finger that wouldn’t bend. It’s ached for years, and often seems rather cold compared to the other fingers on that hand, but so does the little finger on my other hand.

I now have a ring finger on the right hand that is arthritic and a little finger on the left hand that looks like it’s starting to go.

It freed up while I was at work (sorting junk postcards this morning) though it returned in the afternoon when I drove to Grantham (I only did a half day in the shop today).

So, it started with one finger (I would link to that post but can’t even hazard a guess where it is), moved on to a knee and is now colonising another finger. At this rate I have about twenty years before all my fingers are useless. (Though if my calculations are accurate I will spend my late 70s only able to type slowly and operate doorbells).

As I’ve said before, I’d have taken more care of my body if I’d realised how long I was going to need it.

Snow!

The Council doesn’t seem to have gritted last night, with the result that the roads are worse than they were during the last snow.  Everyone knew it was coming, apart, it seems, from the man who arranges the gritting.

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Before…

This was the picture at 5.30 this morning. After a Saturday of snow flurries it finally started to settle overnight and was completely white by morning. We have four inches, which hardly qualifies as snow in some countries, but is big news in the UK, particularly in March. The TV weather report has just claimed six inches for Nottingham, so it may be worse in places.

What I really want is some warm Spring weather and a few flower pictures. There are plenty of flowers coming out, but it always seems to be a grey day when I have a chance for photography.

The outlook isn’t too bad, though I’m not sure how good it will be by the end of the day when I go to pick Julia up. The TV weather reports keep telling us where the snow will appear during the day, but is a bit short on information about when ours will melt.

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Snow in Sherwood, Notts

I’m beginning to see mental pictures of Vladimir Putin as Ming the Merciless in the film Flash Gordon. As I recall, it starts with an outbreak of bad weather caused by and evil, bald mega-villain.

Image result for ming the merciless

Normally I use my own photos, but I’m short of galactic supervillains so I’ve sourced one on the internet. I’m hoping that by giving a link to the film they will forgive me for lifting the photo.

This is the “After” photo, taken in the light after I got home. Time to blog and eat breakfast now.

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After…