Slow progress, Sabian and Splod

Well, It's beginning to feel like the storm may be ending. I'm feeling a bit more like myself and I have a new dose of herbal tinctures on their way to promote robust health, vim and vigour (ha, bloody ha).

The scabby chicken is growing back her feathers and the dog, who nearly popped his clogs earlier in the week, is sitting up and taking notice of a lightly boiled egg thanks to medical intervention and over £300 of veterinary fees. The Credit Card company are still bastards and I'm still very muddly but shall never make the petrol/diesel mistake again (hopefully) now that I have taped a huge yellow sticker inside the fuel cap which says (DIESEL NUMPTY !) in big black letters. The insurance company are also still bastards and trying and trying to get me to see some other trick-cyclist but I am not being persuaded to don any trick-cycling-clips for the time being so they can go and rot until I have prepared another diversionary tactic.

NOW, dear Reader, despite the upties and downties of the past few weeks your very own Cusp hath not been idle for I have been busy with needle and thread and sock and crafting more Sockee Monkee. One of them was before Xmas and commissioned by a glamorous young woman in the most select environs of the Scottish capital.

This Sockee monkee is an alien monkee who has beamed down from another sphere. His name is Splod and he comes in peace and is in need of succour and shelter until he can return whence he came.

As he has found a home with two delightful children near Scotland he shall no doubt be introducing his fellow aliens to haggis and a wee dram in the future (it'll be a long, long, long time in Earth years since one Splod year equals one Earth century so the dear children will have him to stay for as long as they want....or longer if Splod likes them: you do all know that Sockee Monkee never know when to leave or shut up, don't you? Honestly, you could put on your 'jamas, switch off all the lights and be half way up the stairs to bed before some Sockee Monkee would even notice you were gone, as they natterchattered away)

More recently another child who lives mid way between here and there was heard to cry

'...and what about me.....Where's my Sockee Monkee ?'

and so, after the Festivities, out I went straightway, hotfoot back into the shed to create another little Sockee chum to join the throng.

His name is Sabian and he's a Skater Dude

--'grind those rails, bro....'

In truth he's a little wayward but basically he's a good kid and needs someone to show him the right way. I knew just the fellow and his Mum. They are very, very nice people and know how to make very nice jam so I feel quite sure that Sabian's new housemates will provide the sort of stability and conserves that he needs and that they'll all complement each other wonderfully.

If you meet these good people, please don't tell them about Sabian's midnight forays into the fruit bowl, will you? When he was here we came down one morning to find banana skins all over the kitchen floor and wheelie marks on the lino. I had to make him promsie he'd never do that again before I sent him off to his new home.

(If there are any spelling misatkes here please forgive me. My brain is still Numpty and Bloggers spellchecker will not work ~~~ that's my excuse anyway ;-))

WARNING: A long and exasperated rant about why 2008 is not turning out as I would hope and why petrol pumps should be Numpty Proof

Here we all are then --- mid January already and I 'm still recuperating from the Christmas holidays and trying to catch up on stuff. I must admit that I had positive thoughts for 2008 but so far life seems to be getting in the way and I am longing for a bit of peace without some demand being made on me.; the kids have been ill, the dog's been sick, one of the chickens has been mauled by the others and taken up residence in the utility room, I've had a tummy bug and everyone wants a piece of me. A part of me longs to move away to the nearby seaside and to a bigger house which we've seen and can afford but everyone elses' life here is settled and happy --- happy at school, happy at work, happy with nearby friends, so we stay and I am sat sitting here (as Hilda Baker would've said) looking at the same scenery.

Quite apart from all this, the old sleeping is not good. Last night I found myself sitting watching a dreadful word quiz on TV at 2.30 a.m. I utterly detest this sort of T.V.but I was so brain dead that all I could do was slob on the sofa with me eyes trained on an idiot, leering and gurning and encouraging me to phone in with an answer which would give me the chance to win £30,000.

To be honest I could do with the money.

Yesterday I was sitting here with daughter (who was also supposedly off school with a tummy bug) and the phone rang. Twas one of my credit card companies.

Now, dear reader, sickening though it is to some, being a Cancerian I am 'careful with money' (no I'm NOT tight, just careful) and so I always pay off the balance on my statements ---except this once on this particular card. I forgot to pay even the minimum balance because it was due on my son's birthday and my mind was numb with Xmas yet desperately trying to cling on to all the things we had to do for 'The Celebration' (which went very, very well actually).

Once the children were back at school I went through the paperwork which accumulates during holiday time and lo and behold discovered my error. I wasn't bothered. I knew I'd incur a late payment charge but it wouldn't be much since the total balance was only just over £65. Apparently the likes of credit card companies do not feel the same about such a paltry sum for as I was sat sitting the telephone rings and the lilting tones of an Indian maiden strive to reach me through a crackle of static and fizz.

Did I know I hadn't paid my minimum payment ? Yes

Why? I forgot.

Was I going to pay it RIGHT NOW ?

Yes O.K.

To cut a long story short I was harangued for the sake of £65 and threatened with all sorts, short of said maiden flying over and giving me a Bombay chinning. Not only that but, having paid up, two hours later a colleague of Miss Bombay Credit Card 2008 phoned and attempted to engage me in the same rigmarole....and then a letter arrived this morning reiterating all the same guff.

Gott in Himmel ! What is the matter with the world? Everything is automated and every computer spews out a nasty missive as soon as the scheckals don't immediately mount up. There's no humanity in all this. What if I 'd just been bereaved ? What if I'd forgotten because I'd just been told I was terminally ill ?

Karma is not on my side. Today, blurry from lack of sleep, struggling with a dodgy tum I determined to go out and buy two items of shopping before returning hot foot to go back to bed. Twas not to be. 'Must fill up the car with petrol' I thought '...don't want to be stranded at home with no petrol' (nearest petrol station is 4 miles away). Filled up, drove to shop, accomplished task and heigh ho, off home we go....except we don't because what has Numpty Head done? Numpty Head has put petrol in the new diesel car and the car won't start and numpty has to sit in the car waiting for an hour and a half for a trailer which takes car and Numpty to a garage 25 miles away to be flushed out and replenished with the right fuel. Numpty Head is £200 down on the old bank account.

Numpty is not pleased with self or world and wishes 2008 would get itself in gear and let me get on with what life I have left.

Not an auspicious start to 2008 or the first proper post of the year, I'm afraid. Maybe I should just go back to bed and wait for the clouds to roll by.....................

Wake up Cat

At least I CAN still rest --- unlike this poor blighter !

Horrid puss !

Resting