Lifeboat Muster Point for TalkExiles - Thread 2

[Kucingsparkles]

Continuation of previous thread.

Gather here all ye refugees from the foundering ship of JTT, if ye be in need of "How the heck do I format my post?" "Why can't I edit my typos?" "What do those acronyms mean?" and most importantly, "Where is everybody that I used to know?"

Or just to chat randomly.

@Dotellhimpike I recall that bit in High Fidelity. That's an excellent analogy with JtT.

Co-incidentally, that is one of the books I am reading. Not read NH before, but he's very funny. Got his book on Dickens and Prince ready to go. Have just finished one of the best books I've read this year, by Philippe Sands, East-West Street. An extraordinary book about four key figures, one of whom was his grandfather, all from Lwow, now Lviv. It was so good I was waking at night, to turn on the heating and continue to read it. (hardback)

Cyan. yes it is hard, and I won't brooch it again. I am hoping that after pregnancy and being a birthing person etc she may be less sure. I think her workplace were probably giving training via Stonewall.

I never understand why estate agents don't specify which way a property faces - at the back we face SW which is good, as you get the lovely light on a summer's evening - especially if you have a terrace/patio out the back. East is less good - the best way of telling an east-facing property is that there is a table and chairs at the bottom of the gaden so the owners can sit in the sun.

The piece I read which explained it said, who hasn't been at a garden party where it gets chilly as the sun sets behind the house. Who indeed, I thought! 😛

I can think of so many garden parties where coats were donned or handed out, but everyone was too pissed to have the sense to go indoors. Those were the days, eh.

The majority of my friends are of the same opinion as me. It's something we found out little by little because it's so taboo to bring it up. We were all worried that we'd be terf-ed. I have on friend that sees things differently and I love her dearly. We both understand that neither of us is a madwoman/bigot/whatever and don't talk about it at all. I fully understand where she's coming from for reasons I won't go into because they're personal and respect and support her.

-on +one

I'm a bit irked. I was pottering about and had some soup, mixed with leftover pasta at about 2pm. At 20 past 3, my wife rang and said to come to Morrisons, as they were doing a Christmas Dinner special. She'd called our girl and our refugee lady, who told her son. Me and R Lady started the 15 minute walk and my wife called in a tizz, demanding to know where we were.

I explained, and a few minutes later, she called again, to say DD wasn't there and not answering her phone. I sent R Lady on and waited near the school. After a while, my wife called to say that the specials had finished at 3:30 and why was I not there.

"I'm at school, waiting for her." Apparently, I should have realised that she'd turned up! So, we went to Spoons, instead. I told her I wasn't hungry and couldn't face eating and she got increasingly irate and told me to get an all day breakfast! I said no and she went off to order, I had a coffee. Everything then calmed down and I'm still not hungry!

Agreed. Which bits of the house and garden get the light and when is very much what I’d want to know before going to check somewhere out.

My back garden faces north(ish). There are comfy chairs on the patio for sitting in the shade in the afternoon and a bench in the back corner to get morning shade (courtesy of the dense canopy of a viburnum that was intended as one medium sized bush but became two trees by accident) and the last rays of sunshine in late afternoon. Until recently I’d have preferred the other side of the road for all day full-on sunshine but I’m increasingly glad of the shade. I would like more sun for the plants though.

And sinner, that sounds really irritating!

Yes, but all is calm and I'm now eating a slice of toast and a piece of leftover fish.

Although my larder, fridge and freezer are almost empty, I still have 16 bottles of red and white wine from my Dad, who gives us a mixed crate for Christmas and mine and macman’s birthdays. I OBVIOUSLY had to open a bottle of white for the leftover roast chicken risotto I cooked tonight, and apart from the generous slug I gave the risotto, I have just finished the whole bottle by myself, and it’s great! I so rarely drink, much preferring other recreational drugs to alcohol, so when I do I get really really pissed. Please note how brilliant my spelling, grammar and typing remain, even when bladdered.

Please note how brilliant my spelling, grammar and typing remain, even when bladdered.

And your formatting! I am in awe. And what a brilliant Dad.

It’s a great present - easy for him, and means we never have to buy wine. From The Wine Society, so there’s never a duff bottle, apart from the dry sherry in every Christmas box, which is like paint stripper.

When I lived in Hereford, Thursday night was nightclub night. We'd buy a couple of bottles of very cheap sherry - that tasted quite like communion wine - and neck that before first the pub and then the club. The pub made its own cider and you could get a pint of rough for £1. So, sherry and cider and whatever beer we drank in the club. What drunken idiots we all were. (There were also non-alcoholic enhancers but the less said about that the better).

Those were the days! 😀

I'm now assuming Crows was in the SAS.

Oh dear, the trouble with getting drunk is that I’ve just spent £250 I don’t possess on beauty advent calendars that when sober I decided I didn’t need this year, having not yet used most of the stuff I got in last year’s beauty calendars.

But as I’ve asked macman for dull stuff like new oven gloves and Clippits, I feel I deserve something lovely for me, rather than for the house.

But as a whole £2.00 of the £88 calendar I bought from Boots goes to my former “employer” Macmillan Cancer Relief, I can feel altruistic about my drunken extravagance.

Oh God. Already I’m suffering sober regrets.

🎶 Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Sauf le calendrier de l'avent beauté de Boots 🎶

I have some dinner plates in a pattern I've collected for years that is getting harder to find and more expensive. We discovered that some (thirty year old ones) were starting to crack, so Mr Brit has bought me some new replacements for Christmas. Boringly domestic looked at one way, but a great present from my perspective - we use them every day, they give me pleasure, and I've got enough books and other stuff to last me a lifetime.

@Gonners it was amusing because some lads would tell you they were in the SAS which immediately meant that they weren't. My then boyfriends dad had been, boyfriend's friend's dad and a barman at The Barrels. Apparently he had ballsed something up spectacularly. I knew what it was at some point, blowing something or other up. He was a nice man but you'd never have had him down as ex SAS. My boyfriend had a policeman brother who looked like a cross between Grant Mitchell and Nookie Bear. Boyfriend was handsome but looking back he had a bit of the Fred West about him.

Bloody fucking cat - came indoors, went into the living room, yacked up 3 separate piles of vomit, then went outside again! By the time I got to the living room with kitchen towel and my Marigolds, the dog had eaten most of the sick, although had the good grace to look disgusted as he did so.

My previous cat once vomited from the kitchen dresser directly into the dog’s eager mouth below.

In many ways, I’m glad these will be my last animals, and that one day I won’t have to deal with all this aggravation.

And now I’ve just yacked up, explosive projectile vomiting which went all over the toilet, floor and towel rail, and over the beautiful wool poncho I’d washed earlier today and hung over the towel rail to dry. And I have a headache which is probably a hangover from the bottle of wine. (That or the cat vomit infected me when I cleared it up.) Alcohol and me are FINISHED.