wendy house

The Observer,  also known as The Gaurdian, reports that:

Reading is ‘worse than Beirut’, claims Terry Waite

Former hostage Terry Waite stunned Women’s Institute members in Reading by telling them that dealing with their town’s traffic was worse than being held captive for almost five years, after being delayed on his way to speak to them.

Do I think Terry is exaggerating a bit at the detriment of our glorious town’s already overly maligned reputation? 

OH YES! 

The town traffic may indeed be a bit slower than the executive’s posh car, or Fiat Panda,  can travel.  It is, however, a reasonable, leisurely, pace for the good and even-tempered people of the town to go about their honest toil. 

Even the BBC doesn’t cite Reading’s roads as main UK traffic black spots.  No wonder those members of the Women’s Institute were stunned to hear such ill considered twaddle uttered from a professional public speaker and humanitarian. 

Outraged-Wendy-citizen-of-Reading

Throughout the summer Reading town centre is bustling with shoppers and exotic performers.  Native American flute music filled the air around Broad street one cloudy summers day.

Not natural,  arguably not beautiful and definitely not with a feather as implied by the imagery in this advert.  According to this advert natural beauty without surgery can be achieved by the injection of long lasting stuff.  Surely this is an abuse of even the 1968 trade’s descriptions act? 

To achieve naturalness you need injections?!

If the woman pictured in this advert is an exemplar of naturalness you also need lots of product such as dark eye-shadow,  mascara, lipstic, hair-dye, with some additional refinements in the form of eyebrow plucking, dental adjustments and airbrushing.

Burn me as a witch for saying it, but I’d much rather wrinklefest without layers of product on my skin and hair however ‘unnatural’ that might be.

Autumn sounds like awesome when pronounced with an US accent.  Recently one US friend commented upon returning to the UK:

It’s good to be back.  It’s awesome

Why I love England #4.  welcoming

England welcomes all sorts of people, even bus enthusiasts, as long as they behave like responsible citizens by following health and safety instructions and reporting suspicious unattended packages to the appropriate security authorities.

The Wendy House kitchen is currently camping under canvas in the September rain,  ruthless.

Much to my surprise the self-mutilating builders turned-up.  I wasn’t expecting them because there have been more false starts than a particularly rusty old Fiat Panda on a frosty morning.

When spottydog visited the Wendy House I gave her a full 1 minute tour.  The full 1 mintue tour is the executive version of the 30 second tour.  It is akin to the 15 minute Hamlet only quicker and with less literary credibility.  As audience, spottydog’s role was to provide her unique insight into potential lifestyle developments.  Half way through the tour,  near the end:

Wendy:  this is my wardrobe (US = closet.  A closet is a place where you keep skeletons, hence the title of this post)

Spottydog: that’s orderly

Wendy: its half empty

Spottydog:  its organised by colour and size,  even the shoes

Wendy:  Errrrrmmmmmmm…….   …is that bad?

Spottydog:  its not scatty

Lifestyle development suggestions involved, ‘open the beers’ and ‘you need more plants’.  Spottydog, spot-on again.

In the UK buildings can be licenced to pursue music, dancing, and entertainment of the like kind, they also enjoy throwing several large dollops of befuddlement into the mix, just in case

Bouncer:  please take your hat off

Wendy:  Can I put it back on when I get inside?

Bouncer:  No,  it’s for the CCTV

Sulkily I took off my hat,  walked into the bar,  put my hat back on…  …several other people in our party wore my hat during the course of the evening,  its a very sociable hat…

According to a Westminster tour guide and the world wide words website:

Our parliament comes from the old French parlement, which at first meant only a “talk, consultation, conference” (it derives from the same French word parler, “to speak” as parlance, parley and parlour, the last of which, etymologically, is a “room set aside for conversation”). Later parlement evolved to the sense “formal consultative body” and so to “legislative body”.

Now that was interesting,  wasn’t it? 

Lucid dreaming is apparantly quite rare.  Excel has told me that the 10 friends and family who replied to my emailed question ‘do you lucid dream?’ were all wildly over educated, regularly creative (musicians, poets, designers, teenager), and all except 1 are either not-married or over the age of 30.  More specifically:

5/10 people do Lucid dream, including:

• 2/5 males
• 3/5 girls
• 3/3 immediate relatives

It’s fun,  I’d highly recommend it if you don’t already indulge…

have you ever wondered where wheelchairs go to relax,  hang-out,  shoot the breeze? 

Me neither. 

Apparantly it’s in a wheelchair park where they can cosey up to each other without anyone batting and eyelid or a googly…

Once upon a time, 
in July 2007,

when Raymond referenced the Wendy House I would receive around 1,000 visits in one day!  GADZOOKS! 

For the sake of introducing a new acronym, rather than an argument, we will call this the Raymond Referenced Readers effect,  or the three R’s effect henceforth to be written 3Rs pronounced ‘3 arse’ followed by an gender-irrelevant obligatory giggle.

Yesterday, Raymond referenced the Wendy House again. 

Raymond’s readers were so keen to click on his links that this year the Wendy House recieved nigh on 3,000 visits in the first day.  ECKY THUMP!  That’s a big 3Rs (giggle).

A couple of Raymonds fabled nitpickers have already helped improve my blog-post content accuracy with spelling details and everything,  what helpful people they are.

Hello Raymond’s readers,  I’ve added a ‘Raymond’ tag so that you can easily find cross,  rather than angry, references.  Am I just too nice to you or what?

On a website called ars technica Joel Hruska points out that a Lloyds bank employee took offense at a customers online banking password ‘Lloydispants‘ then changed the password to ‘noitsnot’ .  When the customer tried to change the password again the Lloyds employee told the customer that several, slightly insulting to Lloyds, suggested passwords were also unacceptable. 

On discovering this story Lloyds officials declared that customers can have any secure password they want and added that the employee in question is no longer with them. 

With that pluck and sense of humour Lloyds should have promoted the employee into a position of influence.

Wendy:  Can I have my washing machine damaged phone replaced please?

insurance agent (IA): what time did this happen?

Wendy: about 7.30pm

IA: how was it put into the machine?

Wendy:  it was in the breast pocket of a fleece jacket,  I had checked the side pockets and forgotten to check the breast pocket

IA: was it in a large load or just a single item being washed?

Wendy: scooped up in a large load just after I came home from work,  I took it off and put it in with the load

IA:  When did you notice?

Wendy:  I heard a strange clunking coming from my washing machine immediately and thought,  oh dear,  sounds like I need to get my washing machine looked at.  About an hour later I needed to make a phone call and realised what had happened.  After and hour in the washing machine I decided to wait for the cycle to finish.  Then got the phone out,  took the back off and dried it with a hair-dryer then plugged it into the power supply.  Nothing,  no lights on the phone,  nothing.

IA:  did you try later?

Wendy:  yes,  about 2 days later I plugged it in again,  no lights.

<soppiness warning>

Just a few of the too numerous to enumerate highlights:

• Gift registry:  www.epilepsy.org.uk & www.simoncommunity.org.uk 
• The bride wasn’t ‘given away’ like chattles,  bride and groom walked down the isle together.
• Isle-walk accompanying music:  You only live twice
• Readings including multiple references to Pooh in A.A.Milne’s ‘us two’  (read by AfH)
• Outstanding vows because they acknowledged each others strenghts and weaknesses and showed love, respect, knowledge of what it takes to make a relationship work and be fun too.  I particularly liked this one:

I promise to allow myself to be silly around you and to enjoy you being silly around me as well.

• 7 Henchman subtly and actively coordinating the smooth running of the event: Oddjob, Mr. Wint, Mr. Kidd, Nick Nack, May Day, Xenia Onatopp, Jaws
• Red wedding dress
• No ‘maids’
• A photobased childrens TV themed Quiz organized by table at the wedding breakfast.
• Bride’s speech toplining the other speeches. 
• Creatively quirky photographer:  http://www.vikmartin.co.uk/
• Local bands at the reception were friends of the Bride and Groom,  some included the Bride or Groom and all played at least one cover version of Bond theme tune,  compared by AFH.
• My yellow-red shot silk hat,  however, the relative lack of hats on other guests was actually a tad disturbing.

Tables were decorated in childrens TV themes, with models and soft toys, and each guest as a character,  I was Soo.  As you can see, even Bagpuss joined the fun.

<soppiness temporarily suspended>

Excellence

included multiple boob-topped churches,  deserted dawns shared with the departed,   livingly sociable sunsets announced by rather flat church bells,   mules trains,  smiling old people,   sculpted young people,  versataile windmills,  stylish alleys often containing sleek kitties,  oodles of sunshine, beer and clear blues. 

On top of all these standard Greek holiday experiences I learned about the real sailing motoring experience from a chain-smoking German skipper in the company of a pack of youngsters.  I learned real sailing involved:

1. being prepared not to sail.
2. feeling sick.
3. not doing a poo in the loo of a boat moored in a Greek harbour.
4. wearing white to hide the cumulative sea-salt crystals.
5. knowing knots.
6. charging small ‘devices; in Tavernas.

According to the Gaurdian summer music festivals are popular events but there are too many festivals chasing too few ’star’ acts.  The Observer lists ‘Boutique festivals’ as small-is-beautiful with reportedly shorter queues, higher quality food,  and more child-friendly facilities than large such as Reading, Glastonbury and t in the park.

On the August Bank Holiday weekend over 80,000 people visited the town of Reading town for the festival.  I snuck out on the train heading west for the smaller Bristol Jazz festival.  Wandering towards the train station I passed many Reading festival attendees in the de rigeur style that involved:

• denim shorts.
• personaised wellies.
• a British variation on the grunge theme. 
• NO suntan
• sunglasses cunningly repurposed as hair-bands. 
• bum bags (US = fanny-packs)

The day after laundering my phone I trundled along to the Orange store where I loitered with the other customers who stood and waited. I listened to a lady being attended get gradually more agitated with the assistant as she learned that the assistant could not retrieve her phone contacts

“but those are my business contacts’‘

The assistant frowned,  her companion said they could try and use the home computer to try and retrieve the contacts from the SIM.  She appeared inconsolable,  her voice gradually raising as she made it clear that she had no back-up of these vital contact numbers, no way of even telling people that she had lost their numbers.  Tension, amongst those who only stood and waited, grew.   

As time passed the bald fellow in black gradually became more agitated, shifting his weight, checking his watch, glaring at the busy assistants. After about 10 minutes a new assistant joined the beleaguered pair on the floor.  She looked at me stood by the desk and I pointed her to the bald man in black.  An inaudible conversation between them, lasted less than a minute before I heard him loudly announce

“you clearly aren’t interested in what I have to say so I’m going elsewhere” 

He marched out of the store, the assistant stood watching him for a moment then came over to me. She was clearly upset…

Assitant:that was so embarrassing, he said I was spaced-out, that I wasn’t listening to him,  that I wasn’t even trying to help, he was so rude.

Wendy: he’d been waiting a very long time.  We all have.

Assistant: but that doesn’t give him the right to be rude to me.

Wendy: no. it doesn’t.

Assistant:  (continues to enumerate all the ways that the bald man had treated her inappropriately while she tests my SIM in another phone and finds me a cheap replacement and back-up phone)

I left happy,  SIM intact,  cheap-new phone,  my phone numbers previously backed-up on Darling and my work-supplied computer.  There are times when tendancies towards geekyness make my life so much easier than those people who have not ventured into the pain that can be involved insynchronising their phone contents with their computers

Phone.

bouncy hot whites cycle.

It was bound to happen one day.

sign me up for the water-proof, slimline, aesthetically pleasing cellphone.

Words of wisdom from my outrageously expensive and handsome, former professional-brick-layer, young product-dispensing hairdresser:

you want asymmetrical

As usual,  I’ll be taking Alan’s tip very seriously and following up on this gem of wisdom

<list-overdose event warning>

Below is a list of the stuff that GAP recommended that I pack where the ticks (US = check mark) indicate how many of an item I carried.  Items not actively used during the holiday are struck-through:

• Passport (with photocopies)  ü
• Travel insurance (with photocopies) ü
• Airline tickets (with photocopies) ü
• Euros and travellers cheques ü
• Credit or debit card (see personal spending money) ü
• G.A.P Adventures vouchers, pre-departure information and dossier ü
• Any entry visas or vaccination certificates required ü
• Camera and film ü
• Reading/writing material üüüü
• Cover or plastic bags for backpacks ü
• Flashlight ü
• Windproof/waterproof jacket/rain poncho ü
• Small towel and swim wear üüü
• Warm sweater ü
• 4 shirts/t-shirts üü
• Sunhat üüüü
• 2 pair of shorts üü
• 1 pair of long trousersü
• 1 pair hiking pants/track pants ü
• Hiking boots/sturdy walking shoes (for shore excursions) ü
• Sport shoes with light colored soles/sport sandals (while on board) ü
• Biking gloves (if you wish to participate in sailing – optional) ü
• Sunblock ü
• Sunglasses üüüü
• Toiletries (biodegradable) ü
• Flashlight ü
• Watch or alarm clock ü
• Water bottle ü
• First-aid kit (should contain lip salve, Aspirin, Band Aids, anti-histamine, any extra prescription drugs you may be taking). ü

Striking holiday characteristics hidden in the above list include my:

• Not falling-over (band-aids not used) .
• Not loosing my passport.
• Not wearing more than one pair of shoes during the fortnight.
• Only getting 4 mosquito bites.  I think the high winds helped.
• Wearing only 3 different pairs of glasses during the fortnight.
• Managing with only 4 hats,  I suspect I needed more.
• Being able to see by the light of the moon.
• not wearing trousers or knickers.

<list-overdose temporarily suspended>

Lady on plane with English accent (LOPWEA):  where are you from?

Wendy:  Bristol, England

LOPWEA:  I though you had a foreign accent

Wendy:  I’ve recently lived abroad for 8 years,  where would you guess the accent is from?

LOPWEA:  Austraila or New Zealand

Wendy:  yes,  its ex-colonial English,  the NW US

Even the sleek Greek cats emerge from the windy alleys to occupy favourite perches to supervise the sunset.

All the Cyclade islands were mazed with Alleys just the right size for a mule and its handler.  Some towns even advertised themselves as not having cars.  European cars are small but not small enough for these alleys! 

Occassionally buzzy-bee sounding mopeds would swish around these alleys.  Houses were often built over the alleys creating pleasant shade and interesting archways.

As Poodle astutely noted there are a lot of ‘boob jobs’ at the seaside resorts in the Cyclades,  clearly echoing the popular church architecture.

The cyclades are not only littered with churches,  they have more than their fair share of windmills.  We experienced the impressively powerful winds during our sailing motoring trip, gale force for most of the vacation.

Tucked-in behind the obligatory church bell tower modern windmills were clearly harnessing the power in Santorini.  Older mills were converted into Tavernas,  modern residences,  and some left without their sails. 

These renovated old windmills even stood guardrd over familiar modern green plastic rubbish wheely bins

The Islands of the Cyclades are strewn with white churches,  often with blue roofs and all with bell-towers.  The bells would ring between 6pm and 7.20pm a single tone,  often flat, with a basic tune conveyed by a regularly varied pace between the rings.

Graveyards were normally accompanied by a small church,  mainly churches stood alone on island high ground,  often perched on Island mountain tops.

Greek graveyards were wonderful.  White marble graves are adorned with photographs of the deceased,  lit oil lamps, occassionally lit incense burners and well maintained live potted plants.  The graves are tended regularly and often have a little cupboard built into the headstone where the carers store basic maintainance equipment.  Some graves contained glass sliding doors behind which the photographs sat and occassionally a couple of glasses implying that the living came here to take a drink with the departed. 

The Geeeks recognise their elderly and departed in a more noticable way than I am used to in either the UK or US cultures I’ve lived within.

This Imerovigli graveyard contains rows of mausoleum type rooms.  Each mausoleum contained labelled wooden boxes with many different photographs,  places for the living to visit the dead in peace.

I wonder whether the departed are carried to their resting place by mule…

 Mules are a current and useful form of transport in the Greek Islands.  The mules are small enough to navigate the windy alleyways of the old towns,  they are sufficiently sturdy to carry tourists and tourist bags up hill-sides,  stairs, down alleyways. 

This enterprising young fellow carried tourists and their bags to a venetian styled hotel near the entrance to Pyrgos Castle.  Inbetween ferrying tourists he sold pedestrians the opportunity to have their photograph taken with him and his mules.  Labrador took this opportunity which came with lots of kisses,  and from the young fellow.

Other fellows used the mules generally as personal transport,  we often passed them on main roads and back streets.