On days without news

Usually, the radio goes on when my colleague gets to work, and goes off when I leave. He can’t stand adverts, so we listen to ‘Deutschland Radio’ and ‘Deutschland Radio Kultur’  which generally makes for a good mixture of news and interesting information about a huge range of topics. Anything from book reviews to current scientific research to new films to phone-ins about illnesses to the latest in-depth reports about bombings or shootings or fires or whatever’s going on in the world, generally including interviews with multiple important, knowledgeable people.

Usually, I quite enjoy the mixture. There are obviously topics I’m not that interested in, but none of the programs run longer than 90 minutes, lots of them only 10 minutes or so.

Usually, we talk about what we’ve heard. I have a million background questions, and my colleague has a lot of excess knowledge.

This week, I am alone in the workshop.

I haven’t turned the radio on once. I’m playing CDs and enjoying letting my thoughts do their own thing, rather than be directed by the radio. Enya doesn’t have lyrics you need to listen to, sometimes not even any you can listen to accidentally. For someone who generally pays more attention to lyrics than the music, it’s quite nice to tune them out. To tune out all the words. There are so many words. All the time. The world is full of words.

When I think about it, it’s weird not knowing what’s happening, but on balance, I don’t miss the constant input.

At least this week.

Next week my colleague comes back, and the radio will go back on.

In the meantime, I’m going to sail away from it all.

🙂

On looking helpless and being helpfull

I can only claim half the title credits… the other half goes to the incredible computer guy at work..

***

“I need a new toner cartridge for the printer”

“Ok, that’s fine, but you’ll have to order one yourself..”

“???”

“Uh, yeah, since they implemented the new system, I’m no longer responsible..”

“Oh. So how do I know what to order?”

“It’s written on the data print out..”

“The what?”

“The data print out.. All the info about the printer, on one page..”

“Oh. And how do I find that?”

“There’s a menu, probably 2 or 3 levels deep, you usually have to click…[blah blah blah]…”

<blank look>

“Should I come down to the workshop and check for you?”

<Nods> “Yes please, that would be fantastic.”

***

20 minutes later, the cartridge was ordered. Despite the data sheet being totally useless (and in an unusual place on the menu), and having to take the printer to pieces to get to the old cartridge in order to read the right number from a row of several, and ‘the system’ not having the cartridge number as a search criteria, and my particular cartridge not being explicitly listed, and… Ach, all kinds of hurdles.

Sometimes I feel better about not insisting on doing everything by myself.. 🙂

On reaching for the ordinary and finding nothing but stars 🌟

I have an airbed. It’s huge, and it leaks. Just a bit, but so that there is a considerable dent when I wake up. I pump it up before I go to bed in the evening and all is good.

This morning I decided to stay in bed after I woke up. I am a lady of leisure after all [..the exams]. I got up, turned the pump on, then off and heard an ominous hissing. I thought the plug wasn’t in properly, but there was no problem there. Then I noticed the hole.

It wasn’t a very big hole, but it was a noisy hole, and it was having a big impact. When I covered it with my finger the hissing stopped. When I took my finger away, I could watch my bedclothes sinking towards the floor.

I went on a hunt for sellotape.

What I found was a page of sticky stars.

Now I can lie in bed, knowing I’m protected by the stars 🙂

On winning

I passed – wheeeee!!!

🙂 🙂 🙂

I don’t know how well I won, but I think it’s the winning part that counts.
Now to catch up on lost sleep 🙂
(And later, on lost (/missing) posts)

On the moment of truth

I wrote here almost exactly a year and a half ago to say that I was starting school again.

I’m writing now to say that I’m [hopefully] about to finish school.

My last exam starts in less than half an hour (ARGH!).

It’s an oral defence of my thesis, followed by a whole lot of questions.

By midday, I’ll know if I passed….
See you on the other side! 🙂

On the joys of living in a small town

There was a festival in my town today. A whole street full of small market stalls in celebration of local root vegetables (!!). The butcher sold special sausages and other people sold various other things. I had a hot one when I arrived, and planned to buy a packet of raw sausages to take home, once I’d been round the rest of the market stalls. By the time I got back to the butcher’s stall, I was out of money. When I asked whether they’d continue selling them during the next week the saleslady said they’d freeze and sell whatever was left after the market, but wouldn’t be making any more until next year. Then she asked where I lived. I told her and she wrote a number on the back of a business card and handed it to me. The butcher is apparently based a couple of towns away, but the saleslady’s mother lives on my street. She’ll leave a packet here when she packs up, and I should phone her to arrange a collection time…

..Where else would that happen??

On timing

Life could be so frigging easy!

And yet it isn’t.

Yesterday I received notification that I passed the project part of my last exam, and am invited to defend it on the 29th.

That means sorting out a presentation. It’s almost 2 weeks away. No problem.

Except.

I’m away for a long weekend at a glassblowing convention starting from Thursday morning. And I had 2 boxes of aquarium plants waiting to be planted. And I promised the secretary I’d translate 4 pages of text for her.

So. Yesterday I planted the plants. All the plants. All evening.

This morning, my alternater belt jumped off its wheels.

Yeehaah.

Or something.

This evening I’m going to work on the translation.

On the best thing about having one’s own freezer

You can fill it with icecream – and it’s nobody’s business but your own 🙂

A couple of years ago, the last tenant bought a fridge freezer unit to fit the kitchen, and because it’s a weird size, she left it here when she left.

If it was officially made part of the flat’s inventory, the landlord would be responsible for making sure it works which he didn’t want to be or do.

Getting rid of it in order to buy a new one would be ridiculous, so he offered it to me, for free, to use as long as it lives (and to theoretically take with me when I leave).

So it’s mine.

And it’s full of ice cream 🙂

(And pizza, though that’s not as exciting)

***

Once upon a time, in my other flat, I had a chest freezer… Theoretically I still do, it’s just 50 miles away and full of sensible things like homemade ready meals and bread which need eating before it’s moveable. It’s huge, and that’s good too, in a different way from the tiny one I have here. The best thing about it is always having space for leftovers 🙂 and having loads of things to choose from when you don’t feel like cooking.

***

Back to the ice cream.

When your house is full of boxes and things that need cleaning, sometimes the best thing to do is find something to lean on, and lean on it while you eat ice cream directly out of the tub and look at all the things you will do ‘later’…

Which is what I spent a very pleasant half hour or so doing just now 🙂

On egos and builder’s yards

Men are funny creatures.

This afternoon I stood at the service desk with a trolley load of wood panels, waiting for someone to get back from their break and cut them to size.

A man dressed in a smart shirt and shiny shoes stopped his trolley neatly behind mine, and started heaving a packet of roofing felt off a shoulder high pile. The packet was a good metre long and about 30 pieces thick. It turns out roofing felt is heavy…and flexible (;)) He tugged at one end and was surprised when it bent in the middle. Puffing something that sounded like criticism of the “idiots who pack roofing felt” he tugged again.

After watching him for a while, I offered to take hold of the other end and help him heave it down together.

He declined politely and continued to struggle and puff and pant until there were 4 packages more or less neatly arranged on his trolley. Then he pushed his trolley away without a word.

Is there a man-rule against accepting help from women when picking up unwieldy things in building centres?