What To Watch?

I need your help.

My wife is going away for a while with the kids shortly (don't worry, they're coming back!) and I shall have around two weeks on my own in the house. Now one thing I am very bad at, apart from putting my socks in the laundry basket, is watching films. So this is a perfect opportunity to catch up - but of the hundreds of possibilities out there, where to start?

In my forthcoming 'man-time', allowing for football matches & beer consumption as well as still actually having to go to work, I reckon a target of half a dozen good films is not unreasonable. They're probably going to be ones that Solveig won't be bothered about and I'll save any animated films to watch with the kids but other than that I have free rein. I think I'd like to see 'Inglourious Basterds' and I'm fairly sure I don't want to bother with 'The Road' but after that I'm open to suggestions.

What would you watch on your own in the house? Suggest away!

Overheard #100

My goodness, we've reached a ton of Overheards in a shade under two years. Which is approximately one a week, by sheer coincidence. Anyway, just now:

"Oh God, I'm so not bothered about Celebrity Big Brother."
*pause*
"So, who's on it?"

In A Spin

Another nice 'modern life is rubbish' piece from Mr Brooker (yes, I know it was a couple of weeks ago; here, have a biscuit)

Hell isn't other people.

Hell is buying washing machines from other people

Particularly fond of the final paragraph:

Someone needs to go further and launch a chain called Shambles, where all the familiar shortcomings are actively promoted as part of the "experience". The staff wear ironic dunce caps and vulture costumes; if you want to actually buy something, they walk to a stockroom 10 miles away in a neighbouring county to check its availability, methodically harass you into taking out five-year cover using a subtle combination of CIA "extraordinary rendition" psychological techniques and unashamed sulking, then arrange for it to be delivered at 7am by a surly man who'll arrive 10 hours late on purpose, deliberately bring a BD4437BX instead of the BD3389BZ you ordered, attach a magic hidden "hobbling" device that causes it to malfunction immediately before the next bank holiday weekend, screw your partner, scare your kids, wreck your life, and break wind on your doorstep as he's leaving. All of which is heavily advertised as an integral part of the service.

I really think someone should get on Dragons Den and pitch it. God, how I'd love to see their faces.

Grammar, We Love You

Scene: Sunday morning in a kitchen in SE6. A man is reading the newspaper and drinking a coffee. A small child in pyjamas enters.

"Daddy, we need to go to the shop."

"Oh, why's that Freyja?"

"Well, we don't have no apples."

"Right, we'd better do that later on then. By the way, it should really be 'We don't have ANY apples'"

"I know Daddy - that's why we need to go to the shop..."

I reckon she's got a future writing for Two Pints...

Overheard #91

A quiet Friday night in led to a confusing discussion about various actors:

"You know that chap? The hobbit. The one that plays the hobbit. The hobbity one"

Turns out in fact we were both talking about Orlando Bloom (who plays the elf).

Wooden It Be Nice

So there comes a time in a man's life when he requires a wooden structure away from the familial home in which he can keep his vast collection of paint stirring sticks, listen to Test Match Special and spend some time in deep contemplation, growing a beard. That time has come. Shed time.

My DIY Dad wholeheartedly agreed with me and the parents popped down last weekend, with Mum delighted to be allocated full-time keeping-Theo-away-from-power-tools duty. After Homebase (better selection, cheaper price and quicker delivery than B&Q, in case you were interested) had delivered the appropriate wooden bits (forty-seven) and we had established that we had enough electric drills (three), we set to with the construction. Actually that's not quite true; I had to go to work on the Friday so he spent the morning digging an 'ole...

Upon my return, there were 28 sacks of rubble, an ex-tree to take to the tip and a base to be bolted together and dropped in...

Standing back, admiring our handiwork I squinted at the frame, leading me to casually remark that it "looked about level to me". So we tested that theory...

Bloody hell, it was! Hurrah, saved about an hour's banging things randomly with hammers :)

The next thing was to get the sides up. There aren't many photos of this process, as it seemed to require a minimum of 6 arms and there were only two of us. Still, we were making progress...

Not surprisingly, the next stage was to tackle the roof. After the obligatory joke about "getting felt up", we did just that (also note classic use of delicate Victorian garden furniture as sweaty bloke's drill storage area, sawmill and workbench)...

By now, it was very late, we were very tired and the door wouldn't close because, it turns out, the adjacent window fittings had been designed by a committee of Venezuelan baboons on acid. In fact, we ceremoniously tore up the instructions at this point and got a load of 2" screws involved. And, suddenly, we'd only gone and built a shed...

The following morning, before dashing off to play cricket near Slough (I know, my rock 'n' roll life, eh?) there was Ye Grande Shedde Openingg with honoured guests and dignitaries from the borough...

And today, one week on, I found myself sat out at the very same spot in a canvas chair with a mug of tea, reading the weekend papers whilst Aggers burbled gently from the wireless and the sun beat down on SE London. Bliss...

Huge thanks to the parents, without whom this project would have been an epic fail, and to Solveig for finally caving in and letting me do it (although I suspect that she is secretly delighted that she now has somewhere to banish me...)

Shall We?

Three phrases you don't generally want to hear from your wife in quick succession:

1) "Do you like this?"

2) "I saw it on the internet."

3) "It's quite expensive."

However, I found myself responding:

1) "Yes, I do as it happens."

2) "OK, let's click on the link."

3) "Keeeerrriiiissssttttt!!!!!!"

I'm thinking we may have to sell one of the children...

Mens Things

Via Scaryduck:

Pavlov's Cat: Things That Make You A Man

Added to which should be, of course, BUILDING A SHED!

More to follow...

Overheard #85

Sunday afternoon question time:

"I see the Cath Kidston collection is building up."
"Actually, one of them's Laura Ashley"
"..."

Shed Watch #1

It's here!

Somewhere in that lot are some instructions, I hope. Watch this space (or if you are our neighbours, watch the scrubby bit at the back of the garden next to the leylandii and the holly bush...)

Overheard #75

Parenting 101:

"That chicken is to eat, not to run your bus over."

Overheard #68

Casually following the live broadcast of the Brit Awards, shortly after a young Welsh female soul singer has been introduced and is about to perform her major hit:

So who are 'Toffee' then?

I am still clearing wine off the wall.

Weather

There's a lot of it about:


Night night, everyone.

Change 30

Today's change was the bed. Not just any bed, but the transformation of Freyja's cot into a little single bed, complete with duvet and pillowcase adorned with Russian dolls. No more baby sleeping bags or having to bring her books and drinks. She's all growed up now.

Oh.
Hang on.
No more Saturday morning lie-ins for us either...

Change 23

Today's change was a visit to a new (to us) restaurant, Sapporo Ichiban in Catford Broadway. What can I say - fantastic Japanese food including fresh gyoza, ramen, teriyaki & katsu, all made to order in front of you and at credit-crunch prices. Whilst nothing to look at from the outside, the 'sunken' tables at the rear are an fun & interesting feature and it would be worth coming with a big group and taking advantage of the unlimited buffet, with a shed-load of Sapporo (what else!) Did I mention they do takeaway as well? We have a new favourite place...

Change 22

Today's change was the arrival of my parents for the weekend, who were greeted by the sight of a very excited Freyja in a vest, performing some modern interpretive dance in the hallway (either that or she needed a wee).

Change 20

Today's change was to our monthly payments for our gas & electricity supply. Suffice it to say, it wasn't downwards. Robbing b*&%@#£$.

Change 17

Today's change was a massive clear-out of clothes, toys and books for the charity shop. We all piled into the car, loaded the various bags and boxes into the boot, and set off to unburden ourselves of some of the detritus of modern living.

It was closed.

Change 11

Today's change was the fitting of voiles* to our front bay window (ostensibly to keep the low winter sun from shining in and disturbing our mid-afternoon viewing of Season 3 of Heroes, but actually so we don't have to look at the chavs.)

* your Aunt Enid would know these as nets, but nets aren't very Habitat :)

Home Alone

It's very, very quiet here.

This year, it is once again time to spend Christmas in Dubai, with Solveig's family. Although very much a Muslim country, the proliferation of western ex-pats and massive shopping malls means that Christmas is a big deal over there. Despite my default setting at this time of year being a Level 37 Scrooge, I do rather enjoy the incongruousness of eating the traditional Christmas roast dinner* outside, near the desert, in 25 degree heat, under a portable gazebo :)

Anyway, the other factor is of course that Dubai is a long way away: five four hour time difference and roughly a seven hour flight. So it's clearly not worth popping over after work on Christmas Eve and buggering off around teatime on Boxing Day. This year, Solveig was understandably keen to get as much time as possible there, with ready access to delighted babysitting grandparents for Theo and energetic older cousins for Freyja (warm weather, good shopping and a heated swimming pool may also have featured in the discussion). I could just about negotiate two weeks off work (as I did the Christmas week graveyard shift last year) but with her on maternity leave, it would be silly not to stretch it for the rest of the family as much as possible.

The long and short of this is that yesterday she loaded up the car with children, luggage, pushchair, travel sweets, magazines, Kendal Mint Cake and a navigator (her excellent sister Angharad, who Freyja adores) as well as printed maps, laptop-based routefinder, sat nav, A-to-Z and mobile phone with me on speed dial. After the first call ("How do I make the water squirt onto the windscreen?") they were off. BA flight 109 from Heathrow T5 to Dubai was waiting. After the traditional crawl round the M25, they arrived at BCP to be told that yes they could park there but the courtesy coach could only take them to Terminal 4, from where they would need to take a regular scheduled London bus to Terminal 5**. Not happy, but what can you do? Anyway, finally the call comes - they're there, checked in, had dinner, kids in pyjamas and waiting to be called for the flight. Phew. And sure enough, woke up this morning (after what can only be described as a three-hour lie-in) to a text message saying that the kids were brilliant on the flight and everyone is smiling and happy in the UAE sunshine.

So I can relax. With TMS commentary of the India test, Arsenal the lunchtime match on the box, a pork pie in the fridge as well as it absolutely chucking it down outside (so I couldn't rake the metric tonne of leaves off the garden, even if I wanted to, which I don't) it's pretty relaxed chez fourstar. I shall miss them all terribly for the next week, but it's good to be able to breathe out once in a while :)

As I said, it's very, very quiet here...


* Which I have just realised, with the arrival of Theo, will be for 11 people this year!

** Having been informed of this by a rather stressed wife I decided to look into it and as far as I can tell it turns out that yes, there is Long Stay parking at the shiny new T5 but it is exclusively run by BAA, is literally TWICE the price of the other operators and they won't let the independents (BCP, Purple, Flyaway, etc) run their courtesy coaches direct to T5. Insert insulting swear word of choice here.