Spot the flare

OK had to just put this in


If you look really closely, you can see this plane release a decoy.


Wonder why they call it an angel flare...?


:)

Resurrected!

Well, for a while there I thought that this blog was going to die a death until dead - and yet, here I am again.


The reality of it is that the more I kept thinking about this blog and how I haven't put anything in it for a long time and therefore how it was probably going to remain untouched for a very long time, the more I realised that I was actually still thinking about it and therefore had no choice but to conclude that I do actually care that it carries on.


For now.


Soooo yeah. Here I am.


Updates:

1. The nursery is finished! ...almost. Fully painted, new curtain rail and curtains, wardrobe, chest of drawers, toy box, nursery rocking/feeding chair, footstool all built. Wallpaper border up and actually not too wonky - although whoever invented the stuff needs to die a thousand deaths in as many different and painful ways as possible... "paste it then submerge the whole thing in water then try and get it level on your wall without it (a) looking like it was put up by a drunk blind person and (b) smearing pasty-water all over newly painted wall and newly-laid carpeting". Luckily, I had the presence of mind to actually think ahead on a DIY job (we're in uncharted territory here, for me) and get some plastic sheeting type stuff, so the carpet was saved. The walls just about escaped damage. But only just.
   
   Only thing left now is the cot. Minor thing, but hey, not needed immediately - and to be fair the only thing that has stopped this being constructed is the fact that the courier company haven't smegging delivered it yet.
   
   Wife has started filling up new furniture with new little person clothing... she's not even born yet and still already has more clothing than my wife and I combined!
   
   Accessories in place including themed lamp, stuffed toys, lampshade, rug and nappy stacker.
   
   It looks good :) Just a pity the rest of the house doesn't quite live up to the nice standard! But hey, at least the best room is for the littl'un, even if she won't be using the vast majority of it for a couple of months.
   
   
2. Wife = heavily pregnant, now at 32 weeks and counting, and looking beautiful. Both parents-to-be still of the dangerous belief that there is no possible way the child will arrive before full term, although father getting increasingly worried and paranoid that the night/hospital bag is not quite ready yet. Yes, we have the kid's room ready that won't be used straight away, but no we don't have the stuff necessary to bring with us into hospital to bring her into this world.
   
   Priorities. We has them.
   
   
3. Work = um... intriguing. Still the same to be honest. I have a new boss, which happens to be someone I've been working with for a while now so that's OK. If I wasn't about to become a Dad then I'd probably be more annoyed than I am now about some of the stuff going on - but the reality is that nothing huge is changing from my point of view so I reckon all of this work stuff will simply pale into insignificance once my daughter is born and my day job will simply turn from a stalled career into "the thing that pays for food, bills, the mortgage and any possible extra thing that my kid needs". I'm told kids are a sliiiight drain on ye ol' finances. No more gadget-buying for a while :(
   
   ...unless I can convince my wife that it benefits the child, somehow :)  then again, she's into gadgety/cool things anyway so she'll probably take that as easily a good enough excuse to have it. Whatever it is.
   
   I want to buy something now  :/
   
   
4. NCT meetings. Last one tomorrow! The transition of how I felt when these first started and how I feel now is - quite simply - astonishing. The very first time I walked into the NCT meeting and was asked to put a name badge on, I thought we were in trouble (name-badges being the universal indicator of "a crap/embarrassing/boring/uncomfortable time is coming soon"). Now, however, I can genuinely say that I am going to miss them - there are some great people in our little group and I'm pleased to say we have plans to continue to meet up with some of them.
   
   One of the sessions was a breast-feeding session held at some woman's house. As far as I can tell, all she does is talk about breasts for a living. You could do worse, couldn't you. Especially since our group of 14 people (4 couldn't make it) easily fit into the annex just off her kitchen, which was itself about the size of the entire bottom floor of our house. Very impressive building - looked stunning. I was, however, disappointed on this occasion as I had been promised that what can only be described as a 'woolly boob' would be making an appearance in the session - and it didn't. You may think that it's a bit weird to be disappointed by this, however after weeks and weeks of being told it would be there, I had developed what I can only describe as a disturbing fascination with this mythical object, so the sadness that brewed in me when it didn't show was unavoidable as far as I'm concerned. No woolly boobage.
   
   
5. Parents/Parents-In-Law. Both sides looking forward to the impending grandchild. One side in particular worrying the hell out of us; "you don't need a car seat to take the baby home in - just carry her on your lap in the car like everyone else does" is one particular moment I won't forget soon, and doesn't help with thoughts of leaving our long-sought-after and fought-for child alone with them if a car journey is involved! Wife's parents, lovely as they are, also have an amazing ability to anger, sadden and genuinely upset my wife at the drop of a hat sometimes - not helpful near the end of an emotional rollercoaster of a pregnancy.
   
   Both sets of grandparents-to-be generally very supportive though, apart from the odd incident such as the ones above, so for that I'm of course very thankful.
   
   
6. Sky+ Box. Had an emergency there not long ago in that it only had about 3% of its capacity left to record something. PANIC! Cue several days in a row catching up on favourites such as Lost, 24, FlashForward, Scrubs, Bones, Fringe, Lie To Me, Heroes, CSI: Las Vegas, some decent movies and of course the epic new The Pacific from the team behind Band of Brothers.
   
   Sudden realisation that most of these will not finish their current series before child is born. Eek. Eeeeeeeeeek.
   
   Sky+ Box back to 50% capacity :)
   
   
7. Started re-reading favourite books of all time - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: A trilogy in five parts. I will never, ever, get bored of these books. Awesome.
   
   
8. Still lots of things to do round the house - i.e. grow up and start living in a place that resembles adult accommodation and not teenager's houseshare. Rubbish.

Plenty to do then - but we have friends from Holland coming over on Thursday and staying till Friday. This of course means going out, possible cinema trip, baby-shopping (for the girlies) hoping there's a pub nearby (for the men - grrr) and meals out.

Looking forward to it :)

Anyway, back to work. S'pose I'd better start on any of the things I haven't yet started on. 

Blog - resurrected.

Work - has always been there, and continues. There's no pleasing some people.

"That's what Jesus said." - Monty Python's Life of Brian (love it)

TTFN (I suppose I'd better credit Tigger with that one 'n all)

Age old stuff

Well, that was a bit of a break wasn't it. Last thing I posted on here was a rant about Jon Venables, I think. I reckon it is just because I got out of the habit of actually writing some stuff down here (due to that damn thing that takes up a lot of my time - work), rather than that particular day winding me up so much I just 'went dark' for a while.


Anyhoo, back now.


What's happened? Well, I'm 30 now. Bugger. I am now officially (or what stood for official when I was a teenager) 'old'.


Do I feel old? No. But I'm not about to go off on some predictable path with the usual "you're only as old as you feel" vibe to it. I'm going to look at this properly. No, I don't feel old. But am I actually 'old'?


Let's have a little look at the facts.

• I am using the words "those kids" or "bloody kids" apparently a lot more regularly... and the people I am referring to could be anything from a couple of years younger than me through to a good 15 years plus younger than me. 15 years is a long time, to be honest... but it only feels like a few weeks ago that I was actually 15 - and referring to people my age as 'old'. Conclusion for first point: I'm old.
• I have started noticing that, just occasionally, and completely without warning, I detect that I lose my balance. Let's be clear here - it's only for a split second... maybe a split-split-split second, but it's definitely there. Only a few times so far and usually when I'm standing in the shower. Half asleep. But it never happened before, when I was 'young'. Gone, therefore, is the possibility of having some of the characteristics of the person you thought you were when younger, i.e. being totally ninja-like and being able to be as poised as a cat in any environment. Conclusion for second point: I'm old.
• I make a noise when I get up off the sofa - and whilst I'd like to think it's for dramatic effect, my mind is forcing me to acknowledge the fact that actually it's taking quite a bit of effort to stand up, relative to 10 years ago. Conclusion for third point: I'm old.
• I can no longer understand the appeal of nightclubs. Conclusion for fourth point: I'm old.
• I'm tired by 10-11pm. Conclusion for fifth point: I'm old.
• Grey hairs are making an occasional appearance on my head. Conclusion for sixth point: I'm just getting distinguished :)

I could go on, but unfortunately I'm beginning to see a pattern here...

OK. You win, Time and Predictability. I say that the important thing to remember is that you're only as old as you feel - therefore I'm not a day over 18.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

As for everything else that's happening... well, work is still work. I'm sure some other things that have occured whilst in Office World may well make an appearance soon, but to be frank I really don't care about it too much right now (unless it makes me laugh).

My wife continues to expand in the belly region - we're over 7 months pregnant now. Update on the nursery - well, it's been painted. I still need to do the skirting boards and the door to complete the newly-decorated look, but that's about it.

The carpet man has been and left us with a bit of a selection for my wife to go through and choose what she wants. That will hopefully be done (once said choice has been made) and finished, underlay and all, within about two weeks.

Then comes the construction bit.... man stuff! I get to spend hours putting together all of the nursery furniture that she has bought :)  I think this includes cot, wardrobe, chest of drawers, toy box, shelves and other stuff too - all with the barnyard theme that she has chosen which if I'm being completely honest looks very cute (-100 man points for use of the word cute).

Not long to go now!

Signing off for the moment, but MUST remember to note down the interesting characters we have met within the NHS Parentcraft sessions, and some of the great people in the NCT classes.... meant to talk about them here but went off on a tangent as usual.

Must be a sign of old age.

Evil is back, and his name is....?

Well, that was a bit of a longer break than I intended. Must get back into this new habit of writing some more stuff on here.


So, what has happened since the last post? Quite a bit, I'm sure, but only a few things that I am interested in.


I guess it's best to start with the obvious.


Jon Venables - one of the evil pair that murdered Jamie Bulger.


Speculation continues to grow around why he has been immediately recalled to prison over allegations he has broken the license agreement of his release. The Justice Secretary is even saying that he has good reason for keeping things quiet. I think that there are going to be a lot of people keeping very close tabs on this story - even just reading the different articles online, you can tell that the return of Venables to prison has re-ignited the ember of absolute, pure, unsheathed anger and hatred that the whole country - maybe most of the world - felt at the time when details of the crime were released and Venables and Thompson were convicted.


These are two quite clearly disturbed individuals who committed one of the worst crimes that century. They then served only 8 years behind bars (where they were educated and cared for) before being released under new names and relocated. The cost to you and I ran into the millions. It wasn't exactly seen as a 'money well spent' move by the vast majority of the country.


Pressure will continue to mount up, especially when little tid-bits surrounding this story - whether 100% true or not - make their way into the mainstream media. Things like the allegations that the recall is tied into child pornography. Or even where, apparently, Jon Venables himself has been renouncing his new identity and has been flippantly and cockily informing anyone who will listen of his actual, true, identity.


If true, let him continue, I say. Get some 'proper' insider justice. Let the evil little bastard announce who he is to the convicted criminals in the prison, where it is understood that anyone from small-time thief to first-degree murderers are still human and still share the same hatred and disgust at child murderers and paedophiles as any other decent human being residing outside of the prison walls. 


So yes. Let Jon Venables continue to paint a very large target on his own head. Let's see how long he lasts.


If none of it is true, then personally I fully agree with Jamie Bulger's mother - if Jon Venables is to be charged with new offences, then he should absolutely lose his anonymity. Under what possible circumstance should we allow the protection placed around these two to remain? they were given new lives, a fresh start - EVERYTHING, under extremely strict conditions. Jon Venables breaks one of those conditions (several times if all media speculations are to be believed), so why the hell should we give him ANOTHER chance after what he has done, what he continues to do, and how much he has cost this country both in money and hate?


He brought this upon himself. He had a choice. His to make. He should absolutely receive the consequences of those actions.


/end rant.


I think, actually, contrary to what I indicated at the start of this post, I'll leave it there. I went on for a bit longer than anticipated and, to be perfectly honest, just writing these thoughts and comments down like this has actually, literally, got me angry. Furious at the evil piece of scum.


Like I said, all the recent Venables stories have done for me is the same thing they've done for people all over - re-ignited a burning ember that whilst I may have occasionally forgotten was there, never truly went out.


Now, it's time for me to go and make it back in good time to attend an NHS Parentcraft session at the local hospital. I have no doubt that whilst probably duplicating a lot of the NCT class information, it will inevitably cheer me up as anything to do with the upcoming birth of my daughter of course does with ease.


She's not even born, and yet the love I already feel for her (due to magnify by impossible amounts when she's finally in our arms) just makes me appreciate more what Jamie Bulger's mother has lost.


My thoughts and sympathies go out to her and I hope she continues to be strong enough to pull through a time that brings back the worst memories and feelings imaginable.


Back soon.

Fear me, for I am GIANT

Just a quick note. Sat here on the train that I caught at Kemble, rumbling on at a fair old whack to Reading at the moment.


I think I either wipe out select details from previous journeys from my mind, or at the grand old age of (almost) 30 I am still growing.


I'm a tall guy, 6ft 4", but that's not exactly abnormal these days is it. So why oh why oh why do they create seats in Standard Class that are far too small and compact?


I'm well aware of maximising carrying capability for the best possible economic return etc but this is silly. I'm hunched over like a smartly dressed silverback gorilla, hammering away on my keyboard of my netbook that is on one of those silly little trays attached to the back of the seat in front of you. And yet my knees are crammed up against the seat in front, my head is bowed, my legs are bent as is my back, and I appear to be doing some form of Tyrannosaurus Rex impression with my arms in that anyone would think that they start at my elbows and somehow protrude from my ribs, not my shoulders.


This is all after I have pushed through to the empty window seat, past the woman sitting in the aisle seat. I then had to perform the intricate dance of new train boarders and struggle out of my coat and then place it and my laptop backpack up on the inadequately small shelves, whilst my body was bent over backwards and doing a very realistic impression of a suited and booted boomerang. This is because, of course, you can't prepare whilst actually in the aisle - the other new train borders desperate to get past to find a seat are actually legally allowed to kill and eat you if you hold them up in this way.


At least that would be more impressive grub than the food on the actual train. I've made that mistake too, before. Ordered a "Breakfast Bap", I did. Sausage, bacon and egg with brown sauce. When it was plonked in front of me after being nuked in the on-board microwave, I asked for another - one that had not previously passed through someone else's digestive system. Apparently, this was not funny. I think out of sheer curiousity and an internal voice saying "go on, be craaazy today! Experience life! And possibly death!" I actually took a bite. Never, ever, ever again. I swore that after that stupid mistake I only had days, possibly minutes to live before whatever viral or bacterial threat took my life away from me.


I can just see the headstone now - "Here lies someone who tried train food. The idiot."


And as for fares going up again - well I might just jolly well be annoyed if I actually had to pay for them. Luckily, I don't. However, I can't help but recall that the last four or five fare hikes have been to "improve the service received by our wonderful customers". Please correct me if I am wrong, but I have not seen one single improvement. Not one. The way they ferry us all about like cattle you would think they're making a fair buck. I know that there are maintenance and repair costs for the network, but still... I find it hard to believe that the extra money received from our increased fares are being well spent.


But then again, maybe we are all stupid for using the train. I mean, I am travelling from Kemble to London in a tiny seat in a vehicle out of my control getting wound up by the certain knowledge my train is probably going to be delayed or cancelled for my return journey (it always happens to me) on a day when I really need to be back on time to attend our first NCT class. My knees hurt, my legs are uncomfortable, the seat is not great and the train is getting overcrowded again now we are actually at Reading, and people who have paid like me are forced to stand.


People can buy return airline tickets to Spain for £30 or something silly sometimes, so what tiny charge do the train operators place on us travelling in 'peak' times?


£117.00 for me. That's ridiculous. Why is that OK? And why do we keep paying it? 


They've got us over a barrel, that's why.


Makes me so mad I might just go stomp around a bit and wipe out Tokyo later.

To Londinium, and beyond!

Apparently, or according to some friends and/or colleagues 'dahn the saaf-east, in Landen innit', I don't live in a little town in the Cotswolds, I live in "The Sticks".


As far as I can tell, "The Sticks" = "Anywhere outside of the M25", but the stigma somehow gets worse (Stickier?) the further away from this concrete ring you travel.


So by the time you get to the Cotswolds, as far as people in our own capital city are concerned, all we do here is occasionally munch a few carrots here and there, wear dirty and ripped dungarees and mostly get about from field to field on our tractors. Which we apparently refer to as "Tra-errrs". We'll meet up with our farmer friends at the respective corners of our land, say 'Oo-arr...' in a knowing way whilst nodding slowly and gazing into the distance, then head to another field and repeat the process with that neighbour. Finally, we'll shoot a rabbit with our 12-bore shotgun and take it home to skin and eat for tea that night.


My colleagues sometimes seem to conveniently forget that we do have technology in this part of the world as well, and that I actually work for the same company as them where I advise on secure business internet and hosting solutions, platforms, cloud computing and all... *yawn* (boring myself again). Most of the time this is just to open up an opportunity for a bit of banter which I very much enjoy, but I can't help but wonder sometimes that they actually believe it all a bit more than they let on...


I've always thought that there is some secret in London that I am missing for so many people to want to live there, or for the millions that do to actually want to stay there and shout about how great it is. 


But is it? Is it really? I don't think so and have rapidly come to the conclusion that I'm not missing any secret at all - you just need to be a certain type of person to actually WANT to stay there and make a life in the place.


I'm off to London tomorrow to show my colleagues down there that I still do exist, that I do know what a suit is and that I don't actually smell of manure. I hope. Am I looking forward to it? Not really. Let me explain why, drawing from previous trips and experiences.

• I have to get up earlier than usual. Never a good start. OK, I admit, not London's fault, but I ain't happy about it.
• Trains, Tube and Public Transport. I hate trains, and I dislike any sort of public transport intensely, mostly because when it fails, it tends to fail on an epic level. If I'm driving somewhere and get stuck in a jam or the car breaks down (not happened yet but might), at least I am in control and responsible for the situation, or potentially I can make a choice to try alternative routes. Not so with public transport. And as for the Tube - convenient, yes, I give it that. But try travelling during busy periods in the heat of the Summer (assuming we get one). How I love the clammy feel of my shirt and suit sticking to me whilst pressed up against several other bodies with my face in someone's armpit - usually the guy built like a brick out-house wearing no sleeves so his armpit-hair starts tickling my nostrils. It then turns into the "Please God Don't Let Me Open-Mouth Sneeze Into The Brick House's Armpit" game. Bad times.
• Let's ignore the Tube and the Taxis and take a wander on the streets and meet all the happy go-lucky people! Fail, on several levels:
• The air is so pollution-filled your lungs start to immediately collapse
• Assuming you survive the smoggy atmosphere, you quickly learn another fact - NO ONE OUTSIDE IN LONDON EVER SMILES. And God forbid even attempts to make eye contact. Even if you succeed at this rare challenge, it's usually seen as an act of aggression and the person you looked at will then proceed to beat you to death with his little fold-up bicycle.
• EVERYONE is always in a big rush to get where they're going. It's a real push and shove or be pushed and shoved world out there.
• No-one speaks to you. Unless they are with you, or mugging you.
• It's too noisy! On the few occasions I have stayed overnight in London, the ambient noise consists of sirens (not the good kind) and murders. And that's it.
• It's too big. Whilst choice and convenience are obviously good things and beneficial, there is such a thing - a very real thing - as too much choice and London absolutely has too much of everything. Even deciding where to get lunch from can be a mammoth task if you don't shut your brain down quickly and settle for the Subway around the corner.
• It's too threatening. You can't go anywhere without seeing large groups of hoodies, drunks or murderers. Half the journey planning is spent dynamically adjusting your path to cross streets or take alternative routes to avoid being killed.
• The taxi drivers, who have an amazing ability in terms of memorising streets and knowing every possible and alternative path to get you from point A to point B, are all insane. Many a time I have been treated to tales of how the driver's family was in the drugs business, or how the coppers have been round recently, or how they know someone who has beaten up someone or been beaten up recently whilst on a 900mph ride back to Paddington station. One such trip consisted of the driver literally flooring it all the way and doing nothing but cackling madly, only subsiding into silence when working out the change he owed me for the fare.

Compare that to my little town where I can park. I have clean air. I have a bit of choice (or at the very worst I travel for 15 minutes to another little town) over anything be it food, clothing, household goods, electricals, restaurants. Where people lazily wonder around even during the week, not in a rush. Where people actually look at you and return smiles - even initiating conversation of all things. Where you don't feel threatened at all, even if you're in town in the middle of the night; walking past a group of teenagers the most you have to worry about is one of them - having not seen you - wandering into your path.. and then apologising for doing so. Where the nearest Police force is based 20 miles away, as it is hardly ever needed.

I feel relaxed where I live, and it's not just because I'm used to it. In London I am almost constantly tense, only ever relaxing when I start to see green things outside of the train windows.

I love visiting London - it's great for big shopping trips at seasonal times of the year. It's great for a weekend break - treating myself and my wife to a nice hotel, with good food, and maybe catching a theatre show (-10 man points). It's somewhere 'different' but not in the middle of nowhere. So visiting, fine. I get that. I like that. I understand that. I just couldn't live there. It would drive me mad and I think that within a very short time-frame I would just not want to converse with people. Not want to smile at them. Not even want to make eye contact with them. If I had to venture outside, I would get from A to B as quickly as possible without taking any further note of the people or anything else around me. I can see a pattern here.

In my opinion, London living is for people who want to maximise their contacts in terms of business acquaintances so that they can 'do lunch', and 'network', and/or for people who love the night-life, taking 30 minutes to get served at a busy bar, shouting to talk to anyone, drinking until the small hours, maybe looking for quick, no-strings-attached relationships all the way through to their forties and generally spending most of their time either stressed out or in a busy bar.

To me, all of those people absolutely have their priorities wrong. But, as always, this is just an opinion.

If that's what London is all about - they can have it. 

I'll be on my Tra-errr.

Destroy It Yourself? Not yet, at least

Hello there.


Back in the office on yet another Monday. I'm feeling good though and this is not just due to the several cups of coffee I've had.


My wife and I went to our 25-week midwife appointment this morning at a local surgery. It was all very normal stuff, a few more forms to fill in etc, but came with the customary listening to the heartbeat piece.


Now, my wife made a fantastic investment recently and purchased a decent doppler to allow us to listen into the baby's heartbeat ourselves whenever we want. This has resulted in a lot of fun, essentially with our little girl intentionally (or so we believe) playing a game of hide and seek whenever she detects the machine near her!


Eventually, inevitably, we do find her though and sit there with smiles on our faces listening to the little train-like heartbeat go for it, and we're quite content to do that for 5-10 minutes at a time. Even if it means covering my wife's belly with a cold, strange, gooey, ecto-plasamy gel-like substance. So although listening again in the surgery this morning was not exactly a new experience, it has lost none of its originality or ability to create magical grins on our faces when we hear it.


The fact we're going to be parents soon still scares the crud out of me, but it's getting more and more exciting and I'm catching myself thinking about meeting my little girl for the first time more and more, and getting more and more excited by it. I'm like a kid at Christmas who is convinced that this year he is going to not only see Santa Claus but trap the slippery rotund fellow, adopt Rudolph as a cool pet and have all the presents in the sack to himself.


Update on the house Destroy It Yourself - 

• Spare room now almost empty (apart from a box holding 'stuff' for the baby - little toys, colourful pics to put on the walls etc)
• Little 4-ton skip hired, deployed smack-bang on the driveway. Operation "Fill-It-Up-With-Our-Stuff-Before-The-Neighbours-Sneakily-Use-It-Too" was successfully accomplished by late Saturday afternoon. Weasels. (+10 man points)
• Tidy up garage after recent spring-clean to actually be able to use the space a bit more effectively - done. (+5 man points)
• Tackle the fabled "Storage Cupboard Under The Stairs". This was not a mission to be taken lightly - even opening the door rendered you at risk of being crushed by approximately ten tons of "other stuff", most of which we had not used/wanted/worn/glimpsed for years. Seriously, it is like a black hole in there - I emptied it out and I would have put a whole year's wages on the fact that had I just come along and seen all this crap everywhere, I would be convinced that there was more chance of finding my cat riding a Harley than getting it all to fit into this little space.
• Three separate trips to local DIY store - complete.
• First - To purchase chipboard, shelves for new cupboard space, three tier storage trolley and to spot some bathroom tiles we wanted for our new bathroom (purchased a YEAR previously...) but not knowing how many we needed
• Second - to purchase said tiles post returning home and measuring up (utilising my maths skills and hoping that this tiling experience is not going to match the previous "Tiling Incident" from a few years back). The amount I bought actually buckled the front wheel of the trolley I used... grrrrr (+5 man points)
• Third - to purchase drill-bits in order to be able to set up shelves purchased in the first trip for the storage cupboard... and to get a new power drill. Cos I could. And it was red (+100 man points). Couldn't find a suitable holster though so I could pretend I was a cowboy when my wife isn't looking (-95 man points).
• Complete conversion of "Storage Cupboard Under The Stairs" to "New Walk-In Larder" via trolley and putting up aforementioned shelves. The rest of the larder is a little bit grotty and only lit by a couple of LED wall lights, but it's space that can now be used as my wife intended, and she happily went to and fro from the kitchen and loaded up the shelves with all sorts of things. This felt good.

So basically, what I have so far accomplished is some quite big stuff - but nothing that is immediately visible to someone just coming into the place! The house is still a bit of a tip from all the moving about and shifting of "stuff" we've been doing, but at least now the final sort of tidy-up should be easy and have a longer-lasting effect.

Then we just have to arrange for the new carpet in the nursery and finally, at last, I can then unleash my wife with her debit card onto the internet and into the near-by baby shops to start kitting it out and generally blinging it up :)

I'm looking forward to that, should be fun :)

In summary then, so far my major achievement is the shelves I put up - which as of writing this have not fallen down yet. This is a new DIY experience, but one I am not yet 100% comfortable in believing... if they're still up after a week then I will admit I might have done OK.

Then again, there's still possibility for disaster - I've just remembered that I have two shoe racks to build for my wife tonight.

Flat-packed shoe racks are, as I'm sure you appreciate, lethal in the wrong hands and there is every chance that I could still end civilised life as we know it with my DIY skills.

We'll see, eh?