Baths, prunes and World Records.

After a lovely Christmas with family and extended family we are now having a weeks break in Sidmouth. We normally book to stay in rural holiday cottages but this time we are in a lovely Victorian townhouse. Billy dog loves the view from the large bay window seat where he can watch the passers by, and we are enjoying being in a town for a change.

One thing that I do always insist on in holiday accommodation is a bath tub. At home, as my flat is the size of a postage stamp, I only have room for a shower so it's always a treat to have a soak in a bath when on holiday. We have a lovely big bathroom in this holiday house at the top of the first flight of stairs, so after a walk yesterday I was looking forward to coming back for a bath. A cup of tea later I ran the hot water, added some bubbles, stripped off and climbed in.

The one problem with the bathroom here is that there is no lock on the door, this should not have been an issue as we agreed that if the door is shut then the room is in use. I lay back in the scented water, letting the bubbles engulf me and anticipated lieing there until I resembled a wrinkled prune. Bliss.

This was when I understood why there was a door wedge on the floor behind the bathroom door, not to hold the door open as I had mistakenly assumed but to keep it closed. It seemed that the hot steamy air had a lubricating affect on the door catch because as I lay back in the water the bathroom door slowly  but inexorably opened.

My next realisation was that the bathtub was in line with the glass paned front door. I had a direct view from the bath down the stairs and out the front door. With a vague sense of amusement I realised that if it had been light outside I could have lain in the bath and watched people walk by outside. A bath with a view. Unfortunately as it was dark I couldn't see out.

My third epiphany, which struck me almost at the same time as the cold draft from the front door, was the realisation that although it was too dark outside for me to see people going by, it was in fact very bright in the bathroom. Thanks to some very efficient lighting the people going by would have no problem seeing me! I sunk down below the water, not only to avoid prying eyes but to try and keep out of the Arctic breeze that was racing up the stairs towards me.

Needless to say my bath wasn't very relaxing after this as I spent most of the time trying to keep out of sight, stay warm and planning how I was going to get from the tub to the radiator, where my towel was warming, in the shortest and least exposed period of time. If there was an Olympic sport for getting out of a bathtub I feel sure that yesterday I set, not only a personal best, but a new world record.

Happy new year everyone, please bathe safely.

Christmas, yoga and anticipation.

I drafted this post yesterday whilst having my hair done. My last post therefore before Christmas comes to you live (well nearly live) from the salon.

I am writing this post whilst sitting in the hairdressers, you can probably smell the dye, coffee and hair products as you read. I am having my Christmas haircut. I was considering having my hair braided and teased into the shape of reindeer antlers, however have decided instead to have it dyed green and cut into a Christmas tree shape so that I can festoon it with tinsel and baubels. Only kidding, I'm actually having my grey roots touched up and then my split ends are being trimmed.
The dye is on, I'm having a coffee and biscuit, there are Christmas songs on the radio and there's a gentle buz of conversation from stylists and their clients. I really love having my hair done, I like feeling spoilt and pampered, I enjoy chatting to the stylist who does my hair and who always amazes me by remembering what we talked about at the last appointment (I wonder if she makes notes of conversations as a reminder?) and I love the anticipation of knowing that for one day out of six weeks I'll have good hair.
I know people who don't enjoy it though, who worry that they won't like the cut, who when they get home immediately wash their hair as they aren't happy with how its blow dried and I know one person who doesn't like going to a hair salon as she hates sitting in front of the mirror and is embarrassed to stare at herself. I don't have this problem though as I take my glasses off whilst there so all I can see in the mirror are blurred colours and movements. The down side of this is that I have to hold books and magazines right up to my nose in order to be able to read.
I started enjoying having my hair done a lot more when I began to take a book with me to appointments. Before then I read the magazines that the salon provided and there's only so many perfume adverts, photo shoots of clothes I can't afford and wedding details of celebrities that I've never heard of that I can put up with.
The one thing that I don't enjoy about getting my hair done is the torture of leaning back over the sink to get my hair washed. The basins in salons have got to be one of the world's most useless design products. The curved groove which is supposed to craddle your neck has in fact been ergonomically designed to dig into your vertebrae and cut off the circulation to the rest of your body. To get into position where your head is anywhere near the water you need the flexibility of a yogi as your neck is required to twist itself into the lotus position. So you lie back, getting a crick in your neck, your head at such an angle that the rest of the salon can see right up your nose and still the scalding water can only actually rinse your forehead and ears and leaves your hair, especially at the back, full of suds. The price of beauty eh. I wonder what it says about me that I still enjoy getting my hair done.
This is my last post before Christmas and so my new hair and I just wanted to wish you all a very happy Christmas. I hope that the magical fairy of happiness sprinkles you all liberally with a sparkly, cinnamon fragrant dusting of joy and that at least one of your wishes comes true. I need to go now as the sink of torture is beckoning. I hope Santa brings me a neck brace to help me get over the inevitable whiplash.
Happy Christmas everyone.

Sellotape, space and Goldfish bowls.

So Tim Peake has headed off into space and I can't help but think that it should have been me.

I always fancied the idea of being an astronaut, to be able to view Earth as a globe must be amazing. If I had made a couple of different life choices it could be me up there now. Just minor changes in the decisions I made such as; studying Engineering instead of Psychology, learning to fly a plane instead of buying a house and joining the services instead of working in civilian street. So as you can see it could so easily have been me heading off into space. Of course I'd have also needed different eyes as astronauts are required to have excellent eyesight, I'd need to be a lot fitter and be about twenty years younger. Infact Tim and my almost parallel lives can be summed up perfectly in the words of John Bradford,

" There but for the grace of God go I".

So instead of heading off into space, this week I have mostly been wrapping presents. I have bought this brilliant new sellotape dispenser that fits onto the back of my hand. This means that you can cut the sticky tape one handed, essential when one hand is busy trying to hold the wrapping paper together. Earlier in the week, before I had the dispenser,  I instead cut lots of strips of sellotape and stuck them onto the edge of the coffee table. Then it was just a matter of trying to unstick the tape from the table edge, pulling it off Billy dogs ears, which just happen to be the same height as the table and trying to pull the tape apart when it curls back on itself. Now that I have my amazing new dispenser wrapping presents is a sinch, especially as the wrapping paper I've bought has lines on the back so I don't even struggle to cut straight lines. The only difficulty I have now is that Billy insists on "helping" by sitting in the middle of each piece of paper that I cut.

So OK I haven't gone into space this week and don't get to look out of my rocket window to see the Earth as a sphere. And I won't be a national hero, with the media tracking my progress, but I'm not bitter.  At least I don't have to go to work with a goldfish bowl on my head; my name doesn't sound like a 90's TV show (Tim Peake/Twin Peaks) and I won't be eating my Christmas dinner in tablet form. No I'm not jealous at all.

Reindeers, mince pies and the tooth fairy

Dear Wendy,

Thank you for your letter dated 2nd December. It is a long time since you last contacted me, about 40 years in fact! Your handwritting hasn't improved! I hope that the years have been kind to you.

I can confirm that you have in fact evaded the naughty list again this year, but I should point out that it was by the skin of your teeth. Each year you seem to get a bit naughtier and you really are skating on thin ice now. You have been warned!

I wanted to reply to you in person as there may be a slight problem with a couple of the items on your Christmas list and I don't want you to be disappointed on Christmas morning. As you say in your letter, the festive period does get more and more commercialised each year, but I'd like to point out that it's easier for me to get actual material things compared to your requests. Let me go through your list point by point.

• World peace, end of famine and cure for cancer. There's good news and bad news on these items. Let me start with the good news; I'm very pleased to say that we already have the ability, science and natural resources to achieve all of these lofty aims. The bad news unfortunately is that mankind has chosen at this time to use its resources to instead fund warfare, so peace, food for all and medical break throughs are all currently on the back burner. 
• A self cleaning dog. I do feel for you on this one as it's not just little white dogs who are hard to keep clean. The reindeers winter coats are a nightmare to keep muck free and I swear that the hollow fibres of their coats are dirt magnets. Mrs Santa and I are busy from Boxing Day till about April trying to get the chimney soot out of their undercoats. I can however recommend a good whitening shampoo (I know its good as I use it on my beard occasionally. Ho ho ho.)
• To win at games. A tricky wish to grant this one as if I were to grant it, you would be cheating and as a cheat you would have to go on the naughty list and not get any presents. Therefore I think you're just going to have to do your best to win by skill and luck like everyone else, you'll have more fun that way too.
• Good weather. Slightly outside my remit this one but I've had a word with a higher authority ie. the Met Office and we're on the case, you might want to keep your wellies and a waterproof handy though, just in case.
• A year of sleeping soundly. A good nights sleep is certainly a gift and I'd like to therefore give you an early present by telling you how to improve your sleep. Mrs Santa and I have a rule that we don't take phones, tablets, IPads etc to bed with us. Since we've started this we sleep much better. The wife also insists that we don't have any caffeine after 7:00pm, we have a milky drink at 9:00 and have sprigs of lavender under our pillow. What the lavender is there for, except to get tangled in my beard, I've no idea, but hey ho it helps to keep the elves busy in the summer harvesting the lavender.
• Enjoyment of tinned oily fish. I'm working on this one for you, hopefully by this time next year you'll be eating much more oily fish. I'm afraid that I don't have any fish recipes for you as we pretty much eat roast turkey all year round here, except on Christmas Eve when I have to eat approximately  six metric tonnes of mince pies.
• A red and blue box kite. I feel almost sure that I've delivered one of these to you before, however at this time of year I'm just too busy to look back through the archives and I've only had the current database for the last 8 years. Perhaps you could double check if you already have such a kite.

As you see I'm having a bit of difficulty with your list, so if you'd like to rethink your requests please let me know. Although you thought that you were being good by not being materialistic, you have made my job just a bit more difficult. Just a thought but have you ever considered asking for a set of ghd hair straighteners, my wife Mary swears by them and, no offence, but you look like you might benefit from them?

You also asked about how I got the job as Santa in the first place. Well I left school and got an apprenticeship with the Royal Mail. Whilst doing my training I spent some time as a postman, I also worked in the sorting office and central operations. Eventually I got a promotion into international projects, the experience I gained there was what I needed on my CV to apply for the job with Santas Deliveries PLC. Of course the fact that my Aunt is the Tooth Fairy and my second cousin on my mothers side is a Leprechaun probably helped too, we all know its not what you know, it's who you know that's important. I guess for young people interested in a job these days as Father/Mother Christmas then the more obvious route would be to take a degree in Logistics, like the one that Aston University offer and where I occasionally guest lecture.

So anyway must go, busy, busy.

Be good!

Love, Santa

Santa, oily fish and kites

Dear Santa,

There are already two windows open on my advent calendar and only 23 sleeps left till Christmas so I thought that I better send you my Christmas list as I don't want another mishap, like the year I forgot to send my list and you gave me a very unwelcome shoe cleaning set! 

I'm sure that you, of all people, will agree that Christmas is getting more and more commercialised and I expect that this has seen an increase in your workload, so I'll make this years list less materialistic than previous years.

First I'd like to point out that I have in fact been very good this year, so do deserve a present. I may have had a couple of minor misdemeanors such as the time I shaved Billy dog, borrowed veg from Mums garden, flashed a fisherman and stole five pence of petrol, but no one was harmed and I've done loads more good things, none of which exactly spring to mind.

So this Christmas I would like:

• I know it's a cliché but the first item on my list is of course world peace, the end of famine and a cure for cancer.
• A self cleaning spray for Billy dog. White dogs might look cute but they're the devil to keep clean.
• To win at least one game over the festive season. My family and I love to play games but are all super competitive, so I'd love to win at least one game, ideally more.
• Some good weather over the holidays. I'm not expecting balmy sunshine but some cold, bright and frosty days would be lovely. A light dusting of snow on Christmas morning would of course be perfect.
• A year of good sleep. I don't always sleep very well so I'd love to get a guaranteed seven hours a night to recharge my batteries.
• I'd like to be able to enjoy tinned oily fish more. I know they are very good for me but just don't like them. I eat tinned tuna but unfortunately it doesn't have the same health benefits as sardines, pilchards or mackerel.
• If you're struggling with any of the above then could I please have a red and blue box kite instead.

I was also wondering if you've got time, if you could answer a couple of questions for me. As someone who works as a Careers Adviser, I was wondering how you got into your line of work? Wish Fulfillment must be a hugely competitive job area to get into and it's always interesting to hear about peoples career journeys so that I can pass accurate information onto the young people that I work with.

So good luck with this busy time of year Santa and please pass on my best wishes to the reindeer and elves.

Thanks in anticipation,

Love Wendy.

P's There's still no mobile signal and dodgy Sat Nav in Porthtowan so you may need to bring your street atlas.

Stir up Sunday, soya sauce and shopping

Well Christmas is definitely on its way; stir up Sunday has been and gone, I've baked my Christmas cake and the shops are bedecked with festive goods. I'm well on the way with my Christmas shopping  but for those of you who are still searching for that elusive present for a hard to please friend or relative I may well have the perfect solution.

You see I have invented a new game which I hope that I'll have time to get patented and onto the shelves of all good toy shops in time for Christmas. This blog is by way of market research, so I'd love to hear what you think of it.

The game is called "Where on earth have I parked the car?". Like all good games its quite a simple premise but should afford hours of entertainment. All you really need to play is a car and a supermarket, complete with carpark. The rules are simple, it can be played by one to five players (perhaps more if your car seats more people). You park your car in the large, crowded carpark and head into the store congratulating yourself that you've remembered to bring your shopping bags.

At the entrance of the store you have a tousle with the coin operated trolley and then head in to start your shopping. It's best if you have written a detailed shopping list, which you then leave at home so that you have to wander up and down each aisle in the hope that the things you need will catch your eye or in a perfect world leap off the shelf into your trolley. Ideally you have gone shopping at a time when the store is busy with other shoppers who don't give a fig for shopping etiquette ie they leave their trolley in the most inconvenient place possible, let their children push the trolley right into your unsuspecting calves and stand chatting to friends and blocking the aisle, completely unaware that anyone else in the world needs tea bags or soya sauce.

Trolley laden, you make it to the tills and select the one with the shortest queue, only to find you're being served by shop assistant of the month, who won this accolade by being especially chatty. Don't get me wrong, its good to be served by a friendly face but I don't feel the need to discuss every purchase I've made, yes the wine does look nice and yes we all do deserve a treat, now hand it over!

Eventually goods paid for, the game starts properly because as you head for the exit, hobbling slightly from your bruised shins, you will find that you have no recollection of where you parked your car. The ordeal of trying to remember what you need, playing dodgems with fellow shoppers and being rammed painfully by a large trolley inexpertly driven by a small child, not to mention discussing the cold weather with Miss Conviviality at the till, has induced a state of shopping amnesia and you now have no idea where your car is. You wander off hopefully in one direction only to find that although it's the right colour car, it's the wrong make. You do a u turn and search in another row of cars to no avail. You walk up and down the carpark and are just starting to wonder if your car has been stolen when you realise the car you are standing next to is indeed yours.

The winner of the game is the person who takes the longest to find their car. There are of course bonus points if it's raining, if you're in a hurry and late for something, if you have a white car and if you get home and realise that you've forgotten the one item you went out for. The beautifully presented game will contain, a stop watch with which to time your search, details of the complicated scoring system and score sheets so that you can compare times for previous shops. There could even be online groups where you could see how your time compares to other people.

So what do you think, surely it's destined to be this Christmases must have gift? I wonder if I should be pitching it to The Dragons Den? Let me know if you'd like to reserve one of these highly sought after games but I should point out that due to the high demand I may have to limit purchases to one per household, terms and conditions apply.

France, chicken soup and the common cold

This week I felt that I should write something deep and meaningful about terrorism, but where to start. I don't want to live in a world where human life is used to make a political or a religious point, where a tiny minorities actions can cause distrust and intolerance amongst cultures who previously had lived together harmoniously and where a small group of people can seemingly start a war. So although I am not ignoring the events in Paris I don't feel that I can write about it, I just don't have the words.

So let me tell you instead about my attempt to make chicken noodle soup.

I've had a cold and a cough this week and spent some time looking online for home cures. I didn't fancy a salt water gargle or chewing on a raw garlic clove and I really couldn't imagine how a mustard footbath was going to help, but a reoccurring remedy I kept reading about was chicken soup so I decided to give it a go. It took me the best part of the day on Monday to make and filled my house with savoury aromas.

First I brought a couple of pounds of chicken, a carrot, an onion, a leek and some water up to the boil. I then simmered it for two hour, skimmining the scum off the top every fifteen minutes or so. Next I took the chicken out, took the meat off the bones, put the bones back in the stock together with a paring of lemon, a slice of ginger and a handful of parsley stalks. This was boiled for an hour, strained and left to go cold.

When chilled I removed the fat from the stock and then reheated it. I seasoned it, added finely chopped carrot and leek and cooked it for a couple of minutes. Next I added the noodles and brought back to the boil, then finally added the chicken meat back in to reheat and some chopped parsley.

A lot of love, effort, time, care and attention went into making that soup. I don't really like touching raw meat but had laboriously skinned the chicken portions, ignoring how squeamish it made me feel. I had cut the veg into perfect tiny dice, I'd even pealed the carrot for goodness sake. Despite my cold and blocked nose even I could smell the wonderfully comforting aromour and Billy dog was salivating so much I was practically paddling in puddles of his drool. So after spending seven hours labouring over a hot stove, making my kitchen into a chicken scented steam room and driving Billy dog into a feeding frenzy, what did I eventually end up with and did it cure my cold?

The results of my cooking was a steaming bowlful of golden broth, floating with jewels of veg, parsley and noodles. It looked perfect, better than the recipe picture in fact, and it tasted like a steaming bowlful of hot water. Yes you read correctly, hot water with no flavour at all. I think that all the chicken taste had evaporated into steam and was now clinging to my soft furnishings, I would probably have got more flavour out of my rug and curtains than from the actual soup. Talk about an anticlimax, I had put in all that effort to effectively boil a kettle. I adjusted the seasoning and now had a steaming bowlful of salty water. And my cold? Would someone mind going to the chemists and picking me up some Lemsips please? Aitchoo!

I really wanted to end up with a steaming bowl of deliciousness instead of my watery imposter. A bowl created from a disparate group of ingredients, all coming together in a yummy combination, each ingredient complimenting the other. So this week I have learnt that things it don't always work out the way that you want; my soup was tasteless and France and the world are in mourning. Was it the recipes fault, the ingredients fault or had I done something wrong? Please let's not look for blame, judge by appearance or give up on soup, I'm convinced there's a bowl of perfection out there somewhere, we've just got to keep practising making it. Also we need to remember that there is more good soup out there than bad. Now does anyone know how to remove the smell of chicken from curtains?