tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57868032011-04-22T01:59:50.702+01:00Dear WithoLike "Blue Peter", with soul. Oh, and the occasional swear word...withonoreply@blogger.comBlogger4441100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1116835954692684322005-05-23T09:12:00.000+01:002005-05-23T09:13:46.886+01:00Obsessed... withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1116585722978614802005-05-20T11:21:00.000+01:002005-05-20T11:42:02.986+01:00A moment of ZenI've only just read Wednesday's pearl of wisdom from my page-a-day calendar on my desk at work:"The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces is "look under foot." You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of your power than you think. The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are. Do not despise your own place withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1116493180037112562005-05-19T09:24:00.000+01:002005-05-20T10:53:57.946+01:00Witho is... dutifulTuesday night was a dinner party at the Headmaster's house with a variety of other teachers and their spouses or friends. The Head occupies a beautiful old, double-fronted, detached house on the school grounds, overlooking the cricket field in the foreground with the Blackdown Hills visible in the distance.There was a bit of a panic beforehand about what BF was going to wear. withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1116410706562756922005-05-18T11:01:00.000+01:002005-05-18T16:17:57.736+01:00Come on you redsThere’s always that moment of nervous anticipation before the event together with that nagging doubt. You almost want to feel those pangs in the pit of your abdomen as the day approaches. Whilst you know that all appropriate steps have been taken, you still wonder how you’ll deal with it if the worst were to happen. You try not to thing about it, but it’s there, in the back of withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1116274003071766662005-05-16T21:06:00.000+01:002005-05-16T21:54:13.526+01:00Station-aryAnyone who's spent any time in Taunton will involuntarily shudder when I mention Silk Mills Road. Because anyone who's spent any time in Taunton has probably spent a fair amount of their time on that road. Stationary. It is the proverbial bane of the Tauntonian's life.It's a handy road, linking the A358 in the North to the A38 in the South of the town. I use it every day on my way to withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1116171724989805222005-05-15T16:42:00.000+01:002005-05-15T20:03:33.206+01:00Sisters are doin' it...... or should that be: "Sisters have been and gone and done it"? Witho and big sis' after the raceI'm so proud of my big sister. She ran the whole 5km - the furthest she's ever run. She'd been training on the treadmill and before yesterday had only managed 4km. She started run/walking in November and, as a busy working mum, could only manage lunchtime sessions on the withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115996328918733122005-05-13T15:52:00.000+01:002005-05-13T15:58:48.950+01:00Tomorrow...... I'll be doing this:More details here.Thanks to all those who sponsored me - I've raised over £250 thanks to you.withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115892264302479032005-05-12T09:08:00.000+01:002005-05-12T14:12:22.186+01:00Sine, cosine, tangentIf you've ever seen what a sine wave looks like, you'll have also seen how my mood progressed through the course of yesterday.Starting from the middle line, there was a progressive rise in mood as I had an uncharacteristically productive day at work. I wrote an implementation plan, and solved a long-standing problem with an AS400 application which I traced back to a cheeky withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115740178626427862005-05-10T16:38:00.000+01:002005-05-10T20:29:45.790+01:00Another string to my bowFirst things first, in the above expression, are they talking about bows (of bow and arrow fame) or bows (of stringed instrument fame)? That's what I want to know... amongst many other things, of course. *goes all wistful on mention of stringed instruments*Recently, I've been thinking of buying a 'cello and rekindling my "musicality". I haven't played one for *gulps* what withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115640240474500772005-05-09T12:10:00.000+01:002005-05-09T15:14:52.800+01:00OscillationThe Witho/BF weekends oscillate between:going away, seeing friends, doing stuff and generally being busy little worker beesstaying at home, bumbling around like bumble bees and really doing very little.This weekend was of the latter variety.We started well on Friday evening, going here to see this. I found the film very engaging, mainly because it played with your emotions, pushing andwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113482123272799972005-05-07T15:50:00.000+01:002005-05-07T20:00:00.136+01:00Re-crapHaving confused some of my newer readership with recent posts, I feel a recap of "Witho's so-called career" may be in order. And things being "in order" require an ordered list, so here goes:June 1995: Witho graduates from the University of London with a First Class degree in "French with Applied Computing" (don't laugh) and no real idea of what she's going to do other than "work in withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115308730004164852005-05-05T16:55:00.000+01:002005-05-07T15:29:01.070+01:00Bargain!*adds to basket*UpdateSpot the difference: withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115155908603961062005-05-03T21:58:00.000+01:002005-05-03T22:38:40.930+01:00Status AnxietyWhen I saw this book by Alain de Botton in WHSmith back in December I just had to buy it - it seemed to me that this phrase summed up the mindset I've developed for myself over the past few years. Now, I haven't actually read the book yet (it's on a girthy waiting list), but I won't let this be a barrier to coming up with my own interpretation of what the phrase means to me.There withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1115056976520629702005-05-02T18:44:00.000+01:002005-05-03T10:29:56.556+01:00Ippy dippy dation, my operation...... how many people at the station?Excuse my playground interlude. For some reason, earlier today as I was preparing smoothies for me and the BF (banana, apple, plum and raspberry, if you're interested), this little ditty came to me and I wanted to share it with you, my lovely, fluffy, sweet-smelling readership. It is - in case you are of the wrong generation, withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114766643971216332005-04-29T09:57:00.000+01:002005-04-29T10:24:03.973+01:00Work, schmörkI spent most of yesterday meticulously debugging a program which turned out to be working perfectly. I'm not sure what had changed between it not working on Wednesday and it working on Thursday. The wind, perhaps...I guess at least I was "working" for *most* of the day, even if it was utterly futile.They've recently reorganised the department so that I now fall under the "Customer withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114681113468378292005-04-28T10:28:00.000+01:002005-04-28T12:24:35.706+01:00A handful of songsMy work colleagues are getting to know my little foibles.As I stood in the kitchen making the tea and singing:"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie..."My colleague butted in:"You've seen my yoghurt in the fridge, haven't you"One of these.See a word, hear a word, find a song with that word in it. That's the way the Witho mind works...withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114513760960851512005-04-26T11:13:00.000+01:002005-04-26T12:14:11.943+01:00Peaks and troughsThis was the trough.This was the peak. Literally!Once again, the Sunday run put right the wrongs of the previous Wednesday. Five miles through forest tracks accompanied by the damp, fresh smell of an English wood on a Sunday morning in spring.Don't get me wrong, it wasn't easy. There were more uphill stretches than I've ever had to deal with before as we climbed several hundred withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114424301844846972005-04-25T10:46:00.000+01:002005-04-25T11:19:14.053+01:00Nocturnal confusionIt is the middle of the night. I've just turned over and am facing the Big Fella in my state of bleary-eyed half-wakefulness, glad to note that it's not yet time to get up."Are you okay, love?" he asks. He sounds terribly concerned."Yes, I'm fine... why do you ask?""I can't remember""?"Not only can he not remember why he asked me if I was okay literally seconds earlier, he has withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114251967301200922005-04-23T11:26:00.000+01:002005-04-23T11:57:54.776+01:00All the threesAbout a month ago, I drooled over one of these in a shop window in Bude: Today, as a reward for my age being divisible (with no remainder) by the numbers 3 and 11 as well as by itself and the number 1 (meaning presumably that I'm *not*, in fact, a woman in my "prime", though I was at 31 and will be again at 37...), the BF presented me with same.Once again, he managed to pick out withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114115867170293992005-04-22T09:37:00.000+01:002005-04-22T09:44:57.393+01:00First salade niçoise of the year I like the way Hello refused to acknowledge the "ç" when I uploaded the jpg, changing the filename to "Nioise". Interesting...And before you say it - no, it hasn't got anchovies on it. They're perfectly welcome to go around being strangely salty, fishy and slimy, just not on any plate of mine, thanks! It's *my* version of salade niçoise, okay?withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1114078359454630242005-04-21T10:38:00.000+01:002005-04-21T13:26:15.033+01:00Learning pointsFootball overrides kittensSpecifically: showing BF a photo of some RSPCA rescue kittens at the very moment when Gary Neville is being sent off and Manchester United are 1-0 down to Everton may not yield the expected response of: "yes, dear, those kittens look lovely, let's go and get them immediately".Running is proving to be a bit more of a struggle at the moment. It has always withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113986293803353702005-04-20T09:05:00.000+01:002005-04-20T11:09:47.116+01:00Fings what I have done which, apparently, make me BritishThings I've done in bold. My comments in red:Waited for forty minutes in the rain for a bus and then two come at once.Fought someone bodily for the last packet of butterscotch Angel Delight in the convenience store.Failed to find Last of the Summer Wine at all amusing. Or indeed, to have any point whatsoever.Danced with delight the morningwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113815017129369532005-04-18T09:12:00.000+01:002005-04-18T10:11:14.370+01:00Do as you're told!"Buy Observer"I study my mobile's display questioningly. I remember putting the reminder in there a couple of weeks ago but I'm damned if I can remember why."Buy Observer"Now, I had, a couple of weeks previously, bought a Saturday Guardian (the sister newspaper to The Observer) to read on the train to Southampton. Maybe there was something in there advertising a feature which withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113505114463650032005-04-14T19:43:00.000+01:002005-04-14T21:46:12.950+01:00Van SoloYou know how it is. You're on a roundabout - a big one with traffic lights on it. You come slowly to a halt. As you wait at the lights, your gaze wanders idly around. You sense movement in the corner of your vision. You turn and fix on the grey van to your right. A young, goatee-bearded man is in the driving seat. Nothing unusual there. Hmmmm, what's that... jiggling? What's he doing in withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113388577561805112005-04-13T11:08:00.000+01:002005-04-13T20:49:11.476+01:0024*7Trying to talk Helpdesk through AS400 screens at 9.45pm whilst in a noisy Thai restaurant with no access to said AS400 in order to figure out why some labels aren't printing in a paper mill a couple of hundred miles away is not an easy task, as I discovered last night.However, assisted ably by a finger in one ear and tightly shut eyes (trying to picture what the Helpdesk analyst could see), Iwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113231834170789232005-04-11T15:51:00.000+01:002005-04-11T16:08:59.993+01:00Can't see the wood for the trees?I had a phone call today, from the solicitors who are handling our house purchase.In our Homebuyer's report, it was mentioned that there was a tree on a neighbouring property which needed to be checked out to ensure that it wasn't likely to be interfering with the foundations of the house and was being maintained appropriately by its owner.The woman from the withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1113210458876253792005-04-11T09:53:00.000+01:002005-04-11T10:07:38.876+01:00I'm so proudType "two 'n' eight" into Google, including the quotes.What do you mean, why? Just do it.*polishes imaginary "being top of Google results list for stupid phrase" medal*In other newsTo be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest human battle ever and to never stop fighting.e e cummingswithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112900818234900722005-04-07T20:06:00.000+01:002005-04-08T09:11:36.556+01:00Witho plans her journeyOkay. I'm travelling from Taunton (Somerset) to Petersfield (Hampshire), a distance of 117.9 miles. I'll be departing on the Saturday afternoon, returning on the Sunday. Let's have a look:Hmmm, not too bad. The 15:30 means less time spent on the train, but ultimately the 13:01 gets us there earliest. Note to self: take book, mp3 player and something to eat. It's going to bewithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112878062386910422005-04-07T10:09:00.000+01:002005-04-07T17:11:53.333+01:00Cunning linguistYour friend and mine, Greavsie, has recently considered starting his own business due to general career malaise, a condition which *seems* particularly widespread these days, though I'm not sure whether it's just because I'm at an age where it has started to become an issue for me and my "peers". The syndrome seems to manifest itself as follows:Reach the age of thirty (ish)Think withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112776848591480992005-04-06T09:38:00.000+01:002005-04-06T09:40:48.593+01:00TyradeDear fellow motorists on the Southbound M5 this morningAllow me to apologise profusely for delaying you by approximately 2 seconds this morning as you were obliged, nay forced, to overtake me whilst I travelled along in the nearside lane.You see, call me old fashioned, but I tend to adjust my driving style somewhat according to the weather conditions. Yes, silly, aren’t I? It may have withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112611922546907222005-04-04T10:55:00.000+01:002005-04-04T12:14:58.306+01:00FundamentalWhy do people at work feel the need to comment on how warm their chair is when someone else has been sitting on it? I mean, what do they expect the warm-bottomed individual to say in response?"My fundament is indeed not of the cold variety""My nether regions are conspicuous by their higher-than-average temperature""I do indeed have a hot bot"My advice to the chair owner on returning towithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112274472642384852005-04-01T11:55:00.000+01:002005-04-01T14:06:04.026+01:00Oh dear, I've been tagged...Thanks BF1. What book would I like to be?Is it just me or is that is a very strange question? It makes me think of the wonderful poem "A Martian Sends a Postcard Home" where books are seen by the alien eye as animate objects: "mechanical birds with many wings".Seeing as they're not, I'm not sure how I'd feel about being acquired, "thumbed" for a couple of weeks then withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112308626228295722005-03-31T23:36:00.000+01:002005-03-31T23:37:06.230+01:00OMGThis.withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112262592107739922005-03-31T10:17:00.000+01:002005-03-31T13:38:08.863+01:00Blog AbuseI'm running the Race for Life again this year, in Bristol on 14th May. It's a 5km race for women only, aimed at raising money for Cancer Research UK.Yes, I know that 5km (just over 3 miles) for me is more like a walk in the park these days - the main reason I'm doing it, though, it is to accompany my sister who, inspired by my own foray into running 2 years ago, decided that she would withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112218412848703612005-03-30T22:33:00.000+01:002005-03-30T23:05:44.230+01:00Does my bum look big in this? withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1112088334355631192005-03-29T09:58:00.000+01:002005-03-29T10:25:34.360+01:00International weekendYou can tell it's the school holidays when:The roads are clear on the drive to workBF actually writes a post...Our weekend included products from the following countries:Mexico - "Y tu mama tambien" on Film Four. An unexpectedly moving film.China - the takeaway we had on Sunday night. Chow mein - sometimes I just can't get enough of those noodles!Syria - a selection of withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1111860345488016622005-03-26T18:05:00.000Z2005-03-26T18:48:02.803ZHoliblogThis is the first time the Big Fella and I have been away together, just the two of us, for more than a weekend. Which, when I think about it, seems ludicrous, but it’s true. We’ve spent time together at his mother’s in Manchester, at his aunt’s house in the Lake District, at various locations around the country for friends’ weddings, but never a week together, just the two of us, withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1111228342288555732005-03-19T10:29:00.000Z2005-03-19T10:32:22.290ZQuickieOff to Cornwall for a week.Taking the laptop.Might post.Might not.Laters.withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1111145431396477092005-03-18T10:54:00.000Z2005-03-18T11:30:31.400ZBooblessI found out yesterday that one of my new colleagues has a "special" name for me. "The Amazon". I certainly *hope* he's not referring to the "folk etymology" of the word, which I'm told is to do with them chopping a boob off so that they could shoot with a bow and arrow without said boob getting in the way. Maybe I'm a bit lop-sided!I'd also be intrigued if he was likening me to the third withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1111058792568845702005-03-17T09:20:00.000Z2005-03-17T11:26:32.573ZFollow-upFirstly, as you may remember from this post, I have been none too pleased with "Mozza's" and we've been largely boycotting it since it "rebranded" itself.However, last night, on my way home from my run (6 miles this time - just a short one ;)...) I had planned to pop in there to pick up some bread. It was just after 8pm. As I drove in, I noticed two things. Firstly, a handwritten label withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110880883537015362005-03-15T09:35:00.000Z2005-03-15T10:01:23.540ZSuper what?Driving to work this morning, I was checking out the car in front (as you do) - some kind of people carrier/minibus hybrid - and noticed it was called a "Bongo Friendee" (made by Mazda, as I later found out after a quick Google search).Bongo Friendee.Whilst I admire the use of "Bongo" in any phrase, I'm just not sure how they think this is a good name for a motor vehicle. Can you withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110818143662417002005-03-14T16:28:00.000Z2005-03-14T16:38:42.993ZThoughts arising......at a roundabout:"Time and Volvo wait for no man"...on hearing the following conversation on a Devon High Street:Child (to mother): We did spelling at school today, MummyMother: Oh, really?Child: Yes, we did things like: "You are, I are, he are..."Witho (thinks): Hmmm, so that's how they teach English in the West Country. I wonder if the next one is "ooo-arrr"...withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110558809748403942005-03-11T16:09:00.000Z2005-03-11T16:42:58.166ZRNDFor the benefit of my non-British or non-resident British readers, it's Red Nose Day today in Great Britain. My favourite Red Nose Day was the one back in the early 90s when people put big red noses on their cars, between the headlamps. The noses remained in place for months (in some cases, even years) afterwards, slowly fading to a pinkish colour. I remember when I went to France being withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110534379317679582005-03-11T09:18:00.000Z2005-03-11T09:46:19.320ZLet's rock!Okay, so who allowed me to buy a bag of Haribo Liquorice Cream Rock? Eh? Who allowed me to put them in my top drawer, within easy reach, for discreet yet constant daytime nibbling? Eh? What were they thinking of?I should be chaperoned in shops which sell the full range of Haribo sweets... although I didn't see any "Build a burger" (more's the pity)...***They never did phone me back, withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110366815810944092005-03-09T10:52:00.000Z2005-03-09T11:13:35.813ZParasites and JobsworthsOperator: [typical double-surname-based solicitors firm name], good morningWitho: Hello, could you put me through to the conveyancing department please?Operator: What's the reference?Witho: It's Miss Witho concerning the purchase of [address of proposed new Witho mansions] *thinks: "this should be enough information for them"*Operator: Is there a reference?Witho: Um, I'm withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110280445030380402005-03-08T11:01:00.000Z2005-03-09T09:53:28.503ZiRateDear iPodI understood that we had a reciprocal arrangement.I provide you with a regular power supply, a means of amplification and a variety of compressed digital music files.You provide me with music.I am not sure why you chose to break this agreement, abruptly, at approximately 1800 hours (GMT) on Monday 7 March 2005 at the junction of the A38 and A358 just outside Taunton.I am bewildered withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1110128300145305162005-03-06T16:37:00.000Z2005-03-06T16:59:05.140ZThirteen point one miles......is how I chose to commemorate the (almost, but not quite) end of 2 nicotine-free years in the life of Witho. Yep, March 7th 2003 was the day of my last ciggie. Smoked on platform 4 of Southampton Central station as I awaited my train to Bristol, where I was meeting my sister who would convey me to our holiday cottage in the Forest of Dean. I was taking the train withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109930094692560372005-03-04T09:01:00.000Z2005-03-04T09:54:54.693ZMobilityDuring my relatively stress-free daily jaunts up and down the rather sedate M5 (remember, I "grew up" on the M25...) I've noticed a proliferation of "mobile homes" making their way presumably to or from caravan parks in the West Country. When I say "mobile homes", I'm not talking about those winnebago type things. I'm talking about a "home" so "mobile" that it requires a large articulatedwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109755108673679572005-03-02T09:09:00.000Z2005-03-02T09:20:21.706ZThoughts arising on a train journeyWhere?The 17:32 from Reading to Plymouth. Calling at Newbury, Taunton, Tiverton Parkway, Exeter St Davids etc … (after that, I stopped listening really. Evidently, the guy opposite me wasn’t listening at all. He’s just found out from the guard that the train doesn’t stop at Westbury and is none too pleased. He'll have over an hour to wait for the next train backwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109587462140309452005-02-28T10:06:00.000Z2005-02-28T10:44:22.143ZNocturnal emissions...... though not the kind you were thinking of, I suspect.I awake the other night in one of my usual bewildered states, thinking: "Wha...?". The Big Fella, beside me, suddenly starts speaking, clearly and eloquently, projecting his voice across the room:"I would do so, but forty minutes with any attempt at innuendo would clearly make it very unwise!"."Wha...?" I think, again. withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109334376504937702005-02-25T12:08:00.000Z2005-02-25T12:28:48.886ZWitho is...... the seven dwarves, all rolled into one!Dopey: Yesterday's lunchtime shopping trip proves this beyond all doubt. I went out to get another £5 microfleece from Tesco "Home 'n' Wear" (yes, that's what they call it round these 'ere parts!) as I was very pleased with the other one. La Witho loves to snuggle. I actually came back with hair dye, deodorant, cotton buds, Woolworth's pick 'nwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109327153050658572005-02-25T10:18:00.000Z2005-02-25T10:25:53.050ZPod-u-likeYes, I know, it's *so* last year to post about one's iPod, but I'm having a bit of an issue with mine at the moment. My main use of it is in the car. I connect it to my car stereo (in the old fashioned way, via one of those things which looks like a cassette) and schlap it on "shuffle" so that I can be treated to "Witho FM" - like a radio station, only without the annoying DJs, adverts,withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109199330334893442005-02-23T22:48:00.000Z2005-02-24T15:45:59.063ZThe precarity precariousness (I can't spell either, apparently!) continues...A telephone conversationWitho: Hello?Unidentified person: Hello, is that Witho?Witho: YepUnidentified person: Hello, this is [insert name] from the Teacher Training information line. I just wanted to catch up with you, I spoke to you some months ago when you were thinking about training to become a teacher and wondered withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1109024126744837602005-02-21T22:14:00.000Z2005-02-21T22:16:03.730ZPrecariousI feel "precarious". The slightest thing could set me off. Leave me alone with my thoughts and I will cry. Like I did at lunchtime as I drove into town.I can't seem to work out exactly what it is that's bothering me, apart from the broad category of "work".What has happened to me? Why can't I just get on with it, like so many millions of people do? Why can't I just *do* it?withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1108747627476632542005-02-20T22:30:00.000Z2005-02-20T22:51:07.136ZPonderingsAll human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.James Thurber According to this philosophy, Witho is still "work in progress", but we already knew that.Blogger ate the post that I'd drafted on Friday and I haven't had time over the weekend to "regurgitate" it. I've a busy week ahead (a two-day trip to a paper mill with work) but I know I withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1108633929363703222005-02-17T09:46:00.000Z2005-02-17T09:52:09.366ZYou know you've got a good 'un when......on a cold night, he goes up to bed before you while you're finishing your blog post and gets in on your side of the bed so that when you finally clamber under the duvet, it's already warm... My own, personal hot water bottle!withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1108394643831221762005-02-15T23:10:00.000Z2005-02-15T23:16:15.563ZMore reasons...Safeway in Taunton is no more. Last week, it spent some time having yellow and black make-up applied to re-open as Morrison's.On Friday evening on my way home from work, I popped in for the first time to check out its new livery and get some "viennoiserie" in preparation for our weekend visitor, S.[tangent]Viennoiserie, I believe (and I'm sure someone will correct me if I'm wrong),withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1108373321256228502005-02-14T09:27:00.000Z2005-02-14T09:28:41.256ZMonday thoughtsGetting up was very hard this morning. This may have been due to the fact that my legs don’t work properly because I ran 11 miles yesterday in a variety of weathers, including rain, strong wind, a flurry of snow (one flake of which landed in my eye) and bright sunshine.Equally, this may have been due to the fact that BF is on half term and I’m “jealous” of his ability to stay in withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1108117751668235812005-02-11T10:23:00.000Z2005-02-11T10:34:02.953ZSong associationWitho has a colleague named Leon (pronounced in the French style, even though there is no acute accent - i.e. sounds like "lay-on")...Witho sits at her desk singing "Dosed" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, not knowing whywithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1107985013307918652005-02-09T21:36:00.000Z2005-02-09T22:06:08.563ZAh well...
... but it's not forever! Honest...
(Click on the pic to enlarge if you haven't got superfly-eyes!)
For the uninitiated, click here
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1107784974013831732005-02-07T13:50:00.000Z2005-02-07T14:02:54.013ZRoad rage
Dear Somerset County Council
Forgive me. When I saw the signs which said "[insert road name] closed", I assumed this meant that [insert road name] was closed and decided to take an alternative route, adding a considerable amount of time to my journey to work. You see, I didn't realise that the "[insert road name] closed" only applied at night - silly old me, eh? Mainly because it withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1107624457547161442005-02-05T17:27:00.000Z2005-02-05T17:31:42.086ZOne question:
Why?
I am struggling to imagine a scenario where I would think to myself: "Hmmm, I'd *really* like a coffee/occasional table which looks like a small hippo who has successfully put his head through an oval of sheet glass without breaking it"
Spotted in what can only be described as an "emporium" near to where I work...
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1107466880825908622005-02-03T21:41:00.000Z2005-02-03T21:54:01.046ZCharmed, I'm sure...
One of my Christmas presents from my brother (though, knowing him, I'm sure he had no input either into the choosing, purchasing or wrapping of the item - that's what my sister-in-law is there for. I remember the first time I got a "girlie" birthday present from my brother - it was when he started going out with [insert sister-in-law's name]... I was lucky if I got a Texan withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1107206637403886022005-01-31T19:57:00.000Z2005-01-31T21:46:37.600ZAnother eventful few days TeatDuring the latter part of last week, I met my new nephew. He didn't do much, just slept lots, went "elaaaa... elaaaa... elaaaa" from time to time and had a rubber-based (rather than flesh-based) teat inserted into his mouth which seemed to appease him for a time. What was encouraging was that he appears to have proper "Witho" dark hair, rather than the platinum blondwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106995592515080552005-01-29T10:27:00.000Z2005-01-29T10:50:48.943ZIf it ain't broke...
If you look at my sidebar, just above the photo of me and the Big Fella, there is a strange graphic. This is supposed to be the last image sent to my moblog. In truth, it *is* the last image which was (inadvertently) sent to my moblog.
"Witho, why would you send a strange graphic to your moblog? Is this some feeble attempt at being "arty" or something?"
No, reader, no. withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106817904694123042005-01-27T09:12:00.000Z2005-01-27T09:25:04.693ZThis is the news
Wet carpet under washing machine leaves Witho in a lather
Whilst traipsing around barefoot in the utility room, Witho noted that the flooring was damp immediately in front of the washing machine. She performed diagnostic tests by pulling the machine out, filling and draining the machine to see if the hoses were leaking. They weren't. "I can only assume the water is coming from withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106751548683313782005-01-26T14:43:00.000Z2005-01-26T16:00:03.673ZThis week's headlines
Wet carpet under washing machine leaves Witho in a lather.
Witho's wrath in insurance company "fault claim" row.
[insert old company name] in Witho reference "sham".
This was supposed to be a week off!
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106582793021783542005-01-24T16:06:00.001Z2005-01-24T16:34:00.846ZThings to make you go "Ooo!"
My nephew:
Now, I usually make a rule not to post pictures of my family without their permission. The thing is, no-one's going to think "Hang on, I know that little guy. I saw him walking down the street the other day!" or "He works in the same office as me". He's a baby - he looks like many other babies and will do for some time to come (though I'm sure his withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106305584087202352005-01-21T09:00:00.000Z2005-01-21T11:06:24.086ZMy last day at [insert organisation name]
Walking into work this morning on my last day, I didn't see the usual suspects.
I didn't see the cyclist with the eighties "Lady Di" hairstyle labouring up what appears only to be a small incline on "G" street.
I didn't see the mother and daughter "combo" as I turned into the main road; the sullen teenager lurking several deliberate paces behind her withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106216024148611662005-01-20T10:10:00.000Z2005-01-20T10:19:25.566ZIn with the new
In the space of one week, I have acquired:
One new job
One new car
One new nephew
Hmmm, maybe I should get some new clothes... Just to keep the pattern going, you understand!
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1106064309325200792005-01-18T15:43:00.000Z2005-01-18T19:06:17.576ZYou've got mail
I naïvely thought that the operation of an internal mail envelope was quite simple. Both sides of the envelope are divided into boxes of equal size, each one capable of containing a name, department and location. Scribble out the last used box and fill in the next, so I thought. However, having worked here at the NHS for a few months, it appears that the process is considerably withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105822841019089472005-01-15T21:00:00.000Z2005-01-15T21:06:59.326ZVirgin on the ridiculous
This is a train A Virgin Train Yes, it is in service No, we didn't just get on an empty train bound for the depot Yes, that character peering over the seat in the style of those eighties "chads" is the Big Fella, probably thinking to himself "Wot, no overcrowding?"... Yes, we were the only passengers in that carriage for the length of the journey No, I can't quite withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105641090340521792005-01-13T18:28:00.000Z2005-01-13T19:08:57.230ZWell...
... I guess I'd better buy a car then...
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105619584693159222005-01-13T11:52:00.000Z2005-01-13T12:36:32.196ZFruity
The best way for me to eat fruit is to put it on my desk at work and graze on it during the day. I usually bring in enough to keep me going all week long. At the moment, I have 3 bananas, 5 clementines, 1 apple and a bunch of grapes. I will probably have consumed most of this by the end of the week. (Except I forgot about that I had yesterday off for the interview, so there will probably withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105521957413695892005-01-12T09:25:00.000Z2005-01-12T09:28:19.243ZAnother hire car...
... another interviewwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105434623695185282005-01-11T08:47:00.000Z2005-01-11T11:04:04.213ZHmmmm, interesting...
I received the details for my second interview which is happening on Wednesday, including a timetable which mentioned the other three candidates' names. One of whom used to work on a contract basis at [insert company name]. For me. Well, in the sense that he was a programmer on a project where I was lead designer.
The other candidates are all men.
Those are the facts. withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105351748956532292005-01-10T08:45:00.000Z2005-01-10T10:09:08.956ZWitho - the 12" megamix
Colleague's comment regarding the new permanent secretary who has just been recruited:
"Well, I hope she can make tea"
Witho: *speechless*
Whilst searching for a document in the filing "system" (such as it is), I come across a series of documents entitled "Ac hod meetings". Now, I know what a hod is, but I'm not sure about the "Ac" bit - Athletics Club? What this has to withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105043545855135232005-01-06T20:16:00.000Z2005-01-06T21:23:18.216ZThoughts arising...
... from watching Kerrang:
Metallica's "One" video disturbs me. That patient with the mask obscuring his face - my imagination works overtime wondering what's going on under that mask. The thought of it sends shivers down my spine. Apparently the footage comes from this film. Not a film I could comfortably sit through, methinks...QOTSA's "No one knows" reminds me of the withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1105010672888614632005-01-06T11:09:00.000Z2005-01-06T11:24:49.833ZShake it all about!
One of my fascinating tasks at work is filling in the board to say who is in and out of the office. This involves writing either "IN" or "OUT" on a whiteboard depending on whether the person is in or out. Do you follow? I know, it's complicated stuff.
Hence, or otherwise, I found myself singing "Okey Cokey" for most of this morning in a gruff, cockney accented voice.
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1104870517400927602005-01-04T19:56:00.000Z2005-01-04T20:28:37.400ZJack of all trades...
... master of none
That's me.
I turn my hand to a lot of different things and only ever achieve mediocrity. Oh, I'm not talking about work here, although there is an element of that too. I'm talking about the little things I'd like to be really good at. Playing the guitar, writing, cooking, running, playing tennis, drawing, painting, being sociable, being clever. withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1104684567628815452005-01-02T16:49:00.000Z2005-01-02T17:02:16.863ZWitho - The Early Works
Despite the fact that I've lived here for 5 months, I still have some boxes of indescribable miscellany which have yet to be "filed away" from their means of transportation, one item of which is replicated below for your delectation.
Written in the late 70s (at a guess), I like to think of it as an early blog post. It's probably about as interesting as anything else on withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1104530106500551842004-12-31T21:37:00.000Z2004-12-31T21:55:06.500Z2004
I moved houseI moved in with someone after *cough* years of living aloneI sold my first property and made a lot of money I discovered that I was too old to start commuting into the City (of London) again I resigned, for a second and final time, from [insert company name] I met some other bloggers I went to one funeral I went to three weddings I moved house. Again. I had my very first car withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1104359704247494422004-12-29T22:30:00.000Z2004-12-29T22:35:04.246ZChristmas Digest*
We arrived back in Taunton today after a Mancunian Yuletide week which was thoroughly enjoyable, relaxing and chilled. Well, apart from the last minute "folly dash" round the Trafford Centre to get presents for the out-laws. This was deliberate - I knew that I wouldn’t be able to carry everything on the plane, so decided to buy their presents up there. Luckily, it was a withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1104259984657186372004-12-28T18:53:00.000Z2004-12-28T18:57:06.076ZSeen today at Woolworth's
Wh-wh-wha? withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1103910856479800702004-12-24T17:54:00.000Z2004-12-24T17:54:16.480Zwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1103745994779115812004-12-21T13:30:00.000Z2004-12-22T20:11:35.876ZPlanes, trains and automobiles
Now that I’ve got over the excitement of my Blackhorse Road t-shirt, it’s time to get psyched up all over again for Christmas Part Two which will be spent in Manchester with the out-laws (like in-laws, but not legally binding). I’m currently at Bristol International Airport, although I won’t be taking advantage of the “international” feature today, only its withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1103488351834962092004-12-19T20:32:00.000Z2004-12-19T22:04:08.190ZChildhood mammaries
One t-shirt. Myriad memories.
Blackhorse Road - tube station of my youth. Those of you who know exactly where I was brought up (i.e. no-one who reads this) will know that, as the crow flies, this station was not the closest to our home. Walthamstow Central had this dubious pleasure. The problem was, the crow (where "crow" = "any useful buses") did not "fly" from anywhere withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1103293756909766412004-12-17T13:45:00.000Z2004-12-17T14:47:02.353ZI'm dreaming of a "Witho" Christmas
It's my last afternoon of work before the Christmas holidays. Due to the terrible feelings of jealously I suffer as a result of living with a teacher, I have elected to take as many days of holiday as he has. Well, almost - his last day was Wednesday.
The good thing about temping is: if I don't work, I don't get paid, so I can take time off and no-one can withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1103122444627350692004-12-15T13:15:00.000Z2004-12-15T14:56:06.720ZInterview issues
In early 1998, I went for my second interview with [insert company name] for their IT department's Graduate Development Programme. I had already passed the assessment day where we did a series of aptitute tests and team games.
I didn't know Southampton very well, and found myself in the car park of a retail development, just to the rear of [insert company name]'s imposing withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1103024616634671542004-12-14T11:43:00.000Z2004-12-14T11:43:36.633ZHave hire car. Will travel to interview this afternoon. withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102946549743832922004-12-13T13:58:00.000Z2004-12-13T14:02:29.743ZYes, sir!
Text message received from BF on Friday:
"Could you come and see me at the end of period 7 so that we can talk about the work you missed this morning?"
Erm, yes sir, sorry sir, the dog ate it!
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102674444140738992004-12-10T09:33:00.000Z2004-12-10T10:27:24.140ZUnemployable
4 interviews, 4 rejections. Summary:
Environmental Assistant in Waste Management - no specific reason given, but my face when they told me the salary may have tipped the balance...Office Manager for Educational Organisation - not enough experience of organising conferences.Senior Executive Support Officer in a Local Government organisation - lack of experience of line management (withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102594635881139772004-12-09T13:00:00.000Z2004-12-09T12:17:15.880ZIsn't it always the way?
Just because I see an example of bad spelling on a huge, professionally produced poster in the shop window at New Look, my camera phone decides to conk out.
Well, this is unlikely have the same impact, but for what it's worth, it said, in large lettering:
"TWINKLE TWINKLE
YOUR THE STAR"
I'm now trying to find an email address for their advertising department - or, inwithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102433971364219492004-12-07T14:08:00.000Z2004-12-08T08:42:07.746ZThe trappings of youth...
Sometimes I wonder whether I should act my age. The other day, I saw a girl in school uniform (probably around 15 years old) wearing pink flame trainers exactly like mine (as depicted in Kev's pic on the left there). And then there are the clip-on hair streaks (target market - the under 10s) and "Cat bag" (or similar childish "can't fit anything in it but it's kinda withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102332859964068902004-12-06T11:33:00.000Z2004-12-06T11:34:19.963ZMoonchild
You Are From the Moon
You can vibe with the steady rhythms of the Moon.
You're in touch with your emotions and intuition.
You possess a great, unmatched imagination - and an infinite memory.
Ultra-sensitive, you feel at home anywhere (or with anyone).
A total healer, you light the way in the dark for many.
What Planet Are You From?
withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102164761861808912004-12-04T13:52:00.000Z2004-12-04T13:11:38.920ZHmmmmm....
...I think it's probably time to do the recycling.withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1102070784129135792004-12-03T09:29:00.000Z2004-12-03T13:11:38.890ZThe petty concerns of the office worker
I leave them to it for one day, come in and find that both of my pink pens have disappeared. A quick scoot into boss's office recovers the "Vesicare" one (I have matching post-it notes too) but the "Pepto Bismol" one was still AWOL. It turns out that colleague K had been taking messages on my phone and had "accidentally" picked it up and taken it back to withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1101817195338464342004-11-30T11:38:00.000Z2004-11-30T12:19:55.336ZThe cat was sat on the mat
What is wrong with the above phrase? To most people, I expect, the answer would be a resounding: "nothing", but to me, it sounds wrong. Sometimes I wonder if I'm completely bonkers, but I'm sure that it *should* be: "the cat was sitting on the mat". I would *always* use this construction.
A few years ago, if I heard someone saying "I was sat..." (or, similarly, "I waswithonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1101726162464535852004-11-29T10:40:00.000Z2004-11-29T11:02:42.463ZSellout
I've sold out.
For the first time since I've been down here, I've seen a job that I'm not overqualified for, that pays a good salary and that would be interesting.
IT Business Analyst for a company which uses AS400s/iSeries.
It's the bit of my old job that I actually found reasonably rewarding (though obviously not in the sense that it was actually worthwhile in any social/community/withonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5786803.post-1101462138833908142004-11-26T09:07:00.000Z2004-11-26T09:42:18.833ZWhat is a Senior Executive Support Officer?
Is it:
a) An officer who supports senior executives
b) A senior officer who supports executives
c) Someone who officiates over senior executive support
d) An elaborate name for a secretary/dogsbody in the public sector
I'm not sure myself, but I'm going to an interview next Thursday to see if someone else thinks I can be one...
Cillit Bang
The withonoreply@blogger.com