The Morning after

Well another Birthday passes fairly uneventfully, which always pleases me.  I had a nice day, and ended it in the pub with some nice people, so I mustn’t grumble.  We have a busy few weeks coming up with shows etc to worry about, so I must try and remain focused rather than getting depressed about the passing of time (And all of its crimes).  I am amazed at the amount of paperwork involved in selling a house, and how much duplication there is.  I thought the idea was to get rid of all of the red tape, but it would appear there is more than ever to me. 

I have a hangover that I used to get after a REALLY heavy night out.  Bearing in mind it was a quiet one with a few drinks, I think I can safely say that I can’t do it any more...perhaps not such a bad thing.

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A new feeling swept across me today...

One of positivity, and it has been long overdue.  After a frustrating and infuriating day spent dealing with idiots, it was heartening to see a few lights at the end of a series of tunnels.  Our forthcoming move to Flitwick which at times today looked to be off, is a source of a bit of optimism for me.  I will have my own dedicated office come study, which is very near the kitchen.  Our plans are such that we will need to be a lot more organised, and as I do the lion’s share of the cooking, it is handy to have an office near the Kitchen.  There is a local and affordable Gym.  Now this might make one or two people chuckle, but since I gave up smoking over 5 years ago, I have been out of shape!  Starting smoking is not an option, so I am keen to try fitness!  I will be two minutes walk from a mainline Railway Station, which opens up my horizons somewhat in terms of my writing, and research.  I will be able to visit the old haunts of my family, and the old family house in Islington in which a long line of envelope folders and imbeciles lived.  We will be debt free.  I have to keep repeating that....Debt free!  I got into debt pretty much on my first working day.  That was the 17^th September 1984.  Pretty much 26 years of debt wiped out.  I’m not sure quite how that is going to feel, but I feel sure I will report on it at length.

I have just noticed that whilst writing this post, that my Birthday has gone and crept up on me.  Well Happy Birthday to me.  I realised half way through this year that I had mistakenly been telling everyone that I was still 42, rather than 43...I now realise that I am far too old, and will be deliberately continuing this trend in the near future.  44 sounds quite old to me come to think of it.  This fits in with my current mid life crisis, and I shall continue to get some mileage from it I feel sure.  So my last year has been a good one overall.  Old friendships rekindled, big decisions made, good drama of the right kind, and a little bad drama of the wrong kind.  Not bad.  Here’s to the next one dear reader.

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...and breath....

Today, I will be mostly trying to stay calm in the face of increasing pressure to do otherwise.  I am reacting calmly to the request that I need to write up notes about my soon to be ex-dog, in an almost living obituary, to make him sound attractive to any other owners.  I will laugh in the face of losing a second cast member from a production that is now only a week and a half away.  I will smile sweetly whilst explaining to the mother of the aforementioned cast member that whilst I understand that weekends away can be nice, that I have already committed hundreds of pounds to this performance, none of which is refundable.  I will laugh heartily with the letting agents, who are expecting a relative or friend to act as a guarantor on our rental, as we are self employed.  This is despite our offer to pay the full rental up front.  All of this will be a mere frippery in my day of laughter and joy.

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At least one positive today

We went to visit a school today that specialises in teaching dyslexic children.  We visited it with a view to running a session there, and possibly a Summer School or workshop or two.  What we found was the most inspiring, heart warming place, with amazing staff and superb facilities.  I have never seen so many books in one place (With the possible exception of a library of course).  The owner of this private school puts books everywhere in order to ensure that the kids are not scared by them.  I want to be a child again so that I can go there!!!!  We will be doing our absolute utmost to ensure that we can be in some way linked to this fantastic institution.  More news as and when we get it

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Bleedin Computers

Just realised that the daily updates have not been making it to the blog.  I had been emailing them, but for some unknown reason they just sat in the outbox for a week.  I am amazed that my mass of readers have not been bombarding me with complaints!  All updated now, and hopefully I have got to the bottom of what was causing it!

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Forms

A day spent filling out forms.  The same information appears to be needed in triplicate by the same people, it is very annoying, very dull, and I spent the day as a miserable sod as a result of it.  Mrs Plug kept a respectful distance, and I think I managed to snap out of it by the end of the day.  Another thick blanket of snow has covered Bedfordshire.  I used to love that feeling of excitement that you got when pulling back the curtains on a day like this, but today, it just blackened my mood even more.  I think I may be going through a mini midlife crisis of some sort.  I just want to switch off from everything, which is not good when you are self employed.  I need a few early nights.  My current frame of mind is leading me to stay up late, and I think the tiredness is not helping.  I need to make a big effort over the next few days and sort myself out/strap on a pair..or whatever the current phrase may be.  Mrs Plug has been fabulous as ever throughout this.  The feeling of being completely debt free is a major factor in all of this, but she will be sad to move too, and I think I need to focus a little more on that as well.

Must try harder!

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Sunday Morning

I was awoken by this at 8.30 this morning.  He crept up onto the bed, and I woke to find a paw in the middle of my chest and a smiling dog.

I reacted to this in a non emotional way of course.

I managed to snooze my way through an hour or so, but gave in and drank coffee and read my book.  It took my mind off things.  It is Jim Bob’s story of Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, and their rise and fall.  I loved them, and continue to do so, and this is a fascinating and funny insight into it all.  He’s a really good bloke in my opinion, and I shall spend the rest of the weekend with it as my soundtrack.

Afternoon spent catching up with housework, in preparation for Spurs to add to my woes.  Fortunately, they won 3-0 away, and therefore the weekend was not a complete washout.

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More misery

Continuing with the miserable theme, we broke the news about the dog to youngest today.  I had been dreading it, and it was met with the expected sobbing.  The poor kid really is going through it, and I really hope she can come to terms with the whole moving thing.  We really do have to do it.  The girls decided to go off to Staffordshire for the rest of the weekend for a change of scenery, and I helped with the get out at the Panto.  I hope I can sleep a bit in the morning.  I’m struggling to be motivated to do anything at the moment, which is also pissing me off.  This is supposed to be a positive move for all of us, and I can only see the negatives at the moment.

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Have a heart

Got a text last night from Amdram mob.  The Panto was opening last night, and whilst we have done a load of stuff behind the scenes, it was always the plan that we would not be heavily involved because of the important Birthday.  The text told us that one of the lead actors had suffered a heart attack.  We rushed straight there just to see if we could help.  I was worried about the kids involved in the show, many of whom I think of as our babies.  It was a dreadful, upsetting way to end the day.  All the reports are that he is going to be fine....but I just cannot wait for the week to end.

Mrs Plug and youngest have arranged to visit the new place today.  They seemed strangely underwhelmed by it, and as a result I saw a chink of light and got the slightest hint that we might be able to keep the dog.  This was of course dashed fairy soon afterwards, when we talked at length and decided it was definitely the right thing to do.  We went and saw the panto in the evening, and I went to bed sobbing.  Pathetic really, but all my life I wanted my own dog, and now he has been taken away after just over a year.  The six year old boy inside me is jumping up and down screaming that it’s not fair.

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Sweet 16

Despite the dreadful situation yesterday, We went and saw Richard Herring last night for my Birthday treat.  He is a very funny, very clever comedian, who I just happen to love.  It was difficult to go out and try to laugh, when all I wanted to do was sit at home and sulk.  We managed it though, and had a lovely evening all things considered.

It is eldest’s 16^th birthday today.  I’m sure it is clichéd to say it, but the time has passed too quickly.  She is of course, the apple of my eye, and I don’t think she will ever fully understand how much I love her.  With my little bereavement yesterday, I didn’t want to spend her birthday moping about either the dog, or the fact that I feel like I am losing her, and I think I managed to be all happy and celebratory.  I suspect that one day she will tell me I was a miserable git on her birthday, and that it was “only a dog”.  She’s good like that, and I love her.

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Just the most hateful day

The day started well enough, in that we went to view the proposed new house, and all seemed perfect.  As we walked around I could see everything working in this environment.  There was a side of me that felt slightly less welcome than if we were buying the house, but I suppose that is the rental market.  The letting agent advised us that there was a lot of interest in this place, so as a result, I took a chance and put down a £200 holding fee (non refundable), and started filling out the form.  On it was a section about pets, and I asked the agent whether I needed to bother about the Guinea Pigs on the form, to which she replied “Oh, it’s no pets at all”.  My heart sunk to my boots.  I explained about my little hairy soul mate, but all to no avail.  I offered £100 a month extra.  The Agent rang the landlady, who still said no.  She had suffered a crappy tenant with a dog, and vowed never again.  Under the circumstances, they were very kind and let me have 24 hours to think about it, and would refund us if we said no.  Deep down, I always knew this would be a problem.  Unfortunately, not many rental properties will accept pets.  What a nightmare.  Youngest would be devastated, Eldest seemed only to care about moving close to boyfriend.  Mrs Plug was sympathetic, but, ultimately, was it right to put all our plans on hold over a dog that technically doesn’t even belong to us?  We got him from a charity scheme, and in effect we are just fostering him.  I’m heartbroken.  He has been there at my side every day for the last year, and we have such a good bond.  I know he’s “Only a dog”, but if I hear that phrase at the moment, I am likely to kill.

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Whoop

A second offer has been received.  It is still slightly short of what we really wanted, so we have gone back with a once and for all final bottom line compromise figure.  It was accepted almost immediately, and there was much using of the word “whoop”, or some such vulgar exclamation of appreciation.  So, we have sold the house in the space of four days.  Gawd.  Now where to live?  Well as it happens, we have our eye on a place.  It seems to tick all the boxes, in that it has the requisite number of rooms, and walls and things, a garden, a good location and none of that horrible “No Pets” nonsense.  A viewing has been organised for Eldest and myself to go and view tomorrow.  It is not in the village, but in a town about three miles away.  Youngest is struggling with the idea of moving hugely.  This place might be the answer to it, as she wants a bigger room, and better facilities.  We will be ten minutes away from a  swimming pool, and as a result I am confident that we can win her over.  Change is hard when you are ten.

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Money, Money Money

As predicted by Mystic Mrs Plug, we did indeed receive our first offer today, and whilst it was a lot lower than we wanted, it is an encouraging sign.  I of course sent back the message to try again, but a lot higher.  We have now spent the day on complete hold, waiting for a response.  This is a dreadful feeling, as there is a side of me that doesn’t want to sell of course.  However, we need to,  so I should be getting a little more excited.  A most unproductive day, which also frustrates me.  We have spent most of the time sitting around talking through our plans.  It seems to me like we are still trying to justify them to ourselves.  No further offers were forthcoming, so off to bed with a frustrated sulk.

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Selling Houses

So, we have done this once or twice before, so it should be a smooth and easy process by now, but I have that horrid gut wrenching feeling.  Perhaps it is the fact that we are going into the unknown a wee bit, but I just don’t feel entirely comfortable with the whole thing.  I know we have no choice, and perhaps that is the nub of the matter?  I just don’t like being told what to do, I like to be in control, and as a result, this whole thing seems to have taken me over.  I’m sure as things move on down the line over the next few weeks/months I will get used to it.

We had our first viewing yesterday, and it was typically someone who we knew.  It makes you even more self conscious about showing people around your house, no matter how uncharacteristically tidy it is.  Our second viewing was this morning, and they called the estate agent and asked for a second viewing almost immediately!  Now everything seems real, and Mrs Plug is talking about the offer we will receive as if it is a certainty!

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Valentines Day is Over

Was one of my Favourite Billy Bragg songs....but I have to say one of my least favourite days, for reasons of Loneliness and awkwardness for most of my formative years.  However, it may turn out to be a good one this year, as we have received a viewing for the house which seems to be quite encouraging, as they came back for a second viewing this afternoon.  Of course this has sent us all into a flat spin, and we are now wondering if we are doing the right thing, which of course we are, but nevertheless, it gets you that way.  I spent the evening trying hard to fight off the urge to sleep, but managed to watch the interview with Gordon Brown this evening, who came across very well.  I think he may have made a very sensible decision to go ahead with the interview.

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Police

We were involved In an incident today when the police arrested some men outside our house for "brandishing a knife". This is of course perfect timing for our house sale as I am sure it will add to the value. The gentlemen in question threw the sheath of the knife into our garden. What a nice thing for my daughter to find on her return from school. Village life ain't always what it's made out to be. I shall be happy to move away from the particular gentleman in question. He is an arse.

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Nice People

We were lucky to have the pleasure of some very nice comany this week with the visit of mr&mrs Pops. It's been a really good week actually, with the exception of one day. I just hope that the house gets on the Market soon before we lose the will to live.

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Jack Shit

I must start this latest blog with an apology for the foul language displayed as the title.  It is however, and artistic reference, and therefore completely justified.  It is the new title for my book.  I don’t really want to refer to it as an autobiography or memoirs...that gives the work perhaps far more kudos than it deserves.  It was a suggested title by my good lady wife, the current Mrs Plug.  She made the point that “Jack Shit” was pretty much what I was left with in terms of love, and also that it was the name that my Grandfather was referred to, despite being called John.  On reflection, I remember that when I asked why they called Granddad Jack, I was told that it was short for John.  I never really stood a chance did I?  Unbelievably, Wikipedia states that Jack in a nickname for John!   Anyway, I think it is a good name for the book, and if the title is the only thing that causes offence I shall be enormously surprised.

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Those nice people from the Church

Following on from previous posts on the people of the church, I was astounded to witness some stunning bad manners this evening.

Working with young people as I do, you come to accept, that some peoples moral code is perhaps not similar to yours, and that is of course fine.  I do however, get very cross, when I witness bad manners.  One of the elderly gentlemen of the Church was coming in as my young people were leaving, and a polite greeting of “Good evening” was proffered.  This greeting was largely ignored, and met only with an impatient “Humph”.  Young people of today are we are told regularly by the Daily Mail, rude and inconsiderate, and the moral decline of the country is a source of great concern to the readers.  The lack of God in their lives is also proffered as a contributory factor.  The sad thing to report is, and I’m sure you’d guessed already, that the greeting was in fact offered up by the young man rather than the older gentleman.  Of course this is no reason to blame the religious beliefs of the man, but the fact that he was attending a course on Lent.  Now I do not offer myself up as a religious expert, in fact I try to avoid the subject, but I thought that Lent was the time where the Christian church encourages its followers to look at their own sins, as they were the reason for Jesus ending up on the cross.  Well I might politely, and perhaps piously suggest that this gentleman might have a bit of reviewing to do.  As for the young man, he merely raised his eyes to the ceiling and said “Typical”.  What a way to encourage young people into your church.

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Crap Day

I am not one to see the negative in everything....well not that often anyway.  However, on reflection, today has been crap.  I have lost a leading actor in a production happening in three weeks, and then half the cast for a rehearsal, which has seriously cast doubts on the show.  I ended up shouting at my two kids for reasons of unhelpfulness.  The company doing the HIP for our house sale has gone totally quiet, and as a result we are no closer to selling.  I have discovered a delightful case of double booking that has put one of my sessions on jeopardy.  I have cut out caffeine again, and I am feeling like crap as a result.  You will not from the video I posted earlier, that despite the pest control people installing communal rat traps for all nasty little beasties, these are being ignored for the delights of my poor Guinea Pig cage, which we are having to bring in at night to avoid the little bastards gnawing through the walls to nick the pigs food.  Tottenham lost again.

So the day is about to end, and I for one, am bloody delighted.

Tomorrow will be better as the Lovely Mr and Mrs Pops are visiting, so I shall sleep happily in that knowledge

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Vermin

Download now or watch on posterous

IMG_0003.mov (1307 KB)

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Bullying

Youngest has not been herself for quite a while, and without going into detail, it has emerged that she has been suffering at the hand of two bullies at School.  It transpires that these two little darlings have been saying things like “Your Mum and Dad abuse you”.  We live in a world where abuse is on every journalist, politician and commentator’s lips, and it is heard virtually every day.  I shall give the two boys the benefit of the doubt, in that they probably just used the words without thinking of the connotations.  They are only ten after all.  I was also impressed with the way the School dealt with the situation, and how swiftly action was taken.  Youngest is now somewhere back to her old self, and all was well again...well up until Friday when she was subjected to what can only be described as a minor assault by another girl.  This happened at an after school club which was being supervised by two teachers.  I spoke to one of them today, and was struck by several things.  Firstly how I felt liek I was actually speaking to a school child.  She had the same defensive tone as Vicky Pollard.  I was actually phoning to advise her what we had been told, and to let her know about the previous bullying.  She instantly went on the defensive, and seemed to be able to act as Judge and Jury over an incident that she had not witnessed.  I do, I suppose, have to place my trust in her, in that she has obviously qualified to do the job, and I realise that this is not easy, but I have a sense of unease about her.  Perhaps I am just being a snob....I am a Londoner, but I expect my Teachers not to speak in a manner that can only be described as “Fluent Chav”.  I shall update the blog with progress.  The little darling responsible for the assault is on holiday for a week, which is something I thought was frowned upon by the authorities.

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Maudlin Sunday

Well that was a cheerful title wasn’t it?   I find myself thinking a lot about the house and the fact that this is probably going to be one of the last normal family weekends we have in it.  We have had so many happy memories here, so I know I’m going to find it a bit of a bind.  I’m going to make a conscious effort NOT to get maudlin as I spend the last few weeks here, as I have this awful tendency to say and think things like “This is the last time we will do this or that here”.  I even started out this blog like it, so I have already broken my resolution not to do so.  I have been reading Alan Bennet’s book “Untold Stories” which is an absolute joy as one would expect.  He is a truly remarkable writer, and I cannot believe it has taken me this long to discover him.  The Oscar Wilde biography remains laregyl unread, but I shall persevere, and I have moved it to within my eye line in an effort to prick my own conscience.

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Mint

Been doing a little bit of work over the last couple of weeks on the subject of Method acting, and in particular, the recall of memories stimulated by smell.  Without getting all “Stanislavski on your ass” as the youngsters of today say I believe, it really seemed to work in the sessions.  The supposition is that smell is the sense that tends to evoke more memories than any other....anyway...I digress slightly.  I was slaving over the kitchen sink this morning with a bowl full of dishes.  As I squirted the washing up liquid, I was transported back to my childhood, in particular, my Grandfather.  The Washing up liquid in question is “infused” with mint.  My Grandad as he was known to me, was a polo addict, and just the slight hint of the smell takes me back.  When I was a small boy sitting on his workbench, watching him working on a piece of wood.  Playing football with him, and even going running with him.  As I got older and started to work, the smell of car leather as I got a lift to the station from him.  Arguing about politics or money or my behaviour.  All of these things accompanied by the smell of mint.  It’s amazing how the memories that are evoked by the smell all tend to be the negative ones, but if I search deep enough, the happy ones are there too.

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Nadine Dorries

I have been blocked from my MP’s Twitter account.  I suspect that she has taken exception to some of the questions I have asked her.  I have always been deeply polite, and never resorted to some of the petty name calling that both her, and her colleagues resort to at times.  Whilst I detest her politics, I was always willing to enter into a healthy debate with her.  This started with her blog, which up until she was caught out, was funded by us, the public.  She then had to fund it herself.  It was interesting to see that she had the following caveat on her blog

“It's simple. Be nice. If you try and misinterpret the position I have laid out in a blog; if you swear, are rude, abusive, aggressive or threatening, I will not publish. If you want to be any of the above, there are lots of other sites you can go to.

This blog is civil, respectful and will try always to be caring (except when in verbally, armed, political combat) I will not tolerate the harsh political, aggressive tones accepted on other blogs. Anyone who breaks these rules will be sent to the naughty step until they learn to behave. I have a very keen nose for Trolls, so beware.”

However, she then blocked comments from the blog, and then routinely blocks anyone on Twitter who questions her, however politely.  If you contact her directly, she takes weeks and weeks to reply, and when she does, it is pretty much always a standard answer with no real reference to specifics.  Her secretary is excellent at doing the job of blocking her from any real contact, and as a result, it is VERY difficult to gain access to her.  Unless of course, you are a TV executive willing to give her air time.  Then of course, you cannot keep her away.

I am not asking for her to agree with me, far from it, I actually celebrate the fact that we have opposing views, it’s part of what I love about Britain.  Without the experience of tasting something sour, sweetness would be nowhere near as pleasant.  What I object to is the fact that she has taken the decision that I am one of these “trolls”, when actually I am a local constituent who wishes to air his views.  She is a careerist politician, in that she does not serve her constituents, she tolerates them in her efforts to get a name for herself.  She is not alone in this, in fact she is in the majority by the looks of the news.  I realise this, but she IS my MP, and I am exercising my democratic rights.  Her lack of respect for her constituents, if far worse than the lack of respect she keeps spouting about with regard to the Speaker of the house. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was her post yesterday that was making an allegation of corruption.  I merely sent her the link to her expenses claim that she has been forced to repay, despite her deliberate deception.  It is only just over £1000.  It is not the amount, it is the principal.  I accompanied the link with the question “Is this not the real corruption”?

I doubt she will reply now that she has blocked me.  I shall just keep creating new user names and keep questioning her.  It is, after all, her job that we pay her (Sometimes twice) to so.

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Death

Since watching the rather moving Terry Pratchett lecture recently, I have found myself returning to the theme again and again.  I had no really strong feelings on the subject up until I saw his lecture on the right to assisted suicide, and now I find myself wholeheartedly agreeing with him.  I could not think of a possible reason not to agree.  I watched Question Time with Melanie Phillips (Loathsome journalist) and George Galloway (Loathsome Politician and Part-Toad), who were both completely against the idea.  This has done nothing but strengthen my belief that Mr Pratchett is right

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Blog Name

I have come to realise that in order to be taken seriously in the blogosphere, that you need to have a name for the blog, and frankly, my one is just not up to the job.  Of course, dear reader, I am not that shallow as to be craving the approval of anyone daft enough to actually read this drivel, but nonetheless, I feel it might need a name...even if it is a tagline after the Mr Plug’s Blog bit....So I would replace the rather pointless alliteration...Or do you like the alliteration?  Oh it’s so difficult.  At the moment, I like “....and in other news” as it is a phrase I have used a bit lately.  However, I suspect that it is already being used a lot.  This is the kind of thing that keeps me awake.

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More crazy making

The “Crazymakers” that were the subject of several posts recently, have been rather quiet, and I should have realised of course that this was the calm before the storm.  All of a sudden, their heads have popped up again, like angry little turtles poking out from their shells.  I wonder whether I have become immune to it, or whether they really have become that ridiculously laughable, but there is an air of calm that has descended over me.  I suspect that I have come to realise that they are just idiots.

In other news, I have started to get more offers of work and projects.  This is of course, making me think carefully about who I work with, and we are getting to the position where money is not the only motivating factor here.  I hope one day to be able to just reply with “Thank you for your kind offer of work, I am however, far too interesting and nice to be working with a twerp like you”....Well you can dream.

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Time

Continuing with news of all the big themes.....I have been sitting around a lot doing that thing we call “Planning”.  I have never been very good at it really, and have always been more likely to sit and daydream for a while and then call it “planning”, but something has kicked in recently and I find myself craving order and organisation.  It is something I have never really been adept at, and I continue to find it a struggle.  I’m not sure why I have this need now, perhaps it is just the workload.  The irony was, that I spent about three hours doodling with various pieces of time management software rather than actually working, and found myself way behind and struggling to get all the important things done.  I am, at times, and only at times mind, a complete clot.

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Village Idiots

On our morning walk today, we met a man who we had not seen before, walking his friends dogs.  Without any introduction, or greeting, he demanded that we answer the question “Open your eyes and tell me what you would not have seen during the middle Ages”.  Call me old fashioned, but I prefer conversations to start with “Good Morning” or something similarly polite and refined, however, we gave him the benefit of the doubt, as it would have seemed rude not to.  We then endured ten minutes of what I can only describe as factual masturbation, whereupon the man in question demonstrated that he knew exactly how the place had got its name, what kind of hedgerows would have existed in the middle ages and why fields were smaller back then.  Much as the facts may have been interesting, although unverified, I was still astonished that the man felt it appropriate to burden us with his company without any hint of being invited.  Perhaps I should have simply answered his original question with “A lunatic who hadn’t been locked up or drowned as a village idiot”?

Oh well...At least the sun was out

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