The Bus That Talks

"This is the 243 to Waterloo"
"Rosebery Avenue"

Yes, it's true. I've found a bus that talks. And it tells you where you are going. It's incredibly helpful when you have no idea where you are.

I wonder how long it'll take before it gets annoying... never mind, I'm moving next week... I hope!

Printer Farce

Last week, I mostly tried to get a printer. It was supposed to be delivered last Friday and arrived on Wednesday. There was a catalogue of mishaps along the way, including:
- My father allready being a member of the site, which meant I couldn't register with the same address, and because I was busy the next day I had to leave it to poor Tony, who was having a bad day anyway
- The printer being "delivered" on Friday - not sure what happened there, but I sat around all day jumping every time I heard a car go past
- The bloke turning up on Monday morning, just as I was going to London, being told that my mother was in the house and not bothering to knock loudly, just leaving a card
- The delivery being "returned to the branch after an unsuccessful delivery attempt" on Tuesday i.e. they couldn't find us
- Finally turning up on Wednesday, after I'd rung to check where they were and being told they couldn't find us again, only with one box - printer cartridges and no printer
- Calling them again, only for them to assume I was still chasing both boxes, and finally getting two minutes to explain I'd got one box and not two. Then I was told that they'd only loaded one box onto the van that morning. Duh. They said they'd see if they could get someone on their way home to deliver the printer
- The bloke turned up at 7:30, saying "Here's your delivery they cocked up for you"... never has a truer word been said

Worst of all... they're going to deliver something to me tomorrow. Agggh. I really hope they can get it right this time, otherwise I'll have no nice new shoes for next week! (that'll then lacerate my feet... ah well can't have everything!)

Messing About By The River

Yesterday I got to be fraightfully posh and go to Henley. Henley, for those of you who don't know, is all about rowing. Well, mostly anyway.

My father in byegone days was once a great rower and rowed this course several times. This is why he comes every year to watch, and got annoyed when, in years gone by, a certain daughter of his had Parent's Day on the last day of Henley (which, needless to say, is the finals day...). I got home on Wednesday night after midnight (not drinking, just for a change, babysitting for my sister's incredibly well behaved and very sweet children) with a horrendous throat and as a result, wasn't feeling terribly special.
We ate the most delicious lunch - I had a half pint full of shell-on prawns, very fiddly but yummy with seafood sauce, followed by crab with new potatoes and salad and to finish, half a platter of cheese. Mmm. Oh, and I probably finished off a good half a bottle of wine.
After that rather filling lunch we - that is me, my godfather and my father, decided to go up to the start, which involved a rather interesting walk along the river which was quite narrow in places, and getting out of the posh area and seeing what is rather sadly the commercialization of this event - at what point do you really want to buy silver jewellery/fat face tops/an ergo at a rowing event? We did go into the food tent where I succumbed to buying beautiful tea that expands into a flower and my father bought some garlic for my mother...

When it got to tea time, the rain started, but, in a very British manner, we sat down with our umbrellas opened, had cake and scones with champagne and eventually went home.