Do Do Dave and Na Na Nicky

So Dave has made the headlines for getting caught humming.

Oh the joy.  The joy of knowing that there is someone out there with my habit.

Ok – so I don’t have the luxury of a microphone at these times, nor a stage in Downing Street.

But hum I do.

The good news for you Dave is that I can identify with this one.

Bloody hell that must feel good.

I’ve got your back on this one.  I know that there are humming times.

Times that can only be approached with a hum.

And not just any old hum either.

It’s been a rough few weeks and whichever side we are on (and there are quite a lot of them), I’m sure you will agree that you’ve had easier times.

But back to this humming thing though, can you believe that I do it too!!

The annoying thing being that I often don’t realise I am doing it.  I believe this is how you got caught out.  Mine is not a tuneful hum either.  It’s the hum to whatever I may be doing at the time.  A dull, monotonous hum.  A working hum.  A hum that drives anyone around me completely insane.  Particularly Iron Man.

Can you bloody well believe that ye and me have something in common though?!

There will be others too Dave.  People come out of the woodwork at times like this.  A bit like when you buy a new car and suddenly every bugger has got one.  There must be a name for that.

Talking of names, some interesting ones in the new cabinet.  This must be like office gossip at its finest.

Obviously you don’t know me (but I know you) – now that must be kind of weird.  It’s less weird if you are on Facebook and Twitter though because you can be friends with people that you don’t really know. You can follow people too.

That’s known as stalking anywhere else but on Twitter, you can fill your boots.

Also, Facebook suggests people you might like to be friends with and I’m just thinking that would probably have been the case for us.   Certainly several reasons for an association.

Because I just see more and more things we have in common.

You are of course about to move and that’s a big upheaval.

You probably won’t have had a chance to read about my loft conversion (understandable) but we are about to go through a similar upheaval.

Actually if you do get a chance, can you have a look and see what you think of the bathroom idea.

I’m guessing that you also live in an older style house and I just wondered what your views were on the high flush cistern?

Maybe run it by Sam and whilst you are about it, ask her if she’s finding she is starting to get hot flushes too.  We are similar in age.

I could go on, there is a rich vein here.

But what I’d really would love to know though is what you think about the new cabinet appointments.  You’ve obviously not always seen eye to eye with Teresa in the past but I’m guessing that you are able to take an objective view. A bit like we all try to.

I know I wouldn’t have wanted to be in her leopard print kitten heel shoes over the last few days.

I don’t suppose she would have wanted to be in ours either.

Boris was a surprise though.

I’ve never really been a fan.  Of course I’d never be rude or pass up an opportunity for a photo though.  Especially if he’s going to hang out in our area.

And talking of Boris, I hear he is going to have to share a home.

That’s really unfortunate – but do not and I repeat DO NOT let on that we will have a spare room soon.

It won’t work.  Not with the snoring.  I really need to know that I have your trust on this one.

But anyway,  back to the microphone thing.

Most of us you’ll find generally use one for Karaoke rather than for our day to day business.  And oh you should see me at Karaoke.  Forget the humming – I’d see you off the stage before you could say I’ve had the time of my life.

And talking of having the time of your life, I’m guessing your kids are breaking up soon, like mine.

I suppose you will be around a bit more this summer.  I will too. You will be muscling in on the many day trips with Sam and the children to all the local sights and parks.  Your picnic hamper will be so used to going out that your bread rolls will be lining up at the door with their coats on.

Believe me when I tell you that you will not want to see another sandwich until Christmas evening.  Neither will you ever want to eat Pizza & Chips from a polystyrene plate with a plastic spoon in a canteen ever again.

Oh and don’t forget the 2 for 1 offers on the Rice Krispies.  They will certainly save you a few bob.

I’m guessing some of your children are similar in age to my daughter.  Tweenage.  I find I have to work a bit harder on the entertainment front these days.   As in, I’m not very entertaining.  Well I am – but just not to The Kid.

Anyhow don’t get too carried away though because that’s probably where the similarity stops.

I mean it’s not all of us that get our ditty turned into a rendition of Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony on Classic FM is it.

I know this to be true because my sister-in-law told me.  She also knows you.  And she listens to Classic FM.

What luck you have!  Not that I’m jealous or anything.

Duet?

Thought not!

See you at the park then.

I’ll be humming away.

Nicky

 

 

We’re Going Through The Roof

A decision has been very quickly reached in the household in the last few weeks.

Not just reached, but put into action.  There really is no stopping us.

Quite swift work I should say.

The decision has been made to go up rather than out.

I talk not about our svelte-like physiques but our home.

We have decided to have a loft conversion.

Rumour has it that this is due to Iron Man’s terrible snoring.

Personally, I will not have a word said against this man.  

It’s bad enough that he is going to be losing some key ‘man space’.

Lofts (particularly ours) are his domain.   The place where he goes to ‘not put things away properly’.  My only role is to shout futile instructions from the bottom of the ladder.

I do the occasional ‘Ofloft’ inspection and have made some very useful recommendations.  Whether or not they have been acted upon is another matter.

Finding boot sale stuff in the Christmas section is really hurtful when you’ve put so much effort into being the remote assistant.  

But it’s none of these things.  It’s space and we need more of it.  Actually, we want more of it. 

But what we gain in space we lose in storage.

This will mean a bit of fine tuning in the hoarding department.

Well more than that.  More like a damn good clear out, several hissy fits and floods of sentimental tears as we say goodbye to a lot of stuff that I we would probably rather keep.

I cannot stand clutter but I also don’t like to part with sentimental things.

I realise that makes me sound quite mad and I’m sure that when I hug my curtains from John Burns Drive, my first big girl home of 25 years ago, I will appear even madder.

The fact that these curtains have been in the roof for 20 years and are unlikely to come out again means that their journey down the loft ladder will probably be their last.

I’m still going to have a bloody good cry though.  They were my pride and joy.   My lovely top floor flat in Barking could well have been a Penthouse in Manhattan.  It was that wonderful.

I guess a good sign that an item is no longer useful is when it’s still in the removal box from the last home.

And our Christmas department would rival Selfridges.

The fact that we have a tree with three sides – is precisely what makes us the people that we are.

The fact that we have several other trees is evidence that we have aspirations to muscle in on the Harrods Parade.

And having stored clothes from Age 0-50 also means we could deck out floors 1-5 too.

And then there’s the cards.  Every card of The Kid’s for the last 10 years – birth, Christmas and birthday.  My cards, my parents cards and cards to and from people I don’t actually know.  That is going to be tricky.

And shock horror – the 18th & 21st keys.  That’s half the loft for starters.

Do people even have these keys anymore?  Do people even know what they are?

I wonder.

Such a rite of passage to receive and yet they serve no purpose, other than to sit in the loft.

Then comes Memory Boxes – and – well let’s just say it’s rubbed off on The Kid.

My memory boxes contain everything that’s ever made me smile, laugh or cry.  That’s one hell of a lot of things.

The Kid now has a memory section of her own and I only have myself to blame.

So my question today is :

‘Is it possible to be sentimental when you have no space?’

What do people do with their ‘stuff’?

The upside of all of this is that I get to exercise my creative side and start planning what it’s going to look like.

This is the fun bit.  One bedroom, one bathroom.

20 million colours and designs to choose from.  Not very long to do so.

No particular ideas as yet, other than a few thoughts around copper and silver.

I shall be checking in again with more thoughts around colours and designs soon.

If you don’t hear from me, it will probably be because I’m trying to decide on a sink!

Until next time

Nicky