Weird Weekends

Watching Louis Theroux which is kinda cool, it's a benefit of cable. He's learning to act. The good news is that some of my glue ear issues are going away. On blowing my nose today some of my muttness disappeared. Feel tired but can't sleep yet. I'd like a bath but can't seem to get any hot water. This is a bit irritating. Apart from anything else I want to watch the 3-0 win over Birmingham today. Given that the suspensions should have started to bite it was a cracking result. Tomorrow need to sort Tom's stuff. So we can just lift it when need be. Monst has negotiated with Kitty over the future of the washing machine. We plan on replacing our current model with the one from here. Need to find my driving licence to get it replaced then hire a van.

Untouchables

Ooops Untouchables turn out to be the shirt sponsor. Apparently the deal in decor but why they sponsor a team that play in claret and amber is beyond me, it shows no sense of taste.

Half Time

My old fella and I went to see Bournemouth in the mid-70s and it was at this point I declared the players had gone off for a gin and tonic. I remember the laughs around me, but that's what the old fella had told me so it must have been right. Here it could hardly damage the defensive ineptitude. Claret and Amber the bear mascots of Motherwell are on the pitch doing their stuff. Their names reveal an important truth about Jockish football, they play in horribly garish colours, Livingstone are in purple for crying out loud. 1-1 at half time and its all been a rather old fashioned experience. The crowd is not packed and moves around fairish. Still that's kinda nice.

Untouchables

Went for a posh seat in the Main Stand at 17 quid this is rediculously compared with the English Premiership, if I'd been cheap I could have got in for 13 quid. Juveniles do we do them anymore in England 4 quid a pop a family 15, why don't they get bigger crowds at this sort of price. Love the NHS Lanarkshire sponsore 'Keep Cigarettes Away from the Match' on the East Stand, do it at Goodison or Anfield I say. Pitch looks good but I'm not certain about the Untouchables nickname. Terry Butcher ain't ever gonna be Elliot Ness. Also can't believe this lot are 4th in the SPL they've got bugger all money. Looking forward to a cracking afternoon.

New Century

Dragging me kicking and screaming out of the Century of the Fruitbat and depositing me with a pint of Guinness in the New Century Bar in Motherwell. Mine host greeted me on asking for the iron rich beverage with a dissaproving 'You whit?' So a brief exchange of pleasantries and coin of the realm leads me to a reasonable pint even if I am drinking the devils buttermilk. I'm kinda assuming tickets aren't gonna be a problem for this aft and that observation of the traditional 3 o'clock kick off is observed. Who can tell?

World Cup Win

So England win the world cup. Cool, still think that rugby's a stoopid game though, it lacks logic and beauty but it makes such a change for England to win anything.

Little Blue Pills

Getting fed up with Viagra spam. It's irrelevant and boring. Gareth meanwhile getting good value for money out of the rugby world cup final. It's gone to extra time, so 20 extra minutes for his buck. Its all a bit tense.

World Cup

Sat here watching the rugby world cup final, Gareth Jones (the younger) should be there. Just been over to the Asda at Hamilton and came back via Fir Park because I'm toying with the idea of going to see Motherwell v Livingstone. Picked up 'Monstrous Regiment' the new Pratchett on the basis my traditional Pratchett christmas present came from Margaret. Just sorting a healthy breakfast of meusli and coffee, how civilised.

Catching Up

Finally this morning I fire off a reference for Mic to Melanie Hinde. Sort through the glory hole. Then catch up with some blogs including as ever the Rapidly Diminishing Ken Clare where I sense some unease. Monst calls to say the speech and language unit have failed to answer her queries and still haven't give us a clue on how we're progressing with Cal. Bit pissed off with them at the moment. One of the neighbours gives me some useful information on local charities that collect furniture and stuff. Not my decision to make but useful and welcomed by me. It also dawns on me it's Friday, what happened to the week?

Bleah!

Still going through the house, I'm now on Margaret's room so just that and the kitchen to go. Feel knackered for no reason at all other than going to bed late and getting up early. Waiting on a call from Davie that hasn't come. Fed up, but nothing unusual in that.

Back in the DHSS

Sorted Tom's clothes and dragged them to the Co-op. Nasty moment when I realised that I was almost sending him off commando. Soon rectified, but a touch alarming to realise I'm talking to Tom whenever I wander into his room. Spooky! Went via Kitty's, dropped her off at Tesco's and then journeyed to the DHSS to return Tom's benefit books and to see if we can claim some death benefit. If we can so much the better, 2 funerals in a fortnight is proving expensive. Word on Margaret's estate is once the courts sort things we have to wait 6 months before we can get on with things.

Repeat to Fade

Eventually I get to sleep only to be woken just now by the Blackberry and Monst. She wanted to read me the bit she's put in Cal's homework book which asks a few reasonable questions of the speech and language unit. Mind you I should be up anyway. Don't stop me saying Aaaaargh foul beast won't you stop your incessant demands.

Voicemail

Here I am in the land of nod when the blackberry wakes me with a voicemail message. Aaaargh, let me sleep you pesky beast.

24/7

What did we do before the advent of 24 hour Asda? Just sorted Tom's shirt, some Venos cough mixture for me, a box of Alpen and some hot chocolate. Exotic isn't it! Meanwhile I come back to watch 'Forbidden Love' which is looking at the sexual side of the slave trade. Interesting historical argument coming out of it.

Mandolins and Woodcuts

Nipped to see Sharon's Aunt Mattie to see how she's coping. She's OK, as ever the dainty plates of sandwiches, biscuits and cakes came out. What also came out was a 3 Volume set of the Arabian Nights, filled with fine woodcuts from 1859 (I got asked was it worth anything, I dunno) and Sharon's Grandpa's mandolin. An interesting instrument that went through the North Africa campaign with him. You can hear Rommel trembling in his boots 'Not only do ze British pig dogs threaten me with Gunner Milligan and his syncopated D Battery band but now now I face a short Black Watch Jock with a mandolin, quick mein Fuhrer send me the 1st Bavarian Heavy Opera mit ze quick firing grand piano'. Sorry fairly depressed so I'm getting silly. Need to go buy Tom a shirt because we don't think his is clean.

Saltmarket

The trouble with having worked in hospitals is you here some terrible stories about events in mortuaries. Usually involving a mortuary assistant called Nobby. It's the sort of grim humour that keeps the NHS going. So faced with a nip into Strathclyde's Police Mortuary to get the death certificate I kind of remember the theft of the video of the PM I heard about in Headington and sories about missing appendages. I also kind of expect to bump into half the cast of 'Taggart' muttering things about murder (you'll have to read that in broad Glaswegian). What I'm not expecting is to find the mortuary impossible to get in, then to wander around looking sufficiently lost so that some jakey alky outside the Sally Army can give me directions to the mortuary. I'm also not expecting a cheery bloke in scrubs and tatoos to welcome me and sort out the death certificate. There is also a moment when he doesn't understand what I want over the tannoy system I have to use to get in. When I'm in I can admire the architecture of the mortuary and the care they've taken in the waiting room to cheer it up with fragrant candles and cushions. Nice touch the geezer telling me where the bog was too. Anyway I sign for the bit of paper which tells us nothing but will get a Form 14 Registration Certificate, the Death Certificate being a Form 11, I also need a Form E1 the Cremation form. What a paper trail....

PM Result Not

Word is that the PM is done but no cause of death is established. Kitty's well upset, me I guess it must be a hell of a job making sense of why somebody dies because there are so many options. Anyway thing is our immediate reaction was that how do we sort Tom out because no cause means no death certificate. Quick consultation with Monst, then Dawn at the Co-op (she assured us it was normal) then ex-PC Andy Thompson. Apparently they will issue the documentation and release the body because there are no suspicious circumstances. So we're away to pick up the bit of paper that'll allow us to get the bit of paper that is the death certificate. Spoke to the fetchingly titled Fiscal Mrs. Sinclair of Hamilton to find out what tests we were waiting on, turns out it's the toxicology and there's a 3-4 week wait for the results and a 6-8 week wait on cause of death to be established. The not knowing is the thing Kitty hates. To top this off we also learned that death has been popular up here so ther may not be a slot for Tom on Monday and the funeral could be moved to Tuesday.

PM Wait

At Kitty's waiting on the post mortem result. Just sat supping coffee and waiting with James. Car decided not to start and I need to go to town to pick up the death certificate. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. Sorted the garage early am. So just the kitchen, bathroom, glory hole and Margaret's room to do. Looks like Saturday'll be busy. If anybody wants to use Fade at the moment my advice is use us for remote delivery. Tracy has the cold, I have the cold and a touch of otitis media in my left ear which means I'm mutt, and Sally following her ear syringing experience has an ear infection. Come into the NHS and stay healthy or what. The waiting's driving me nuts, thank non-existent deities that I can blog from anywhere these days. Meanwhile on schools TV they're wittering about how we pee. Talk about taking the piss. It's all more physiology than I really wish to know. Much woe expended by James over the footie result.

Humor? Humour?

Alan Yentob on sitcoms shifting over to the States from the UK. Interesting will the Office translate. David Brent man in Slough who will he be, where is the Slough equivilent in the States? Can't believe 'Till Death Us Do Part' translated to the States. Alf Garnett in the States (Archie Bunker - how did they translate the West Ham bit), madness, utter madness. 'Steptoe and Son' did it as well. Freaky or what!

PM is AM

Tom's post-mortem result should be with us tomorrow. I promised Kitty that I'd be round her place at around 10.30. So early start in the garage then to sort that out. Scotland are being stuffed by the Dutch and Wales are 1 down. As a result I'm watching 'What Not to Wear'. I kind of enjoy it but you'd be mortified if you were on it. Pint of Riggwelter is going down nicely. Should start sorting more stuff but can't be arsed. Stupid, it's not as if it's work is it. Need to ring Mattie still.

Stuff Needs Sorting

A day of sorting through Tom�s stuff. Felt really freaky, like I was invading his space. Still it needed doing and I�m still searching for some of his stuff. At least his birth certificate turned up. Oh, well my trip to Martha Street was a bit of a waste of effort then. Need to sort the garage tomorrow. Need to tidy the gaff up a bit, now I�ve fed myself. I�ve kind of ignored that side of things. Sent my biog to Sandra Alderson for the AHP�s day that I�m doing on the 4th December. Was my usual flippant self, don�t think she was expecting that but it gave me a giggle writing it. Good news from Hilda looks like Halton are up for a service from us and Warrington want to do a bit of cost comparison with two other services. Doubt any will be as cheap! Monst called to say Cal�s tooth fell out of it�s own accord, that�s good because it means we don�t have to take him for a general anaesthetic at the dental hospital. Called work and much debate with Sally on the impact of inflation on the tooth fairy. Talking to Kitty it seems a quid a tooth is the going rate. Then later Monst called back. The speech and language unit want Callum in for 4 days a week for the next 10 weeks so they can sort the paperwork for him to be statemented. This ain�t acceptable. It screws up his routine at Beechenhurst, it makes our working lives impossible. This and the academic level attainment of the school is piss poor. He needs support in the right environment. I�m a bit angry about it, sounds like we might have to deal with the delightful Steve Redfern again. I hope to non-existent deities if it is him and not Dilys we need to deal with that he�s gained the ability to make decisions. All in all, this is all we need right now. If you want to pick up some good musical vibes try Isobel Capmbell�s album �Amorino� appearing on Snowstorm. Nice 60�s vibe to it. She�s a gentle voice on her too. Nice stuff.

Martha Street and Other Stories

Coatbridge via Uddingston, an odd route but at least it offered constant movement. Arrived at Kitty's around 9. Went through the red box to find no birth certificate for Tom. Change of set list for the funeral, 'All Things Bright and Beautiful' is off the subs bench and 'Abide with Me' is in the box for the next cup final. Planned an encoure of 'What a Friend We Have in Jesus' at the crematorium. Thank non-existent deities for Brightwell-cum-Sotwell's Church of the Uncommited Primary School and all those assemblies. It's left me with an ability to mumble the Lord's Prayer (English Style) and with a working knowledge of enough hymns to last me a lifetime. Just had a call from Davie the ex-almost brother-in-law, he's on his way over for a beer and a chat. Cool we've always got on. Meanwhile in a Bellshill inspired moment I'm listening to the new BMX Bandits album, how can you go wrong with songs like 'The Road to Love is Paved with Banana Skins'. Nipped, over to see Margaret, (Monst's aunt for the confused) to tell her the news. She took it better than I expected which was good because I really wasn't looking forward to telling her. So I've finally got hot water, and my bath beckons. Belle and Sebastian's 'If You're Feeling Sinister' another of today's purchases from Avalanche as I went to get a copy of Tom's birth certificate from Martha Street. A venue full of utility decor, it's like walking onto the 1940's set of 'Goodnight Sweetheart'.

Rise and Shine

Not quite, rise, lurch about about, finish writing, mail it to Tracy using the Tiscali account I had to set up to use the web up here in the summer as a result of a minor spat between BT and Telewest. Next stop coffee, a quick tidy up and a wash then I'm due over at Kitty's at 9.20. Need to leave about 8.45 because the 10 minute journey involves going over the Shawhead Flyover, a scheme of road improvement that has improved the journey not one jot and can add anything up to half an hour on your journey time. Planned by a genius and implemented by a lemming. Hoping I've solved the great missing hot water mystery because I found a marginally left on tap. If so it'll be splish splash and freshen up. If not boil a kettle and have a shave and mutter the odd word to the non-existent deity of my choice that a bath is on the agenda for later. Kitty called last night around 10'ish and sounded relatively together. Hope the Temazapan worked and she got some kip last night. It was her who found Tom. Not something you want to have happen to you. PM due on Thursday so we should have some clue as to timescales from that point. Plan on visiting the lovely Dawn at the Co-op later. Need to look in the freezer here to find what there is to eat too. Sod it I need coffee and I need it now, that means I'm offski as they say up here.....

No Hot Water

Bugger, bugger, bugger, no hot water equals no bath, mind you. Absolute Power I ignored last week, on Sally's recommendation giving it another go. Pope Idol a wonderful idea. Sold. Knackered, can't even be bothered to open a second bottle of beer. Need sleep, but don't want to go to bed. Feels a bit weird being in the house on my tod. Need to find the garage keys in the morning.

Scotland Again

I hit the road middle of the day and came back up north. Journey was OK, dull, wet and driving through low level cloud. Got to Kitty's round 5'ish, Curds was there, James keeping Kitty going. Most impressed by the Minister coming round, he can't do the funeral because he's on holiday but he's arranging for a mate to do the job. I don't go for his hectoring Calvinist doctrine but I've got loads of time for any geezer who on hearing of bereavement on the grapevine but takes the time deliver compassionate support. Top man. Think I have a touch of glue ear because I'm mutt in the left lughole. Bit of a pain really. The ear's just burbling away, if I'm lucky nsatural grommet time, perforated eardrum. Sat here watching Room 101 drinking Riggwelter. Planning a bath and bed. Now I know the pour time on the bath is forever so if I start pouring after Room 101 then the comedy on Beeb 2'll be over before the bath is ready to use, that way I can avoid Newsnight. Nipped to the neighbours to warn them I'm here. Got to say they are lovely, both sides.

Sleep

Could do with some but it just ain't happening. Maybe it's because my feet are cold as well as everything else. Means I'm going to resort to the most disgusting habit known to man and wear socks in bed. Cal has it easy, a dose of Piriton works wonders for him. Wish I had something similar. Kitty did not get given anything to help her sleep. So no doubt she's finding things difficult too. Monst is upstairs in bed, I'm planning on crashing downstairs, she needs her sleep more than I do and don't need disturbing tonight with my buzz saw snores.

Revisionist History

Just re-read a couple of posts 'Tom Tales' from earlier today and 'Beer Elves' should I delete the relevant bits, no because it reflects where I was at the time. Just wish Tom was still around so I could give him a piece of my mind.

Tom Payton RIP

Just when you think you've got everything on some sort of even keel something else kicks in. Tom's died. Looks like an OD. Sharon is blown apart, Kitty had to get the police to break in and found him, she's in a bad way. Mattie when we told her had hysterics. Me I'm just wandering around aimlesslytrying not to voice the inappropriate things that are knocking about my head about asking the Co-op and Minister for a bulk discount. Can't honestly believe it, he sounded fine last time I spoke to him. I was just worried 'cos I hadn't spoken to him as recently as I was expecting. Yet throughout the day the longer I couldn't get in touch the more I was worried about. Spent most of the afternoon on the phone trying to speak to Tom. Clearly there's going to need to be a Post-Mortem and that'll take a few days, then the funeral'll need arranging. Rate I'm going 'Abide With Me' and 'The Lord is My Shepherd' are going to be up there with any number of other songs that I remember the lyrics of without effort. CID are at the house at the moment as is ex-PC Andy Thompson, so at least Kitty and James have support from someone who knows the score. He's been an exceptionally good friend to the family. Hasn't sunk in, rang Tracy to warn her I don't expect to be in. Was a bit sharp with my old fella 'cos he rang after I'd told the old drear asking her to put Simon off, and I wanted the phone clear because at that stage all we knew was Tom was dead. Later heard there was a glass of water and pills all over the place. Rang him back later on the Blackberry and apologised later. Need to sort out the cost of that I guess. They offered to have Cal down in Didcot but the poor little bugger needs as normal a life as possible. How the hell do we tell him that Uncle Tom a geezer he adored is dead? It all puts the trivial sport stuff into perspective. What a shite life at the moment. Again feeling kinda detatched from it, is it shock or just some stupid self defence mechanism.

Temporaly Challenged

As I re-read 'Thief of Time' I find that I am temporally challenged as I screwed up the link to last weeks archive. Oh, well nothing new there. In the meanwhile Atilla the Stockbroker entertains me.

Tom Tales

Still no word from Tom, but we have had word from Kitty who had the support wworkers on the line, they couldn't get in. So off she goes, she can't open the door because Tom's keys are in the door. She can't get him to answer the phone and nor can I. Will keep on trying and boy am I going to give him a piece of my mind when I get the bugger on the phone.

Marks and Spencers is Hell

Monst drags me off to the delights of Marks and Spencers in Warrington, a shop designed by the interior designers for an intimate shopping experience in that there are lots of racks of clothes arranged in a tightly spaced configuration that means that all you can see of other people is their head. That is providing they are of adult size and at least 5' 7". Trouble is we have Callum with us. I need to do various bits of shopping in the food bit, Cal wants to be with me, no bother so I arrange to meet Monst at the Boys Clothes section. Trouble is with Cal refusing to play and running away every five minutes it takes me 20 minutes to buy some grapes and chicken breasts. By the time I get to the rondezvous she's gone. Then the game of finding Monst begins. I hate Marks and Spencers in these circumstances, I can only see people's heads for around 10 foot either side of me. So we begin to wander around, no time to spend time watching the blokes that are hanging round the lingerie section and work out are they buying for wives, girlfriends or themselves, are they hanging around trying to look bored as they get their kicks from watching unknown women pick their scanties or are they really bored waiting on the wife, girlfiriend, daughter to pick the knickers off the shelf and sort the dosh transaction so they can flee from the embarresment of of hanging round the lingerie section. Instead we have to find Monst, 40 minutes it takes. By that time I need coffee, I feel hot, bothered and more than a little pissed off. We agree that Cal and I should head to the cafe. It's called the Respite Cafe. They ain't fucking joking. Thing is on the way I lose Cal who refuses to walk to heal. Five minutes of blind panic, how do I explain to Monst? One minute he was there, next minute he wasn't. Then I notice the little bugger has done the sensible thing, he's picked a table and is sat there thinking that the loon that's running around calling his name should stop the noise and just get the drinks in. Which having established where he is, I do. Now the sensible thing is to assume Monst will join us. Trouble is after 20 minutes both Cal and I have finished and he's bored and I'm wondering where Monst is. So the whole Marks and Spencers gavotte begins again. Boy was I relieved to get out of there.

Bela Lugosi's Dead

Predictions of dire films last night were premature ended up wathching Ed Wood which ell worth a look if only for it's stuff on Bela Lugosi. I kind of like all of those B-Movies and find the work of Ed Wood kind of amusing. Menawhile I do my domestic deity routine with a load of washing on and hanging the stuff that was in the machine. It never ends but the house is relatively tidy so no major efforts required on that score.

Return Leg of the 100 Years War

England take on France in Sydney and I'm hoping for Gareth Jones (the younger not to be confused with geezers entertained by the Vaselines in the library) that they win because he's off to the final. Apparently these are the key players. Now my interest in it is as a return leg of the 100 Years War. If you want to fight it yourself try here! For a French viewpoint try this brief item from the Biblioteque Nationale. Meanwhile half the family are celebrating the win of Scotland over the Dutch. I'm just hoping for a win over Denmark so I can take the piss out of Annette. Woke this morning only half parched. Fixing it with a cup of cocoa as I did last night. It gets rid of some of our milk lake.

Aaaaargh! Sleep...

Early wake up, again my mouth feels like it is inhabited by a carpet tongue. Plus side is early wake up means an early cure and hopefully I'll be able to kip again and wake for a second time feeling less dry in the mouth. Again it's due to my insistence on breathing through my mouth because I have yet to bring the beer in from the car. No doubt they'll be either a dodgy film or some football from an obscure part of the world on TV to assist with lulling me back to sleep.