Bumbaleerie Mansions

Evening all.

So I've been promising you a tour of Bumbaleerie Mansions for a while now - sadly, due to the arrival of the Perfect, the Mansions are never tidy enough to get a decent picture of. So instead, here's a wee bit at a time. Here's some things you oughter know before we get started:

1) The Crib was built in 1932.
2) It has a bomb shelter in the garden, that I would've taken a picture of today but it was snowing, and I couldn't find my shoes.
3) The people who owned it before Husband and I rescued it were bonkers. They superglued light fittings to the ceiling, shelves to the wall and floor tiles to the..em, floor. Quite, quite mad.
4) I love it with my ENTIRE FACE.
5) It has three original fireplaces in it.
6) The kitchen, where I spend most of my time, used to be the kitchen, dining room and pantry, until the Bonkertons knocked through - so the kitchen is montagonous. We're spoiled if we ever have to move though because I love the kitchen the most.
7) When we came to view it, I loved it so much that I did a wee dance in the kitchen and Mr Bonkers saw me and immediately added more Scottish bucks to the price. Husband was delighted! (False).

There's more here, if that ol' list wasn't enough.

So! Here's where I am right this very now!

This is our kitchen table, which is splendid and also ginormous. It can fit twelve people around it once it's extended, here's what happened when we bought it:

Me: Husband! That table fits twelve people around it once it's extended!
Husband: It's ginormous.
Me: And SPLENDID! We can recreate Downton!
Husband: Why do you always want to recreate Downton?

In the middle of the table is my most recent purchase - Hyacinths! I planted them today, here's hoping they survive. I seem to have this think called 'Killeverything-itus' where nothing green can live in my house. I've been given so many fecking Orchids and they last about nine seconds before sadly passing on.

FUNNY STORY I'VE JUST REMEMBERED: In Dobbies today, a man standing next to me said to his wife 'Look, they've got orchards!' and she said 'Not orchards, darling, ORCHIDS' and he said 'No, they're definitely called orchards' and she said 'no, they definitely aren't' and he wasn't having ANY OF IT. I'd just pushed my sleeves up my arms ready to get stuck in and RIGHT THIS WRONG, but Husband pulled me back and said I wasn't to get involved. They're probably still at it. Very funny and pointless, which is my favourite kind of argument with Husband.

Here's a close up of the, and I think you'll agree wholeheartedly with this, EXCELLENTLY planted Hyacinths:

Next, my second-newest kitchen purchase:

CHICKEN EGG CUPS! From the 70s, so VINTAGE CHICKEN EGG CUPS! Brilliant, although they caused a slight altercation when I bought them. I said to the lady 'I must have these, they are magnificent and a wise addition to any home, including those modelled VERY CLOSELY on Downton Abbey. How much, please?' and she said '£2.50'. There was a brief pause until I yelled 'WHIT? MARVELLOUS BARGAIN!' and grabbed the lot. Turns out, they were £2.50 each. But, as I said to Husband, shouting in a sales lady's face is practically a signed contract, so you can't just change your mind like a total mind-changer. Anyway, still worth it because they are wonderful, and not 'hideously tacky' or 'a total waste of money' OR 'literally the worst things I have ever seen'.

Lastly, here's a picture of my knittingsewingcrochetjunk stash as it is now that we had to clear out my sewing room for the Perfect:

There's so many of my favourite things on this bookcase - a photo of Perfect, right at the top, when he was seconds old. My Govencroft jugs, my tangled knitting, my sewing maching, my jelly mould of Betty. Lovely, and kept so tidy! Also, some of my least favourite things - the iron, lurking sinisterly in the foreground. Husband's unfinished jumper. Some minging rip-offy wool that I was conned into buying, and is a source of everlasting regret and anguish. I won't point it out, it makes me too angry. And I've just realised that Perfect's blanket isn't even in this picture but if it WAS, if I was tidier and it WAS here, instead of on the couch in the living room, I could gracefully and beautifully link into the next picture, which is progress on the ripple blanket, but since it isn't there, I'll just have to do it in a CLUMPY WAY:

Here's how I'm getting on with the ripples! At this rate, he should have it in time for his own children.

Pip pip!

Rage, RAAAGE

Afternoon lads.

C'mere, is this the most annoying thing in the entire UNIVERSE?

That's from the same ball of wool. How annoying is that? It doesn't even match! It's supposed to be a boy's jumper, but the one on the right is CLEARLY for a lady baby! Oh, raging. Then I started the sleeve, thinking 'Oh, it'll all pull together' but NON!

L'sleeve is the same as the back! The front is an anomaly! Oh,  rage, fellas, rage like you've never seen. Husband came home for his lunch (leaving his manky shoes on my clean kitchen floor, but that's another story) and I waved it under his nose.
'Look!' I sez, 'Look at this! I've been sold a dodgy ball of wool!' Husband peered at it.
'Yes.' He said.
I paused.
'What do you mean, 'Yes'? Can you even see how it's dodgy?'
Husband sighed. 'No' he admitted.
'Well, it is. There must be someone we can phone about this MASSIVE ISSUE. Do you know how many hours I've spent on this? MANY! MANY HOURS! And look at it!'
Husband nodded mildly and took his sarnie into the living room.
'Well, let's hope it doesn't happen with YOUR JUMPER!' I yelled. 'You'll have the back of a gentleman wtith a LADY FRONT!'
 I sense he does not think it's a big a problem as I do.

But now I'm going to have to re-knit the entire front. How annoying is that? It's not even for anyone, I was just knitting for the sakes so I'm not even motivated to do the entire front again. Furious.

Anyway, to cheer myself up, I went and got my picture taken with Daniel Craig.

Oh yes! That's really him! Sort of. It's my Christmas present from my brother (Calpol) and I LOVES it! My hair is really mank in this photo, it's CLEAN! But I couldn't be bothered styling it. I can't remember if I've said this before but having curly hair is really a full time job. There should be some kind of government grant for the afflicted, in my opinion.. Here's a better photo:

Note his fetching scarf that I knitted for him. Oh Daniel. You're lovely, even if you do look A LOT like my Uncle Eric, which makes fancying you a bit awkward.

Now, the sharp-brained amongst you will remember that this is not the only life-sized cardboard cut-out that Calpol has ever bought me. NON! Here's me with Her Maj at my birthday:

Husband is really freaked out by them. He says most people don't have two cardboard cut-outs in their house, most people don't even have ONE! But I say, that's a shame for them. They should get some. They make for hilarious photo oppertunities and they are a talking point when the man comes to fit your kitchen floor three days later than he said he would.

We've done lots of work in Bumbaleerie Mansions recently lads. I think my next post will be a virtual tour of the crib....oooooooooooooooohh!

The One Where I Turn Twenty-Seven gaaaaaaahhh

It's been a long time Chinas, a long old time. I've been too busy to blog, what with turning 27 and all. The English graduate in me is desperate to turn that 27 into a twenty-seven but time is pressing on us, Old Beans, and I'm not writing twenty-seven every time, so I'll just leave it as 27.

So I woke up on the eve of my 27th birthday and was all 'oh man, this sucks. My last day as a 26 year old OR, as I pronounce it, 'nineteen'. Woe is me, for it is rubbish to be nearly 27, probably as bad as actually BEING 27.' And then to celebrate my last day as a 26 year old, I did some lovely things like not running and eating Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie and Port Salut on oatcakes with chutney and WINE and it was good.

And then I woke up on my 27th birthday and I thought 'HOW CAN I BE TWENTY-FECKING-SEVEN?! I'm still deciding what to do when I leave school! I'm still always thinking 'I'll wear shoes like THAT when I'm a grown up'! I'm still going to the shop regularly to buy pick n mixes! I hate mortgages! But the truth of it is Chinas, I'm a 27 year-old married Librarian with a mortgage and a job and everything. And I'm no longer nineteen, and I can no longer dream of being an astronaut, and I can no longer drink with wild abandon because hangovers now last about a fortnight.

But then I had a flash of inspiration. 'Why not, WHY NOT', I thought to myself  'see this as a chance to do everything you've ever wanted to do and BE everything you've ever wanted TO BE? Why not make your 28th year (gaaaaaahh) the YEAR OF OPPERCHANCITY?

So I'm going to! I've made a list of resolutions that I'm going to share with you, but FIRST! A picture of me with my present from my brother (Calpol):

OH YES LADS THAT'S ME WITH BETTY! Is that the best present anyone has ever given anyone?! Answer: yes. I love her with my whole soul and Husband HATES her, although she freaks out the cats which Husband finds very funny. I said we should bow every time we walk past her and Husband refused, and that's very disrespectful to her Maj and she'll be WELL annoyed if he ever does that in real life. He'll be in the Tower before he knows WHERE he is, and I won't visit him because I'll be having crumpets at Buck Pal.

Anyway, RESOLUTIONS:

1. START SELLING 'CRAP WHAT I'VE MADE', because I've been talking about doing it for ages but then what if nobody buys it?

2. GET GOOD AT RUNNING - I can now run my full circuit without stopping, here's a picture of me after I did it for the first time ever:

(I promise this is really me and not Usain Bolt, however similar we may look)

3. STOP READING HEAT MAGAZINE AND TRY TO STOP CARING ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS IN TOWIE - pretty self-explanatory, this one.

4. HAVE A KEBAB - never had one before and I think I would like it.

5. TRY A DEEP-FRIED MARS BAR - never had one before because I know I would love it, and eat them FOREVAH and then turn into one of those people who gets so fat that they grow into their couch.

6. WEAR ALL THE SHOES - or sell all the shoes if not worn.

7. PICK UP A MASSIVE SPIDER - maybe.

8. BE A BIT MORE SENSIBLE - I'm not really a sensible sort of person. I'm more of a 'LET'S MAKE A LOL-CANO!' than a 'Yars, well, interest rates being what they are...' and I think I should maybe try to get somewhere in the middle.

9. TAKE MY MAKE-UP OFF BEFORE BED - I know this is really jakey (JAKE - Scottish word meaning unclean, dirty person who is usually drunk and/or stoned) but I hate washing my face in the sink, and I'm not having two showers a day, and my make-up removing pads live downstairs and I can never be bothered to go down and get them and I just generally am rubbish at taking my make-up off and that's that.

10. DYE MY HAIR BLONDE - DONE! Did it last week! Not sure if I like it though.

11. TRY TO LOVE MY EYEBROWS - very unlikely, this one, but I will try.


And that's THAT!

Sunshine!

Today, Scotland has been lovely! There really is nowhere nicer to be than Scotland in the sunshine. It was so nice that I took my makey materials outside:

And I made a whole heap of stuff! I made a neck cushion, to send away for injured troops:

You can find more information on this here. I also made this flower, all by myself!

All right, FINE, my sister had to give me a step-by-step-by-back-a-step-by-back-again read through on how to do it. My sister is truly a magnificent person, although she's a bit annoying. Here is a list of things she does that are annoying:

- she grows her eyelashes really long. 

- she has lovely long, thick blonde hair and she is a very slim beautiful person, the polar opposite of me (I'm a curly brunette, who could at best be described as dumpy)

- she is good at jewellery making. Her blog can be found here, go and say hello

- she's doing FORENSIC BIOLOGY at uni, and she's very clever.

- she's an exceptionally patient person. As proved by this conversation we had recently:

Me: Teach me how to make that flower.

Her: OK. *hands me wool and a hook*. Right, first you make a slip loop...

Me: WHAT'S A SLIP LOOP?!

Her: I'll show you. *she shows me*

Me: I CAN'T DO IT! I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO DO IT! I'M RUBBISH AT EVERYTHING!!!!

Her: No! You can do it! Come on!!

Me: *suddenly motivated because she's so good at motivating folk* Ok-doke, maybe I CAN do it!

Her: Right. Right, you're doing really well . It's just...you're not really making a loop....but it still looks nice, what you're doing!

Me: *throwing the whole lot across the room* This is RUBBISH! I HATE THIS!

Her: No, it's fine, I'll start it for you...

Me: I DON'T EVEN WANT TO LEARN IT ANYMORE! DON'T SPEAK TO ME!

(I should point out that she recently turned twenty, and I'm six and a half years older than her but I'll leave the maths to you. In my defense, I'm only thirteen in my head.)

Anyway, after a lot of gentle guidance (her) and stomping about (me), I finally learned! Or rather, she finally taught me! She's wonderful, even if she does smell.

Right, parcels! Oh, so many lovely parcels! First, fabric for myfriendsnephewsquilt, which I love very much. It's a combination of cloud9 and Michael Miller, which is the best combination in the world if you ask me:

although after a lot of deliberation, I decided not to use the starry one. Instead I ordered more red and I am happy with the way it's all coming together. I got a very, very exciting other package too:

tied up with string and everything! And inside it was:

Her Maj!! Well, a jelly mold of her head, for the Jubilee. Isn't it WONDERFUL? Husband was so thrilled* by this, he had to lie down for several minutes** before coming downstairs to shake my hand*** and thank me profusely**** for introducing such a magnificent item into our house******

* frightened
** run upstairs to check the joint account, to see how much I'd paid
*** yell 'you paid TEN SCOTTISH YEN FOR THIS?!'
**** shake his head in disbelief
***** 'bringing even more junk in here' sez he, which I found a tad unkind. Luckily, I was too busy pretending to be Betty the Second to pay attention to him properly.

And that's this week! Whatever will arrive in the post next week...?

The one in which I hate the post office.

Over the last few days I have been waiting on some very exciting packages to be delivered. One, ordered on Monday, arrived at work on Thursday. One, ordered on Tuesday, was delivered on Friday. One, ordered on Tuesday, came this morning. Two, ordered on Tuesday, have not arrived. One, also ordered on Tuesday, was not delivered by our postman this morning, because 'it is too big to fit through the letter box.'

Now.

I have a few issues with this. The package is relatively large because it contains enough fabric and wadding to make my friendsnephewsquilt. But it is only fabric and wadding, which, as I'm sure you're aware, is bendy and not heavy. Part of me finds it really hard to believe that the postman carried it ALL THE WAY to Bumbaleerie Mansions, tried to no avail to squeeze it through the letter box, and then valiantly carried it ALL THE WAY BACK to 'My Local Sorting Office'. Also, Husband and I were in the crib when the post came - would the Brave Knight Sir Postman not have just left it in the garden for us? Ah-ha, I thought to myself, he hasn't even bothered lifting it! So, I phoned MLSO and here's how I got on:

MLSO: Hello, ________ Post Office
Me: Hello, could you tell me if there's a package waiting for me?
MLSO: *suddenly inexplicably angry* NAME?!!.
Me: Em... Baroness Pilkington-Smythe the first
MLSO: WHEN was it DROPPED OFF?!!?
Me: Probably this morning, I got a red slip through the...
MLSO: Well, if it was THIS MORNING that you got THE SLIP then it WON'T BE HERE YET, WILL IT?
Me: I dunno, I thought I would check. I'll phone before you close to check again. Thanks for your....
MLSO: *sound of the dial tone as they have already hung up*

Me, to Husband: The post office have STOLEN from me! I am the victim of a CRIME! Phone someone!
Husband: I'll collect it on Monday.
Me: That's NOT THE POINT! They are the ROYAL MAIL! Do you think the QUEEN KNOWS ABOUT THIS?!
Husband: Em, well, she knows about the post office probably.....
Me: Someone should TELL HER! I bet SHE wouldn't stand for this!
Husband: Well, they close at 12.30 so phone again at 12 and maybe it'll've been dropped off.

At 12.05:

MLSO: Thank you for phoning _________ Robber Mail Post Office. Our opening hours are, Monday: 3.01 - 3.06, Tuesday : Closed,  Wednesday: 4.18.00-4.18.31, Thursday -
Me: They've gone home EARLY! My package is sitting abandoned and they won't give it to me! They have left it alone! I need it! They've stolen it!
Husband: *has given up trying to rationalise with me and is outside painting the shed*
Me: ...and they PROBABLY take the stamps home too, and they PROBABLY are having a good laugh at the people they have ROBBED, AND they'll have a lovely weekend doing things THEY like and I've got to WORK with NO SEWING to do! One day I will OWN My Local Sorting Office and THEN THEY'LL BE SORRY! They'll be SORRY when I'm in charge of the Post Office and I CLOSE IT DOWN!

I am still furious. I hate the post office.