21 February 2011 (Monday) - Happy Birthday To Me
In the past I’ve always made a point of doing something special on my birthday. In the last few years I’ve been to the Weald & Downland Open Air Museum, had a tour of the Shepherd Neame Brewery, gone to the London Dungeon, and seen an E.L.O. Experience concert. This year was different. And after having had a rather eventful weekend, I was actually glad to have had a lazy day today.
My mother had arranged to phone me at 9am this morning, so for a laugh I thought I’d be on her doorstep before she made the phone call. I was, and she seemed to like my visit. My Dad was there – he’s usually at his boat on
beach, so it was good to see him too. I had this vague plan to see them on the way to Telescope House, an astronomical shop which has recently opened new premises in the Tonbridge area, but when I phoned the shop, it transpired that they didn’t actually open until next Saturday. So I had a cuppa with Mum & Dad, and came home again. Hastings
Given that my idea of visiting the telescope shop had gone west, I was expecting to fall back onto Plan “B” for today. Plan “B” being to make a start in the garden. It’s all got rather overgrown and messy over the winter. So bearing in mind I’m off work this week I had hoped to get the yard swept and cleared of rubbish, the overgrowth from next door trimmed back, the lawn mowed and fences painted. And maybe even one or two runs to the tip with the rubbish. I got as far as removing the bulb from the fish pond filter (it needs changing every year) and hoiking a dead fish from the pond before I realised it was just too cold to be mucking around in the garden.
So I scoffed KFC, watched more Gavin & Stacey DVDs, and exchanged insults with “My Boy TM” whilst I made a lego model. And then I popped into town. I still had a WH Smiths voucher from Xmas, and I had a plan that I might be able to use the voucher to get a bag for my sexy new laptop. I got a good one – reduced from thirty quid to £9.99. Can’t be bad. And then I came home and tried to sleep through “National Lampoon’s European Vacation”. Note I said “tried to sleep” – the parrot’s squawking was somewhat excessive.
‘er indoors TM came home, and over tea we tried to watch Monty Python’s “Life of Brian”. Again note the “tried to watch”.
I’ve asked “My Boy TM” to find out when the parrot goes back to her owners. Much as it’s been an experience having a parrot, the novelty has truly worn off, and she’s just too noisy now.
There’s no enjoyment to be had from a pet which simply doesn’t stop screaming…