Alas poor squirrel,,,,

Ivan obviously decided this morning that a fresh out the fridge chicken wing was not as biologically appropriate raw food as he'd like.... so, whilst walking there was a minor case of

                     

 
    V   




The tree rat lost........  breakfast for Ivan was very biologically appropriate and definitely raw

I pretended I didn't know him until I got to the exit to the park........

A Friday bits and pieces post...

I am a bit broken... we had really high winds the other night and the mob decided that every bang or crash outside was someone trying to burgle the house... so I got naff all sleep after midnight, and as I'd only gone to bed at 11 pm, well yes... then it was miserable, damp and revolting weather wish so my joints ganged up on the rest of my body and decided to strike... by the time my boss got into work at 8.30 am I'd texted to say that whilst I was at my desk and working it would be best to ignore me, save for throwing regular coffee at me, as I was probably going to get very sarcastic, stroppy and that there may be swearing ..... Luckily as I was working rather than being at home where I really probably had every right to be they were very good about the ignoring save for coffee thing.

Today has been better.. though I have learnt two things..... firstly, bursting out laughing at something you are reading in a file is all very well and good... until someone asks you what you are laughing at... ok, now what I was laughing at was that the trainee had put in a document that "the explosion occurred without warning whilst he was undertaking the rim job".... and the picture that actually flashed through my mind was nothing like what had actually happened....yeah, no, I didn't explain why I found that funny...

The other thing I learnt...... when you get in the lift, it helps if you press the button to move to the floor you want to go to.. lifts cannot read your mind... and standing in them for three minutes wondering why they aren't moving, then pressing the button to contact security thinking it's broke is, well, somewhat embarrassing particularly when security, who have explained to you in words of one syllable why the lift isn't moving whilst trying not to laugh at you, are on the floor you are going to and you have to walk past them......

but hurrah, it is now the weekend, and I shall, oh, I was going to say relax but I've just looked at the diary and my next assignment is due on Monday.... guess I'd best do that then!

Great Expectations...

No I'm not going to talk about Dickens.... and I've never been able to consider the serious portrayal of Miss Haversham since reading Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next books... well you wouldn't if you see her in your mind racing the car against Toad of Toad Hall...

As anyone whose read this blog will know, I read anything, seriously, if it's got words on it, put it in front of me and I'll read it (ok, if it's instructions, or say a recipe I might not do what it suggests, but I will read it) ... the thing is whilst I might read some books I might not actually enjoy them... despite what friends who recommend them, or reviews I've read suggest.

As an example, some friends rave about them, but I don't like the Pern books by Anne McCaffrey, which as I do read a lot of fantasy I probably should like them, I've tried reading them but no, doesn't happen for me... though I think this maybe because I just don't do dragons (and get very annoyed with the fact that some fantasy authors only seem to think it is proper fantasy if there is an obligatory dragon in it, even if it serves no real purpose).

As a completest I keep buying books in a series as they come out even if I find the odd book that doesn't quite do it for me (I got very concerned that one of my series, the Discworld books by Terry Pratchett, were going this way after reading Unseen Academicals, but thankfully it's just a one off and it got back on track with both the last Tiffany Aching book and then Snuff - though I do wonder with his illness how long he and his assistant Rob can keep going).

Sometimes it's not a weak book in a series, or a bad thought out plot, take the Harry Potter books, I enjoyed reading them I found after the fourth book I was tempted to get out the red pen and go through editing to tighten up the story (don't start me on halitosis suffering sparkly vampires, really, no, just no).

Which leads me after a long winded waffle to the point of the post... on Christmas day, in my excitement at being the proud owner of SmutKindle and some vouchers I bought those books that had been at the top of my wish list to read but which I refused to pay a fortune for the paperbacks for... and a couple of them are still sitting on the kindle unread despite the fact that I have since bought yet more books (hurrah for free books and ones of under £2).... the only reason for this is that I am worried I am going to be disappointed by  them having read rave reviews just about everywhere I have built up in my mind that these books, and one in particular, are going to be wonderful....and I don't want to be disappointed, I probably won't be, but in the back of my mind there is this nagging feeling that I might not get the enjoyment out of the story I am expecting.

I should just bite the bullet and read the damn things!

Nostalgic Midweek Music...

My friends, who know me far too well, frequently feed my shower gel addiction (erm, there might have been about 9 new bottles for Christmas)... anyway, this morning I cracked open a new bottle (hell I'd been back at work a whole day and felt the need to treat myself - what do you mean, but there are already 4 open bottles in the shower??).  Anyway, by the time I'd used said shower gel I was getting some lovely fuzzy flashbacks from the smell to a rather wonderful night a long long time ago involving some games with vodka and cinnamon sticks (never underestimate the kitchen for interesting things to play with)

All day I've been on a bit of a nostalgia trip, particularly as every damn time I catch the smell of said shower gel I have been trying to stop blushing

So, whilst I go reminisce some more, two songs which take me back to around the same sort of time ...

A silly little post.......

In the three and a bit years I've been in my current job I have had one keyboard, it has been broken in lovingly and is perfect

It has survived floods (me spilling coffee on it mainly), earthquakes (me dropping files on or next to it), foreign invasions (me dropping things like staples, paper clips etc into it.... see it's a much more resilient keyboard than the one on my lap top, in which the ctrl key lost the battle with the nail clipping from the dog that got under it... and yes, I have learnt my lesson and make sure it's shut before I do the dogs nails now). It even survived repeated attempts by Facilities to remove it on the grounds that because the little white letters have rubbed off the black keys .. why yes, I have a funky keyboard, the background is silver...apparently not having legible letters breaches health and safety or some such nonesense (like I need the letters, I touch type, hell I'm sitting in the book room in the dark typing this)

But alas, today it met it's match as an avalanche of cous-cous salad arrived suddenly over it, a direct result of trying to type one handed whilst eating lunch and accidentally catching the lunch box and sending it flying.  I tried to resurrect it, but I fear Facilities were already on the look out as when I asked for air spray, anti bac and other cleaning things they magically arrived, pronounced it dead and took it away.

I shall miss that keyboard....... I might have accidentally written most of my first novel using it (but we won't mention that to work)

January Short story....

Ok, trial run time again (and this time as my usual beta reader/cheer leader/hand holder is on holiday with added nerves!)


The photo prompt....

I was almost bouncing in the seat as the coach pulled into the station. Catching sight of him through the rain, standing on the pavement beneath the black umbrella, the fluttering feeling in my stomach exploded, like a million butterflies would erupt from my throat as soon as I opened my mouth. 

I’d spent a lot of time on the two hour journey remembering New Years Eve, the night we’d met.

Until that night I had always considered that I’d been unlucky.  I mean, take my genetic makeup for example, it was as if, should there was a supreme creator who decides these things, then they were really having a bad day when I was conceived, as evidenced by the fact that I have so far struggled through my life as a short sighted, heavily freckled, ginger haired, gay computer geek.

Whilst I’d ditched the milk bottle glasses for contacts at 15, around the same time I came out to my family and friends, the ginger hair remained the bane of my life.  I got far more grief over being a ginger than I did over being gay, particularly at school.  It didn’t help that I was tall and skinny, preferring books and computers to sports.

 I was about thirteen when I’d realised I preferred boys over girls, but it took another two years for me to become comfortable enough with this knowledge before I shared it with anyone else.  The core group of my school friends, my fellow computer nerds if you will, more or less just accepted my coming out without comment, but gossip spreads, no matter how careful you are about who you tell, and before long it was pretty common knowledge at school.  Even then the taunts were usually along the lines of me being the four eyed ginger nut.

All this probably also goes some way to explain why, at the age of 18, I spent New Year’s Eve at my great aunt Mabel’s 80^th party in the local church hall, rather than out clubbing with my friends.  Well, no probably not, because really clubbing isn’t really something my friends and I go in for, and if I hadn’t gone to the party I’d probably be on my own, sitting in front of the computer in my bedroom. 

Family occasions when I was younger were fun, running around with my cousins high on too much fizzy pop and sweets until we crashed out in a corner, usually where the coats had been abandoned.  As I’d got older though I’d rebelled against having to attend yet another boring family do, one in which I would no doubt end up bickering, and possibly fighting, with those self same cousins I’d once played with.  I had tried to argue with my parents that I would be happy to spend New Year’s Eve at home, that all my friends, well the virtual ones, would be on line and I could see the New Year in with them. When my skills at persuasive argument failed to impress I attempted humorous sarcasm and finally resorted a bout of teenage sulking, but mother put her foot down for once and insisted. 

The weather forecast had threatened a frosty night, but by nine o’clock the hall was crowded and uncomfortably warm, a buzz of chatter clashed with the drone of easy listening background music someone had put on the stereo.  After I’d done the obligatory rounds to say hello to everyone, and in an effort to avoid the inevitable questions about how college was going and whether I had found a girlfriend yet, the older generation preferring to think my being gay was a phase I was going through, I’d grabbed a couple of bottles of beer from the drinks table and slunk to the far end of the hall.  For a second I thought about slipping out the emergency exit but catching mum’s eye, and the sharp shake of her head when I went towards the door, I slumped down onto the steps that led up to the curtained off stage area; content to drink alone with just my own thoughts on what a miserable time I was having for company.

I’d almost reached the bottom of the second bottle and was beginning to get a bit of a buzz when I got a prickly sort of feeling, as though I was being watched.  Looking up I expected to find myself subject to the disapproving glare of one of the parental units, disappointed at my anti-social behaviour once again. It wasn’t. My cousin Lily, the closest in the family to me in age, was walking purposefully towards me, with her a girl and boy of about the same age, neither of which I recognised.

“Hi cuz,” Lily’s eyes sparkled with mischief and I pulled myself to my feet to meet her head on.  We’d turned from inseparable allies as kids into bitter enemies during our early teens, when our respective parents had resorted to keeping us at opposite sides of the room when ever we met.  We’d called a truce more recently, the pair of us growing up at last, much to our family’s relief.

“Lily,” I countered, raising my bottle in a mock salute.

“These are my Uni friends, Sam, who I am in halls with and his sister Jules, they’re staying for the holidays as there parent’s are skiing.  Guys, this is my cousin Aiden.”

“Hi,” Sam stepped forward and offered his hand to me. “I’m her pseudo-boyfriend for the duration.”

“Her what?” I stuttered as I took hold of his hand.  His face was framed by short, artfully messed, hair which not as bright red as my own was definitely ginger.  Brown eyes sparkled at me as he raised his eyebrows.  I just stared, he was extremely cute.

“Pseudo-boyfriend,” he repeated with a huge grin, not letting my hand go or breaking eye contact.  It was probably only for a few seconds that we stood there but it felt like longer, with the curse of the fair skinned I could feel heat rising in my face as I blushed beneath my freckles.

“I need to talk to you,” Lily’s words finally broke the connection.  With a glance round the room she flitted quickly up the steps and behind the thick dark blue velvet curtains of the stage. Sticking her head back round she hissed at us, “Come on, quickly.”

It was very dark behind the curtain, light seeping in round the edges from the main hall.  With no seating we settled onto the stage, Sam sitting to my left with Lily and Jules opposite. I frankly stared as Jules reached out and pulled Lilly closer to her and then looped her arm round her shoulder.  Lily lent into her for a second then pulled herself up straight but not out of Jules’ embrace.

“Pseudo-boyfriend, do you get it now?”  Her question held something of a challenge.

“I, erm...” To give myself time to think before I replied I lifted the bottle to my lips only to discover it was empty.  Setting it down in front of me before I continued, “Yeah, I get it Lils, your gay too.”

“Well, kind of, I’m bi,” she admitted with the hint of a grin the challenge in her expression fading. 

“Since when?” the question seemed to fall out of my mouth before I thought about it, what the hell did it matter how long?

“Not that long,” she acknowledged her smile widening as she turned to look at Jules. “It came as a bit of a surprise to me too.  I hadn’t really ever thought about it and, well, Jules came to visit Sam earlier in the term, it just kind of happened.  We’ve been together for about three months now.”  She shrugged as she finished speaking. 

“Have you told your parents? I mean, they must know....” I looked between the three of them as the light suddenly dawned.  “Ah, pseudo-boyfriend, your parents think you’re going out with Sam?”  I didn’t know whether to feel annoyed or upset by her deception, I mean, it wasn’t exactly fair on Sam.

“Yes,” Lily looked at the floor as she continued. “It was easier this way, I wasn’t ready to tell them, I, well, heard stuff, I mean, when you...”

“What stuff?”

“The family,” she continued to study the floor for a while before raising her eyes to meet mine.  “When you came out,” she continued with a sigh.  “I know your parents were fine with it, but, well mine, and some of the others, particularly the aunts, they, well, weren’t very nice about it.”

“Not nice?” I hissed. 

I stared at Lily, shocked by her words. I had always felt like I had had the easiest coming out possible, certainly compared to some of the stories I’d heard from other gay friends or that I’d read about online.  I hadn’t planned to come out when I did, it just kind of happened.  There we were enjoying a family Saturday evening, sitting in the lounge watching TV and as the credits to Dr Who started I just blurted it out.

My parents had been fantastic, not making a big issue of it, telling me that it was fine and that they loved me, and that was it.  I am not sure how the rest of the family found out, though I strongly expect that my mother told most of them herself, knowing her to show that she was proud of me and that I had her support.  I’d never heard anything negative from the family and I wondered if my parents had shielded me from that or whether it was something they knew nothing of either.

In the silence I felt a warm hand reach offer and take hold of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze but not letting go. The anger that had been building seemed to fade away, as though that simple gesture offered me support.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” Jules rose to her feet as she spoke, “you two both on beer?”  I nodded and assumed Sam did too, I didn’t look away from Lily.

“No,” she said eventually. “My parents aren’t like yours.  I, well, daren’t, not yet anyway.  I want to, but, I’m just not ready.”

“I’m not the first in the family, if rumour is to be believed?”  I reminded her.

“I know,” Lily nodded. 

The family legend was an old one.  Lily and I shared a maternal grandmother whose youngest sister, Dora, had, during the war, taken in a woman lodger whose own home had been destroyed by enemy bombing. After peace was declared and Dora’s husband Eric was demobbed her lodger, Agnes, didn’t leave and for a while the three of them shared the house.  A few years later Dora and Eric divorced, causing a family scandal all by itself, and she and Agnes lived together for the rest of their lives.  Most of the family believed that they’d fallen in love during the war and remained together as a couple, though some did try and argue they’d just been friends. 

“Fair enough,” I conceded, telling people had to be Lily’s decision.  “For what it’s worth, you’ve got my support.  I’m not so happy with the pseudo-boyfriend thing though.” I admitted glancing back at Sam who still held onto my hand.

“I volunteered,” he offered with a shrug.  “My sister and I have both been out for years, our parents avoid the issue by generally not being available, hence the skiing trip whilst we are home from Uni.  We know what it’s like not to have supportive parents, I mean could probably have coped if it was just one of us, but when we both came out I think they felt it was a reflection on their parenting rather than, well, genetics. So when Lily invited us to stay for New Year it just seemed like the best way round it.”

I hadn’t really needed any clarification that Sam was gay too, my gaydar may be underused and a little out of tune but it had definitely pinged when I’d first seen him and, after all, he was sitting here with his hand clasped in mine. 

Jules returned, bearing the promised bottles and we sat around on the dusty stage floor talking as we drank.  They told me of the fun they were having at university and I told them of my incredibly boring part time job as a sales assistant which helped keep me busy when I wasn’t in college. 

Whether it was the alcohol or the sense of camaraderie I found myself frequently looking at Sam, sometimes catching him watching me; we both blushed far too easily.  Lily and Jules sat opposite; wrapped in each others arms.  Occasionally when I caught her eye Lily smiled back looking particularly pleased with herself.  I couldn’t blame her, she was obviously very happy with her girlfriend.

As midnight approached, from the other side of the curtain, the background music was switched over to the radio station where the count down started for the New Year, accompanied by the chants of the family.

10, 9, 8

Their arms still wrapped around each other Jules and Lily rose to their feet, lost in their own world.

7, 6

I glanced towards Sam and our eyes met, rather unsteadily we scrambled from the floor.

5, 4

I couldn’t seem to break eye contact as we reached out towards each other

3, 2

Without thinking about what I was doing I wrapped my arms around him, I could feel my heart hammering in my chest

1

“Happy New Year,” we whispered at each other and without thinking our mouths joined together in a very promising kiss.

 That was two months ago.  We met the next day for coffee and talked for hours, and whilst we've been in contact by text and phone, this is the first time we've seen each other since New Year.  This weekend I get to spend the whole weekend with him, and I feel like my luck has definitely changed for the better.

The coach pulled up a short way from where Sam stood and I slung my bag over my shoulder as the door opened with a hiss.  He obviously hadn’t seen me as he was still watching the passengers from the coach in front disembark.  I crept up behind him and ducked under the umbrella.  He jumped slightly as I snaked my left arm around his waist and I leant into him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

“Hi,” I whispered looking up at him as he broke into a smile.  Yes, right then I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

Domesticity...

I have a fridge magnet (actually I have several but that's another story) that says "dull women have immaculate houses".... and it's safe to say from that that I am definitely not dull!

I have to admit to having some sort of antipathy towards housework, particularly since being on my own..... it may be in part rebellion as when with my ex I was the one responsible for the housework (and cooking, and cleaning, and the garden, and the kennels etc etc) and if it wasn't done properly or well enough I used to get pointed remarks and dramatic sighs.... anyway, I am not a complete slob and the kitchen and bathrooms are always sparkly clean, which given that I am in those rooms, well the kitchen anyway, the majority of the time I am home, is probably why.

Now normally it takes me forever to work myself up into hoovering and dusting the rest of the house (upstairs because carrying the hoover up is a complete faff and carrying it down is, for someone as accident prone as I am, an adventure!) but for some reason today I have cleaned, I have yet to work out why as it usually takes until I have visitors to stay to get it to this level of freakily clean and tidy.... I wonder if I've caught some sort of housework bug... if so I hope I've got it well and truly out my system!

Well tomorrow is the last day of the festive holidays, and I intend to spend it finishing off my short story for the YA GLBT Goodreads group January photo challenge ..... I may post it tomorrow on here again as a test run, though my beta reader is on holiday and so it will be very much a hunt the mistake, typo, continuity error kind of thing as I always find something wrong after I've posted it somewhere!