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pink_hebe
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Name: pink_hebe
Gender: Female
Interests: Knitting, Ceilidhs, Musicals, Guides, Chalet School stories (collection and writing thereof), Bluegrass and mandolin (amateur status), Dancing, pedantry...
Expertise: Fluttering my eyelashes and getting my own way
Occupation: Computer related
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
6/18/2004
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| Having realised that I entitled the last entry 'Knackered', I cannot do the same with this one. However, I am. Tired. I think that the high from the post-rugby-match-festivities (which is enhanced by drinking full-sugar cola drinks, as that's the only non-alcoholic beverage available), is followed swiftly by a Sunday evening low. A low where I think that I haven't heard from my Welshman all weekend. Well. He did phone, but I missed the call and he didn't leave a message. A low where it's dark, and grey, and wet, and horrible, and grim outside. Wet and windy all day, and my umbrella broke, and I lost a glove on the bus and my dairy-free-cream-cheese has a crack in the tub and I need to Get Stuff Out for Dad and there is still a fridge in my sitting room and a couple of rust stains on the carpet. Oh winter. Can I hibernate? I need to do the following before I go to bed - make the bed
the Brownies accountspack up the router so it can be reprogrammed tomorrow morning. Also pack up the parcels that need to be taken to the post office to be mailed.- finish knitting the collar on Mum's sweater (a knitting black hole if ever there was one, the cowl collar)
eat something vaguely sensible and healthy, having had crisps and cake for lunch, and a mid-afternoon snack of boeuf bourginon and rice after rugby. Slice of toast with a topping of some of the rescued side of the dairy-free-cream-cheese, plus mini tomatos (tomatoes?) and carrots. Also, orange juice.make tomorrow's packed lunch.
Sigh. Again. xxx
Spoke to my Welshman, and we will have a picnic on Tuesday (hurrah! I think. Anyhow, I get to see him, which will be lovely as I miss him). The Great Dane Puppy's girlfriend has arrived and informed me that I look tired (does she not have a place of her own? Am now keeping a record of when she's here as I'm getting to the point where I feel it is too often, but I want to work out if that's my perception or no.) . Must. Pack. Stuff. And then make the damn bed. I want to have a bath and get straight into it afterwards. Making the bed is a loathed activity. Perhaps I should cave, and give up on the five blankets, and have a duvet? xxx | | |
| I would love to share my weekend, and my new kitchen. However, I am made of knackered, and have caught up wtih emails instead. I still need to order my cooker spare parts. xxx | | |
| Put kitchen contents back into kitchenTake photos of kitchen so you chaps can see (please excuse missing tiles etc. It is a Work In Progress).Debate with my Welshman what to do about the old fridge. Freecycle or get the Council to collect? It's not in the best of nick.- Write up the excitements of yesterday.
Sort out route for walk for Guides on Friday and walk it.Buy paint Weirdly, Hobbycraft didn't like my card. However, I've managed to order a drawer divider with it since. Odd. Odd.Brownies AccountsHoover sitting roomMove sitting room back to correct arrangement (bar fridge).Find a set of drawer dividers for the cutlery drawer (don't Lakeland do something modular?)Knit or sew or somethingWrap Emma's birthday present ready for 28th- Order spare parts for oven need to identify one of them, but, yes, have found the other.
Laundry begun
OK. Must get on. There's a lot of crates and stuff to move. Maybe I should get dressed too? Can we have a vote on that? I'm happy to declare a moratorium on getting dressed until you guys make up your minds  PJs are quite comfy, but my toes are cold. xxx | | |
| Weird. My Welshman turned up for about three minutes before I went out for dinner with my Daddy, and then took himself off back to his...So much for having a snuggle last night. He has, thankfully, found somewhere more permanent to live. With granite worksurfaces, sharing with a pair of brothers. Apparently I am allowed to stay occasionally, but guests shouldn't happen more than 2 or 3 times a month. I wonder if girlfriends really count as guests. It doesn't have any bathroom at present, so I wouldn't actually want to stay at the moment anyhow. Therefore, in my lonely state, I added another blanket to the bed, and thus was warm. It helps that it rained most of last night (Dad and I got very wet trousers), so it wasn't too cold outside. I like having my bedroom window open year round. It gets stuffy otherwise. The kitchen is looking like a kitchen. The electric junction box seriously needs re-doing in the near future, and some re-tiling is required. Also the floor needs to go down. This is going to drag on a bit. Oh well. Such is life. I'm also perturbed that I've lost some cupboard space and I need to buy a shorter ironing board. But, hurrah, the plumbing will work, and things will drain, and the new cupboards are bigger and things aren't disintegrating. There was such a quantity of rubbish in that kitchen, and a good deal of it will not be moved back in. Shelves. I need to get some blue shelves too, and something to sling the microwave from. xxx | | |
| For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free. Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears. They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe. They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them. They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam. But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night; As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain. Lawrence Binyon
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