no scrapping to be seen

After many weeks of apportioning blame and flinging accusations of idleness at each other, we have finally gotten around to decorating Oliver's room.

The red is the current colour, we have had to paint the walls with 2 coats of fungicide, scrape and sand the rough bits and then do 2 coats of PVA. Now it can be painted. I really do feel as if I know this room like the back of my hand.

I have another pigeon refugee - this is Chloe, Rogers sibling. Chloe can actually feed and water herself, but their mother hasn't returned from her training flight from Exmouth, so Chloe needs caring for until she is a bit bigger. She spends her day coiled like a spring in her box, waiting for me to put my hand in so she can peck me and give me a severe flapping. Nice. Mark thinks Roger has some pigeon disease (ends in -osis) which affects his nerves and could go on for many weeks. We nearly got Tom (pigeon buddy) around yesterday to wring his neck, but I had the final say on the death sentence and I wimped out. He is definately not on top of things - he falls over alot and looks pretty pathetic but it is the patheticness which makes him so loveable. If I thought he was in pain, I would get him done over straightaway, so hold your barrage of abuse you animal lovers out there...

And finally.... Oliver has just come in with this bunny in his 3D glasses, speaking like Michael Caine and saying 'well, the encyclopedia book was invented in 1977...' which made me fall about laughing. What goes through their little minds.....

Roger and ramblings

Meet Roger:


Mark brought this scrawny little babe in from the Pigeon loft Tuesday morning with a torn underwing. He made me feel very motherly, so I have hand-fed and watered him, and called him Roger. He repays my kindness by chirping endlessly through all the good bits on telly and shitting on my carpet.

My sis-in law came around yesterday for a cup of tea and a go at me for not blogging more often. In fact, I do believe that if I had blogged lately, she wouldn't have bothered to pay me a visit at all ha ha. Here's the thing: I love the whole concept of blogging, and I love a bit of blog-hopping as much as the next cyber-gal, but it does kind of kill the art of spontaneous conversation as you end up repeating yourself and not even managing to be as interesting as your own cyber-self. . . .

My friend informs me that there are plans afoot to add a lift to Haytor to enable access to disabled people. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) She is convinced this is true, and is (pretty justifiably I think) outraged at this. Whilst I fully appreciate the need to make 'life' as reasonably accessible as possible to the disabled population, does this type of thing qualify as 'reasonable' access? Methinks not - since Haytor is a geographical monument which has been there for millions(?) of years and therefore cannot be likened to adding a slope to the local greengrocers for disabled entry!!

I think this country is heading towards mindless positive discrimination. Worse, in my mind than your common or garden discrimination, since there is a big helping of hypocrisy in there too.

During her ranting and raving, my friend, who shall remain nameless to protect anonymity, said - and I quote - 'why don't disabled people just realise that life has handed them the shitty end of the stick and just get on with it.' Whilst I saw where that fitted in to her argument, I couldn't help staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment that she'd said it out loud. So callous.

Well, that will do for now. Better try and pull a decent meal out of the ether for Mark tonight, since last night I handed him a tin of beans and a bag of frozen chips before buggering off to work all night. Tsk tsk. I fear I am failing in my wifely duties.

Finished my layout for the Indigo Mill challenge:

The challenge is to create a layout based around a conversation. This is a conversation Oliver and I have on an almost daily basis:

O: Love you.

M: Love you too.

O: Love you more.

M: No, you don't.

O: I do! I really do!

anyway, I wanted to record this particular conversation as he really believes it - he truly believes his love for me is the greatest love ever, and far surpasses mine for him. I just smile away, because I have the trump card - I am his mother, and in time, when he has children of his own (hopefully) he will feel what I feel and know I was right all along - I love him more! HA! I win.

Off to the cinema this morning, working this afternoon and out for a nosh up for nephew Jack's 18th tonight. Phew.

good giveaways

Well I gave in over the cobwebby corners and hoovered looking up. Thinking of rebelling by not bothering to hoover looking down for a few weeks...

I have nearly finished a layout for a challenge, so nothing to post there. Have been a-blog-hopping and seen two lovely bits of blog candy, this on Jacque's joie de vivre blog:

and this on Pinkpuds blog:

Bugger all chance of winning it, what with hundreds of hopefuls, but think my chances are slightly increased by actually entering, so have done so.