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  • Husband is king of the 'it will get done' school of thought, to which the obvious reply is: 'yes, because muggins here will do it'. It will get done one way or another, but I rather like the idea of doing it well, which may have to fall by the wayside. I packed another box last night. The problem is, I do not know when the transition will come from living at the old place and moving things to the new to living at the new and moving things from the old. This is important as exam weekend I will need to organise pick up and drop off with a kind co-worker, but to and from where?

    I have booked two days off after the exam weekend. Possibly this will be devoted to cleaning the old house. Who knows, at this stage. Currently, I am trying to pack all the non-essentials (velvet cocktail dresses, silk jackets; cake tins I don't need for next weekend, novelty ice cube trays [husband's magpie approach to shopping strikes again]; spare linen and so forth). If I can clear the decks a little, I think packing the essentials will be easier somehow.

    Books (and bookcases) are the biggest things, but so far husband has not liberated the book boxes from the shed, only the larger boxes that can only be used for lighter things. The book boxes are, apparently, at the back of the shed.

    When I moved in with husband I managed it in the back of a black cab, one trip. Moving to Sydney, I think we had 50 boxes (professional packers - luxury). This will be a significantly larger operation. But, we have a car and friends have trailers. We'll manage it somehow. We can always hire a transit for the day if need be.
    I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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    • I presume pandemonium is a fitting word for what its like round your place at the moment, the best of luck with the move?!

      Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
      Night ended in a cancan dance and retiring co-worker cut her face somehow...claret all over her boat race. Surreal.
      Sounds like a proper night out, its not good night unless someone picks up a UDI....

      Comment


      • Originally posted by Dhansakdave View Post
        Sounds like a proper night out, its not good night unless someone picks up a UTI....
        Fixed it for you.

        We have boxes in every room, but at the moment we are at the phoney war stage - plenty of fear and sandbags, but very little action.
        I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

        Comment


        • Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
          Fixed it for you.
          I've had more UDI's than UTI's, not sure whether that's a good or bad thing....

          Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
          We have boxes in every room, but at the moment we are at the phoney war stage - plenty of fear and sandbags, but very little action.
          When d'you expect the opening skirmishes to begin?!

          Comment


          • Originally posted by Dhansakdave View Post
            When d'you expect the opening skirmishes to begin?!
            Optimistically, we should have a toehold on the beachhead of the new place on Friday. Certainly, we can begin forward operations on Saturday morning (I can whip up a cake in half an hour and the lupus tea and cake event isn't until the afternoon - albeit in the bush 90 minutes' drive away). The new house has four bedrooms, so we can designate one (my sewing room/the guest bedroom) the random box room until all the furniture is in and we can begin unpacking in earnest.

            Husband and BiL are available during the week, so furniture might get moved midweek. If we can get all the non-essentials moved somehow, in my mind, it becomes easier to clear the drawers/shelves/cupboards and things. This is husband's game, really, I will only be involved on the periphery.
            I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

            Comment


            • I was rememberencing (new word, roll with it), wasn't I?

              Third year. Well, third year was time to get serious about studying, after second year's dalliances with dandies and drunks. And I did, mostly. However, there's also the maxim that if one falls off a bike one should get straight back on or, less obliquely, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. It might not be romantic or particularly classy, but it seems to work quite effectively.

              In second year, Pops and I had become friends with a teacher at the boys grammar school where housemate May was doing her final PGCE (post-grad cert in education) placement. He was short, stocky, Greek, had a PhD and was very twinkly eyed. A gentle, flirty soul, we weren't quite sure which side of the stamp he licked. He was charming, sophisticated and playful. When he came out to May at the end of the year and she passed the news on I was rather sad. There's another delicious dish off the menu.

              We became closer friends in third year and I'd spend evenings in his apartment on the school grounds (he was a boarding master) chatting and drinking wine. He had a lovely boyfriend who lived an intercity train ride away. The four of us went out en masse from time to time. As I got to know him better, it turned out that he didn't restrict himself to licking just the one stamp or even a particular side of the stamp...Tass's approach to postage was to lick all of the stamps, push the envelope and snog the letter. Or, as it happens, cop off with strangers in the intercity train toilet on the way to visit boyfriend and seduce a PhD (girl)friend in Edinburgh.

              Well, it would have been rude not to, wouldn't it?

              Poor Tass. He looked so very beautiful and had a thick ursine pelt of soft dark hair - I thought I was going to be cradled by a teddy bear. Unfortunately, all his shenanigans had taught him very little about the female form. It was like being mauled by a blanket. Luckily, all things considered, it was a mauling of short duration. That didn't prevent me from repeating the experiment a few times. Dr Adonis, on looks so well named, on technique it was a dreadful misnomer.
              I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

              Comment


              • I have fallen in love with this dress. Calling all sugar mummies and daddies, fashion fairies and financial fates to step in and make it mine...perhaps it will go on sale.
                Clover Canyon Corinthian Vase Dress
                I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                Comment


                • Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
                  I have fallen in love with this dress. Calling all sugar mummies and daddies, fashion fairies and financial fates to step in and make it mine...perhaps it will go on sale.
                  Clover Canyon Corinthian Vase Dress
                  Berrlimey, 330 squids, but I can see why you like it. I don't think my entire wardrobe including the actual wardrobe itself cost that, not exactly true, but....

                  Rememberencing is a great worm!!

                  Comment


                  • Originally posted by Dhansakdave View Post
                    Berrlimey, 330 squids, but I can see why you like it. I don't think my entire wardrobe including the actual wardrobe itself cost that, not exactly true, but....
                    I know, I am cursed with expensive tastes. I do not usually like asymetric clothes, but I would make an exception for that frock.
                    I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                    Comment


                    • Badger - i have been a wee bit missing in action of late ........ Just checked out the dress ..... Absolutely gorgeous. It will look amazing on you - just doooooo eeeeettttttt!
                      "never let the truth get in the way of a good story "

                      ...small steps....

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                      • Yay! Gwamma's back
                        I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                        Comment


                        • Thanx Badger, i'm not really sure where Gwamma has been, but definately missing in action!!!!
                          Hope all is well with the badgers
                          G x
                          "never let the truth get in the way of a good story "

                          ...small steps....

                          Comment


                          • Third year was also when I started to get serious about what on earth I was going to do after I graduated. Books, I like books. Which meant publishing, which meant London. I had a vague idea that I needed work experience and that seven summers of servitude to the tourist trade were not going to cut the mustard. So. I applied to Waterstones (and was declined) and started volunteering at the Oxfam bookshop.

                            Ah, the bookshop - a sketch show waiting to happen. My co-workers were crusty, male vegan students (that translucence of skin can be quite Christ like), old biddies in layers of handknitting and Colin, the paid (and very ambitious) manager. We would sit around on broken chairs behind the till warming our hands on chipped mugs full of tea. Colin was as charismatic as a man called Colin working in a charity bookshop can be. He held forth on Joni Mitchell, drugs and shagging girls with dyed hair. I understood.



                            We are solidly in the nose stud years here, but also the manic panic era. I bought the tubs from Ms Mundane (a shop full of velvet, embroidery, drug paraphernalia, dream catchers, body piercing - you know the deal). I chopped and changed between blue, purple and scarlet red...but my hair is dark brown and, unless I bleach it first, it basically stays dark brown. My pillowcases, on the other hand, took to manic panic very easily. As did the face of anyone sleeping next to me - poor bruised looking lambs, but no slaughter just laughter.

                            After first year's experiments with close crops, I had let my hair grow and grow - cheapest style out there, long hair - and then misguidedly cut myself a blunt fringe. I essentially have the same look now (hopefully slightly straighter - thanks, husband). Oh dear, short, sharp hair is my preference, but I cannot justify the outlay for haircuts every six weeks.
                            Last edited by badgergirl; 05-07-2014, 04:46 PM.
                            I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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                            • I am desperately trying to grow my hair out so I can bleach it and go pink again (my favorite color for hair by far), but I am very much a short-haired person so it is very difficult. I kept up with 6-8 week trims for a while, but slacked off this month. I'll go for a trim at the end of the month, before a friend's wedding, but I will be sorely tempted to chop it all off. I want to get my hair to at least shoulder-length before bleaching & dyeing and I'd ideally have the first bleach job done in a salon so it's even.
                              Depression Lies

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                              • I have never since worked anywhere that was punky hair friendly. So, sadly, for the time being, my manic panic days are done.

                                Conversation with husband this morning...
                                H: don't know what you did the other day, but the coffee was like tar.
                                Me: I like my coffee like I like my women...strong.
                                Me: Plentiful.
                                Me: Hot.
                                H: Creamy?



                                H: You weren't going to go there?
                                Me: I've been there before.
                                I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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