What happens when you look out of the window...

I had a surreal experience today as I watched my neighbour accidentally run herself over with her own car. The handbrake slipped as she was closing the boot - instead of jumping out of the way, she tried to stop it rolling back down her steep driveway. The driver door was open, demolishing another neighbour’s fence as it careered backwards and pulling the door off its hinge. As she lost her footing, my neighbour disappeared beneath the car with a yelp. I found her covered in blood, wedged between the hedge and the wheel, though thankfully still conscious. Once cleaned up, it was clear that she had escaped with only minor cuts and bruises. I found myself in a strange kind of competition with another woman who had come to help, each trying to outdo the other in an attempt to be the most sympathetic and showing off our respective first-aid skills. “I won’t give you anything to eat or drink”, said the Good Samaritan with the authority of an A&E consultant, “in case you need to have stitches at the hospital”. Grrrrhh! I wanted to say that! In her shocked and confused state, my neighbour babbled on between bouts of shaking and crying. She revealed the comings and goings of neighbours, past and present, in the street - including a real life wife-swap. The Helpful Woman added her own story of the married lady who ran off with the man who came to fix her electric gates – they’re still not mended! When the neighbour’s son eventually arrived, he was more concerned about the car.

I haven't got time to go swimming...

Bezzie has insinuated recently that, despite the fact that I now have a job, I'm just the same El Coucho as ever. She might have a point, having replaced English daytime TV with mindlessly repetitive, but totally addictive, computer games. In my defence: I have got to fill approx 6 tedious hours a day, in between working super hard in the early morning and evening.

Are you 'Dances with Difficulty?'

After re-watching ‘Dances with Wolves’ over the Christmas holidays, I have decided that we would all benefit from having an Indian pseudonym. Anyone who has seen the film will know that the main characters are called ‘Dances with Wolves’ (Kevin Costner), ‘Kicking Bird’ (his trusty friend) and the feisty ‘Stands with a Fist’ (the love interest). I, of course, wish to be known as ‘Chief Sitting Sofa’. Emily will henceforth be known as ‘Shining Star’. I think Dad should be renamed ‘Stands with a trowel’. You get the idea. Choose your own name or risk having it chosen for you! God, I hope I am not being really offensive to Native Americans.

Musical Madness - Rave Reviews!

Entertainers in the West End are quaking in their roles and turning green with envy at the acclaim heaped upon the stars of the New Brighton Floral Pavilion for their recent singing and dancing extravaganza ‘Musical Madness’. One of the biggest rounds of applause of the night went to Emski for her catchy rendition of ‘Honey, honey!’; she can truly dance the pants of those Mamma mia girls.And what about Amy? She’s been hiding her light under a bushel, and no mistake (can you tell I’ve been reading Dickens lately?). With the voice of a nightingale and the patience of a saint (with the little ones, who needed a bit of prompting) and she really strutted her stuff in that High School Musical.

Has anyone else noticed that Britain only started to slide into recession since Mum & Dad have not been shopping in this country? High street retail figures slumped in October and November – can it just be coincidence that Mum & Dad are away? Good news for the economy that they are back next week. As soon as they re-start their Christmas shopping Gordon Brown will be breathing a sigh of relief!

I saw a little hedgehog running across the allotment yesterday (he was running, not me). He'd better find somewhere to hibernate soon, weather forecasters predict that we are going to have an 'arctic blast' soon. That's a new catchphrase; once one forecaster has said it, everyone wants to use it.
Disaster of disasters, the fridge-freezer has broken down. Fortunately, the freezer was almost empty, save for a packet of frozen peas (now best described as 'mushy peas'). Pea soup anyone? There was a strong smell coming from the fridge, so some things have ended up in the bin, but the race is on to devise a few meals from the remaining ingredients before they go completely rancid. Ready, steady cook!
A new fridge freezer is one more item to add to the list of things in the house that need replacing, after the aerial, the TV, computer & printer, washing machine and gas fire. At this rate, I'm going to have to get a job!

In a bid to rid the living room of the smell of cat wee (from the carpet? From the dead cat under the floorboards?), I have been burning an incense oil called ‘Activist’. Could this account for a sudden burst of activity this weekend which saw the trainers brought out for their first trip? A little jog (ok, half-jog, half walk) to Monica and Chandler’s followed by a couple of hours clearing leaves from the drains, gutters and garden has left me stiff as a board today. My buttocks are now numb for a different reason.
Back to square one with the house renovations after a visit to the fireplace showroom threw up choices that I hadn’t even considered and revealed other obstacles including the possibility of having to get access to the back of the chimney through the newly tiled, almost-finished bathroom!