Happy Halloween!

I've started decorating already!

Necklace restrung from Poundland decoration

Lurex jumper - charity shop

Today's Mission...

... was to come home with an

The 12 year old's been moaning that I haven't written about him lately.

So here is a bit all about him and his amazing pasta sauce that he's making at the moment. Hence the onion.  He made some earlier this week, but owing to the fail that was me sending him in with narrow-necked container for it, much of it remained on the school worktop. The sauce that made it home was lovely though.

*********

And here are some photos of today's Weekend Wanderings, in Derby. There would have been some more close-ups of this statue-infested building, but there was an outbreak of sibling scuffling and we had to move on sharpish. People were looking.

I liked this spirally thing. But not the traffic light

A lot of lamp posts 

A window display all about invention and stuff

Overheard...

... in Argos.















Woman buying a bracelet....

"If I get it engraved, can I still bring it back?"
"Erm, no."
"But it'll only be a name..."
"NO"

So This Is Where We Went...

.... Brighton!!!

 Mostly around the North Laines...

Click on this one and enlarge the picture to see the notice in the window!

Some Snap-Happy Tourist reflected in the window. Not me...

 Tableau of superheroes'n'kitsch in the window display

 

The fantastic roofline of The Pavilion

Very thoughtful recycling opportunities

Where We Went On School's Out Thursday

Despite not having to set the alarm clock this morning we were up early, to make the most of the Extra Day-Off today, and even managed to be back by teatime. We were so busy having a lovely time that I only remembered to take one photo. I'm really Quite Proud Of Myself for getting a move on and managing an impulse day at the seaside...

********

Nah, course we didn't! The 12 year old enjoyed a long lie-in til gone 10, and it was a pj morning for both of us, but we went for an afternoon up the train track to Civilisation, exploring vintage shops, quaint buildings, finding A New Favourite Cafe - houmous and roasted vegetable ciabattas and king prawn salad sandwiches. Would love to show a photo, but still trying to pluck up courage to take food pics; they might think I'm from Environmental Health!

We* were so impressed at getting long-handled spoons with the coleslaw that afterwards we went to this lovely little shop to find some of our own, for ice cream sundaes aka anything from the freezer I sling into tall glasses and slather in chocolate sauce:

A treasure trove of Very Expensive Loveliness - personally I'd cry for days if I dropped an Orla Kiely teapot that cost £54.99 - but we found the spoons. Apparently they are latte spoons. There were several types of cutlery which, frankly, I'd never heard of and I felt as uncouth as someone encountering a place setting with so much silver that you have no idea whether to start from the outside or the inside. Grapefruit spoons? How very sensible - I thought that's what teaspoons are for. ;)

And finally, we had to put on body armour, took a load of rescue remedy.... and hit Primark. Yes, this was the Day When It Was Discovered That None Of The 12 Year Old's Jeans Fit Him Anymore - apart from the one pair that were in the wash. Predictably it was rammed, groups of School's Out teenagers (mostly well-behaved) and a slightly higher than usual amount of unmanned toddlers. But puzzlingly, there were also hoardes of people NOT entertaining school-age children - older people, people with babies... School's Out Thursday coinciding with payday? Brilliant! Oh, and I also got this t-shirt ;)

* Actually just me - the 12 year old is still being polite enough to pretend to feign interest

I'm Going To Walk In The Sun, And.....

..... Buy Me A New Camera! Yes, today. I know it would be wise to do some interweb-ordering, and I may yet find a crafty way to combine online-nicer-price-ness with the gratification that comes with getting my mitts on that camera straightaway....

The faff that comes with borrowing the 13 year old's camera, then waving a magic wand to splutter some life into my camera while I download the photos is too boringly luddite, even for me. Yesterday my I-don't-lurve-it-anymore gadget refused to recognise its own memory card, and proudly downloaded instead some manky photos of a clematis I'd taken 3 years ago from the built-in memory thingie. Enough.... I wanted to post glorious orange poppies that abound in the garden, the selection of old postcards that I had a merry evening rediscovering in all corners of the house for the stairway-to-the-loft moodboard project. And I would be able to do those very things, in instant(ish) pictorial form If I Only Had That Camera.

So off t'shops we shall go. Then the blog can have some colour, and we shall have us some sunbeams and vitamin D, and of course buy something snackalicious for tomorrow's visit from Trashsparkle's mum. It will be her first sight of the new kitchen, and I haven't exactly busted a gut sanding and painting those walls yet. So there will be conversations starting with "you need to..." which I shall wave away with the usual lack of concern I have for the finer details of holes in the wall and bad evidence of previous wall colours*. Then in about 3 days time the bug will kick in and I'll get on with it.



* I shall, instead, redirect her attention to the wonderful way in which I have recently colour-ordered the 12 year old's extensive t-shirt collection. Damn those £1.50 Primark bargains.

A Kitchen And A Catsuit

Thursday

• Found unfilled hole in wall after men had gone, where dishwasher pipe had been taken out. Big enough for assorted minibeasts, and possibly a blackbird or two, to enter the house, so out with a bucket of mix-it-yerself external filler.
• Hoovered a bit.
• To make the walls look less like Al Capone* had been round, filled all holes left by removal of cupboards and shelves so from a distance they look better.
• Cooked pizzas - but blaming relocation of oven, rather than not keeping an eye on the time, for the fact they got ever-so-slightly burnt.
• *Do we like the Al Capone-esque bullet points?

Friday

• Felt that it was impossible to go to work as I was aching all over, from pre-refurb moving of EVERYTHING and from the generally unrelaxing hovering I had been doing during Thursday. Note, that is all-day HOVERING, not hoovering... my plan to retreat to the front room to watch sneaky and copious amounts of 60 Minute Makeover et al was scuppered by The Men putting 3 massive toolboxes in there, preventing access to sofas as the room Is That Small and from the constant leaving open of the front door. And it was too cold to sit outside in the garden away from it all. Instead I alternated between hovering with the laptop in a corner of the dining room, and blitzing the 12 year old's room.
• Pulled myself together and went to work, as I was being a bit of a wimp and really had no excuse for trying to slack off.
• Loitered around the market on the way home, resisting anything I'd have to find house-room for in my newly-discovered Less Is More mode, and bought necklaces instead.
• And bought a new drainer rack for the sink - the boyfriend says the sink is a caravan one. T'is not, so there. It's just spacially economical.
• Set to cleaning underneath of the 2 existing wall cupboards with white vinegar. Easy.
• Put all the mugs into a cupboard. A whole cupboard. This is worrying.
• Moved the kettle. To nearer the sink. This is an improvement on previous foot mileage.
• Put the clock back up.

Saturday

• Went off by train to a large swanky shopping centre - ok, it was Westfield, as the teenage recluse was up for going out, following the Amazing Success of the mid-week new school visit and voluntary haircut experience.
• Had calming expectations of snapping up some nice ovenware, to progress the new kitchen.
• Impressed by the poshness and design of the toilets. Better than yer average encounter.
• Swooned in Schuh, luvverly shop with fabulous, gorgeous, ridiculous erm... shoes. And excellent sales staff. Window shopping for me, as we were buying converse for the teenager.
• Sales staff experience reversed altogether in New Look. Very Couldn't Be Bothered ethos. Not good. Hoodie and t-shirt purchased, for 12 and 13 year old respectively.
• Which meant bags. Argument about who was carrying them. Not me.
• Shopping fatigue kicking in, further arguments about where to have lunch.
• Re-discovering the stereo effect that is walking in between 2 children and both of them talking to me at once.
• Lunch then ice creams. Neither of them would hold my ice cream, so no popping into charity shops. In truth, I was scared to, in the Less Is More frame of mind, as Where Would I Put anything I might have found?
• Finally, I bought something - a mini-tube of handcream. £1.10. I am cheap to take out.
• Wasted by the time we got back so flopped down with the papers, then cooked dinner whilst re-siting the cutlery drawer. So many useless, forgotten things in there - many, many beer bottle-openers and random vegetable peelers. Will have a cull. Another day.
• And then watched Mama Mia. Which was worth seeing, if only for Colin Firth in a tight blue spangly catsuit at the end. Why had I never known about that?

update:- following The Great Blogger Outtage of May 2011, I noticed the colin-in-a-catsuit photo I could have sworn I'd originally posted had gone. I had to search high and low to get this pic; I am starting to suspect that Mr Firth's People may have issued some sort of retrospective super-injunction to suppress said images of Their Man. Were Mr Firth's People and the blogger outtage mysteriously linked while the former scoured blogs for any incriminating evidence???

Bag of Pixies

Feel very lucky today - have had double-day-off time this week, so all very chilled and trying to be focussed. On sorting my life out a bit more. Bigger. Better. Faster. Go....

Of course, I had to have a few Pixies tracks to start today off, but am playing Frank Black to get more of his vocals, while figuring out a faster way to sell my vintage stuff. I am hopelessly undisciplined at listing stuff, the photos-in-a-good-light and the description malarkey, but its easy-peasy really. But imagine how brilliant it would be to have an app like in the tesco advert, but sort of in reverse. You scan your phone over a mid-century coffeepot, and 3 seconds later, its on eBay, beautifully photographed, accurately described.... Oh, please someone, invent it now.

Have been in to town for coffee and cake and was intending to try out some perfumes, but waylaid by the sale rail of acrylic goodies elsewhere I felt too bag ladyish and lost my nerve. Not sure what scent a bag lady should wear, but the one squirt of O' de Lancome I sneaked before backing out of Boots is not quite it.

Doolittle. Again

Now that we are in February we'll have a bit of colour here. These are the tulips from last week.  

This week's flowers are as kitsch-as-hell. Coasters, in perfect nick. They smell just like they've been at the back of someone's sideboard for 50 years....

I think the parenting skills inspection went well. If that's how you can describe a psychologist clutching at straws. I'd hidden all the Tizer leftover from Christmas, and the empty pot noodle cartons anyway. They basically think he'll go back into a school somewhere, but not the current one, in his own sweet time. So, no problem there then. Apparently.

Last night's online grocery shop was a fail, as I was drawn instead to checking out a blog of old film and tv stills. This meant The Supermarket. Again. So, I put the blinkers on, got myself banned from the jewellery aisle, and managed a well-disciplined haul. Although the super-sized, stubby 720g jar of Branston was chosen for vase-potential so a swift decanting will need to be actioned.

Swift and action are words that are going to have to enter my vocabulary, replacing sofa-time and laissez-faire. Slapdash and slack are not getting me anywhere fast. In fact, I would like my life to be wireless, streamlined, less messy. But in the meantime I can't stop playing the Pixies....

...and uploading the odd photo of glorious buildings.



A Random Supermarket Haul

Today I was all a little weary-of-life and abstractly bereft, and also with vague intentions of making a lasagne tonight. So, into the supermarket. For an idle browse/buy session, rather than full-on trolley dash. I love multi-purpose shops - you can go in, pretending you're going to get some cheese, and come out with a fistful of new jewellery and a couple of bags of cushions. Failing that, there's always the Aisle of Interesting Things to peruse, should you fancy a stripey picnic rug, some uber-bright garden candles, or even some snazzy packaging on the boxes of tissues. Visuals, dahling, visuals. Sometimes I rein myself in, and time-and-money-manage myself quite well, with a list. Other times, well, only a random splurge will do.

So, today, me and the empty trolley are loitering around the bargaintastic-plastic-jewellery display. Except there's some daft moo intent on restocking the display. Rather than appear rude, I go off for a bit to see if there's any point considering the black jeans. Only for wearing under dresses, in which case own-brand may be acceptable. Then the school ring, something about forms and the educational psychologist visit next week. Multi-task instinct kicking-in as soon as a phone hits my ear, I find 2 pairs, £8 each. Roaming back to the silly moo still cluttering up my view of the bargaintastic-plastic, I quickly extract a dinky little necklace, multi-coloured and totally tootie frootie in texture. Conscious of the deirdre barlow effect setting in between my chin and my collarbone, I am getting up minutes earlier these days in order to ensure that I wear some sort of necklace arrangement to the World of Work.

And, rolling the trolley s-l-o-w-l-y past the candles, and past the cushions, I hesitate fatally at the kitchen gadgetty bit. NO!!!!! to new things for the kitchen, wait until after the refit... but its 3-for-2, and the 11 year old must be encouraged in his newly-developing foodie interest.... some big fat tongs, brushed aluminium, excellent to have hanging up, even better for heaving slices of cake off plates, a zester just-because-I've-never-had-one and I saw some zest-requiring-recipe the other day, and a y-shaped peeler. Because I want to see if the peel is alphabetty-shaped.

Right then, lasagne. Cheese. Milk? No, enough at home, don't need it, fingers crossed. Extra penne, because I have decided to make my trolley haul look sophisticated, plus lasagne sheets. And oh dear. Then I find all these nice, shiny little rectangular silver tins of spices... and coriander in a jar.... surely having some of these will make me want to cook more? And think how lovely a few of these will look on the shelf...  I get 2, not wanting to be too rash.

And some UK-grown pink-and-white-striped tulips. And, as it turns out, the own-brand jeans don't make my bum look big in this. Although the 11 year-old turned his nose up at the idea of me serving up homemade lasagne...

I Love These!

A new find today, from of all places, my BANK. Well, not them as such. But a 15 minute wait to see a Useless Customer Advisor meant a flick thru the natwest free magazine! Not purely dullsville; there were smatterings of style-stuff, wouldyabelieveit?? So on page 25 were some cute bags..... Envirosax, available thru their own site, and Amazon et al...

Mild Christmas Panic And Trout Pout

My wonderful plan to pick up presents as and when the "right" thing smacked me between the eyes is starting to fail....

All presents have now been bought, and stashed away, and miraculously, some have even been wrapped, plus excelling myself entirely last week.... some have even been posted too!

The flaw in the Plan To Buy Early is that I've lost one!!!! In the depths of my miniscule house, there lurks a 22cm by 22cm metal sign saying "Hand over the chocolate". Not easy to mislay, at that size, but mislaid, nay, even LOST, it is. My 13 year old just looked at me, and in perfect seeing-the-world-through-his-eyes style, asked if I had actually bought it. Must admit, I did then check the ebay account, just to make sure. So, my mum's partner has a measly tin of scottish biscuits and a 24 hour window for me to either turn the house upside down to find it, or come up with plan B....

Am nearly in a spiral of panic as it is.... we then have to navigate a central portion of England by rail tomorrow. I am not entirely optimistic that all will go smoothly... several extra layers, charged-up ipods and Sensible Sandwiches seem a Good Plan. As is watching 10 year old pantomimes on itv2, marvelling that Patsy Kensit, in her former Mrs Liam Gallagher incarnation, has now finally seen sense and has stopped having collagen lip injections... Can you tell that I minded a teensy bit that she married Jim Kerr?

Rainy Junk Hunting

We went on a long and rainy drive this morning - into another county in fact - in search of some tat to peruse. A total mystery journey of A roads, terrifying bends with big lorries coming the other way, until we finally discovered our destination; a big gothic industrial building ripe for a murder mystery. The scene of the indoor junk market. A pact was made - we had to buy SOMETHING because of the mad distance we'd travelled.

Inside, tables galore, laden with STUFF. And some cute dogs, which were not on sale. Promising... but actually most of it was craft bits. Little bits of decorated wood - A Home Is Just A House Without A Dog. That kind of thing. Not knocking the craft, but not exactly what we were hoping to find... Well, we tried. We went round the room, twice... fake security cameras, baby clothes, 3 fishing rods, dodgy dvds,  absolutely zilch.  But I found a few balls of glittery wool - for the Ongoing Leopardskin Handbag Project.

So, due to the lack of actual vintage bounty this morning I've spent the afternoon trying to wean myself off wanting to buy Something. That vague, dull yearning to acquire something - how shallow is that! I even considered going to B&Q. Shopaholics Anonymous, I am a paid-up member...

Other than Extremely Interesting Trips to bad junk markets, I have mostly been knitting. A lot. There is sooo much diy/fixing up to do in this house, but I am wimping out of all of it, and knitting instead. Its clean, its fast, and it gives results. Which polyfilla-ing and floorboard-sanding, as done by moi, plainly does not. So one handbag made, and leopardskin lining to be made, when I get a sewing vibe on, at some point before last posting day arrives. And halfway through a second one! Already! Amazing...

Lame Is The Name Of The Game

...oh, t'is a sorry autumn when I feel Brucey puns abounding in my head. Shouldn't my head be full of other, more original, more creative, life-enhancing thoughts??

A sunny Sunday, and I am having the visual joy of watching many, many yellowy-greeny leaved trees wafting about - the view is through my back window, but I am not quite grammatically awake yet to make that any clearer in the space of a sensibly-sized sentence. I feel that I should be leaping about - in the spirit of this autumn joyful brightness - atop a hill somewhere, but my nearest hill, and certainly one where I could guarantee not to be seen by anyone I know, is about 4 miles away. I do not possess the va va voomph for an 8-mile round trip by foot, plus assorted leaping.

I feel the need for something big to happen today, to Get Something Done - like a Big Cupboard Sort-Out, or the equivalent of a 60-Minute Makeover of my kitchen-diner but without the whistles, the screeching, the hideous wallpaper-chosen-by-guest-designer, or the ogling neighbours. I think this Need To Do Something relates to tomorrow being back to getting up at the crack of dawn...ugh. :(

This week has been a lovely, slow, lazy half-term week. The 11 year old and I have been on train journeys to larger, more exciting towns than the one we live in. We discovered a fabulous, derelict grade II listed building and explored a very spiritual 14th century museum on one day, and got hopelessly lost and accused of shoplifting in a charity shop in the 2nd town. Suffice to say please tell your children not to try playing hide'n'seek while mum's perusing the cheeseboards and dodgy nick nacks...

Meanwhile, Strictly seems to have become The Cartwheel Show - will we see Gavin cart-wheelin' next week (that is, if his not-very-good tango was enough to keep him in)? And the I'm Ann Fly Me bit? What was that for? Oh, for fun... I'll try to remember that, instead of thinking of it as some doomed civil engineering manouevre...

Argos And The Aubergine

Pizza has been avoided since Thursday's burglar alarm capers - I have been been doing Proper Food! Yesterday I even discovered what a warm salad was (soggy roast veg basically. 'Course, I knew that). Served up a blinder of chunky mushroom slices and other assorted veggies roasted in butter . Ok, it was only Anchor, but it's still early days... Although I got carried away and chucked everything that was lurking in the bottom of the fridge onto the table. Result - the "healthy" table Gillian McKeith presents to the junkfood guzzlers after she's scared them to death with the Table Of Lard-Laden Products Formerly Known As Their Staple Diet.

Very enchanted by Strictly - how on earth did Felicity manage to be "sooo bendy", and felt gutted for Gavin when Craig told him the floorboards in his flat had more movement. I'd get the dry rot people in pronto, if I were you Craig... Just can't get the Jungle Book song outta my head though...

Later on Saturday night there was a 3am full-on domestic in my street - a blonde in impossible heels and a micro skirt was extremely Tired And Emotional... and giving it large with a repertoire that would have made a navvy blush. An entire brace of 3, yes threeeeeee, police cars rocked up to tactfully suggest the young lady might like to return to her own house...

My loadsa-money-spree (in Peacocks, all best acrylic, dahling) has been very uplifting - have been rocking the new knitted dresses with a variety of skinny jeans, leggings, boots... depending whether its a trip to Argos or the Baker's Oven.

Have decided to start looking out for old mirrors - the fancy silver hand mirrors that once upon a time would have been on every art deco dressing table in the land. Think they will look fab hanging up along the stairs. Good job I hardly ever lug the hoover up there - less chance of knocking them all off the wall...

Tomorrow I am playing badminton. Now that will be an interesting wardrobe experience. The nearest thing I own that they might allow onto a court is some black sparkly pumps, but I don't want the rest of my ensemble to be toooo conspicuous - don't want to draw attention to the fact that I am Highly Nervous Of All Things That Fly Anywhere Near Head Height.

Have rediscovered how utterly faberoonie Duran Duran were - there has indeed been Some Dancing Around The Kitchen....

Anyone Want A Man In A Cheap Suit?

Alright, I admit - time to come clean. There probably won't actually be much in the way of the promised Claudia-Coiffure-Calamity-Critiquing... because:
a) the look this series of ITT is much more sensible-of-fringe, less brunette wanting to look like an olde english sheepdog as per last series (whenever the camera panned back, post-enthusiastic-arm-wave-to-departing-guests, our Claudia would be looking a little dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards in the hair department).
b) Important Meetings seem to have been held at the BBC involving deportment advice and sending someone over the road to Boots for some Totally-Claudia-Proof-Hair-Product. There may, too, have been some concerned fanmail begging Claudia to keep her hair out of her eyes, lest she develop a nasty stye...

Anyhows, onto tonight's little half hour of joy... our New National Treasure and her partner Mr-Stage-Name (Because My Old One Was Too Common). This duo's strategy was revealed as being to adlib everything, call it art and give Ann all the credit for it, while Anton is forced to shut up and put up. And she got away with calling his suit cheap. Bless...

This hilarity led to a revelation from the 11 year old - that when I laugh, I don't actually laugh, I just shake. Enough to make him nearly fall off the sofa. Fancy that, I'd never realised...

Earlier today, in lieu of running around a large building in search of young people to impart my wisdom to, I had An Official Day Off. Gleefully pre-planned as Me Time. That is, the kind of Me Time that involves going into Grown Up Shops That Sell Nice Things, and not the other kinds of Me Time which entail running round Tescos or lying on the sofa.

I encountered the usual charming town scenery en route, namely a small boy leaping about unsupervised outside the tattoo parlour (can't think why ADHD sprang to mind there), a bunch of junkies outside Argos, and best of all, The Local Widow Twanky Who Sits Outside Poundland Being Sharon Stone.

And later, on exiting Local Reasonably Priced Chainstore, having to stand aside to avoid being knocked over by 2 pram-pushing young girls of, lets just say, ample build making a beeline for a rail of baggy t-shirts was rewarded by the irony of hearing one of them shrilling " I love over-sized things".

Malfunction Of The Burglar Alarm Variety

And so today.. wrapped up the present for the 9 year old sprog-of-cousin, ready for a post-office-lunchtime-dash, did a morning of brain-battering maths class, legged it across the park, paid stupid ££ for the surcharge to get it there for the birthday tomorrow (soooo disorganised and lastminute.com, tut)... found time to grab a coffee once back at the office, then had to make it up to the 5th floor in ONE minute. I know - I timed myself!!!! And took about 7 minutes for my heart to stop racing. That can't be good, surely.

Ambled home via the pretty route, casually window-shopping for knitted dresses. (As opposed to the usual route - a car-park-cut-through, a traffic-lights-dicing split second dash, and then an uphill 6-abreast-teenager dodge, as that way usually coincides nicely with chucking out time at the nearby human zoo). Picked up milk, bread, and 3 kinds of biccies at the corner shop, and had a chat with corner-shop-son about lack of paying jobs for graduates, economics, outsourcing.... and put key in the door, ready for a cup of tea and a catch-up with the kids.

"The emo's bedroom light's not working. And this one doesn't either..."
Uh oh. But this girl knows what to do. No, not phone a man.....

Torch? Under my bed, 2 floors up. Fetched.
Access to meter cupboard? Blocked by large plastic crate containing wii and paraphernalia (so-far-won't-work & "donated" to kids by ex - in lieu of having to visit them???)
Peer at fuse board consumer unit thing - state of the art, put in last year, so most reliable item in the house at the moment.
See that some switches are in the "off" position. Realise too late that the electrician has labelled one as "?" and has left another 4 not labelled.
Flick up "lights" one - yay! One hitch - burglar alarm starts wailing.... Loudly. And continuously.

Punch in 4 digit code. Still wailing. 4 digit code plus #. Still wailing. 4 digit code plus *. Still wailing.... Get screw driver, open burglar alarm fuse cupboard, to suss out how to disconnect the alarm from the electric supply. Only to find it is actually The Cupboard of Doom - wiring from hell, and no sign of anything I can pull out that might not actually be live.

By now I am becoming Headless Chicken-esque. Up to this point, my calm-in-a-crisis rating has been exceedingly good, don't you agree?

Notice the chap over the road washing his car seems to be oblivious to the fact our house may have been being ransacked, or have developed Severe Electrical Malfunction. Just as well I Knew What To Do... Wonder about knocking next door to ask the Very Capable Young Couple to help... but feel that to be a step too far. Ring the boyfriend instead. No answer at work. Nor on mobile.

Rummage in cupboard for file of useful numbers of Professional Bloke Types... last year's meter-installing electrician. Will have to get him out on Very Expensive Crisis Rate... but actually he's lovely, and talks to me about batteries going into meltdown and tripping and stuff, and advises me to rip out the battery in the alarm cupboard, and if that doesn't work, he'll come over and let me pay him to help me smash the box on the front of the house to get the battery out of that. Not too sure whether that's technical competency or taking the piss...

Is it going to burn down? the 11 year old asked.
The house? No, it'll be fine. (Trust me, I'm a vintage-collecting scruff of a superwoman single mum who knows a good wall colour and a Patricia Urquoila chair when she sees it, but electrics??? *scratches head and feels a bit helpless*)

Anyhow, the boyfriend then phones back, and comes round to have a look. Between us, we have the alarm turned off, back on again but making strangled parrot noises, off again, heave sigh of relief and remove the fuse from the alarm cupboard... only for the bloody thing to start wailing again. Fuse duly gets put back in. Put the "lights" switch back on again.... and the wall of noise stops. And stays stopped.

At this point dinner really is going to be uber-late. Go to fridge - broccoli, cabbage, dodgy things in bowls from, ooh, last week... open freezer. Stalactites hanging from outside of drawers... someone didn't close it properly last time... and feel that delving into freezer will create an even worse mess. Have inspired idea that dialling-for-dinner will buy me enough time'n'energy for sorting mess out later.

This one should really be called "Tonight's Excuse For Missing Most Of It Takes Two... Part (II)", but obviously something alluding to my burglar alarm crisis might possibly make it look like my life is a bit racier than it actually is. So, tonight's reason for missing the beginning of Claudia is because I was still cooking the dinner, but in a virtual way, by ticking boxes on the Domino's buy-one-get-one-half-price site. Though I did see enough of ITT to clock that Claudia was wearing a top that I'm sure my mother had as a lampshade circa 1978. But I'll say no more, as she was rocking some fab leopardskin stilettoes the other night.

ps Could just possibly get a Strictly USA habit too - just found out Alice Cooper's going to be on it!!!!!!