I turned my heating on the day after the Yarn Harlot turned her furnace on.  In fact, I turned it on late last night.  I still haven't managed to get as far as shutting the bedroom window in my room, but, essentially, I feel that I rock.  It is OK to have the heating on.  It should not matter, but it does.

Besides, on Tuesday morning the park looked like this:

Bit of frost, but lots of grass.

On Wednesday, it was like this:

More snow, more blue sky.

It had been snowy:

When I'd gone into the theatre, a mere three and a half hours earlier, there was sleet but nothing had settled properly.  Yes, that is Dolores.  She was trying to get the Islington Cultural Vote.

There was ice:

And, naturally, London ground to a bit of a halt on Tuesday night, in panic.  The buses were confused and misty-windowed.  I was at the Almeida for much of the evening, watching 'Waste', and having a lovely time.  It was a beautiful, thought-provoking, production.  I did like the costumes, and, one of these days, I must ask the Director, once again, how he chooses the music to go between scenes.  He does have rather a penchant for 20th Century Piano Music.

Last night wasn't quite so full of precipitation, but it was an awful lot colder, and I could have done with an extra blanket, bringing the grand total to 5.  The hot water bottle gave out at about 5 am, you see.

Am having dreadful difficulties getting up.  The Stock Market is lurching upwards, but, this week I've been greeted with the news that Rupert Penry-Jones has left Spooks, and David Tennant is doing four special episodes and then bowing out as The Doctor.  Both pieces of news are vaguely upsetting, in a sort of 'I am faintly traumatised but I have not had my coffee yet and, heck, I keep missing episodes anyhow' but there is the hope that at some point, I'll be able to see both on stage.  Seriously.  Rupert Penry-Jones is about the only cast member of Cambridge Spies that I have not seen on stage....

xxx

The Essex Boy: "I have my own bathroom, which means I don't have to wait around for any woman, and I can twirl around it, singing 'I'm so pretty!'".

It is a shame he is not wearing his pretty pink salmon shirt today.  There would be so much more mileage in teasing him.  As it is, he claims he's not thinking of West Side Story when he sporadically breaks into song, but that film with Jack Nicholson.  His other favourite songs are the theme to the Antiques Road Show, and the theme to Zefirelli's Romeo & Juliet.  He sings or whistles as the mood takes him....

xxx

...there was an argument to turn the heating on before November, I think this weather forecast is it:

Not only is it threatening to drop below freezing in the middle of the night, but it's going to try and snow.  In October.  Most peculiar.  This is London, not Michigan.

I'm going to the theatre tonight, to see Waste at the Almeida.  I shall not be home early enough to turn the heating on for this evening, but I do hope that I remember to turn it on so that we are not shivering tomorrow morning.  And maybe, just maybe, if I turn the heating on, then the clothes that have been hanging on the rack in my sitting room since Sunday will actually dry, rather than sitting there in a faintly damp state and steaming up the windows.  Incidentally, I think I'm doing a cracking job creating condensation on most windows at the moment, and must get the towel out to start mopping them before the wood takes it into its head to rot.

xxx

After a terrifically good night out (the company was excellent the food, alas, banal but fuelling), I get a random text from Mr. Still Attached, to the tune of he keeps deleting my number from his phone to prevent drunk dialling or texting escapades, like he's texting now, and, by the way, tomorrow's match has been cancelled, and he hopes I'm well.  Then he sends another text, just to make sure I know who it is texting.  I sit there, vaguely wonder how on earth, if he has deleted my number, he has my number and thus exactly to whom he has been talking and what he's been saying, and from whom I am going to receive a quantity of stick in the near future, and text the President of the Rugby Club to try and work out what the heck is going on.  He too is wide awake at gone midnight BST, and says 'no game, you're off the hook if you want, but we're still practising'.  Since I rearranged my entire weekend, and that of many of my friends, around this late fixture - it was only properly confirmed on Monday - I will be going out.  Queenie's thumb, you see.  I am sitting here happily rolling my eyes in exasperation.  Honestly, this year's committee is thoroughly disorganised.  Besides, the last time a match was cancelled, they chalked up one dislocated shoulder and a broken nose....  Mr Still Attached texts a third time, at silly o'clock in the morning, to inform me that he's been hit on by 4 guys, one of whom thought he was very sexy.  This is apparently a matter of pride after a night's drinking.  Fortunately, I was not woken by the text (texts rarely do wake me since I took the vibrate alert off the phone after a night's worth of it clattering across the glass-topped bedside table).  I am rather hoping that he has the hangover from hell today.

However, if I am to go out to rugby, I am left with a shade over an hour in which to sort out the Brownies' Accounts and also address envelopes about the tree planting trip, and probably haul the first load of laundry out of the washing machine.  So, because I am a horrible, evil flatmate, I leave you with a picture of my Extremely Tall Flatmate's socks.  It's the sheer quantity that astounds here.  It's more breathtaking than the Intern's collection of plaid boxer shorts.  I find it vastly amusing.

xxx

Noon: definitely no match, Queenie does not want his thumb strapped (frankly, based on the quantity of blackberry emails, it must be functional anyhow) and it's raining.  Since I was a cat in a former life, I am not going outside.  Well. Except to do the chores that involve going to Boots (I am almost out of nail varnish remover and really must get those photos printed).

xxx

Ssssh!  Ssssh!

It's oh, so still....

Camden is ridiculously still and quiet at 6am on a Sunday.  The Tubes are, I think, just about running, but it is far too early for anyone to be considering setting up a market stall.  It is far too late for anyone to be staggering home, drunk, from one of the clubs.  The baby downstairs is sleeping peacefully, which is a bit of a relief.

A very occasional car drives past, however, it's generally not the sort of car that makes the floor vibrate with the crashing thump of something that sounds like 'Mr Bombastic', but probably isn't.  The birds have apparently not yet twigged that morning is on the way (or, in the manner of city birds, failed to twig that it is, indeed, nighttime and they're not supposed to sing). They are terribly quiet as well.

And this little tecchie is heading back to bed (possibly going 'wee wee wee wee' in the manner of the smallest piggy, but more likely rather sedately and clutching a cup of camomile tea), as she's been phoned by India yet again (fourth call this weekend), and the server might be down, but she can't see it.

Oh cruel, cruel fate.  Just as I wrote that, they phoned back, with more detail.

Can someone tell me why I can see it, and they can't?

(oh yeah, the clocks have gone back in the US, but not yet in the UK - so it's not 5am, but 6am here.  Once again, Xanga has failed to recognise this!)

xxx

She looked a little peaky, did our Guide, last night: she was the only Guide who cam to church parade on Sunday, so we were going to make a big fuss of her.

Just as we were about to make a fuss, she hiccuped, cupped her hands, and shot to the lavatory, with me charging ahead to hold the door open.  There, she was sick in such a copious manner, that merely thinking about it invokes a reflex.  Faced with the reality, I am glad that a. Smiley Owl was around to clear up (she works in a nursery, she has a stronger stomach) and b. I actually managed to keep everything down myself, as it was rather a close run thing.  She looked much better for being sick though, as is so often the way.

The journey home from Guides involved dodging both blood on the pavement, dog-poo and puddles of wee (at 10pm?  Seemed a little early for that, to be honest).  I live in such a salubrious area.

List.

• Launder sheets
• Launder jumpers
• Other Laundry (white wash only)
• Promise Certificates Brownies
• Brownies Accounts
• Sort out return of coin counting machine as it Does Not Work (v. disappointed) Email sent, requesting to return it for refund. Email received offering replacement, and not needing to return it.  Think will take that.
• Leave Feedback eBay You know what? Easier to leave negative feedback when other people have also left negative feedback.
• Crochet Edging Dishy Barrister's Scarf, block, photograph Scarf blocking, I decided against the edging as being too homespun for words.
• Assemble Le Pull Français Second sleeve nearly set
• Wedding card Dishy Barrister & Fiançée Do this at Paperchase. Postpone until Monday, have just remembered I have Rugby.
• Do Not Turn on Heating, the Heating is Not Going On Until November So Help Me God.  Doors closed, will head blanket-wards soon.  Flatmate has fan heater, just so I can put off the evil day a little longer.  I shall have a hot water bottle tonight.
• Phone Little Miss Bouncy #3's Mum re tree planting trip
• Write yet another cheque for this trip following phone call
• Chase Little Miss Bouncy #1's Mum re tree planting trip cheque (lost)
• Invite Household Cavalry to Brownies.
• Tidy Sitting Room  Tis full of laundry, please miss, may I be excused?  Acksually, it seems to be getting a bit tidier as the weekend progresses, and I put things away gently.
• Tidy Bedroom
• ?Supermarket Monday
• Black paper from Paperchase Monday
• Deliver Mosaic Tiles to Neighbours Dumped outside front door with note.
• Forms re. Sleepover (visit Outdoors Activity Adviser, get her to sign them, mail them myself using Special Delivery, since the last 2 or 3 she's done for me haven't actually been done properly)  Ended up walking home from Parliament Hill, owing to complete and utter lack of bus.  Now totally exhausted.
• Fill in insurance quote forms
• Request forms for a Brownies bank account from Nat West
• Start OHP's mittens Found the relevant measurements.  This is a Good Start, but not actually a start...
• Get interrupted by being On Call (yes, again - it's my weekend to be on call: usually, it's just one night a fortnight plus one weekend in every 8.  This week I've had a shift swap) Three Four Six times so far!
• Investigate whether DVD player can be repaired Visited www.howtomendit.com, and discovered that it's probably the ribbon between the drive and the motherboard.  Took DVD player apart.  Poked.  Got DVD player to pick up that there was a disk, which was progress, so will take player for professional poking re. ribbon, as I think this is the problem.  Also poked at the cogs, and it rattles way less, so, one or other of those is the root cause.
• Mend fan heater (Flatmate complaining of cold). So mended, so easily.  The fan was rattling, so I took that apart, and tightened the nut holding it all in place.
• Rugby On Sunday (which I nearly forgot about entirely). One concussion, a couple of knees and an ankle that's on its way out, and needs archilles strapping lesson.
• Make Pizza Bases/Biscuits for Brownies Monday too  Or perhaps Tuesday. Or never ever.
• Wash Hair
• Eat chocolate

xxx

Using 'please' and 'thank you' will pay dividends when you phone helpdesk.  Using salutations in the initial email makes us happy.  Sending an email to tell us that it works, it's been fixed, and saying thank you gives us the warm fuzzies and we will try harder next time: we like being appreciated.

Please do not yell.  Keeping calm, and listening helps.  Get to know your helpdesk, and then you'll know who's really helpful.  You'll begin to learn who to ask for.  Remember, it can be quite a strain to translate tech speak into non-tech speak, and this is frustrating for both sides of the conversation.

Please bear in mind that it is not the fault of the hapless person on the other end of the phone if your problem can't be fixed today.  The person who should fix it may be ill, on holiday, or, like me, have been rudely awakened at 3am because a server had fallen over.

Those of us who have been rudely awakened at 3am may well be paid overtime for the privilege of being rudely awakened at 3 am, however, brains do not work at 3am.  Firstly, I had to think really hard about how to answer the phone (couldn't remember where the button was - never mind that the screen had a little "answer" icon just above it).  Then I had to use entirely new-to-me and undocumented (yes, I looked, hard) technology to work out what to do with the server.  All I could remember was that there's one button I should not press.  I could not remember which button this was. The server took fully 8 minutes to respond to being 'pinged' after I'd power-cycled it (a very clever way to restart a machine that is not where you are, and which you cannot remotely connect to).  This was nerve-wracking to say the least.  Finally, all that gazing at a bright screen for an hour rendered me entirely unable to sleep before 5 am, possibly later, I did not look, I did not want to know.  Quite apart from the fact that being woken up at 3 am is enough to make anyone panic, and fear grips your heart at that hour in a quite unexpected manner.

Thus, I am crochety, I am not keen on other people interrupting, and I am prioritising my own way...  I have not yet eaten lunch, and I was late into work, despite having logged onto the server again at 8.45 am (when I got up) in order to molly coddle it a little further.

I'm going to the Post Office now.  I have reason to think the queue might not be out of the door.

xxx

I get six inches cut off my hair and not ONE of them has noticed.

xxx

• Bake Brownies, Fairy Cakes, Flapjacks, Cookies of some type, Millionaire's Shortbread , Chocolate Cornflake Cakes. What else can I bake for a bake sale next week?  Gingerbread? All ready for decorating
• Muster forces to knit at Brownies Email sent
• Muster veterans for Remembrance Sunday More emails sent
• Laundry Begun
• Brownies Accounts
• Send letter to Brownie who wants to come tree-planting, but who missed previous letters on subject. Can't find letters.
• Work Saturday night
• Rugby Sunday It's not quite being rained off. Blast.  This means standing in the cold and wet. It's been demoted to a training session.  I do not need to turn out.
• Actually sort out the things we need for the Rugby First Aid Kit this term Have delegated the final choices to the Marine.  Can't cope with his descriptions of 'Cervical Collar' and Sam Splints.  Well, I sort of can, but a. they are expensive and b. I want to get the right things and c. he'll be the one applying them.
• Locate Hawaiian shirt
• Tidy sitting room
• Tidy bedroom In Progress: really must declutter dressing table
• Work out which pages of Martha Stewart Living need copying
• Try to feel less like a failure  Just remembered one of the nice Brownies told me that I'm always nice and smiley.  Feel somewhat better for this.  Also bought flowers, a pretty mix of roses, carnations and something else purple for £2.
• Sleep (because I didn't get to sleep until about 4 am Saturday on Friday night)  And the period pains from hell which woke me at 1.30 am didn't exactly make for much sleep. Once again, I gave thanks that I was able to squirm and wriggle and so forth, without disturbing anyone else.  I hope it'll be better tonight.
• Order Mum's Christmas present Hurrah, also found a decently priced lavender candle on the site.
• Wrap Eff's present, give it to her on Sunday She's coming round to decorate biscuits.
• Wrap new baby booties
• Photograph Dishy Barrister's Scarf. Not inclined to: I knitted backwards on Saturday night.  I shall finish it first.  So nyah.
• Eat chocolate.

xxx