In with a Bang

As the new year was welcomed in with a bang, bottle of Cava and Jules Holland, January crept by in a cold, dark and uneventful manner. I carried on volunteering while job applications fell on deaf ears. The Job Centre introduced this amazing way to apply for jobs via their website. You see a job that you can apply for so click on 'apply'. You then upload your CV and click 'continue'. The screen then tells you that your application was sent successfully. Well isn't that simple.
Where the fuck is the option to add a covering letter?
Oh. There isn't one.
Why can I not apply for the job directly from my email account?
Because We Want To Watch What You Are Doing.
Where is the confirmation that my application has been sent?
The Job Centre Website tells you.

Fortunately, I am on one of the Government's Work Programmes, one of those that the tax payers in this country are subsidising, I think - where else would the government get the money from to pay out the millions they do to run these programmes which, once somebody is on one, means one less-unemployed figure. Because you are on a Work Programme you are knocked off the unemployment statistics, apparently. Even though you are still unemployed. You can sit and scratch your head about that one for as long as you like but it won't help. The present government is in denial.

Coralie left for Vietnam with her boyfriend for 7 months at the end of January. She seems to be enjoying it although said she was sick of the food after the first week. That girl is so difficult to please. At least she is happy to be in the sun and heat.

February crept by. Dark and miserable. Slow and cold, reminding us all that it is still winter. The new Aldi near us started putting down it's foundations which means that by the end of the year we may be shopping there. Or not.

Richard and I went away to Aberystwyth for a couple of days to celebrate my 50th. I had a lovely day with fantastic weather and we stayed in a room with a sea view. Watching the sunset on the last day of being 49 with a cup of tea was succeeded by watching my first sunset at the ripe old age of 50 with a bottle of Cava. The highlight of my day was watching a red kite (bird) flying over us looking for food. Red kites are quite common in Wales as are other birds of prey so I would like to go back again to do some bird watching. Richard had my bicycle serviced which means that I can now get cycling although I miss being able to get on my bike and cycle inbetween fields. I was lucky back home in that sense.

The Crewe Lyceum has been taken over by a better company and so we shall be seeing Rich Hall and Jack Dee in May. I'd like to see Sean Lock too, but Richard spent the money to see him on tickets to see Wilko Johnson next week. Crewe has picked up in one area that I enjoy - the arts - but shops are closing all the time and being replaced by Pound shops - or in one case, a third amusement arcade. I thought this town was poor?

Richard has been keeping Hermie entertained as apparently, each time he picks up his guitar and starts twanging away, Hermie comes out of his welly and does a groove, or something. As soon as Richard stops, he goes back to bed. I had a son who wanted to be a rock star - it now appears that I have a tortoise that wants to be one.

Hermie, the Rock and Roll Tortoise.

Am still here, despite the arsenic.

Sorry to have neglected you all, chickadees, but things are moving quite well here and we're both rather busy.  I finally have all my belongings out of storage and have only managed to empty the boxes with kitchen utensils etc in.  I was delighted to be reunited with my Hello Kitty mug - the last thing that the Twat gave me, so it holds a lot of sentimental value - although Richard isn't so fond of it.  Or any of my other Hello Kitty items.  He's no fun.

I had wood flooring put down throughout the house last weekend after Richard and I had ripped up the ghastly carpetting and Richard had removed the skirting boards.  Some of the skirting boards in the dining room were rotten so will have to be replaced which is a bit of a bummer, but the house looks improved already, simply by the new flooring.  Days are spent listening to Radio 2 as we attack the walls and ceilings, ripping them bare of thick wallpaper covered in even thicker layers of paint.  Even the ceilings are covered in wallpaper, so it is a slow process and we have only finished taking the paper off in the dining room - we have now moved on to the main bedroom, which is easier, but larger.  The green colour underneath the wallpaper suggests that there is arsenic on the walls, but I don't think that is a serious issue now.  It's not as if I have taken to licking the bare walls.

So there we are.  I haven't even had time to observe much of Crewe lately apart from some shocking fashion faux-pas.  A fairly large woman in her 30s crossed the road in front of us yesterday wearing leggings that looked as if she was wearing a pair of ladders.  The oozing cellulite wasn't pleasant to see and actually managed to shut both Richard and I up as we watched her cross in sheer horror.  We gave her kudos for having the guts to be dressed like that, but really - she should put them away - or give them to a charity in need of a duster.

Hermie is enjoying this warmer weather and has spent nights out for a while now.  I was getting  slightly worried about Hermie's diet as he doesn't seem to think much of English chicory and I never know how much he actually eats when outside so bought him some protein pellets which he loves.  I had to hand-feed him at first as he didn't eat them - but christ, the little bugger has such a sharp beak and has nipped me by mistake on several occasions.

I shall have to report on the worm charming event at some stage, as well as the Wrenbury scarecrows, photos of which will go up as soon as I get wifi later this month.

I think that's all for now.  Richard remains as caring as ever when only yesterday, because of the arsenic on the walls, he warned me not to pick my nose that evening.

He's all charm, that Richard.

Weeds.

Hermie has been enjoying the mild weather in his pen outside in Richard's garden, especially due to the fact that there are so many weeds in the garden.  He doesn't like weeds in general, at least, not Belgian ones, but Hermie appears to love the weeds here.  This may have something to do with the fact that I cannot find chicory, his favourite vegetable, anywhere.  True, I have yet to look in Sainsburys and Waitrose, but how on earth can the Brits live without one of Belgium's national dishes, chicon au gratin or chicon caramilisé?

Not being able to buy chicory here is a bit of a shock, especially as you can buy strange, Chinese mushrooms, yams and many other exotic vegetables.  Chicory is a simple, root vegetable, lovely in salads or cooked slowly with a little brown sugar.  It is also Hermie's favourite snack and the man in Tescos is getting a little fed up each time we go there as without fail, I'll ask him if they stock any chicory.  Torts in England have no idea what they are missing out on in this rather backward country.

Waitrose and Sainsburys are next on the list.