Friday, 10 July 2009

The One With The House Fire....

Ha! You have to love the timing. I started this blog to document the trivial minutiae of life that gets in the way of the good stuff and then I only went and had a Dramatic Event!
As you have gathered from the title (because you have the smarts), my house caught fire. Well I say house, my lounge got the brunt of it and the fantasticness of the fire brigade meant the rest is fairly ok apart from being a lot blacker and smellier than before.
The day started off as any other - being rudely awakened by the cats and birds fighting in the big tree at the bottom of the garden. And so began another day of getting up, getting washed and dressed, bundling The Daughter off to nursery and heading off to work.
Except while The Daughter was busy watching CBeebies while I was in the shower, the random socket that I didn't use decided to spark and start a fire.
Holy Crap.
The Daughter quite sensibly ran to the bathroom but didn't tell me what was happening, oonly crying the cry she does when she knows she's done something naughty. So I blithely finished my shower and got out to go and start her breakfast.
Except the kitchen was full of smoke. As was the dining room. As was the lounge but with the added extra of Actual Big Flames.
Crank up to OH MY GOD! HOLY FREAKING SHIT! level.
What happened next was a bit of a blur but I managed to wake The Hairy Drummer and get us all out the back door. By this time, I'm pretty sure I was screaming as the neighbours two doors down had run out to their garden and phoned the fire brigade.
It was then The Hairy Drummer realised I was actual nekkid. Oh dear. Thankfully my modesty was preserved by a random blanket that's been in the garden for ages and isn't the nicest thing ever but you take what you can get at times like these.
So, in a blur of fire engines and the windows blowing out from the heat (and possibly the explosions of my hairsprays...), my house suddenly became uninhabitable. Whatever had been in the lounge was gone and everything else coated in the pungent stench of smoke and soot.
It's times like these that you get all zen and understand that everything can be replaced. That the most important thing is that we all got out safe. That firemen will look at you strangely when you're finally allowed back in and run to find your favourite pair of shoes and cry when you discover they're safe. That vintage snare drums are apparently indestructible. That cats will come back to find you after they've got the hell out first. That your neighbours are kinder than you could ever think. That skanky local reporters will try to sensationalise nothing until they realise they're dealing with a fellow trained journalist. That you can be the most organised you've ever been simply because you have to.
So there we have it. A hella lot of drama for one day which will provide a bit of an inconvenience for the next few months but will also settle into the banal normality that is everyday life.
Blogging about nothing doesn't get any more dramatic than this!

Wednesday, 8 July 2009

The One Where I Tell You Who Everyone Is

So there's some fairly important people that I have in my life. And then just people. If you believed Facebook to be representative, then there is 215 people. Obviously, this is a mistruth. The following are the ones who will be most involved over the coming days, weeks, months, infinity.

The Daughter
Unsurprisingly, she is the most important one. The Daughter is 4 years old and is about to start school in September. She likes pirates and ninjas but pirates most of all at the moment and is not averse to dressing like a pirate princess. She is very funny, very clumsy and possibly too cute.

The Hairy Drummer
He is hairy and a drummer and also has the pleasure of being my boyfriend. I hate that word - boyfriend - but that is him. He's sarcastic and grumpy and all kinds of wonderful.
The Archeologist
This is The Daughter's father. He's a super fantastic father. He likes old things and vinyl. We are just polar opposites in terms of being together which is why we're not.
Ma Mere
Ah, my mother. She's generally a small ball of activity and will NEVER let me read Style before she has. I do grow more like her everyday which is possibly worrying for all involved.
The Tanquery Grump
The Tanquery Grump runs the pub where I work a few evenings a week. He hates customers but loves gin. And The Cult. Dear god, does he love The Cult....
The Twitteratti
That's a ridiculous term isn't it but it fits. If I ever have to mention someone off of that there Twitter then I will do so by their Twitter nom de plume. Chances are you know most of them anyway or you are one.
The Ninja And The Bass Viking
The other componants to The Hairy Drummer's band. They're actually not all that bad despite their ridiculous name.
There'll be others no doubt but they'll be introduced as and when.

What? She's Doing ANOTHER Blog?!?

As you may (or may not!) know, I'm known for hanging around the internets over at Never Enough Shoes. And you may (or may not!) know that lately I've been a bit MIA. No, not making paper planes but simply being bogged down in the detritus of Actual Real Life.

Le sigh.

So, because I obviously have too much to do, I've decided to give myself yet another blog. Only this one is a bit more personal - slightly less shoes but more about the general insanity that comes from being stuck in the weirdness that is Getting On With Day To Day Living.

There's going to be regular people I'll be talking about who I'll introduce in another post. They range from the most important people in my life to the ones who annoy me to the ones who make me laugh.

I'm also potentially embarking on some exciting quests this year which writing about will make all the more fun and exciting.

Stick with me if you can be bothered. If you do, I might bake you some cakes!

NES xxx