That's right - not a thing!
Friday, September 21, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Compliments of the House
Today I tried to use a voucher at the hairdresser's, issued by the company's head office for the specific branch at which I presented it, and stating quite clearly that it was for a "complimentary shampoo, cut and dry".
The stylist, who was fairly new, went to ask the senior stylist on duty what to do with it.
The senior person came out from her hiding place looking mystified. "It doesn't say how much it is for," she said. "I can't see the amount of the discount."
I told her that complimentary means free, and she didn't charge me, but I could see she wasn't quite sure whether to believe me.
Good think I didn't ask for complementary therapy...
The stylist, who was fairly new, went to ask the senior stylist on duty what to do with it.
The senior person came out from her hiding place looking mystified. "It doesn't say how much it is for," she said. "I can't see the amount of the discount."
I told her that complimentary means free, and she didn't charge me, but I could see she wasn't quite sure whether to believe me.
Good think I didn't ask for complementary therapy...
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Sunday, September 09, 2012
Saturday, September 08, 2012
Time Over and Out
On Thursday we lost the most perfectly-named naturalist in the world. Terry Nutkins, star of many animal programmes, many of them for children, died of leukaemia. He was 66.
I never could believe it was his real name. I mean, it had to be made up, right? But no, it really was his name. Many childhood memories will be fondly recalled as people now grown up reminisce about the happy times they had enjoying his broadcasts.
In a complete non-sequitur, my Friday contained some diverse moments.
I was meeting a friend for supper, but having spotted a shop a couple of weeks ago (on my way to see the lovely Vincent) that sells back bags, I decided to nip back when it was open to buy one.
I already have a purple one and a rusty orange one, but I wanted a bright pink one. Sadly the only one they had that appealed was in aqua.
The shop manager was a lovely east African Asian woman who listened to all my ailments and symptoms and then offered me a free massage on the Mobiliser.
This astonishing machine has a moving roller that vibrating massagers (no, not those!) cannot reach. Where it finds resistance it continues working to loosen things up before moving on.
And I could buy one for just £2,995! Perhaps my Euromillions win from last night will help - all of £5.80!
I walked across the Thames to Waterloo Station to meet up with my old university friend Tom.
We hadn't met up since 1997, when he took me to lunch at the Houses of Parliament a few months after being elected as an MP. He didn't stand at the last election, and now runs an organisation called Sector4Focus, whose stated aim is to "promote cross-sector partnerships between charities and businesses or local government for mutual benefit, providing bespoke consultancy, training, facilitation and comment."
Back in our student days Tom had lovely long, blond locks. And I was slim and curvaceous. TIme is cruel.
We had a pleasant evening of catch-up, in a restaurant opposite the empty space where my grandmother's uncle had his baker's shop, from which she was married in 1897. Then I had to head home and feed the cats - and the foxes! Life is full of responsibilites.
I never could believe it was his real name. I mean, it had to be made up, right? But no, it really was his name. Many childhood memories will be fondly recalled as people now grown up reminisce about the happy times they had enjoying his broadcasts.
In a complete non-sequitur, my Friday contained some diverse moments.
I was meeting a friend for supper, but having spotted a shop a couple of weeks ago (on my way to see the lovely Vincent) that sells back bags, I decided to nip back when it was open to buy one.
The shop manager was a lovely east African Asian woman who listened to all my ailments and symptoms and then offered me a free massage on the Mobiliser.
This astonishing machine has a moving roller that vibrating massagers (no, not those!) cannot reach. Where it finds resistance it continues working to loosen things up before moving on.
And I could buy one for just £2,995! Perhaps my Euromillions win from last night will help - all of £5.80!
I walked across the Thames to Waterloo Station to meet up with my old university friend Tom.
We hadn't met up since 1997, when he took me to lunch at the Houses of Parliament a few months after being elected as an MP. He didn't stand at the last election, and now runs an organisation called Sector4Focus, whose stated aim is to "promote cross-sector partnerships between charities and businesses or local government for mutual benefit, providing bespoke consultancy, training, facilitation and comment."
Back in our student days Tom had lovely long, blond locks. And I was slim and curvaceous. TIme is cruel.
We had a pleasant evening of catch-up, in a restaurant opposite the empty space where my grandmother's uncle had his baker's shop, from which she was married in 1897. Then I had to head home and feed the cats - and the foxes! Life is full of responsibilites.
Friday, September 07, 2012
Thursday, September 06, 2012
All In - Day 1
Bobby's offering me his neck to make up for the worst, most insulting episode in all LOCI's history.
Wednesday, September 05, 2012
Tuesday, September 04, 2012
Monday, September 03, 2012
Aggressive or Stupid?
Which would you rather be?
Today I just about managed to stop a child giving ducklings and a moorhen chick some crisps, which they were doing with the connivance of their accompanying adult. Crisps (potato chips) being very salty are death to birds, especially baby ones, so as you can imagine, given that there was a split second to stop the murder, I was rather abrupt.
The adult ("I am NOT their mother" - " But you are the adult responsible for them") accused me of being aggressive. Personally I would have settled for abrupt, or even assertive, but being accused of aggrssion makes me, well, aggressive! I pointed out the many "do not feed our animals" notices, but she was deaf to all this, seeking only confrontation.
Of course, I told her she must be stupid to disobey the notices. Anyone disagree? She was obviously keen to prove me right, because shortly afterwards it seems she pointed me out to a security guard. I don't know what she told him, but he contacted a visitor manager. As the woman slunk away I was able to tell them about her actions, and that I'd stopped her and her charges. At first the visitor manager thought I was the one who had her called. She couldn't believe the woman was stupid enough to bring attention to herself when she was so obviously in the wrong.
Their intention to to locate her and take her to task.
So, on balance, I'd prefer to be aggressive than stupid. Stupid kills the animals. Aggressive protects them. No contest.
Today I just about managed to stop a child giving ducklings and a moorhen chick some crisps, which they were doing with the connivance of their accompanying adult. Crisps (potato chips) being very salty are death to birds, especially baby ones, so as you can imagine, given that there was a split second to stop the murder, I was rather abrupt.
The adult ("I am NOT their mother" - " But you are the adult responsible for them") accused me of being aggressive. Personally I would have settled for abrupt, or even assertive, but being accused of aggrssion makes me, well, aggressive! I pointed out the many "do not feed our animals" notices, but she was deaf to all this, seeking only confrontation.
Of course, I told her she must be stupid to disobey the notices. Anyone disagree? She was obviously keen to prove me right, because shortly afterwards it seems she pointed me out to a security guard. I don't know what she told him, but he contacted a visitor manager. As the woman slunk away I was able to tell them about her actions, and that I'd stopped her and her charges. At first the visitor manager thought I was the one who had her called. She couldn't believe the woman was stupid enough to bring attention to herself when she was so obviously in the wrong.
Their intention to to locate her and take her to task.
So, on balance, I'd prefer to be aggressive than stupid. Stupid kills the animals. Aggressive protects them. No contest.
Sunday, September 02, 2012
I wanna tell you a story
My earliest experience of being in the presence of celebrity occurred when I was only about 5 years old.
The New Cross Empire was just a short walk from my chlidhood home.
It was built as a music hall in the early years ot the 20th century.
One day, as I was being wheeled towards the theatre, a figure came out which, even at my very young age, I recognised as Max Bygraves.
Max was a popular entertainer. He had many hit songs and TV shows. Everybody knew who Max was. The Empire was a local venue for him, as he was born in neighbouring Bermondsey, SE London. His catchphrase was "I wanna tell you a story." His most famous songs include "Tulips from Amsterdam" and the naive (children's?) song (these days I wonder...) "You're a pink toothbrush, I'm a blue toothbrush".
A few years ago I idly googled Max and was surprised to find he was alive and well and living in Australia. No more. On Friday he died, a last link with my childhood.
The theatre itself was demolished many years ago. This is what they did with the site:
That's right, folks. For more than 50 years it has been a used car lot. Every time I went to secondary school the view slapped me in the face, as the site is bang opposite my school building.
What a waste.
The New Cross Empire was just a short walk from my chlidhood home.
It was built as a music hall in the early years ot the 20th century.
One day, as I was being wheeled towards the theatre, a figure came out which, even at my very young age, I recognised as Max Bygraves.
Max was a popular entertainer. He had many hit songs and TV shows. Everybody knew who Max was. The Empire was a local venue for him, as he was born in neighbouring Bermondsey, SE London. His catchphrase was "I wanna tell you a story." His most famous songs include "Tulips from Amsterdam" and the naive (children's?) song (these days I wonder...) "You're a pink toothbrush, I'm a blue toothbrush".
A few years ago I idly googled Max and was surprised to find he was alive and well and living in Australia. No more. On Friday he died, a last link with my childhood.
The theatre itself was demolished many years ago. This is what they did with the site:
That's right, folks. For more than 50 years it has been a used car lot. Every time I went to secondary school the view slapped me in the face, as the site is bang opposite my school building.
What a waste.
NBC Shame
I'm choosing Post 3800 to express my disgust with NBC at something far worse than cancelling LOCI.
They have bought the US rights to the Paralympics, but are not showing them. They are going to make a one hour highlights show after the Games have finished.
The disrespect to both the incredibly talented athletes, and to every disabled person worldwide (apparently there are 38 million in the US alone, and the number of disabled ex-service personnel must be vast) is just unbelievable.
Over here people are complaining about the ad breaks and the crass commentaries, but there is wall-to-wall coverage and every stadium is packed to the rafters.
Let's hope this leads to the US never again being awarded the Olympics, or at least not until the country and its broadcasters learn to give parathletes, and the disabled in general, the regard and respect they deserve.
And SHAME on NBC.
They have bought the US rights to the Paralympics, but are not showing them. They are going to make a one hour highlights show after the Games have finished.
The disrespect to both the incredibly talented athletes, and to every disabled person worldwide (apparently there are 38 million in the US alone, and the number of disabled ex-service personnel must be vast) is just unbelievable.
Over here people are complaining about the ad breaks and the crass commentaries, but there is wall-to-wall coverage and every stadium is packed to the rafters.
Let's hope this leads to the US never again being awarded the Olympics, or at least not until the country and its broadcasters learn to give parathletes, and the disabled in general, the regard and respect they deserve.
And SHAME on NBC.
Saturday, September 01, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Top Treats
As this morning was fine, I decided to pay a return visit to Port Lympne Wild Animal Park to see if I could catch up with some of the creatures I missed two weeks ago. I was luckier than I ever could have imagined.
I managed to see both the Carpathian lynx and her cubs, though only one was visible enough to photograph. They were eating dead bunnies.
This is the mother:
The cub was making a meal of it:
There were four tigers visible today, three of them posing nicely together.
The barbary lions looked cosy together.
I've never seen a binturong before.
This lemur was not the bamboo one on the sign. I think it's a type of sifaka. Very beautful.
The rusty spotted cat was tiny.
The margay was gorgeous.
Then the very rare fossa put in an appearance. Like all the animals I saw at feeding time, he was voracious.
I managed to see both the Carpathian lynx and her cubs, though only one was visible enough to photograph. They were eating dead bunnies.
This is the mother:
The cub was making a meal of it:
There were four tigers visible today, three of them posing nicely together.
The barbary lions looked cosy together.
I've never seen a binturong before.
This lemur was not the bamboo one on the sign. I think it's a type of sifaka. Very beautful.
The rusty spotted cat was tiny.
The margay was gorgeous.
Then the very rare fossa put in an appearance. Like all the animals I saw at feeding time, he was voracious.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
An Anniversary and an Almost
I have a huge sense of guilt that I missed the anniversary of my beloved Henry, who died on 25th August 2009, snatched from me by the inadequacies of a supposedly specialist vet and a virulent respiratory infection.
He was special, naughty, sweet, entertaining, clever, affectionate, scornful, a proper little person, who talked to me a lot - as long as he felt like it.
Today is the second anniversary of my darling Shelley's death. He was 19-and-a-half, a wonderful age for a wonderful boy. He passed away in his sleep just before midnight on 30th August 2010.
You cannot imagine a more affectionate and sweet-natured cat, not to mention absolutely beautiful.
I will remember, love and miss them both for as long as I live.
He was special, naughty, sweet, entertaining, clever, affectionate, scornful, a proper little person, who talked to me a lot - as long as he felt like it.
Today is the second anniversary of my darling Shelley's death. He was 19-and-a-half, a wonderful age for a wonderful boy. He passed away in his sleep just before midnight on 30th August 2010.
You cannot imagine a more affectionate and sweet-natured cat, not to mention absolutely beautiful.
I will remember, love and miss them both for as long as I live.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Three in a row
Having just had two days of watching Vincent, today I topped up with our annual UK Vixens reunion in London. (OK, I know last year we had two, when Maui came to visit, but that was a lovely exception.)
You just can't have too much Vincent.
Ann, who doesn't blog any more, but will always be a treasured member of the Gang, is in charge of finding restaurants. Today we came out of Victoria Station and looked across the road. There was a perfectly decent restaurant just a short stumble away, and we ensconced ourselves for a couple of hours eating pizza and delicious desserts, and talking Vincent. Good find.
Ann had to go fairly early, so we walked past Buckinham Palace and through Green Park to get her to a convenient tube station, then Eliza, Diane and I carried on to look at the Bomber Command monument I blogged about at its unveiling in June. Then we retraced our steps and found a coffee shop where we all had - Ta-Da! - tea.
Diane thought I might photoshop her picture. Even if I could, I don't see why I'd need to:
I just had to get a picture of Eliza's handcuff necklace. I wonder why she wears that?
They insisted I have my picture taken. If I could have photoshopped anything, it would have been my boobs out of this shot:
For some reason Diane and Eliza wanted to know all about Chained. They even insisted I tell them about the "twist". Diane was quite to keen to know if Vincent's character dies, and if so how.
We also reminisced about those who have come and gone from the Vixen and V-blogging world. We, of course, are here to stay.
Missing Vixens, where are you? Let us know.
You just can't have too much Vincent.
Ann, who doesn't blog any more, but will always be a treasured member of the Gang, is in charge of finding restaurants. Today we came out of Victoria Station and looked across the road. There was a perfectly decent restaurant just a short stumble away, and we ensconced ourselves for a couple of hours eating pizza and delicious desserts, and talking Vincent. Good find.
Ann had to go fairly early, so we walked past Buckinham Palace and through Green Park to get her to a convenient tube station, then Eliza, Diane and I carried on to look at the Bomber Command monument I blogged about at its unveiling in June. Then we retraced our steps and found a coffee shop where we all had - Ta-Da! - tea.
Diane thought I might photoshop her picture. Even if I could, I don't see why I'd need to:
I just had to get a picture of Eliza's handcuff necklace. I wonder why she wears that?
They insisted I have my picture taken. If I could have photoshopped anything, it would have been my boobs out of this shot:
For some reason Diane and Eliza wanted to know all about Chained. They even insisted I tell them about the "twist". Diane was quite to keen to know if Vincent's character dies, and if so how.
We also reminisced about those who have come and gone from the Vixen and V-blogging world. We, of course, are here to stay.
Missing Vixens, where are you? Let us know.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Film Review - Sinister
Well, yesterday was the first part of my Vincent D'Onofrio long weekend Frightfest film fun.
The evening started with the introduction by one of the festival's organisers, Paul McEvoy, of one of the film's writers, C. Robert Cargill, whose first visit to the UK this was. He was to answer questions at the end, but it was by then gone 11pm, and it was time to get to the station for the last trains home.
The film was pretty scary - though it would have been less so without the impressive sound system, which was used to great effect to help every sudden loud noise make you jump out of your seat. At the start, you can't help thinking that Ethan Hawke's character Ellison Oswald is bonkers to take his family to a house where another family had been killed and a daughter gone missing, when he has a daughter himself and a disturbed son. Then, when strange things start to happen, you can't understand why he doesn't get the hell out, financial problems or not. When things finally get so serious that he moves them out in the middle of the night, you're sure they will not be allowed to go. But they get back to their own home, where Ellison eventually takes a call that turns everything on its head, and leads to the final shocking denouement.
The acting was very good, especially Michael Hall D'Addario as the disturbed son. Vincent's role as Professor Jonas, to whom Ellison turns for advice on the symbology from the crime scenes, is small, and takes place only in a window on a computer scree - not much chance to shine, though of course, being Vincent he makes his cameo count. He sounded as if he was suffering from a bit of a cold.
All in all, worth seeing, especially in a big cinema with a good sound system, but enjoyable enough to give you a good fright on your TV at home.
The evening started with the introduction by one of the festival's organisers, Paul McEvoy, of one of the film's writers, C. Robert Cargill, whose first visit to the UK this was. He was to answer questions at the end, but it was by then gone 11pm, and it was time to get to the station for the last trains home.
The film was pretty scary - though it would have been less so without the impressive sound system, which was used to great effect to help every sudden loud noise make you jump out of your seat. At the start, you can't help thinking that Ethan Hawke's character Ellison Oswald is bonkers to take his family to a house where another family had been killed and a daughter gone missing, when he has a daughter himself and a disturbed son. Then, when strange things start to happen, you can't understand why he doesn't get the hell out, financial problems or not. When things finally get so serious that he moves them out in the middle of the night, you're sure they will not be allowed to go. But they get back to their own home, where Ellison eventually takes a call that turns everything on its head, and leads to the final shocking denouement.
The acting was very good, especially Michael Hall D'Addario as the disturbed son. Vincent's role as Professor Jonas, to whom Ellison turns for advice on the symbology from the crime scenes, is small, and takes place only in a window on a computer scree - not much chance to shine, though of course, being Vincent he makes his cameo count. He sounded as if he was suffering from a bit of a cold.
All in all, worth seeing, especially in a big cinema with a good sound system, but enjoyable enough to give you a good fright on your TV at home.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
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