Tag: <span>HUGE</span>

Mum is home!

Look, here she is as she walked through the front door!

Mum is home

Thank you to everyone for their kind messages of support here, and on Facebook which I’ve been using a lot more to keep people, family members in particular, around the world up to date. It’s been so handy even my Dad has signed up! (prompting a mad changing of my permissions… 😉 ).

There is still a journey ahead, Mum will be working hard on her physio to get full movement back in her hand, arm and leg, but the fact she can sleep in her own bed (or her own sofa) will make a HUGE difference. Case in point, after being home for an hour she sat quietly for a second then said, “just listen to that silence”, and promptly fell asleep.

Elsewhere, life continues apace. I’ve been to the gym for only the third time this year, have tickets for a few comedy gigs in the coming fortnight, not to mention the Faithless gig (tickets purchased before I realised it was their final tour).

I’m also considering cycling from Glasgow to Edinburgh (51 miles) in September (for charidee, mate).

I guess I need to buy a bike…

* Title stolen shamelessly from the wonderful, talented, funny Shauna of What’s New Pussycat.

Health Life

If you get a moment go check out www.mclean.com or for that matter www.mclean.co.uk. I own neither unfortunately.

Both are high-level domains, both are classed as desirable (read, expensive) and both are currently being used… for nothing. Well I’m sure they bring in money for the person who owns them and has them sitting their forlornly with nothing but adverts on them.

It’s rather sad.

And very bloody annoying.

I pay for the domain names I have and I don’t mind doing so but having contacted the owners of these particularly domain names, domain names which obviously I might, maybe, be interested in using (dear first time reader, let me introduce myself, I’m Gordon McLean). Alas I’ve either heard nothing or the topic turnst to money and some rather large amounts are mentioned.

So, I’m setting up a blog appeal to raise sufficient fu…. no, I’m not really.

I just wanted to say that, you know, it’s annoying. My Mum and Dad have put HUGE amounts of effort into tracing our genealogy and where better to start putting the information than in the domain name for our family.

To be frank it just seems mean that these people are allowed to sit on these domain names and do nothing with them or than earn money for hosting adverts. Isn’t the internet supposed to be better than that?? They are the worst kind of leech and whilst I know that this blog post isn’t going to change their opinion (I’m sure they will point to the $xyz dollars they earn each year by sitting on those domains) it’s just a bit… crap.

Work

In between showers we got a little more gardening done and cleaned out the garage. Relocated around 20 spiders but couldn’t find where ‘the biggest spider in the world’* disappeared to between trips to the skip. I’m hoping he won’t mug me later on for disposing of his buddies.

Also disposed of a dead mouse. Tragically it fell into an empty bin and couldn’t clamber out. Shame.

Right now I’ve got a heat pack on my back – hurts like a bastard.

Last night we had the pleasure of being taken out to dinner as an early birthday celebration for my sister (we ended up getting her some Very Valentino perfume). The Grapevine in Bothwell (right across the road from our old flat) is always a treat and my Medallions of Beef followed by Panacotta were to die for… alas the scallops weren’t a good choice of starter for me but you win some you lose some. I was only trying them anyway as I’m not a huge seafood fan. The beef was succulent, the panacotta smooth. If you are ever in the area I highly recommend it.

Also bumped into Chris and Fiona, both doing well except I forgot to ask about their wedding plans. Doh.

Anyhoo, tea-time soon, then a hot bath, then a review of my to-do list.

* World = My garage – but the fucker was HUGE I tells ya..

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There should be a law against it.

Strike that, there should be a law FOR it.

Yesterday around lunchtime our neighbour started clumping and thumping about. This was followed swiftly by the unmistakable sound of an electric drill, followed by a long session with a hammer. From the length of time and frequency of hammering, I can only assume that he was building an ark (I may be exaggerating here).

Yesterday just before lunchtime we had decided not to go to the cinema, and have a lazy day around the house. We got dressed in our ‘lounging about clothes’, put the kettle on and started looking through the papers. Needless to say we were slightly hacked off when Noah started up next door. But hey, it wouldn’t be for long, would it?

Two hours later we were starting to re-assess our plans and were royally pissed off. An hour and a half beyond that we were just about to get changed and head out when, all of a sudden, the clouds broke, sunlight streamed through and Noah stopped hammering. The floods had obviously reached their peak and he had to set sail.

Now, at that point it was obvious that laws should be made. No hammering or any manner of loud D.I.Y. on a Sunday. Period.

But this morning, as we drove out of our street and saw the discarded wood and debris from yesterday’s ark building (but, strangely no evidence of “two of every animal”) I re-considered. “Let them build!” I declared (to myself, lest my wife decide to not stop at the station but continue to the sanatorium – which is, handily, just across the road).

Why this sudden change of heart? The killing of cats is why. I wanted to know what he’d been building (I didn’t really think there was an ark in his bedroom, don’t be so silly). I needed to know what he was building. Considering the fact that we’d, sort of, been involved in the creation of this 9th wonder of the world I was eager to see it, to marvel in it’s glory. It was my right. It should be law!

What was he building? A wardrobe? A walk-in closet? Was he putting up shelves (with a hammer?), or knocking a hole in the wall? Perhaps a mezzanine? Although with only 7ft ceilings I doubt it… Whatever he was up to I feel it is only right that I be able to find out, and I don’t see why I have to be civil, indulge in pleasantries, or generally butter up the neighbours just to find out what he spent 3 hours building.

The same law should also include a clause to allow anyone to visit their old houses to see what the new owners have done with the place (or in the case of our first flat to let me see the bedroom window which was installed the day before we moved out whilst I was down in Aylesbury). I’m particularly keen to see my Gran’s old house. Three floors, high ceilings, potentially wonderful. I wonder what it’s like now – I drive past it on my way to my Gran’s these days and marvel that it has a new roof, double-glazing and, no doubt, central heating (I often wonder if they kept the HUGE old side-board, carved from oak, which must’ve weighed almost a ton).

So, I urge you all to write to your MP, this law must come to pass.

Dammit, someone has beaten me to it.

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Dammit, Vaughan keeps making me think… (actually it wasTinka).

We live in an age of instant communications. Why write a letter when you can email someone and receive a response in hours rather than days (depending on the person of course). Want the latest news? Check out your constantly streaming ticker app, hey, it even flashes if the news is really important! Got a mobile phone? Send a quick txt msg! (see I DO know all the clever …ehhh …textisms??)

Except surely it would be quicker to speak to the person. You know, you create noise from your mouth and the person on the other end of the phone interprets it and replies in kind… conversation I think they call it. Wow, what a radical concept, think it will ever catch on? Tell you what I’ll run it past the group of schoolkids I saw the other day, standing at the school gates, mobile phones in hand, txting away. Whatever happened to British Bulldog?

I should point out that this is a HUGE case of ‘pot… kettle… black’. I am easily the worldest worst for NOT keeping in touch with people. Ask anyone I went to school with, actually don’t bother, they’ll have forgotten who I am by now.

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