Girlie gibberish

Back to last Friday.  Even with the road works we had a pleasant enough journey heading south on the A14.  It took us just over an hour to get to the The White Horse in Milton just on the outskirts of Cambridge. Actually we were a little early but as the car park filled up, we decided to go in and order a drink rather than wait in the car.  Our timing was good because just as Phil got served at the bar, John turned up.    The pub was busy and we ordered some pub grub and caught up with each others travel tales.  John & Marie were actually away for nearly 6 months taking their campervan to La Manga in Spain.  We wiled away a couple of hours catching up and left just after 2pm.  The roads were busy because the kids are still on holiday and it was a Friday but we made good timing and stopped off at the Cranfield flat on the way back rather than go via the motorway.  

Organised girlie that I am, I had all the clean bedding in the back of the land rover.   The agent told Phil that the cleaners would go in, but still I wanted to make up the with fresh stuff; As well Phil knows, I can’t bear unmade beds and I it helps with the viewings.   The flat wasn’t in too bad a state but I still wasn’t that happy.   I did have my cleaning stuff with me but Phil was anxious to get home.   Of course, any trip to the CF flat involves an encounter with mad Betty from next door.  I had a garbled conversation about her eldest daughter and an incident with FaceBook and the social services and something about a problem with her car but I wasn’t in the mood, or rather, Phil wasn’t in the mood for social chit chat.  I will have to make up for it at a later date but we got in and out in under half an hour.

It was just as well that I got the days crossed for our Cambridge trip because when we got back from Cranfield, Phil checked his laptop and realised that he had to go to Oxford for his tutorial on Saturday.  He was cross because he told me the date and I hadn’t remembered!   LoL, what does he think I am, his personal secretary??   We had an early start on Saturday as the grand prix qualifying was on.  Phil went downstairs to watch it but I lingered in bed.  When Phil left I packed my bag and went to the gym.  I didn’t really feel like it and only managed a rather pathetic workout and a swim.  The weekend was sunny and I’m afraid to say, fairly uneventful.

Actually, I hesitate to post a blog today as my life has been as dull as dishwater. I guess dull is better than drama but I think I must do something to liven things up.   I still haven’t found a job (and neither has Phil) and I have failed to loose any weight.  In fact, quite the reverse and whilst ‘on the diet’ I have put 3 pounds on!  It’s all quite depressing.  On Monday I left Phil working on the accounts and went over to the Cranfield flat to carry out the cleaning.  I hadn’t been in there long when mad Betty appeared at the window.  Sure enough, as anticipated, it was pay back time for our quick visit last week.   I listened to her gibberish and contributed some of my own, impatient to get on with my chores.  Whilst at the window I noticed a number of wasps above me and we soon worked out that there was a nest above my lounge window.  My worst nightmare but Bet said if I got some cans of wasp destroyer she would spray the nest for me.

Luckily I had some cans under my kitchen sink so I drove back over to Cranfield yesterday afternoon.  I stood in my lounge with the windows firmly closed and watched Betty spray the foam into the hole in the wall.  I don’t know what I expected but nothing happened, no wasp fury, just dollops of foam dripping down my lovely clean windows.   I thought that was the end of it but oh no.  I had a text message from Betty early this morning to say that she’d got stung by a wasp and needs more wasp destroyer foam.  So that means another trip to Cranfield some time later today. Joy.

Phil’s dad is still not very well and we are quite worried.  He went back to the doctor and this time saw a different doctor who suspects that Phil’s dad may have suffered a heart attack.  He’s had many tests this week and they think he has water on his lungs but he won’t get his final results until Friday.  It’s all very worrying and I personally think he should be treated in hospital.  But there’s not much we can do for now, just wait to hear his test results and go from there. 

I can’t think of anything else to say today.  We’ve had another late start and we are both still in our dressing gowns.  I fear we are turning into middle aged slobs.  I’m undecided whether to go to the gym first or whether to go to Cranfield and sort out the wasp problem.  Tough decisions. It really is time for me to get up off my arse and get myself a job.