I have a slight problem brewing in the newly refurbished Annex bathroom......
Dampness.
Yes,yes, I know showers, sinks and toilets are always damp and showers create steam which creates dampness.This, however is more insidious than that unfortunately. As we decorated we found that the plaster behind the old shower position had become damp and so I had to dry it out before we could carry on. Well having now completed the work and having no symptoms for over a month this dampness has reared its ugly head again. Small droplets of water appear to form through the ceiling paint as if by osmosis then they fall to the ground. There are not many, perhaps a dozen or two and they form very slowly over days not minutes. I think that it is probable that the damp course is either damaged or insufficient, or non existent and that this moisture is rising from the ground. Although there is also the possibility that it is dampness coming from the bell tower which appears to have some damaged slats.
Anyhow what ever it is one thing is for sure that at some point this will cost more money and work.
I will try to put a couple of air bricks into the wall and see if they cure the problem then take it from there.
Today we went to the auctions to soak up that nutty Norfolk quaintness and to see if we could pick-up any more bargains. It was half term and the place was crawling with screaming, shouting short folk. Absolute mayhem. I wanted to look at several sets of chairs but whenever I tried to do so there seemed to be either an old couple sitting in them for lunch munching on their sandwiches or children, who 'believed' that they were too tired to keep standing. So instead they all made a point of getting in my way.
Claire and I fought our way through the crowd to see what might tickle our fancies, but all we found was an old Singer Sewing machine. At this point I have to confess to becoming a Singer-holic having bought 3 machines as both decoration for my three front Georgian window sills and as a useful tool for the Quilting classes that Alison hopes to chair. Today there was the perfect little table top machine with all it's bits and bobs I was willing to pay upto £30 but managed to finally secure it with just £22. So now I own four Singer Sewing machines and with just three windows to display them in.one of them is surplus to requirements. I may EBay it.
Only one person seriously bid against me and she was knitting as she bid. Not only that she was knitting with four needles at once. I know women can multi-task but really, four knitting needles at once. She looked like a Ninja waving the needles around in wild abandonment. Then in a very NFN (Normal for Norfolk) moment we saw, through the thick pony-tailed gathering of men one individual, one lost soul in a world of his own.
The man was in his sixties, dressed in a green wax jacket he weaved in and out through the crowd and on his right hand (also taking a keen interest in activities) was a Badger.
Of course it wasn't, silly, it was a puppet, a badger puppet and despite having no really good reason to sport such a puppet glove he was enjoying sharing the moment with his puppet Badger. They both inspected every lot with interest and every now and then his badger would give a little squeak of approval. Claire and I were amazed to see his wife join him and walk alongside him as his badger puppet pontificated over the different lots.
We were both dying to see if his puppet would bid for something, would the auctioneer see its tiny little paws? Or would he have to shake his whole booty?
And then if his bid was successful and he was asked to give his name, would the badger simply give a little squeak?
But alas we had things to do, time was against us and so we left him in his own little world. Quite, quite mad!
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Friday, 21 October 2011
For all the world it was like a scene from Roger Rabbit!
There is something about a log fire that evokes a sense of reminiscence and reflection on times past and an 'all's well with the World' ambiance. It is quite fake of course, those good memories of toasting bread on my Grandmothers open coal fire then spreading thick dollops of dripping on it and gulping them down with glee are just that, good memories. Roasting Chestnuts that I had collected with my Dad, falling asleep at my Grandparents in the reassuringly cosy warm after glow of a dying fire are all good memories. My Uncle playing the piano in a darkened room with just a candle to light the music and the dancing shadows of the flames from the fire being the only other light in the room. The whole family gathered together, closely huddled around the coal fire, for once all as one, a comforting close nit family playing 'Snakes and Ladders'. Those were my childhood memories, my happy childhood memories, my comfort blanket of memories if you will, memories that make me yearn to return to the uncomplicated days when all was well with the world.
Well of course that was absolute nonsense, all was very much not well with the world and those halcyon days were a fallacy. We were all gathered around the open fire and eating anything that we could cook on the fire because for the third time that week we were thrown into a blackout as the miners were on strike along with just about every other Tom Dick and Harry in a Union. We had no TV so we had to play Snakes and bloody Ladders, again, whilst Uncle John tried to deaden the silence by banging out some tunes on the old Joanna (Piano). We were all 'gathered' around the fire because we were bleeding freezing. There were no street lights as the power cuts simply knocked out great swathes of London, no traffic lights, nothing but chaos and mayhem.
How many of you have recalled those memories any time in the last 20 years? Not many I would venture. No, the memories we pluck out of the bosom of our breast fed ageing memories are the comforting ones, the recollections that represent security and that we stumble upon by serendipity.
We may be thinking of one thing and out of the blue a memory suddenly discloses itself slipping out like a dollop of Mayo oozing from the other side of a burger landing squarely on your lap you think where the hell did that come from? But you actually know where it seeped from and actually you were caught off guard as you were not really expecting it just there and then.
Last week I was in a shop in Norwich and I went into a lift, pressed the button and prepared for lift off when suddenly a little nipper run in just as the doors were closing. As we stood there staring at the stainless steel doors, in the customary silence that we have all come to take for granted, a wry smile developed almost involuntary as one of those dollops of mayo squeezed out all over my respectability.
Now I have to tell you at this point that this very story has caused me to interrupt the tale as another recollection has spiked itself into my easily led mind! I saw a great experiment carried out in a lift once that thoroughly intrigued me. It was set up to show the immense power of peer pressure.
A man joined a group of people who were already in a lift. As is the norm (I mean by that, the usual thing to do, not that his name was Norm, although of course it may have been but that is not important right now), he turned and faced the inside of the lift's doors as were the rest of the crowd.
The lift started on it's way skywards and very subtlety the crowd (all of which were 'in' on the experiment) slowly turned clockwise and faced the side wall leaving the guy in social terms the 'odd' one out. His discomfort was tangible and a few seconds later, just as subtlety and just as slowly he too turned to face the same wall. As soon as he had joined them they again did the same manoeuvre with the same result of him following suit. They eventually ended up by completing a full 360 degree turn just as the doors opened and managed to make this guy follow them at every turn, just by peer presure and not a word was said throughout. Just brilliant!
So anyway back to my other drop of mayo. The circumstances of me and this child being in the lift reminded me of an incident many years ago in a Supermarket in Brighton. We were raising money for children in need or some such foolishness and as such we had gotten dressed up in fancy dress. The entire Management Team had agreed to all dress as hippies with long flowing wigs, sun glasses (so no one could see the embarrassment in our souls) vivaciously coloured flouncy shirts and flared trousers that could have covered Big Ben.
What we didn't consider was the frequency with which we had to deal with drunk (and druggy) shoplifters. We were on the 'Dark Side' of the A23 in Kemp Town and everyday we would be sitting on top of some violent shoplifter, if not two or more in a day. However, Brighton is as a 'Cosmopolitan' a City as you could get and even in our Bell Bottoms we really did not look out of place as we run down the street like exaggerated Laurence Llewelyn Bowens chasing some guy with a scar slashed across his face clinging on to a bottle of Jack Daniels for all he was worth. Just three more hippies in a City full of such attention seekers, honestly no one seemed to batten an eye lid!
Well one shoplifter made a bolt for the lift with his ill gotten gains and the lift doors just closed when I got there. I immediately pressed the button for the other lift as there were no stairs to go up. A second or two later my butchery Manager and his Supervisor joined me. They were dressed as Fred and Barney from the Flintstones and had really good shop bought masks which were very accurate likenesses indeed. The lift opened and we piled in, turned to face the doors and to continue on this Keystone Cops farcical chase.
As we stood there and just as the doors were closing a small boy managed to squeeze into the lift too.
He immediately turned to face the doors as well and there we all stood in total silence, me at the back dressed as the most way out of all hippies, Fred Flintstone to the left of the little boy and on his right Barney Rubble both of which were brandishing a cave man's plastic club. All staring at the doors, waiting in anticipation for them to open, I can honestly say that I don't think I have ever been in such a surreal situation in my life. In his haste to catch the lift the boy had clearly not picked up on this oddity and it was not until we were about half way up that the poor kid realised what he had walked into, for all the world it was like a scene from Roger Rabbit!
It was so funny to see him slowly turn his head to the left and continue to look up to see Fred Flinstone followed by a glance at Barney Rubble to his right. He said nothing and returned his stare to the doors once more, probably preying for them to open. The two butchers stood motionless and a few more seconds passed, we were nearly at the upper floor now. Then just as the lift was settling Fred Flintstone suddenly turned, without any warning, brandishing his toy club he took a giant step in front of the boy and shouted "Ha!"
The Boy jumped, Barney jumped and even I jumped.
The doors opened and the poor little lad run out of them as a Hare from the greyhound. VOOM.... and he was gone.
I hope and prey that he has successfully suppressed that memory and that it is not to be his blob of mayo many years hence.
Oh and no Fred, Barney and the old Hippie never did catch the shoplifter.
2,632
Well of course that was absolute nonsense, all was very much not well with the world and those halcyon days were a fallacy. We were all gathered around the open fire and eating anything that we could cook on the fire because for the third time that week we were thrown into a blackout as the miners were on strike along with just about every other Tom Dick and Harry in a Union. We had no TV so we had to play Snakes and bloody Ladders, again, whilst Uncle John tried to deaden the silence by banging out some tunes on the old Joanna (Piano). We were all 'gathered' around the fire because we were bleeding freezing. There were no street lights as the power cuts simply knocked out great swathes of London, no traffic lights, nothing but chaos and mayhem.
How many of you have recalled those memories any time in the last 20 years? Not many I would venture. No, the memories we pluck out of the bosom of our breast fed ageing memories are the comforting ones, the recollections that represent security and that we stumble upon by serendipity.
We may be thinking of one thing and out of the blue a memory suddenly discloses itself slipping out like a dollop of Mayo oozing from the other side of a burger landing squarely on your lap you think where the hell did that come from? But you actually know where it seeped from and actually you were caught off guard as you were not really expecting it just there and then.
Last week I was in a shop in Norwich and I went into a lift, pressed the button and prepared for lift off when suddenly a little nipper run in just as the doors were closing. As we stood there staring at the stainless steel doors, in the customary silence that we have all come to take for granted, a wry smile developed almost involuntary as one of those dollops of mayo squeezed out all over my respectability.
Now I have to tell you at this point that this very story has caused me to interrupt the tale as another recollection has spiked itself into my easily led mind! I saw a great experiment carried out in a lift once that thoroughly intrigued me. It was set up to show the immense power of peer pressure.
A man joined a group of people who were already in a lift. As is the norm (I mean by that, the usual thing to do, not that his name was Norm, although of course it may have been but that is not important right now), he turned and faced the inside of the lift's doors as were the rest of the crowd.
The lift started on it's way skywards and very subtlety the crowd (all of which were 'in' on the experiment) slowly turned clockwise and faced the side wall leaving the guy in social terms the 'odd' one out. His discomfort was tangible and a few seconds later, just as subtlety and just as slowly he too turned to face the same wall. As soon as he had joined them they again did the same manoeuvre with the same result of him following suit. They eventually ended up by completing a full 360 degree turn just as the doors opened and managed to make this guy follow them at every turn, just by peer presure and not a word was said throughout. Just brilliant!
So anyway back to my other drop of mayo. The circumstances of me and this child being in the lift reminded me of an incident many years ago in a Supermarket in Brighton. We were raising money for children in need or some such foolishness and as such we had gotten dressed up in fancy dress. The entire Management Team had agreed to all dress as hippies with long flowing wigs, sun glasses (so no one could see the embarrassment in our souls) vivaciously coloured flouncy shirts and flared trousers that could have covered Big Ben.
What we didn't consider was the frequency with which we had to deal with drunk (and druggy) shoplifters. We were on the 'Dark Side' of the A23 in Kemp Town and everyday we would be sitting on top of some violent shoplifter, if not two or more in a day. However, Brighton is as a 'Cosmopolitan' a City as you could get and even in our Bell Bottoms we really did not look out of place as we run down the street like exaggerated Laurence Llewelyn Bowens chasing some guy with a scar slashed across his face clinging on to a bottle of Jack Daniels for all he was worth. Just three more hippies in a City full of such attention seekers, honestly no one seemed to batten an eye lid!
Well one shoplifter made a bolt for the lift with his ill gotten gains and the lift doors just closed when I got there. I immediately pressed the button for the other lift as there were no stairs to go up. A second or two later my butchery Manager and his Supervisor joined me. They were dressed as Fred and Barney from the Flintstones and had really good shop bought masks which were very accurate likenesses indeed. The lift opened and we piled in, turned to face the doors and to continue on this Keystone Cops farcical chase.
As we stood there and just as the doors were closing a small boy managed to squeeze into the lift too.
He immediately turned to face the doors as well and there we all stood in total silence, me at the back dressed as the most way out of all hippies, Fred Flintstone to the left of the little boy and on his right Barney Rubble both of which were brandishing a cave man's plastic club. All staring at the doors, waiting in anticipation for them to open, I can honestly say that I don't think I have ever been in such a surreal situation in my life. In his haste to catch the lift the boy had clearly not picked up on this oddity and it was not until we were about half way up that the poor kid realised what he had walked into, for all the world it was like a scene from Roger Rabbit!
It was so funny to see him slowly turn his head to the left and continue to look up to see Fred Flinstone followed by a glance at Barney Rubble to his right. He said nothing and returned his stare to the doors once more, probably preying for them to open. The two butchers stood motionless and a few more seconds passed, we were nearly at the upper floor now. Then just as the lift was settling Fred Flintstone suddenly turned, without any warning, brandishing his toy club he took a giant step in front of the boy and shouted "Ha!"
The Boy jumped, Barney jumped and even I jumped.
The doors opened and the poor little lad run out of them as a Hare from the greyhound. VOOM.... and he was gone.
I hope and prey that he has successfully suppressed that memory and that it is not to be his blob of mayo many years hence.
Oh and no Fred, Barney and the old Hippie never did catch the shoplifter.
2,632
Monday, 17 October 2011
Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth...... but her claws would rip your mouth to shreds!
The last year has been a constant frenzy of planning, decorating, and deadlines complicated further by the need to start having paying guests as soon as was possible. In this 'frenzy' of activity some work load had to be put on hold and one of the major losers in this regard was the dreaded 'Paper~work'. This workload was building and building and the more it grew,tiddly pom, the more it went on, tiddly pom, tiddly pom, growing!
Well inevitably you end up missing important things when you don't keep up with the paperwork and as a result of just such an issue Alison started to plough through the paperwork piled up in the office on Sunday and I provided a form of back~up on Monday by gathering any paperwork I could find dotted around the house. I plonked the pile on our very large dinning room table, sat back and watched a slow landslide start to form as the sheets of paper on the top of the pile started to slide down, picking up momentum (and many other sheets too) the landslide turned into an avalanche and as the sudden out pouring and eventual collapse of the 'Bumf Mountain' subsided, I watched a single sheet of A5 slide off the table and waft gently down to the hard stone floor.
As I started each new pile I assigned a piece of Paper with a heading such as 'TO ACTION', or 'TO FILE', you get the idea, and eventually I had a good dozen or so piles dotted around the table to which I would add every time I selected a piece of paper from my game of paper Kerplunk.
I DID NOT, HOWEVER, prepare any safety measure to protect my system from a cat. Actually not just a cat but a bored and restless cat (Scribble) who had decided that I had neglected her for too long and whom wanted to play a game. The game was called "Guess the pile" and the objective was quite clear, I (the player known as 'The Victim') had to select a piece of paper from the pile in the centre of the table (called the 'Pile~o~crap') read it, decide which pile it should be placed onto and if required make a note on a bit of paper (called 'The To Do List).
Scribble the cat (known as 'The pesky player') then had to second guess which pile I would next have to gain access to and get over to it before I could, ensuring that she is sat firmly and squarely in the centre of the pile so that absolutely nothing else can be added. She could gain extra points if she could go and sit on the right pile JUST before 'The Victim' (me) actually pulled the next piece of paper from the 'Pile~o~crap'. More points for vexation could be added by clever use of sauntering, ie if she could successfully get up and walk to another pile in such a way that she managed to scatter several other piles on route AND was able to wag her tail into my mouth, eyes or facial areas as she did so. The bonus points came when she found that she could go and spread out on my To Do list every time that I wished to add something to it.
And so the game continued, me reaching out to delve in to the lucky dip of fate whilst the cat was already starting her tour of the table somewhat like a ball in a roulette wheel deciding where she should park her bottom and seemingly choosing the most appropriate pile most times. As I put all my money on Red it seemed to frequently land on black. I have no idea how she managed to be quite so accurate and indeed so vexatious, a talent in the household that I have always considered more my domain!
After I had given up, Scribble realising that I had conceded then followed me into the next room and even as I sit here now she has been nudging my hands as I try to type this and has also made me remove the laptop from the afore said 'Lap' so that I have to twist sidewards to write this blog whilst she is left sitting pretty in my lap with out a care in the world.
Well inevitably you end up missing important things when you don't keep up with the paperwork and as a result of just such an issue Alison started to plough through the paperwork piled up in the office on Sunday and I provided a form of back~up on Monday by gathering any paperwork I could find dotted around the house. I plonked the pile on our very large dinning room table, sat back and watched a slow landslide start to form as the sheets of paper on the top of the pile started to slide down, picking up momentum (and many other sheets too) the landslide turned into an avalanche and as the sudden out pouring and eventual collapse of the 'Bumf Mountain' subsided, I watched a single sheet of A5 slide off the table and waft gently down to the hard stone floor.
I looked at the dysfunctional pile of paperwork spread across the table then I looked down at the sheet that had fallen to the floor. It, in turn, looked right back up at me and the only word that I could read on it was...
RELAX!,
written in a loud bold font. I looked back at the pile on the table with an eye of irony knowing that this was not even the half of it. Picking up the leaflet from the floor, noticing it was actually the guarantee for the new washer/dryer, I placed it on the table thus starting the first of many different piles as I sorted out this ramshackled chaos.As I started each new pile I assigned a piece of Paper with a heading such as 'TO ACTION', or 'TO FILE', you get the idea, and eventually I had a good dozen or so piles dotted around the table to which I would add every time I selected a piece of paper from my game of paper Kerplunk.
I DID NOT, HOWEVER, prepare any safety measure to protect my system from a cat. Actually not just a cat but a bored and restless cat (Scribble) who had decided that I had neglected her for too long and whom wanted to play a game. The game was called "Guess the pile" and the objective was quite clear, I (the player known as 'The Victim') had to select a piece of paper from the pile in the centre of the table (called the 'Pile~o~crap') read it, decide which pile it should be placed onto and if required make a note on a bit of paper (called 'The To Do List).
Scribble the cat (known as 'The pesky player') then had to second guess which pile I would next have to gain access to and get over to it before I could, ensuring that she is sat firmly and squarely in the centre of the pile so that absolutely nothing else can be added. She could gain extra points if she could go and sit on the right pile JUST before 'The Victim' (me) actually pulled the next piece of paper from the 'Pile~o~crap'. More points for vexation could be added by clever use of sauntering, ie if she could successfully get up and walk to another pile in such a way that she managed to scatter several other piles on route AND was able to wag her tail into my mouth, eyes or facial areas as she did so. The bonus points came when she found that she could go and spread out on my To Do list every time that I wished to add something to it.
And so the game continued, me reaching out to delve in to the lucky dip of fate whilst the cat was already starting her tour of the table somewhat like a ball in a roulette wheel deciding where she should park her bottom and seemingly choosing the most appropriate pile most times. As I put all my money on Red it seemed to frequently land on black. I have no idea how she managed to be quite so accurate and indeed so vexatious, a talent in the household that I have always considered more my domain!
After I had given up, Scribble realising that I had conceded then followed me into the next room and even as I sit here now she has been nudging my hands as I try to type this and has also made me remove the laptop from the afore said 'Lap' so that I have to twist sidewards to write this blog whilst she is left sitting pretty in my lap with out a care in the world.
Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth...... but her claws would rip your mouth to shreds!
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Somewhere there is a parallel universe out there in deepest Pennsylvania....
We achieved the completion of the annex certainly because we have good friends and relatives but also because the Electrician, Plumber and Builder all bought in to the project. They fully took on board our vision of the end result and also the time constraints that we were under. However finding them all was an experience, you may recall the plumber that I talked of in my first Blog where he appeared to have decided to tell his wife that he was retiring whilst I was on hold on the phone!
See http://theoldbakery.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-plumber-retired.html
We also had several trades in to quote for a job who never ever got back to us despite our continual nudging and requesting of the quotes. We could not believe so many people would bother to turn up to the house to give us a quote for work and then simply disappear again. Perhaps the challenge was just too great,
Claire was tripping across the worlds cyber-space searching for any other blogs relating to refurbishing a building to create a B&B when she found this blog;-
http://makingbandb.blogspot.com/2008/09/being-busy-does-not-always-mean-real.html
These people are basically doing much the same as us but in Pennsylvania USA and low and behold in one of their first blogs they describe the self same frustration regarding getting an electrician;
"Tim is trying to find a good electrician. Getting the electrical system dealt with is the last "big issue" we have before we can start the remodeling and renovations. We did have an electrician come to the house, but he hasn't returned any of Tim's calls for the last two months. Time to find a new one."
So this does not seem to be one of those NFN (Normal for Norfolk) issues after all but appears to be the same the world over. Do not despair however as the NFN factor is still alive and well out here in deepest Norfolk.
Last week we wanted a Chinese take-away and so contacted the local restaurant. Well it is not really a restaurant as it only does delivery and trying to obtain a leaflet with its menu on was a challenge from the word go. It is run from a shop in the next village, just two miles away, and whilst the shop has the appearance of a Chinese take away from the outside (red and yellow signs an' all) it is no more than a kitchen inside. I opened the door to get a menu from the place and to my surprise there was no Chinese girl, no restauranty style bar from which the non-existing Chinese girl could barely see over and no paper strips forming themselves into a Chinese year calander. There was just an oriental chappy sitting with his back to me talking Mandarin down the phone. The room was completely empty except for the cases of bulk Chinese ingredients dotted around the floor, the man, his chair, the phone and the table it sat upon. In the back room I could just make out the kitchen. The lights in the room were all off. This, I thought, does not look like a Chinese Take-Away. The guy had not realised that I was standing right behind him and continued to rant on. I sidled backwards out of the door carefully latching it closed. How, I mused, do I obtain a leaflet with a menu on it?
A few days later I was near the Take-away and saw two Chinese women leave the building so I asked how I could get a menu. Not a word of reply came back, she simply turned back into the mystery building re-appearing with a menu, handed it to me in silence then got into a car and drove off.
So disregarding all my obvious concerns and all the above 'red flags' I went ahead and placed an order. You see I like my Chinese food and my brain is somewhat like a White board with all its 'stuff' written in Dry Marker pens frequently having any memories that act as a boundary wiped clean away.
I know that there are many women out there thinking yeah, that is so typical of a man but I believe women have the ultimate skill in wiping off painful experiences from their memories, how else could they ever go through child birth more than once!
So I phone up Mr Woo Wing Wang Wong (Name adjusted to protect the guilty) and placed my order at his fast food chain, after all we are close enough to get their FREE delivery service. The order was duly placed, my address was taken, so far so good....... "OK it will be with you in one hour" and as I digest this speedy delivery time the phone was down and the deal done.
FAST FOOD in Norfolk is not fast, actually the word FAST when used in Norfolk about any thing is an oxymoron, things cannot both be in Norfolk and be Fast, it's just not going to happen.
One wonders how the Jets stay up in the sky without stalling and it becomes more obvious as there are no fast trains, not a single Motorway in the County, I haven't seen a running track and I am bloody sure that the only thing that the speed cameras ever take a photo of is me!!!
2,580
See http://theoldbakery.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-plumber-retired.html
We also had several trades in to quote for a job who never ever got back to us despite our continual nudging and requesting of the quotes. We could not believe so many people would bother to turn up to the house to give us a quote for work and then simply disappear again. Perhaps the challenge was just too great,
Claire was tripping across the worlds cyber-space searching for any other blogs relating to refurbishing a building to create a B&B when she found this blog;-
http://makingbandb.blogspot.com/2008/09/being-busy-does-not-always-mean-real.html
These people are basically doing much the same as us but in Pennsylvania USA and low and behold in one of their first blogs they describe the self same frustration regarding getting an electrician;
"Tim is trying to find a good electrician. Getting the electrical system dealt with is the last "big issue" we have before we can start the remodeling and renovations. We did have an electrician come to the house, but he hasn't returned any of Tim's calls for the last two months. Time to find a new one."
So this does not seem to be one of those NFN (Normal for Norfolk) issues after all but appears to be the same the world over. Do not despair however as the NFN factor is still alive and well out here in deepest Norfolk.
Last week we wanted a Chinese take-away and so contacted the local restaurant. Well it is not really a restaurant as it only does delivery and trying to obtain a leaflet with its menu on was a challenge from the word go. It is run from a shop in the next village, just two miles away, and whilst the shop has the appearance of a Chinese take away from the outside (red and yellow signs an' all) it is no more than a kitchen inside. I opened the door to get a menu from the place and to my surprise there was no Chinese girl, no restauranty style bar from which the non-existing Chinese girl could barely see over and no paper strips forming themselves into a Chinese year calander. There was just an oriental chappy sitting with his back to me talking Mandarin down the phone. The room was completely empty except for the cases of bulk Chinese ingredients dotted around the floor, the man, his chair, the phone and the table it sat upon. In the back room I could just make out the kitchen. The lights in the room were all off. This, I thought, does not look like a Chinese Take-Away. The guy had not realised that I was standing right behind him and continued to rant on. I sidled backwards out of the door carefully latching it closed. How, I mused, do I obtain a leaflet with a menu on it?
A few days later I was near the Take-away and saw two Chinese women leave the building so I asked how I could get a menu. Not a word of reply came back, she simply turned back into the mystery building re-appearing with a menu, handed it to me in silence then got into a car and drove off.
So disregarding all my obvious concerns and all the above 'red flags' I went ahead and placed an order. You see I like my Chinese food and my brain is somewhat like a White board with all its 'stuff' written in Dry Marker pens frequently having any memories that act as a boundary wiped clean away.
I know that there are many women out there thinking yeah, that is so typical of a man but I believe women have the ultimate skill in wiping off painful experiences from their memories, how else could they ever go through child birth more than once!
So I phone up Mr Woo Wing Wang Wong (Name adjusted to protect the guilty) and placed my order at his fast food chain, after all we are close enough to get their FREE delivery service. The order was duly placed, my address was taken, so far so good....... "OK it will be with you in one hour" and as I digest this speedy delivery time the phone was down and the deal done.
FAST FOOD in Norfolk is not fast, actually the word FAST when used in Norfolk about any thing is an oxymoron, things cannot both be in Norfolk and be Fast, it's just not going to happen.
One wonders how the Jets stay up in the sky without stalling and it becomes more obvious as there are no fast trains, not a single Motorway in the County, I haven't seen a running track and I am bloody sure that the only thing that the speed cameras ever take a photo of is me!!!
2,580
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Ta Daaah! All is revealed....
Just as the speed limit is actually merely that, not a target that you should strive to reach but a maximum that you could stretch to, the same goes with deadlines. It seems that every deadline that I am set I simply have to work right up to the wire. Deep inside my body clock takes over and the job some how stretches out to use every minute of the time available. Much to Claire's frustration this was how the Annex refurbishment turned out as we expected our paying guests to arrive any time after 1pm on Monday and after some 3 months of fairly full on work we finally finished the last job, cleared the room of all the tools and clutter and completed the vacuum cleaning with just 5 minutes to spare!
The guests arrived several hours later and were really happy with the place.
We'll be opening the place up as a holiday cottage from January and using it as additional space for B&B guests and for those who want to have 'quilters' retreats or family gatherings here. So please continue to tell all your friends, relations and anyone else you know of the delights of Norfolk and The Old Bakery.
We're delighted to have achieved "phase 2" of The Old Bakery restoration within a year of moving in and we couldn't have done it without you.
SO, to all of those that lent a hand with this mini 'Grand Design' thank you, as the tightness to the deadline demonstrates just how important (and totally invaluable) you all were in enabling us to complete the project.
Straight to the before and after photos now, there are a lot but you have the power to 'skip' so you can't complain.
Here we go..... (just in time for the deadline - we're still on BST you know!)
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The guests arrived several hours later and were really happy with the place.
We'll be opening the place up as a holiday cottage from January and using it as additional space for B&B guests and for those who want to have 'quilters' retreats or family gatherings here. So please continue to tell all your friends, relations and anyone else you know of the delights of Norfolk and The Old Bakery.
We're delighted to have achieved "phase 2" of The Old Bakery restoration within a year of moving in and we couldn't have done it without you.
SO, to all of those that lent a hand with this mini 'Grand Design' thank you, as the tightness to the deadline demonstrates just how important (and totally invaluable) you all were in enabling us to complete the project.
Straight to the before and after photos now, there are a lot but you have the power to 'skip' so you can't complain.
Here we go..... (just in time for the deadline - we're still on BST you know!)
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Tuesday, 11 October 2011
COMING SOON TO A SCREEN NEAR YOU.....
The lodgers were due on Monday at 1pm.
Did we meet the deadline?
Did the lodgers arrive?
Was the Annex ready?
All will be revealed on Wednesday..............
Did we meet the deadline?
Did the lodgers arrive?
Was the Annex ready?
All will be revealed on Wednesday..............
TUNE IN TO FIND OUT AFTER 6PM GMT AND BE SHOCKED, STUNNED AND AMAZED.
Mike........ always knowingly oversold!
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