At home

Eye In The Sky

/ masher / 4 Comments

A couple of weeks ago, one night, as I emerged from the woods whilst walking the dog, I saw a flashing green light in the sky.

“Hmmm, what’s that?” I wondered. My only guess was that it might be a drone.

It wasn’t moving and it was difficult to gauge it’s height.

It appeared to be totally silent.

Suddenly, it darted to the right, very fast, and hovered high over some houses about about 100 metres away. It stayed there for a minute or so then darted back to it’s original position.

By now, I was at the end of the path and was much closer to it, but I still couldn’t make out what it was.  Maybe it was a UFO?

Well, it was an object and it was flying and I was unable to identify it, so I suppose it was.

I put the dog on the lead and we crossed the road and headed home and I noticed that the green light was following me… from a distance.

It’s about a ten minute walk home: across the main road; through a cul-de-sac with an alleyway at the end of it, then across a small green and into my road.

At all times, the green light followed.

As we got to my road, it whizzed around so that it was in front of me and it’s height lowered, such that it was hovering about twenty feet above the houses.  Now that we were away from the traffic noise and it was a bit lower, I knew that it definitely was a drone, as I could hear the tell-tale whine of it’s little motors.

I stopped and looked up at it.

It stopped and looked down at me.

I raised my arm and fired a shot at it from my pretend gun.

It didn’t fall out of the sky.  Or even pretend to.

Hovering high above my back garden, it watched as I went into the house. It stayed there for about thirty seconds as I looked at it through the window and then it disappeared into the night.

It was slightly unnerving.

It stopped!

/ masher / 6 Comments

This first picture was taken just before I hit the sack last night.

The second was when I got up this morning.

Somewhere between those two times, the world got all excited and launched several megatonnes of fireworks into the air.

People threw parties and drank themselves silly and enthusiastically wished each other a fortuitous and healthy next 12 months.

Others, serenely sat and watched Jules Holland’s Hootananny, with a glass of wine.

In the Masher household, the current Mrs Masher and I, firmly shook each other by the hand and then went to bed early, thereby missing out on all the shenanigans.

We were supposed to be at a party: my dad usually throws one at his gaff and it’s generally a hoot, with plenty to eat, plenty to drink, games, dancing and loud music. It usually ends at about three in the morning, after we have conga’d our way down the street… much to the annoyance of the neighbours.

But this year it all got cancelled at the last minute as half the family have gone down with Flu / Covid type symptoms.

And I didn’t mind, really, as celebrating New Year doesn’t do much for me, anymore.

I’m obviously getting old and grumpy.

Anyway…

I think it would be overly optimistic to expect this year to be any better than last, so I’ll just wish you both a “Reasonable New Year”.

Thank The Lord…

/ masher / 2 Comments

… that’s all over.

Normality has started to resume.

I have eaten my own body weight in sausage rolls and mince pies and have drunk myself silly with all the beer from my advent calendar.

I am currently working my way through all the Christmas programmes recorded on the TiVo (started on the Christmas Lectures last night.. ugh, gory), and I couldn’t resist watching The Magnificent Seven, for the upteenth time.

All the Christmas cards have been taken down and disposed of (although, following the Royal Mail strikes, I suspect we may get a few more yet).

The Christmas tree has been dismantled, boxed up and stowed away back in the loft for another year.

All I need to do now, is take a trip up to the Tidy Tip, to dispose of half a ton of cardboard and wrapping paper.

And then I need to ready myself for the New Year festivities.

Please God, make it stop.

A Book At Bedtime

/ masher / 7 Comments

Hi there.

Hopefully you both managed to survive the raging inferno that has been the last two days.

Now, a while back, I waxed lyrical about how my new Kindle was the best thing ever.  But over the past couple of days, I have found something that a good old-fashioned book can do, that my Kindle can’t: it can help me to sleep at night when the weather is hot.

How so, you might ask?

Well, we found that closing the curtains at night really trapped the heat in – despite the ceiling fan whirring around at warp factor 2 – and having them open helped draw the cooler outside air in.

No problem with that, except that a while back, the council replaced the streetlamp across the road with a really bright LED one.  Not a problem when the curtains are closed, but with them open, the light comes into the bedroom.

But, the angle that the light comes in through the window, means  that it doesn’t illuminate the whole bedroom.

Hell, it doesn’t even illuminate the bed.

No, a shaft of white light comes into the room and falls straight across my pillow.

Nowhere else in the room, just my pillow.

It’s impossible to get to sleep, with what feels like daylight on the other side of my closed eyelids.

Closing the curtains hasn’t been an option the past couple of days but a solution was found in the shape of Michael Palin’s Diaries 1969 to 1979 – an epic tome that is just the right size and weight to be able to stand on the windowsill and block out the light from the offending streetlamp.

Can’t do that with my fancy Kindle!

 

Embarrassing

/ masher / 4 Comments

For a long time now, Son has been wanting to get a motorbike, but I have said no: they’re dangerous, noisy smelly things that shouldn’t be allowed on the road.

Which – as I have alluded to before – makes me a bit of a hypocrite.

But, he has pestered me and pestered me and many of his mates have one, so I have finally capitulated and on Saturday, we borrowed a van and drove to Billericay to buy a 2009 Yamaha YBR125… with only 120 miles on the clock.

For a bike with such low mileage, the bodywork isn’t as good as one would expect, with a couple of tiny dinks in the tank and what looks like paint thinners spilt onto some of the plastic bits, where it has probably spent years tucked away in the corner of a garage, with all sorts of crap piled upon it.

But overall, it’s in good nick and the engine runs as sweet as a nut – hell, it still needs running in!

He is searching around for insurance at the minute (extortionate), so the bike is just sitting in the garage.

Last night, we changed the oil in it, as I believe it still had the original oil from 2009 in it and then I took it for a bit of a ride around the garden.  It’s so light, compared to my bike, and I was dicking around on it – standing up on the pegs like a trial rider – when the road tyres decided they didn’t like the slightly damp grass and over I went.  My first motorcycle accident in thirty years or more! Luckily, I was wearing proper motorcycle safety gear: thin dog-walking trousers; short-sleeve t-shirt and slippers.

To add insult to injury (I grazed my shin), when I was riding around, I noticed some dog shit. “Must pick that up, later”, I thought.  You guessed it: landed straight in it… a nice runny one, all up my arm!

Whilst the family laughed at me and Son showed concern for any damage to his bike – just some mud embedded in the foot peg – I tried to turn it into a lesson by example for him:

“If someone with 43 years of motorcycling experience, can fall off that easily, at 5mph…”

But I’m sure it’s something that I won’t be able to live down, for a long time.

Too House Proud?

/ masher / 4 Comments

We are having a new bathroom fitted, this week.

There wasn’t a great deal wrong with the old one, to be honest.

To be fair, I’d changed the suite only about ten years ago, but the pale blue, floor to ceiling tiling that we’d had done way back in 2000, was starting to look a little tired and dated.

Mrs. M decided it was time for a new one… and who am I to argue?

Wouldn’t dare.

Even as I type, the plasterers are in there, giving it the old Bish Bosh, Loadsa Money routine.

The bathroom fitters, themselves, came in on Monday and ripped out the old bathroom.

So, why did I spend an hour on Sunday evening, cleaning everything?

Because I don’t want a couple of blokes who I don’t know, thinking bad of me because I have a bit of mould  around the bath?

Yes, that is exactly why.

Stupid.

Progress

/ masher / 8 Comments

Well, that was hard work!

Yesterday, we (me and my dad) fitted the new electric sockets in the study.

The photo only shows a third of what was done and it was before we plastered.

My knees ache like buggery this morning!

So, today will bring some more rubbing down and some finishing plaster; washing down with sugar soap and then painting the ceiling.

It’s not the Cistene Chapel, so it shouldn’t take too long to slap some white emulsion on it.

With any luck, I should have time to paint the walls.

Last night, we went to the pictures, to see Uncharted.

Starring Mark Wahlberg and Tom Holland, it was an enjoyable romp – a sort of Indiana Jones meets Spiderman cross.

Annoyingly, we had planned to grab something to eat in Nando’s first, but there was a huge queue, so we ended up in KFC.

Queueing to get into Nando’s?

On a Tuesday?

And on the subject of queueing, there was also a queue to get into Wagamama’s.

It doesn’t matter what day we go, there is ALWAYS a queue to get into Wagamama’s.

What’s the draw? It’s just noodles, isn’t it?

I’d love to go in one day and see what the attraction is… but there’s always a queue.

Habiliments

/ masher / 6 Comments

Well, a good start was made yesterday with the room being emptied – how can there be so much stuff in such a small room! – and all the holes in the walls filled (first pass) – including that bloody big hole I made to get some coax cables through (the study used to be my radio shack), and all the woodwork rubbed down.  That’s all the horrible bits done.

Today is about getting some more electrical sockets in, which will involve channeling the wall and making a lot of mess.

So, I have changed in to my decorating attire: a pair of perfectly good walking trousers that I stupidly wore some years ago whilst decorating.  I then got paint on them and ruined them for any purpose other than decorating/DIYing.

And my Bum The Chum polo shirt.

Many years ago, when I worked in the Cable TV industry, some bright spark decided that rather than keep trying to get new customers, we should prevent our existing customers from leaving us, by offering them a better service.

Fair enough.

Customers joining and then leaving is known as churn.

And so a campaign was started, with the memorable tagline “Burn The Churn” and, as is usual with these things, we were all given keyrings and mugs and polo shirts emblazoned with this snappy slogan.

But on the polo shirts, especially from a slight angle, the words Burn The Churn looked more like Bum The Chum.   Oh how we laughed.

Well, I did.

I still proudly wear it to this day.

For decorating.

Off

/ masher / 10 Comments

I am on holiday this week.

Actually, that’s not strictly true: holidays conjure up pictures of lazing around a pool in the sunshine with a cold beer and a good book.

So I shall rephrase that.

I am taking some time off work this week.

Using up some of my annual leave allocation.

In order to do some decorating.

I hate decorating, so there is no way I can liken it to a holiday.

Yes, there are are a few other things I want get done, but decorating the downstairs study is the main reason I am off.

And though it is only a small room – taking up only a fifth of the East Wing – there is a fair bit to be done: extra electrical sockets need to be fitted; all the existing carpet tiles need to be replaced and I think it’s time that moose head came down.

But first, there is the arduous task of emptying the room and finding somewhere to put it all whilst the work is carried out.

And then there is all the prep work… the bit I hate the most.

So, rather than sit here writing about it, I suppose I’d better crack on.

Now, where did I put that bit of sandpaper…?

On the throne

/ masher / 7 Comments

Mrs Queen has sat on the throne for seventy years, now.

Which is a long time, gawd bless ‘er.

But, even after 30 years together, I can tell you that Mrs Masher has never seen me sitting on it.

Some things are just… well, private.

I’ve seen her sitting on the toilet loads of times though, as she has no qualms about coming in and having a dump whilst I am in the shower or cleaning my teeth.

Is that a female thing?

I remember going out with a girl many years ago and the first time I stayed over at her place, I was shocked when she casually walked into the bathroom the following morning and started taking a shit whilst I was in the bath (she did it in the toilet, not in the bath, I hasten to add!).

Maybe girls don’t have that kind of hang up?

Or maybe men don’t have that kind of hang up either and it’s just me?

Streaming telly

/ masher / 4 Comments

I have just finished watching Series 3 of the brilliant Ricky Gervais comedy, After Life, on Netflix.

I’m not going to do a review or anything here, but suffice to say, I absolutely loved this programme.

I watched every episode alone, so I could savour every minute.  And when I say ‘alone’, I mean when the house was completely empty or when everyone was in bed, so I could be absolutely sure of no interruptions.

It has been such a successful show – being sold around the world – that it’s no wonder that Netflix offered him a chance to do a 4th series, but Gervais declined and the last episode of series 3 ends the story just perfectly. I won’t deny that I found it a little emotional.

But anyway, now deprived of a box set to watch, I’ve found myself watching Reacher on Amazon Prime.  Based on the character created by author Lee Childs, this series follows two successful films that starred Tom Cruise, as the titular protagonist.

The 8-part TV series though, has a relatively unknown actor – Alan Ritchson – playing the main character… and he’s huge!   Lee Childs has been quoted several times on how he was always unhappy with Cruise being selected for the part, as the character he created in the books was a large intimidating man.  One thing that Tom Cruise has never been called is ‘large’.

However, for me, Cruise’s smaller physical presence worked really well in the films: his diminutive stature belying his ability to fight like a demon in hand to hand combat.  In short, the bad guys didn’t know what they were taking on.  But, with Ritchson, his huge six-foot five, muscle-bound frame would probably make bad guys think twice about tackling him, in reality.

But this isn’t reality: it’s make-believe, and tackle him they do: there are fisticuffs aplenty.

If you have Amazon Prime, it’s worth checking out.

Let there be light

/ masher / 6 Comments

I fitted a new security light to my garage at the weekend, as the one that I had put up several years ago had stopped working.  It still came on, but the LEDs were so dim, you’d hardly notice it.  And that’s the trouble with this new technology: in the old days (which wasn’t that long ago, really), you could easily swap out the halogen bulb… a relatively cheap, ten-minute job. But you can’t do that with these LED ones, instead, you have to replace the whole unit.

So, I bought a new one and set about fitting it.  Should only take half an hour or so. He said.

What I’d forgotten, was that I had fitted the original one about five years ago, before I had an electric, roller, garage door fitted.  The casing at the top of the door that houses the roller and the motor, etc. was now making it difficult to get at the wiring.

Very bloody difficult.

After much faffing about, I managed to do it, but it took an hour longer than I had expected it would… as these things always do.

The next step was to set it up when darkness fell, so, after dragging the mutt around the woods, I set about walking up and down the street and in and out of my driveway, trying to get it set such that it only came on when I actually walked onto the driveway:  adjust, hide round the corner until the light goes off, walk past, adjust, repeat a dozen times.  It’s fair to say I got some strange looks from passers-by whilst I was standing behind the fence, hiding from the sensor and waiting for the light to go off, but, if it’s gonna be done, it’s gonna be done proper. It always annoys me when walking along the pavement at night, to be suddenly blinded by someone’s security floodlight, because they haven’t set it up correctly.

A perfect example of this is the chap who recently moved into the house across the road. The security light that he put high up on the back of his house seems to be triggered by almost anything… including me when I go out the back door to put some rubbish in the bins.  I wouldn’t mind, but between me and his PIR, is the width of my back garden, the pavement, the road, the pavement on the other side and then the full length of his garden. We’re probably talking 20 to 25 metres.

Worse than that, is on the path which runs alongside the woods, where I walk the dog.  There are houses that back onto the path and several of them have security floodlights. One in particular always comes on as I walk along the path at night. The path must be at least 20 metres from his back fence and then another 15 metres of garden.   With the amount of dog-walkers that go up and down that path, I reckon his light must be on for much of the evening.

Any road up… following the attempted garage break-in a few years back (which is why I had to get a new door fitted), I also fitted a couple of LED downlights above the garage door. These come on automatically when it gets dark and do a good job of illuminating the garage door and that bit of the driveway.  The new security floodlight adds to that by being much brighter and lighting the whole driveway.

Have I made it more secure, I wonder, or have I just made it easier for the burglars to see what they’re doing?