Told you

Didn't I say this adoption was doomed?

This morning I got a phone call to say that the people the rescuers hire their van from hadn't actually reserved one for them so the round trip to Coventry to collect the chickens was impossible. The farmer has agreed not to send them for slaughter, and the rescue has been rearranged for two weeks' time, but the poor creatures will have to continue living in those appalling battery cages. I thought my heart would break.

This is the school half term holiday, and I was going to spend all week acclimatising my girls at all our leisure.

Then I got another call, telling me that there were a few hens from the previous rescue that were too poorly to be rehomed. They had bruised and broken wings. But now they are fit enough to be adopted, if I would like them.

Would I?!

But still, even after another email to the woman in charge of the rescue, the woman with the birds has still not contacted me, so I, and the birds, remain in limbo.

Missed a Bit?

Did I miss tghe biceps?


Or maybe the eyelashes?


How about the wrists?


I'm sure I missed the groin (yeah, right, any excuse)


What about the back?


The knee and the thigh weren't featured.

There's so much of him, there's bound to be some part (-) I don't manage to include.

Steamin'

There's a couple of these over at TheReel and this link:

http://www.rexfeatures.com/live/2010/05/27/hugh_jackman_and_vincent_d%27onofrio_out_and_about,_new_york

Yet another heartbreaker in thge making.

Can anyone weave some magic and make these big enough to do the man justice?

The Many Faces of Robert Goren

Here are just a few of his expressions, with a few character traits thrown in.

Modest


Innocent


Even more modest


Thoughtful


Quizzical


Kind


Suspicious


Flirtatious


Sad

Showing Off

Are all actors exhibitionists? Let's look at the evidence using our favourite actor in our favourite role.

Showing off:

the shoulders


the groin


the butt


the jaw (see how the squit admires it too)


the smile


the face


the tongue


the neck and stubble


the hands


the size (and a bit more groin)


QED

Gene Testing

As most of you know, I teach a boy with a rare and degenerative genetic condition, ALD, the illness featured in the film Lorenzo's Oil. He was diagnosed too late, when the condition had already advanced too far for him to be helped. But his diagnosis meant that when things went wrong with his little brother, the doctors knew where to look for an answer. Today their story features in the Daily Mail newspaper, and here is the link to the online version:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1281180/Gene-tests-The-new-Russian-roulette-A-genetic-test-save-life-But-force-make-heartbreaking-sacrifices.html

It pretty well puts the rest of life into proportion when you see the situations some people find themselves in.

Any more? Come on, I can take it!

Today I went to a DIY store with garden centre attached to get a large plastic box as a substitute for the potting bench I couldn't build. This is for the storage bins for my chicken feed.

Bonus - it was really light. And it just clicks together. What could be simpler?

When I got home with my new acquisition, I found a message on my answering machine from the company that makes the potting bench. The score goes like this:

I phone them and have to leave a message, even though their helpline should be open.

They leave me a message the next day.

I leave a message, even more snitty than the first.

Nothing.

I leave a third message.

They phone me up and leave a message while I am at work, saying that they will be there till 6pm.

I phone at 4.15. The helpline is closed. I leave a really snitty message.

This is the current state of play.

I take my new purchase into the garden and start to put it together. Everything is clearly labeled, and fits together really well.

As I start to put the end pieces on the lid, I find that I HAVE TWO RIGHT ENDS AND NO LEFT END!

I phone the manufacturer. Their helpline closes at 4.30. It is 4.45. They say leave your contact details but not a message. I do both. Then I phone the store and give them the details of the item and the fault. I can hear the assistant looking the item up on the computer. She says, "Unfortunately we don't have any more in stock." I reply, "Unfortunately you had a pile of them when I bought this an hour ago." She goes out and checks, returning to say that she has found them, and will reserve a left end for me till tomorrow. So another trip out of my way is on the cards. At this rate I won't have enough fuel to get to the rescue centre.

The phone rings at 5pm. It is the manufacturer. Unlike the first company, they appear to have a customer service policy, rather than a customer aggravation policy. They will send me a replacement part in the morning. It seems I will now have 2 left ends!

Meanwhile, I have received a message from the suppliers of special feed for ex-battery hens. I emailed them yesterday complaining about the fact that their carrier had left a large bag of feed on my doorstep, in full sight of the street, so that any passing burglar could read it as "No one home, please break in". This despite the fact that I had given the instruction that they could leave the package with either neighbour.

They had the damn cheek to say the driver had left it with the neighbour to the right, who must have put it on my doorstep! Never in over 30 years has she done such a thing, nor would she. In fact, nor could she - she is in her late 60s, with a gammy shoulder, and they think she heaved a 20kg bag of chicken feed next door? As it happens, she wasn't even home.

Do you think I am not meant to rescue these chickens?

Looks

Looking good, good-looking.

You can look at me in the bath anytime, Bobby, but please, no photos!


Anytime you want to look at me like that, you must expect to be jumped on and ravaged.


Here's Bobby looking at my perfume, smiling at the memories it evokes.


Looking a bit serious.


"Oh look, they put up that photo I had taken of you in the bath, Val."


Look at the camera. Come on, wtch the birdie.

Bobby Knows, You Know.

Bobby is so clever. He knows so much, and he sees right through people.

I understand that you are suffering.


I know you can inspire me.


I'm sure you aren't as slutty as you look.


I'm certain the Vixens will go wild over this bit of neck.


I have no doubt this pose will send their temperatures sky-high.


We both know I can see right through you.

Something and Nothing

The "Something" is this mouthwash:

It was cleverly spotted by Ruby:

Then there is the "Nothing".

That's my progress on putting together the potting bench. The woman at the manufacturer's was so smart as to leave a message in the middle of the day, and be gone by 3.30 when I caught it and phoned back. (This is an 8.30am - 5.00pm helpline???)

I visited two different hardware shops to get some nails, but ended up with the wrong ones twice, 'cos they didn't have the right ones in the right size, so I thought I'd try just anything.

Might as well have tried..."Nothing".

There are lots of words beginning with "F" but I can only think of one right now.

Emotions

Oh, what emotions does Det Goren show, sometimes falsely, sometimes not?

Sympathy for the bereaved, murdering scumbag son. (False)


Amazement at how well said son can lie. (Genuine)


("Doing a great job, Val, have a little drinkie.") Genuine


Open-necked, open-mouthed shock at the older cops' interrogation. (False)


Admiration at the older cop's command of the case. (False)

To this I can add nothing but adoration. (Genuine)

Chapter 3 is now available

See what has happened to Bobby since we last looked:

aftermajorcase.blogspot.com

Pass me that sledgehammer

Things might have been better today if they had not been worse.

First, I woke before 4am, having only got to bed at 1.30 (I'd had a doze on the sofa, and couldn't get my act together) and being unable to get to sleep, was up again before 6.30. ON A SUNDAY!

I went back to the garden centre to retrieve my lost property, but that was the only thing that went to plan. I needed something at the chemist, but no pharmacy that sold what I needed was open today. Then my aim to buy a couple of plastice storage boxes from a place that you can park near in theory on a Sunday was stymied by the fact that the only possible bay held a police vehicle and the car the officer had stopped.

So back home to the potting bench. Ha! The holes required drilling through. The third one broke the only drill bit of the correct size. The marks for the holes to secure the legs were only on the part you have to attach the legs to which means they are invisible when the legs are in place and anyway the only possible drill bit is now too short to go all the way through the wood.

I left an angry message on their helpline (conveniently shut on the day most people will need it) and made up my mind to do what they have with the parts they have attached at the factory.. I will get some nails and hammer the bastard thing into submission.

Love

I'd love him to let me feel his pipe:



I'd love him to slam me down:



I just love him.