Stephen has a job. I haven’t. I’m writing letters at the moment to various businesses, and hoping that my application to ASDA is rejected. Call me snob, but I don’t want to work there. However, I do believe that once I get a job my parents won’t be able to manage. Yesterday for instance, somehow (i.e. by my dad) the cream had been spilt in the fridge, and I was the one that had to clean it up. When my dad goes on courses in some far-flung city, like Birmingham, I’m his home-based personal assistant. He phone me up with a number of tasks and errands, from sending e-mails to finding people’s/ schools’ telephone numbers. I’m also the handy man. The sink broke yesterday and I was the one that had to fix it. I also had to replace a printer cartridge and now I have a black hand.
On a better note, the Marchwood Village Fair is soon, and it’s a Medieval theme, and if I’m not working (which at this rate, I won’t be) I may be dressing up and helping. Also, July 21st Harry Potter is out, and the shops of Hythe are turning themselves into Diagon Ally, and I’m helping to decorate one. It should be really fun!
Now I have to finish tidying my room and fixing the sink, so until next-time!
Friday, 22 June 2007
Thursday, 21 June 2007
Lost Lake
I just read an article on the BBC website that I found reasonably funny. I thought that I was bad when it came to losing things, but Chile has lost an entire lake. Park rangers patrolled the area in March and it was perfectly fine, but come May, and the lake had completely vanished. All that was left was blocks of ice that had been floating on top.
One theory is that an earthquake opened up a fissure and the lake drained away. However, as drastic as this seems to the local wildlife, it must be noted that this lake wasn't even there thirty years ago, and that region's landscape is in constant change.
One theory is that an earthquake opened up a fissure and the lake drained away. However, as drastic as this seems to the local wildlife, it must be noted that this lake wasn't even there thirty years ago, and that region's landscape is in constant change.
So Long, Farewell, A bientot
My brother has left for la Ville-lumière, Paris, leaving me with my parents in miserable Southampton. You are quite possibly confused, thinking "But he lives in Aberystwyth, why now Southampton?" Well, I'm a student, and Southampton is where my parents live, but seeing as mostly my friends read this (occasionally) they'd know that.
So I moved into my flat at Aberystwyth, and it’s all nice. All except Mily (my flatmate) is turning it pink, so I will have a bachelor bedroom rather than a bachelor pad. If all else fails I will strategically place crabs all around the flat, seeing as it is one of her deepest phobias. That’ll teach ‘er. After a few days I left for home, and had quite a pleasant (7 hour) train journey, but it was by no means remarkable. I got on, sat down, got off- and that’s about it. No enraged drunks wielding knives or women going into labour I’m afraid.
The first Friday I was back I went to see Spiderman 3 with Jo. I thought it was quite good, after everyone saying how it was a disappointment. I suppose the fact I had received negative press about it went for its favour, as I did not have high expectations. Also, I’m never one to agree with the mob. Not much happened between then and my brother’s awaited arrival (except the church BBQ, which involved a strange dog-lady). So Tuesday my brother graced us with his presence, however, as he has a job in Paris (at McDonald’s, I can’t scoff, at least he has one), so could only stay for a week. On Friday we went to see another film, with Jo and Katy: The Fantastic Four. Stone-the-crows! it was awful. Okay, not that bad, but mediocre at best.
Oh, I nearly missed out the trip to Poole. We went to Poole to meet up with Kaylee, and that was an enjoyable thorough-fair! We looked at Poole pottery, caught up with each other’s gossip, and went to a sweet shop (though the Turkish delights were disappointing). We dined, as always, at a Wetherspoons. I also brought a HUGE complete works of Shakespeare, from The Works, and want to by the Colan-Doyle one as well.
Saturday we went to The Fisherman’s Rest in Lymington. It is renowned for its brilliant food, but its service can be a bit bi-polar. When we came in we had to wait at the bar for 10 minutes, without even being acknowledged with a “We’ll be with you in a moment.” Then the miserable barman didn’t give my dad a full pint (which in his books deserves instant dismissal, but he was in his 50s so probably the manager). The waitresses were very friendly, and the starter went without a hitch. Then we came to the fated main course. Oh, poor, woeful fated main. Sorry, just hyping up a banal restaurant faux pas story. I had ordered venison, and it wasn’t until the rest of my family had been served their meals did they realise they had run out of venison and not cooked me my meal. But the waitress was profusely apologetic and I asked for a pork dish, that my mum had, and that was out within 5 minutes- what’s more, it was delicious and free! Yes, I saved £14! I was, however the only one to have dessert (cheesecake as usual).
Sunday was Father’s Day. We cooked him fried breakfast, and then a cream-tea for the evening. My grandparents joined us for the evening soiree. I cooked a chocolate cake, scones and cheese scones with a red onion relish. All of which (even if I do say so myself) were practically perfect in every way. Before you go on about modesty- false modesty is just hypocrisy.
Tuesday, Stephen abandoned, forsook, and left me. Not that I begrudge him living in beautiful, vibrant Paris, while I’m stuck here.
Today, I went to the Post Office, and met Margaret from down the road. She’s a lovely old dear that we buy our eggs from, and she plies us with a boundless supply of rhubarb. So I walked back with her, and found out she’s been living in the area all her life, and moved into the farm where she lives in 1954. So there you go, some random social history. By the way, Stephen, the speculation to whether her name is actually Margaret is over because someone had a chat with her, calling her that name.
So that’s a basic overview since I last wrote. However, I expect that now I’m home I’ll probably write a few more entries than I usually do.
So I moved into my flat at Aberystwyth, and it’s all nice. All except Mily (my flatmate) is turning it pink, so I will have a bachelor bedroom rather than a bachelor pad. If all else fails I will strategically place crabs all around the flat, seeing as it is one of her deepest phobias. That’ll teach ‘er. After a few days I left for home, and had quite a pleasant (7 hour) train journey, but it was by no means remarkable. I got on, sat down, got off- and that’s about it. No enraged drunks wielding knives or women going into labour I’m afraid.
The first Friday I was back I went to see Spiderman 3 with Jo. I thought it was quite good, after everyone saying how it was a disappointment. I suppose the fact I had received negative press about it went for its favour, as I did not have high expectations. Also, I’m never one to agree with the mob. Not much happened between then and my brother’s awaited arrival (except the church BBQ, which involved a strange dog-lady). So Tuesday my brother graced us with his presence, however, as he has a job in Paris (at McDonald’s, I can’t scoff, at least he has one), so could only stay for a week. On Friday we went to see another film, with Jo and Katy: The Fantastic Four. Stone-the-crows! it was awful. Okay, not that bad, but mediocre at best.
Oh, I nearly missed out the trip to Poole. We went to Poole to meet up with Kaylee, and that was an enjoyable thorough-fair! We looked at Poole pottery, caught up with each other’s gossip, and went to a sweet shop (though the Turkish delights were disappointing). We dined, as always, at a Wetherspoons. I also brought a HUGE complete works of Shakespeare, from The Works, and want to by the Colan-Doyle one as well.
Saturday we went to The Fisherman’s Rest in Lymington. It is renowned for its brilliant food, but its service can be a bit bi-polar. When we came in we had to wait at the bar for 10 minutes, without even being acknowledged with a “We’ll be with you in a moment.” Then the miserable barman didn’t give my dad a full pint (which in his books deserves instant dismissal, but he was in his 50s so probably the manager). The waitresses were very friendly, and the starter went without a hitch. Then we came to the fated main course. Oh, poor, woeful fated main. Sorry, just hyping up a banal restaurant faux pas story. I had ordered venison, and it wasn’t until the rest of my family had been served their meals did they realise they had run out of venison and not cooked me my meal. But the waitress was profusely apologetic and I asked for a pork dish, that my mum had, and that was out within 5 minutes- what’s more, it was delicious and free! Yes, I saved £14! I was, however the only one to have dessert (cheesecake as usual).
Sunday was Father’s Day. We cooked him fried breakfast, and then a cream-tea for the evening. My grandparents joined us for the evening soiree. I cooked a chocolate cake, scones and cheese scones with a red onion relish. All of which (even if I do say so myself) were practically perfect in every way. Before you go on about modesty- false modesty is just hypocrisy.
Tuesday, Stephen abandoned, forsook, and left me. Not that I begrudge him living in beautiful, vibrant Paris, while I’m stuck here.
Today, I went to the Post Office, and met Margaret from down the road. She’s a lovely old dear that we buy our eggs from, and she plies us with a boundless supply of rhubarb. So I walked back with her, and found out she’s been living in the area all her life, and moved into the farm where she lives in 1954. So there you go, some random social history. By the way, Stephen, the speculation to whether her name is actually Margaret is over because someone had a chat with her, calling her that name.
So that’s a basic overview since I last wrote. However, I expect that now I’m home I’ll probably write a few more entries than I usually do.
Friday, 1 June 2007
Finally! A post!
My brother has been pestering me to write an update. So begrudgingly I have. It’s not really done begrudgingly but we try to use every opportunity we get to make the other feel guilty for somehow putting us out. Like the fact that he has been stealing all my songs on my ipod (the one you're listening to now). Twins eh? They just have to have exactly what the other one has: ipod tunes, birthdays, genes. What about those horrendous twins on big brother? (“It’s pink! I love it!”) At least we don’t actually try to be exactly the same like they do.
Today my bedroom is a fire hazard, not due to mess, per se- well my room is a mess- but due to the suitcases and boxes that have replaced any habitable space. I’m moving out tomorrow and into my new flat. Then I will be going home soon!
Where to start with all the other things I’ve been up to in the last few weeks. Exams, they went quite well, I think they went as well as they could have done, really. This bank holiday weekend (just gone) was the Church Weekend Away…at home. Paradoxical, I know. Sunday was meant to be a picnic on the beach but the bad weather meant it was in the church hall. I baked scones for everybody (Joel tried to have two but I set him straight); a huge baguette with basil, tomatoes, roasted peppers and feta; and a potato salad, with Philadelphia cheese, lemon juice, and the left over basil. Just an unnecessary list aimed to make you salivate. Cruel, aren’t I?
Monday was the trip to Chester. Most the students chose to go to Chester Zoo, and we noted that most the Secondary School teenagers avoided that option as it was ‘uncool’. However, students no longer care so we opted to relive our childhood. It was quite fun, and I have decided I want a pet parrot (perhaps finally intelligent conversations!), but that wont be for another few years yet- owing to their expense and the fact my new flat is a pet-free zone.
This week I have been lazy, occasionally interrupting my inactivity to pack, eat or bake cupcakes with bright green icing. My student pastor and the ladies who came to inspect our flat were all quite impressed with them.
Adios!
Today my bedroom is a fire hazard, not due to mess, per se- well my room is a mess- but due to the suitcases and boxes that have replaced any habitable space. I’m moving out tomorrow and into my new flat. Then I will be going home soon!
Where to start with all the other things I’ve been up to in the last few weeks. Exams, they went quite well, I think they went as well as they could have done, really. This bank holiday weekend (just gone) was the Church Weekend Away…at home. Paradoxical, I know. Sunday was meant to be a picnic on the beach but the bad weather meant it was in the church hall. I baked scones for everybody (Joel tried to have two but I set him straight); a huge baguette with basil, tomatoes, roasted peppers and feta; and a potato salad, with Philadelphia cheese, lemon juice, and the left over basil. Just an unnecessary list aimed to make you salivate. Cruel, aren’t I?
Monday was the trip to Chester. Most the students chose to go to Chester Zoo, and we noted that most the Secondary School teenagers avoided that option as it was ‘uncool’. However, students no longer care so we opted to relive our childhood. It was quite fun, and I have decided I want a pet parrot (perhaps finally intelligent conversations!), but that wont be for another few years yet- owing to their expense and the fact my new flat is a pet-free zone.
This week I have been lazy, occasionally interrupting my inactivity to pack, eat or bake cupcakes with bright green icing. My student pastor and the ladies who came to inspect our flat were all quite impressed with them.
Adios!
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