Donald, where's yer troosers?

A general rant about a number of things...

Jeans. Am I unusual in wanting to buy a pair of ordinary jeans? NOT made out of stretchy material? NOT full of holes? NOT looking like someone did the painting in them. And most certainly NOT leggings made to look like jeans. In Harrogate I am apparently in a minority of one.

Grammar. It is "you're", not "your", you utter half-wit. You are old enough to know better. Do it one more time and I will correct it, in red, and send a copy to all the *senior* managers you keep going on about.

Mnemonic. I know how it is spelt. However, I also know how it is pronounced. What's more, saying I "mis-remembered" doesn't soften the blow. It just makes you sound even more patronising. I do seem to to have mis-remembered why I married you at this precise moment in time though.


Thanks for listening...I needed that.

When I scream I scream about you

Can't sleep. Can't imagine why, cos I'm flippin' knackered. Don't think it's the heat as I haven't had problems the last couple of nights. I have got lots on my mind, so I going to vent here for a bit till the sleeping tabs kick in (bloody hurrah for Tylenol pm I say).

I've been up the hspital today. I got bitten on the ankle on Monday....and it has got steadily worse over the week, and is now extremely swollen, painful and ugly, so i limped off to A&E. Now, we have a marvellous hospital, with excellent medical staff at every level, but the admin staff....all cut from the same cloth as doctors receptionists I am afraid. For the record, as I am not a Daily Mail reader I would not regard Customer Care training as a waste of money. When the YTS trainee in A&E finally stopped yacking the triage nurse, and glanced in my direction, he muttered " Can i help you?" in the slightly puzzled way the youth of today have....I was a bit stumped actually....I was in A&E.....that probably narrowed down my reasons for interuppting his gossiping. "I'd like to see a doctor" I said, trying to remain dignified while standing on one leg. This seemed a new one on him, but he asked me for my date of birth..."28th August 1965" I replied. Then the saga of searching for the records began. No one with that date of birth and my name on his computer...so clearly I was a new patient...no, I said, and even listed some of the previous vists....childbirth, broken toe, removal of tonsils (see blogs passim). No - still could not be found, and his tone of voice seemed to imply i was masquerading as a previous patient just to spoil his day. Finally, after asking for any previous names I might be registered under, and my address, I appear on screen. 28th of the 8th he says in a slightly accusing tone. August was the eighth month last time I checked. Perhaps he was bunking off school that day.

Hmmm....that feels better....wonder how many stereotypes I've trotted out, and how many folk I've offended with that?

Anyway, in case you are concerned, i apparently have an infection in the insect bite, and I have antibiotics.

Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam

I moan about my job - don't we all - and quite often the moaning is justified. In fact, it is what keeps me (vaguely) sane. But sometimes...just sometimes...there is something that makes it almost bearable. Some folks envy the international travel, but you know....a boring meeting is a boring meeting whatever the timezone. Airports are crap....hotels are the same the world over.

However, this week, on a mundane trip to Leiden, one of the nice things happened. We entertained our guests by chartering a boat on the canals of Amsterdam. An hour and a half of cruising the beautifully lit waterways, while we were plied with strong drink and canapes. Then dropped at a very very nice restaurant, for dinner in a private room.

(I didn't take the picture below - foolishly forgot my camera - but you get the idea).

Please Mr Postman

Our post was not delivered until 5pm today. The Post Office are having a larf....aren't they?