Sunday 26 June 2011

Death By Misadventure - Well Almost!

Dave had a near death experience last night and it was partly my fault. My favourite meal is liver and bacon, but I always pick the bits of onion out of the gravy, the onion needs to be there to flavour the gravy but there is no way that I want to eat that slimy stuff so I pick it out. I usually put the onion bits in a little plastic bag but yesterday there was an empty crisp packet at the top of the bin so I scooped the gravy covered onion into that folded it over a few times and put it in the bin. I thought no more about it and in due course I went To bed. The problem is that a when it comes to food Dave is a chap who just can't say no (a bit like Robbie really!) and old habits are hard to break, he was a stray for a long time and he still has a compulsion to rummage through the bins. It seems Dave went rummaging in the bin, found the crisp packet and in an attempt to get the bits of onion and gravy he got the crisp packet stuck on his head. Robbie came home very late from a rail tour and he found Dave sprawled on the floor in the hall almost unconscious with the crisp packet on his head. At first Robbie thought he was dead but when he removed the crisp packet and stroked him for a little while Dave revived and by the time I went down to feed him in the he was his old self again. I would have been devastated if anything had happened to him, I love that cat so much.

Friday 24 June 2011

Indulging a Passion

Robbie sends me lots of texts. Some are rants, usually these start with the word 'farce' and go on to detail the difficulties he has experienced during his journey. Some are more enthusiastic, they usually start with 'helfire' and go on to provide extremenly detailed extremely detailed information about something (usually railway related) that has pleased him. Then there are the random information texts, they always begin with 'did you know?' Other categories of text include excuses, apologies, loving texts and my absolute favourite, the sort that make you laugh out loud. 


I got one of those 'laugh out loud' texts a couple of days ago, "Just off to Marsh Barton on the bus to get my briefcase serviced :D x x" When you live with Robbie, the ability to filter out his constant chatter is an essential skill. I had probably filtered out whole conversations I vaguely remember him mentioning the word briefcase once or twice, but that is all. I laughed at the text because the way he phrased it made me think of stud farms and such like. I wondered how exactly briefcases are serviced, but I didn't remain ignorant for very long, he spent all evening telling me about it!    


Robbie likes bags of all kinds, he loves his rucksack, but briefcases are his passion and he is the proud owner of a Henry Tomkins handmade leather briefcase. He wants to keep it in tip top condition so he took it in to be serviced. He couldn't stop talking about the fantastic customer service - in fact leather bags and briefcases were his only topic of conversation all evening! 


http://www.htleather.co.uk/catalogue/briefcase/briefcase.html#lite

Thursday 16 June 2011

Another Woman?

The fact that Robbie and I do not have the same surname seems to throw people into a state of confusion especially when it comes to letters. It makes it a little more difficult to address the envelope, so most people either use only my name or they miss me out and just address the letter to Robbie. The other day the postman handed me a rather beautiful looking envelope as well as the usual run of the mill post. I put Robbie's post, including the attractive envelope on the table for him, but I couldn't help picking up the mystery envelope and examining it more closely. It was neatly addressed and the envelope seemed to be hand made from quality paper with just the right amount of decoration on it. It spoke of subtle good taste and attention to detail, the more I thought about it the more suspicious it seemed. Robbie does appreciate quality, but his tastes are quirky to say the least and he is a stranger to subtlety. I wondered if he could he possibly have another woman and if so how did he managed to fit her in to his hectic life?


I made up my mind to be close by when he opened his post and I contented myself with making a mental not of all the jobs that need to be done. It seemed only fair that if he had surplus time and energy that I should benefit from it - by the time he got home I had a very long list of chores. I watched him closely (while trying to feign disinterest) as he opened the envelope, A big grin spread across his face and then he did an excited little dance, it wasn't what I expected, surely he would have been more furtive if he was up to no good? He saw my bemused expression and explained that the card was for both of us, it contained some exciting news from one of our friends - but that is a story for another day!

Wednesday 15 June 2011

Who Are You Calling A Nerd??"

I have written before about my elderly mobile phone, it is nine year old and still going strong  - well to be totally honest it isn't exactly going strong, but it does still work. I am waiting to inherit my daughter's backberry she has just got an iphone and has kindly offered mum her old phone. Anyway my present phone works well enough to cope with a few texts every day, mostly texts from Robbie. I still get teased my texts, my son looks at me shakes his head and says "Mother, you are the only person in the world who writes a text in whole sentences with punctuation!". It seems that I can't win because Robbie moans at me for using templates and tells me to make my texts more personal, but this post is not really about my writing style, it is about Robbie's texts.


Robbie can be very persuasive especially when he wants to convince me that I want to get up before the birds on as Saturday morning and spend the whole day travelling on trains. I got one of those kind of persuasive texts from him one day last week, a subtle blend of flattery, temptation and pleading because he wanted me to play trains with him on Saturday. Te odd thing was that the final word of the text "nerd" was rather insulting and not in the 'Uriah Heep' style of the rest of the text. I responded with "Did you call me a nerd" and there was rather a long silence before I go a rather embarrassed response. Apparently he thought he was sending an emoticon, but because my phone is like me (a bit behind the times) it just named the emoticon rather than creating a winking face or whatever it was. I have warned Robbie to be careful who he sends these things to, otherwise his texts could contain unexpected insults!

Tuesday 7 June 2011

Shopping for the Cat

Robbie has his funny little ways. I have written before about him talking to the animals and even attempting to teach the cats to tell the time, but it is becoming silly now. He has taken the Dr Doolittle thing one step further, he now claims to speak for the cats! He really doesn't need to, both cats are quite capable of making their feelings very clear. When Robbie is cross with Oreo he hides under the bath (the cat not Robbie, Robbie wouldn't fit under the bath!) but Dave stands his ground and swears back and if Robbie points at him Dave raises his paw to remind Robbie that what he lacks in teeth he makes up for in claws! Dave is my cat and as far as he is concerned Robbie should know his place. He hates Robbie to sit next to me or to hug me and if Robbie is brave enough to try Dave pushes his way between us and sits there defiantly until Robbie moves away. I accept that Dave can communicate eloquently with Robbie and I understand they both have more than a passing interest in food, but this is going too far. According to Robbie, Dave prefers me to buy his cat food from Tesco (not my usual supermarket), he would prefer it to be in a foil tray rather than in a pouch and he would like more of the fish flavours and less of the meat flavours. Apparently his lack of teeth makes our usual brand of cat food a bit of an effort for him. Really? I find that hard to believe, this is the cat who can steal and eat a whole sausage, he likes nothing better than climbing into the bin to forage for treats and when we bring the shopping home he will rip open anything that takes his fancy if we take our eyes off him for a second. I suspect Dave's sudden interest in supermarket shopping has more to do with Robbie's preferences than the cat's! 

Thursday 2 June 2011

The Glass Magnet

After having a week off together last week I had very mixed feelings about Monday because Robbie was going back to work (I had an extra day because of the bank holiday). Having Robbie around 24/7 can be challenging at times and occasionally I long for a bit of peace, but I am always sad when our holidays come to an end. I wasn't best pleased about the early start either! 


Robbie is a bit annoyed with me at the moment. He knows that it is unreasonable to get cross about it but, he doesn't like his routine to be changed even in smallest changes upset him. I have bought 6 new drinking glasses without seeking his approval. I really didn't think I needed to consult him about spending the grand sum of £2, but I had forgotten how particular he is about deciding on the exact size and shape of everything in the kitchen. By his standards he did well at hiding his annoyance, but we had an hour or so of sulking and stomping before he resigned himself to accepting the new glasses.  


We wouldn't have needed new glasses at all if Robbie hadn't had such a smashing time recently. I wouldn't exactly say that he is clumsy, it is more a case of things not getting out of his way quickly enough! He has wiped out two glasses and a railway mug in just over a week. That isn't such a big deal but he is like a magnet to glass and every time something gets broken he manages to cut himself. He doesn't have as much feeling in his feet as other people so that is probably why he treads on the glass in the first place. Sometimes the first hint of injury is a trail of blood leading to Robbie, at other times he does something resembling a native American war dance with corresponding sound effects as he hops into the lounge to sit down. Either way the result is the same, me on my knees picking glass out of his foot, then on my hands and knees in the kitchen with the dustpan and brush trying to pick up every speck of glass. I wish someone would design glass proof socks, preferably multicoloured ones that would appeal to Robbie.