I want a stove

I found out that we are in a smokeless zone. This means that there are only certain fuels we can burn unless we have an exempt appliance. I started looking through the list but my eyes got crossed. There are probably lots of options, if I sort through properly. Though round here I will probably be reported if I put a twig on that I shouldn't.

I really, really, really want a stove fire in our living room. I can think of dozens of reasons to have one (including burning all the junk mail we get and the two papers a day darling father goes through). Also there is something there that just calls to me. If there was no open fire in the cottage in Pickering we would definitely go somewhere else, regardless of what OH would say.

I can't see us getting one, not this winter, what with bees (who may be warm or overheated), cost, mess, etc. Where would we keep fuel? How about insurance costs? But I can still dream.

Hot and Cold

I have had the heating on today, as little bear has had a much needed nap in his room, and he can't be trusted with a heater. I really try and keep the heating down, there is no overall thermostat and I can't seem to get the radiators to adjust properly. Sigh.

So while he napped I had some time on the computer, and was treated to the wonderful sight of all the melted snow falling from our roof. It is so frustrating. Effectively we are heating the roof. But we don't have any access to the roof space/loft to put in insulation.

Having no access is not a bad thing - at one point one of the locals who lived in this block of eight used to go up into the roof space via one attic and dip into the other houses. This was normally to avoid the police callers at the door. I do not believe anything went missing, but it is quite a dispiriting thought.

Little bear refuses to wear a sweater, and I am refusing to coddle him too much in case it tempts him to put another layer on. He is complete distraught at the suggestion of a vest as well. And hats, and gloves, even walking back from nursery in the snow.

Oops

Another drawer has collapsed in our kitchen. There was hardly a thing in it, I think it is just wear and tear.

Before I get any more kitchen cabinets, I would like a new boiler, and a central heating system where I can switch all the radiators on. And even have the hot water on without the heating - that would be marvellous! And an adjustable thermostat!

And then I will be saving up for an open fire. Well, a stove thingy that will, I hope, heat a lot of the bricks in the house.

Then the new cabinets.

I think I need to work out how to motivate myself more to save.

Uninvited guest

We have a mouse.

This is not an unexpected event. After all, on the row backing on to us three out of the four houses are empty. That Landlord's properties are in a gross state of disrepair. We live near a few patches of wasteland. And Her Three Doors Down is over-run with them. Much as I loathe Her Three Doors Down, I can't blame her - she has an empty house at the back of her and a walled up property to one side, and her house keeping is of a far higher standard than mine.

So Saturday night was spent intermittently being woken by an elusive rustling. I was not impressed.

I could rely on evil cat to pounce, but my reliance on her is not strong. She is elderly, creaky and although in remarkable fettle for her age, she is not as nimble as she used to be. Also I am not sure she has ever actually seen a mouse. I am not sure how she would react to a mouse. I suspect that the instincts are there, but not so sure about actual finish.

When we get the first cold snap I expect to be over-run so I shall be going out and buying (what an excuse) some plastic boxes (inexpensive Matalan own brand) and packing up the existing boxes with other vulnerable items.

I am also considering rehousing an older cat. Company for evil cat and perhaps a dedicated mouser. Hmm.

Dusty times

Darling father has more energy than I do, but so do most plants. However he decided he wanted to wash his car while he was here.

So, while I was trying to get all washed up and the washing on the line and lunch for little bear and prepare for tea, I also dug out some old cloths and a bucket of soapy water (the cheap washing up liquid I use for plants) and a brush and dustpan.

I would like to point out that I was still trying to get on with things afterwards while darling father had his afternoon forty winks.

Well, that was Saturday. On Monday as he went to leave the building work across the street had left a fine film of dust all over his car. This was quite disappointing for him. Fortunately I have a grossly overgrown buddleia at that side which means that most washing hung out does not get a fresh dusting unless the work is particularly vigorous. It also gives me an excuse not to wash our car. Which apparently is blue. Or possibly dark grey. Probably not silver. Could be dark green.

Apparently the plans had been somewhat misleading when it came to the water supplies and it is surprising just how much ended up dug. This includes a deep trench with what feels like a very flimsy board over it. Little bear bounces over it. As I am a fuller figure of a lady, I proceed with caution.

I'm not sure what is going to be like when the building work stops. I just can't imagine it.

A pleasant surprise

I just want to say that our bin men are really good. They have just taken eight black bin bags as well as a full wheelie bin without any complaint.

They deserve a medal!

There is so much to look at.

I have been trying to do for little bear what my darling father did for me. Wherever we went he would point out things, tell me all about them, encourage me to look.

So as we have walked along the street this week I have pointed out sparrows, swallows, yellow hammers, blue tits, pigeons and crows. As we have walked in the field I have pointed out Queen Anne's lace, wild garlic, buttercups, daisies, herb robert, roses, dandelions and nettles. For me it is a little sad. I grew up in an urban environment, but both of my parents had a country background and could tell me about flowers and animals and generally enjoy what was there. Little bear is more removed from that countryside. Now I wouldn't like to take him blackberrying because I would be worried about fumes from cars and what they may have been sprayed with.

One of my favourite sights is the blue tit that has nested in a crack in the back of a local pub. I have seen it flying to and fro, often with a full beak. It looks so full of life and joie de vivre. I may be grumbling at the owner of the pub because he hasn't mended the hole in my neighbours roof, but I am not in a hurry for him to repair this particular structural defect.

Bollards!

The bollards have gone. It seems such a short time since they appeared without warning. Now they have disappeared with the same lack of ceremony.

I sometimes need to remind myself not to let little bear stray too far in the road, as we live near a blind corner, and cars come round at such a rate. I know it made things awkward for a lot of people, dear heart included, and there is the principle of someone just shoving in bollards without so much as a by your leave, but the white vans now rattle past at speed. To no real purpose as both exits to my road are extremely busy with lots of people who don't let other cars out.

(in fairness to some of the drivers, I have been very kindly allowed to cross when cars stop when trying to get little bear across the road).

Rumours of tarmac continue, but I am not convinced that they will come to anything. You see, part of the road is owned in common by four houses, owned by three separate people. Who don't like each other. This may be an obstacle to agreement.

I can't wait to move

Wars and rumours of wars

There is trouble on the street again.

Apparently, according to rumour, 'they' are going to tarmac the street. 'They' are going to tarmac it soon. The nice man next door has been rushing round trying to clear stuff away and be braced for when the tar wagons arrive, working double speed on the cars brought to him to sort out. Regrettably it appears that the rumour has come from a tainted source.

We part own some of the land (it's too complicated for me) which means we would almost certainly be asked to cough up for the road, which would almost certainly wipe out our savings.

And 'they' are going to have to remove the controversial bollards because 'they' never told the council that the bollards were being put in and it's a conspiracy.

If it is a conspiracy it's a bit lame. I mean, compared to UFO's and a secret heir to the throne and Hitler's clone and Elvis on the moon, it is a bit vanilla, 'they' are conspiring to put bollards up at one end of an unadopted road.

Well, I think it is merely at the planning stage as the people who own the greatest of the percentage of the road have a head office at the Isle of Mann, so I am confident that they would probably get in touch before they started unloading pneumatic hammers, if only to try and squeeze a contribution to the cost out of us.

It is still, however, deeply unsettling.

Let there be light

We have a hole against the wall of our front yard.

The council, in their wisdom, have decided to replace the elderly lamp post outside our house with something that is not only more energy efficient but also is brighter with less light pollution. It doesn't make sense when I see it here, but the argument held water when they explained it to me.

Well, a man with a van came along our street and sprayed a lot of markings around. I felt reservations about this, but it isn't the first time someone official looking has made a mark and disappeared without trace.

Then little bear and I came home one day, and there was an extra lamppost, about three inches away from our elderly but reliable lamppost.

Then the day before yesterday two men and a van tried to come in the wrong end of our now dead end street, then after a 357 point turn woke little bear by drilling a big hole right next to the new lamppost.

Today, we have light. Instead of familiar orange we have the sort of white light that is special effects on crime shows. Also I keep expecting aliens to land. The electricians came.

However, they didn't fill in the hole. Electricians do not fill in holes, that is the job of skilled council workers. So I still have a stonking great hole, next to our wall and in the runway of a multiplicity of kids bikes and scooters. And no doubt it will be filled in the near future with one of those pneumatic hammers just as little bear has gone down for a nap.

More bollards

And yet another large white van has come belting down our unmade, potholed road, taken the corner on two wheels, screeched to a halt when faced with the bollards. Sworn. Done a four hundred and seventy point turn to get the very large white van to point in the other direction and bounced slowly and dejectedly back to the road they turned off. Which is quite busy and takes ages to get out of.

Dearie dearie me.

Visitor at my window.

Actually, when I sit in my sitting room I don't really have a view. There is a huge and elderly television that cuts out most of the view. Also the angles in the room and outside mean that if I do look out my view would consist of some very overgrown laurels and a corrugated roof. Except, for a while, the window had a visitor. It was a spider!

I am not a huge fan of spiders, but in this case I found it exceptional. There was a spider that had spun a web over our window. Now, had I been as enthusiastic housewife as I should I would have gone out and somehow reached the window (very awkward) and immediately removed the cobweb. Except, well, it was nice seeing the creature. The spider was certainly more domesticated than I, always tidying and patching up the web and I could watch the repair work instead of baby tv, which was a bit of a relief.

Now the web is tattered and crumbs of dead leaves are filling it. I really need to tie a couple of brooms together and do something like tie a duster over one end and get rid of the web. As it is the web remains as a sad reminder that the visitor has left.

An approaching bonfire?

The little street I live in is quite a backwater, unmade, in atrocious condition and generally ignored by the council. Thus the family next door have had a sizeable scrapyard in the street and only recently have been reported to health and safety.

A few weeks ago, at the end of September, I pointed out to the gentleman next door that I could see a problem. The laurels opposite had been hacked back and the trimmings piled on top of a hedge that the people at the back's predecessors had uprooted over a year ago. Their was, shamefully, some trimmings from my buddlia (however it is spelled) and also a lot of branches and wood recently dumped by person or persons unknown. If I had reported it I would have got the gentleman next door into even more trouble, so I just sighed. Next to all this nicely drying wood are the remains of the winnebago and a large pile of tyres, along with sundry cars and caravans in assorted stages of dilapidation. Also, we are on the corner nearest this pile so it includes dear heart's pride and joy, just about four year old car which we managed to get last year. There are also a lot of youngsters with too much time and too little sense around, and Bonfire night is approaching. I had concerns that the youngsters would find it great fun to torch a very large and dry pile of wood next to a lot of tyres and some elderly cars - and ours!

I explained that I was concerned, but I could not leave little bear to supervise a controlled bonfire, and I certainly was not bringing him out to help! The gentleman next door reassured me that he would see to it. I did offer the use of our rusty incinerator but he reassured me that 'his mate' was bringing him a large metal drum, specifically for this purpose.

The pile of wood is still there, but drier. The pile of tyres and the pieces of car are still there. I am now becoming apprehensive. It is such a tempting target!

If the worst happens at least I will have a good view as a fire engine proves or disproves health and safety's assertion that the road is too cluttered.

Deliveries

I had a phone call. 'Hello, Sainsburys Deliveries, I can't find your house.' This is unfortunately a common happening. (I wish I could spell occurance occurence occurence ocurance you know!) I asked where he was. 'Outside the funeral parlour'. That was actually at one end of our road. I explained tactfully, and the poor delivery driver manoeuvred past four cars, a camper van, a small towing caravan and a very large trailer to come to a stop next to a large pile of tyres. All of these moved in with the people next door, and as they are lovely neighbours I really can't complain. At least the winnebago (elderly and burned out) has mostly been removed, a few pieces remaining in a heap.

To make matters worse, the Delivery man was followed by a large white van delivering a gear box to the gentleman next door. He had to squeeze out past two of those people carrier things, both of which with their licence plates removed and both also the property of the gentleman next door unless anyone in an official capacity asks.

But I still would not swap my next door neighbours. Their generosity and kindness should be a proverb.

Location, location, location

Continuing the introductions, the home I live in is in an area that was once relatively respectable before a local buy-to-let landlord started buying up the local houses and renting them out to, well, anyone who wasn't likely to complain about absence of kitchen lights or holes in roof. Not many Accountants fall into that category.

It sounds like the neighbours whose back wall is our back wall have just taken a large delivery of rubble down their stairs. Little bear's room has soundproofing and I leave him with Classic FM on really quietly every night.

The neighbours to the side are lovely, but their landlord hasn't mended the hole in their roof... If I can see damp from it in our house, I do think it worrying for them!

About two months ago, perhaps less, the local pharmacy moved, kept the old shop but instead of having medicine it had groceries. As it was the only clean shop within miles that sold eggs I was extremely pleased. Then the newsagents started stocking groceries as well...

The trade war is at an early stage, with the former pharmacy now having an 'off licence' so instead of antidepressants one can get vodka. The newsagents do have a very established and loyal customer base, however, and are also running Avon. I am friendly with the people in both shops and find myself, if I call in one shop and buy some groceries, smuggling past the staff in the other shop!